Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Another general's voice came through the comms, grim and heavy.

"It's true. Reports just came in. The moment the Holy City blew up, our main force walked into a trap in the forest. They were hit just as hard as we were."

Jiro clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms."Damn it! Do we have any intel on the Saintess? Is she there?" The radio crackled again. "No reports yet. The main force must be in total disarray if we aren't getting updates."

Jiro gritted his teeth. His plan was unraveling, slipping through his fingers like sand in a storm. They had underestimated the enemy badly but he wasn't about to roll over and die. "Doesn't matter!" he shouted with his eyes burning with fury.

"We pull back NOW and hit them from the rear! ORDER YOUR MEN! WE'RE NOT DYING LIKE DOGS!"The battlefield was already a graveyard, but Jiro refused to let it become his.

The moment he turned to retreat into his vehicle, his breath hitched, since standing right there, mere steps away, was Lilla, with her piercing gaze locked onto him. Flanking her were two paladins, their armor gleaming under the dim light, their presence radiating an aura of unyielding resolve.

"We meet again, General Jiro," she said with her voice calm yet laced with something ominous, a quiet storm brewing beneath her words.

A few hours earlier…

The ground trembled beneath the march of half a million soldiers. The vast army, a seething mass of humans, mercenaries, and criminal factions, poured out of the principal city, advancing toward the Holy City like an unstoppable tide.

Overhead, the sky was streaked with movement from four destroyers, a lone cruiser, and hundreds of fighters and frigates loomed in orbit, their presence a silent promise of devastation.

At the heart of this colossal force rode General Akara, a man whose ambitions were as twisted as his desires. He sat atop a command tank, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. This was not just war. This was a performance, a show of dominance.

"The time has come, my citizens, my warriors!" Akara shouted out, his voice booming across the assembled forces. "Today, we cleanse the world of those fanatics! Today, we take what is rightfully ours! March!"

The army roared in response, their ranks surging forward in three mighty columns. The ground shook beneath their boots, the air thick with the stench of sweat, oil, and gunpowder.

On the command tank, a councilman lounged lazily, swirling a goblet of rich, red wine. He smirked as he turned to Akara, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Tell me, General, is this display truly necessary? All of our forces… just to capture a saintess?" His tone was light, but beneath it lay something else, something like greed, thinly veiled.

Akara chuckled, his grin sharp and predatory. "Necessary? Hardly. This is a spectacle, a reminder of our strength. By the time we arrive, our troops will have already taken the Holy City and will be pillaging, reveling… indulging." His smile twisted into something darker, something that made the councilman's smirk falter for a moment. Read latest stories on My Virtual Library Empire

The councilman laughed, taking another slow sip of his wine. "And the saintess? Surely, she won't be in one piece when you get there, or at least her holes won't be."

Akara's expression darkened, but there was hunger in his eyes, a primal need that bordered on obsession. "I have ensured that no one touches her. I've paid handsomely to make sure of it." He leaned back, exhaling through his nose. "She belongs to me. We are… deeply in love."

Their laughter filled the air, thick with filth, but then—

A voice cut through the space like a blade, cold and unyielding.

"You guys are disgusting. Then again, I never expected anything else from pigs who live only to eat, fuck, and shit."

The laughter died.

Akara stiffened, his eyes darting around the command tank. "W-what?! Who said that? Show yourself!"

A chuckle echoed through the room; it was taunting, unbothered.

"Oh? Forgotten my voice already? Not that it matters. It would be creepy if you actually remembered it." A pause, deliberate and cutting.

"Don't bother searching for me. I'm not there. This is just a little gift from our believers, a long-range communication device planted inside that gaudy excuse of a tank you're riding."

Lilla's brother let out a slow, deliberate breath before speaking again. His voice dripped with quiet amusement."I just wanted to leave you with one final thought, pig. I do hope your flesh smells as sweet as real pork. Because right now, hovering just above your heads… are hundreds of tons of incendiary bombs. Enjoy the stench of burning meat."

Then, without another word, he turned to one of his paladins."Is it time?" His voice carried a strange, almost musical quality; it was deep, yet laced with an eerie softness, a blend of masculine and feminine tones that unsettled those who didn't know his true nature.

The paladin bowed slightly. "Understood, High Inquisitor! May the Lady in White bless our pilots aim!" With a swift motion of his hand, a nearby crusader received the signal and quickly transmitted a coded message through his datapad, straight to the Saintess's fleet.

Aboard the Cloaked Cruiser…"Captain Erik! Orders confirmed!" A mechanic's voice rang through the hangar bay, barely audible over the roar of engines.

Erik, now a seasoned wing captain after two years of brutal warfare, barely glanced up. Instead, he exhaled sharply and shouted into his comms: "You heard him, ladies and gentlemen! May the Lady in White guide your aim! Fire up those engines!"

The hangar shook as the bombers huge turbines roared to life, their deep hum reverberating through the ship's metal frame. One by one, the fighters lifted off, slipping out of the cruiser's cloaked hold like shadows in the void.

The first wave of Saintess fleet fighters ripped through the enemy lines, opening fire on the unsuspecting frigates."Viky! Left side!" Erik's voice cut through the comms as he shot past her, his fighter a blur of crimson light. A split second later, two enemy ships exploded behind him, shredded by his kinetic machine guns.

"Woohoo! Make way, bitches! Next Ace title is mine!"

"Erik, you little bastard! Those were mine!"

The battle descended into madness with fighters from both sides tangled in a frenzied dogfight, laser fire, and kinetic rounds streaking through the sky. Down below, wreckage from destroyed ships rained onto the battlefield.

"R-run! Another one's coming down!"

"AHH—FUCK, I WON'T MAKE IT!—"

Flaming debris crashed into the massed soldiers, crushing bodies, igniting the dry undergrowth, and turning the battlefield into a hellscape of fire and falling metal. But the real nightmare had only just begun.Slow, looming, unstoppable... the bombers arrived.

These were no ordinary bombers since they were armed as gunboats, heavily armored, and loaded with payloads of death. Each one carried fifty thousand kilograms of incendiary bombs, and with the enemy forces so densely packed together in the forest below…The world ignited.

The first wave of bombs tore through the canopy, detonating with horrifying precision. Firestorms erupted across the battlefield, spreading like a living thing, consuming everything in its path. Screams of burning soldiers filled the air, their bodies engulfed in flames.

And it didn't stop there. The bombers, hovering like vultures, opened fire with armor-piercing rounds, shredding the survivors who tried to flee.It was pure slaughter. A scene pulled straight from a nightmare.

"G-General! We can't hold out! We're being burned alive! Your orders—!"

"General, what do we do?!"

"GENERAL—"

General Akara didn't answer.

He had fallen to his knees, his mouth hanging open in silent horror. He never saw this coming. Never planned for this. His forces... his invincible army... were dying by the thousands, screaming, burning, breaking.

And worst of all? His command was in shambles. Officers shouted over each other, issuing conflicting orders, their voices lost in the storm of fire and war.

Akara's breath came in ragged gasps. His mind screamed for clarity, but all he could hear were the dying wails of his men, the roar of fire consuming flesh, and the mechanical whine of incoming bombers. His hands trembled as he gripped the comms.

"E-EVERYONE! R-RUN TO THE FRONT! IT'S OUR ONLY EXIT! DESTROYERS!!! SHOOT DOWN THAT CRUISER, NOW!"

The order was desperate, barely holding together under the weight of panic, but it was something.For a brief moment, the soldiers hesitated but then, as if grasping at a dying hope, they ran.

Hundreds, then thousands, surged forward, fleeing the hellish inferno behind them. Fire and smoke chased their heels, bombers still screaming overhead. Some collapsed mid-sprint, their bodies consumed by flame, their screams cut short.

But still, the rest ran toward salvation. Toward the front.And there, waiting for them, stood a wall of zealots.Their plasma shields locked together like a glowing, unbreakable barrier. Their faces, hidden behind unwavering helmets, betrayed no emotion.

The first wave of fleeing soldiers collided with the shield wall and was cut down instantly.From behind the wall, more Zealots raised their rifles. A barrage of red streaks filled the burning forest.Laser fire tore into the panicked masses, cutting through flesh and bone like paper.

The red glow of the shots mixed with the fire behind them, casting everything in an eerie, hellish light.Panic turned into something else... into blind, feral terror.

The soldiers broke. They scattered in all directions, some dropping their weapons, some screaming as they trampled their own wounded. Many, in their desperation, ran toward the burning forest.

Because a laser shot would kill you instantly. But fire? If you were lucky, you might survive.But that, too, was a mistake.