Intergalactic conquest with an AI-Chapter 326 : Hive City War. {4}

"Grand Elder, it seems we have plenty of moles on our side," the third Elder reported; his voice was tinged with frustration.

"The commander was already waiting for us. We've been fighting for two hours, and we still haven't pierced their first line of defense. What should we do?"

The Grand Elder chuckled, his long white beard swaying as he rubbed it thoughtfully. "Hohoho, don't trouble yourself over this. Even though we haven't broken through, it's because I ordered it so."

The third Elder blinked while his brow furrowed in confusion. "How so? Aren't we here to use the commander as a bargaining chip with the invaders?"

The Grand Elder's laughter deepened like a low, rumbling sound that sent a chill down the spines of those around him.

"Hohoho, of course, third Elder. But I also have no intention of wasting our troops in a pointless slaughter. Even if we secure the supreme commander's head, we'll need a strong force intact. They, too, are a valuable bargaining chip."

As he spoke, a distant rumble echoed through the air, growing louder with each passing moment. The Grand Elder's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he turned to look behind him.

"And by the look of it, we won't have to wait much longer. What I've been waiting for has finally arrived."

The Elders followed his gaze, their eyes widening as eight missile launcher vehicles and a dozen or so of field artillery rolled into position, their crews working swiftly to prepare for the impending bombardment. The third Elder's puzzled expression melted into one of awe.

"Ohhh, so this was your plan all along! Grand Elder, your strategic mind is truly unparalleled!" he exclaimed while clapping his hands in admiration.

The Grand Elder smirked, his eyes narrowing with satisfaction. "Indeed. Now, fourth Elder, I grant you the honor of initiating our real counterattack." He handed the fourth Elder a small flare gun, its polished surface gleaming in the dim light.

The 4th Elder accepted it with a bow, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation. He raised the flare gun, aimed it skyward, and fired.

A brilliant red streak shot into the air, bursting into a dazzling flare that illuminated the battlefield.

The artillery teams, seeing the signal, sprang into action. "The signal has been given! Begin the bombardment!" the officer in charge shouted out, his voice carrying over the din of preparation.

The sky erupted with the roar of missile launches and the thunderous crack of field artillery. White trails streaked across the heavens, followed by the glowing arcs of artillery shells. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

One second.... Two seconds.... then.....

The lower levels of the hive city trembled as if struck by a cataclysmic earthquake. Explosions ripped through the defensive lines, reducing buildings to rubble and obliterating everything in their path. The screams of the dying were drowned out by the deafening roar of destruction.

"Hohoho," the Grand Elder chuckled, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fourth Elder, order the troops to advance. It's time to claim our victory."

The Elders scrambled to relay his orders as the Grand Elder settled into his command chariot, a massive, heavily armored vehicle designed for battlefield command. Though it lacked offensive weaponry, its reinforced hull and powerful energy shield made it nearly impervious to attack.

As the chariot rumbled forward, the Grand Elder leaned back, his fingers steepled in front of him. "Let's see how the supreme commander enjoys a taste of his own medicine."

Meanwhile, in the heart of the supreme commander's fortress, chaos reigned. "Supreme Commander! It's not good! We've lost control of the entire first defensive line!" an officer reported while kneeling before his leader with a look of panic.

The supreme commander's expression remained stoic, though a flicker of irritation crossed his face. "Hmph. It doesn't matter. I never expected to hold the first line. That's why I concentrated our shield generators on the third and fourth lines."

The officer hesitated, his voice trembling as he asked, "Then… what about the second line, Commander?"

The supreme commander's face darkened, his jaw tightening as he turned to face the officer. The look in his eyes was one of cold, calculated ruthlessness... a look that sent a shiver down the officer's spine. For a moment, the room seemed to grow colder, the air thick with unspoken dread.

The officer swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He didn't dare ask again.

As the bombardment continued and the Grand Elder's forces advanced, the battlefield became a hellscape of fire and death.

Two titans of power clashed, their armies tearing each other apart in a desperate bid for dominance. And high above it all, Cleo watched through her monitors, her lips curling into a sly smile.

"Let them destroy each other," she murmured; her voice was calm and calculating. "It saves us the trouble."

Zynaria, lounging nearby, grinned. "You're evil, you know that? I like it."

Cleo shrugged. "They brought this on themselves. Now, let's see how long they last before they realize they're just pawns in our game."

After several grueling hours, the Elders had finally seized control of the supreme commander's first defensive line, pushing the battlefront to the second line.

The two forces were now mere meters apart, locked in a brutal, close-quarters struggle. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and blood, the ground littered with the wreckage of tanks, the bodies of fallen soldiers, and the shattered remnants of armored vehicles.

It was a scene of total carnage....

The Elders continued their relentless assault, sending wave after wave of infantry supported by tanks and armored vehicles.

While the supreme commander's troops fought valiantly, they were slowly being pushed back, inch by bloody inch, toward the third defensive line. The tide of battle seemed to be turning in the Elders' favor... or so it appeared.

"Grand Elder," the Second Elder spoke, his voice brimming with excitement, "it's only a matter of time before we fully conquer the second defensive line. Should we press the offensive to save time and ammunition? We could end this quickly."

The Grand Elder stroked his long white beard, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield. Despite the apparent advantage, a nagging feeling gnawed at the back of his mind.

Decades of scheming in the shadows, striking deals, and outmaneuvering his enemies had honed his instincts to a razor's edge. He could feel it... something wasn't right.

He turned to the Second Elder, his gaze piercing his very soul. "Very well. You may send some of your troops to speed things up… but..." he added, his voice dropping to a cautionary tone, "do not commit your elite forces or tanks. Keep it simple. We must not overextend ourselves."

The Second Elder's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Of course, Grand Elder! I'll make sure this battle is over in no time!" He turned to one of his guards and relayed his orders. "Mobilize five thousand of my private troops. Send them in now!"

Within minutes, five thousand soldiers surged forward like a flesh wave, crashing against the already weakened second defensive line.

The supreme commander's forces, battered and exhausted, began to falter under the onslaught. The Elders' troops pushed deeper, their momentum seemingly unstoppable.

From his command post, the supreme commander watched the chaos unfold. His lips curled into a manic grin as he entered a series of commands into the device on his arm. His laughter echoed through the room, dark and unhinged, sending a chill down the spines of his officers.

"Let them come," he muttered, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "Let them think they've won. They'll soon learn the price of their arrogance."

On the battlefield, the Elders troops celebrated their apparent victory, their cheers ringing out as they advanced.

But their celebration was short-lived. Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tremble. A low, ominous hum filled the air, growing louder with each passing second.

"What's happening!?" one of the soldiers shouted with his voice tinged with panic.

Before anyone could answer, the ground erupted. Hidden beneath the second defensive line were a series of seismic charges, planted by the supreme commander's forces and activated by his command.

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The explosions tore through the Elders troops, sending bodies and debris flying in all directions. The once-advancing wave of soldiers was now a scattered, broken force.

The Grand Elder's eyes widened as he watched the devastation unfold. His instincts had been right. "Fall back!" he roared, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Fall back now!"

But it was too late. The supreme commander's forces, lying in wait behind the third defensive line, launched a counterattack.

Artillery shells rained down on the disoriented Elders' troops, while armored vehicles surged forward to cut off their retreat. The tide of battle had shifted once again.

High above the battlefield, Cleo watched through her monitors; her expression was unreadable. "Fools," she murmured. "They never learn."

Zynaria, lounging nearby while smirking. "Looks like the supreme commander had a few tricks up his sleeve after all. This just got interesting."

Cleo's lips curled into a sly smile. "Let them weaken each other. When the time is right, we'll step in and clean up the mess."

After a full day of relentless fighting, the battlefield was a grim testament to the cost of war.

The Elders, who had begun their assault with a formidable force of one hundred thousand troops, now found themselves staring at the harsh reality of their losses....

Nearly twenty thousand soldiers lay dead or wounded, their bodies strewn across the shattered remains of the first and second defensive lines.

The once-proud advance had been crushed, their gains erased by the supreme commander's cunning strategy. They were back at square one... and the mood in the Elders camp was anything but optimistic.