From the first salvo of the enemy fleet's ambush, to the fleet's full-scale advance crashing into our formation, to mastering the timing of the second wave's ambush launch, and then to maneuvering during the ensuing slaughter, fire suppression positioning, and breakthrough routes... It seemed as if every move and shot of each warship transformed into strands of melody, tightly adhered to the baton of the opposing Commander.
No matter how our fleet's formations and tactics changed, these strands of demonic music remained tightly intertwined in this vast Star Domain, seamlessly connecting and flowing like water.
Feiyang Republic... Chuckna Republic... Whose fleet is this in front of us?! Who is their Commander?!
Bod's mind went completely blank.
