I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1859: The Dethroned Worlds

The realisation hit her like a physical blow. Her own curiosity and vanity had led her into this trap. She had underestimated the human ruthlessness, and now she was paying the ultimate price.

Hye didn’t settle for a standard labour agreement. He produced the most expensive, soul-binding slave contract available in the universal system—a document designed to bypass racial protections and ancestral seals.

As the threads forced her hand to the parchment, the golden ink flared with a malevolent light, anchoring itself into her very essence.

For several hours after the signing, Olana remained in a state of shock and defiance. She screamed insults, cursed his lineage, and wept with the fury of a fallen queen.

Hye ignored the noise. He had work to do. He retreated into a meditative state, focusing on the Heart Crystal within his soul.

The environment inside his spiritual core was saturated with the lingering energy of the billions of bones he had processed over the years.

Even without a fresh sacrifice, the ambient power was enough to support a massive agricultural project.

He began planting the U.stat crystals he had gained from Moth, sowing them into the rich, spiritual soil of his soul. He watched as they began to sprout into crystalline saplings, their branches heavy with the potential for fruit.

However, he knew the limitations of natural growth. Without a fresh infusion of high-grade bones, these trees would take weeks to reach full maturity.

He had one month to ready his army, and a single harvest wouldn’t be enough. He needed more. He needed to return to the hunt.

While he was lost in the industrial hum of his spiritual nursery, the contract finally completed its work.

The sophisticated mental shields and ancestral blessings Olana carried were slowly ground down by the system-enforced magic. The defiance in her eyes faded, replaced by a glassy, terrifyingly serene devotion.

She stood up, smoothed her dress, and walked toward the dais. She didn’t scream this time. Instead, she knelt at the base of his throne, her forehead touching the cold stone.

"Olana greets the Mighty Lord," she whispered, her voice devoid of its former arrogance. "I am under your command. I exist only to fulfil your needs and desires."

"That’s better," Hye said, opening his eyes. He motioned for her to sit on a chair nearby. The transformation was unsettling, but he didn’t have the luxury of guilt.

"Now, let’s talk business. Tell me exactly how you will provide the artificial planets and the crystals I require."

"Answering the Lord," she replied, her tone echoing the fanatical loyalty of Lucas and the Soulers. "As a ranking member of the resort’s founding family, I hold an individual inheritance that is immediately accessible. Within my private inventory, I have one thousand artificial planets ready for deployment. Furthermore, I possess a strategic reserve of U.stat crystals intended for emergency resort maintenance. If my Lord desires, I can initiate a direct transfer to your inventory immediately."

"That’s not enough," Hye said, cutting her off with a sharp, dismissive wave. "One thousand planets is a drop of rain in a desert. I need hundreds of thousands. I need a stable, industrial-scale pipeline for artificial worlds and a flood of U.stat crystals that doesn’t stop until my legions are fully awakened. Tell me, Olana—what is the fastest, most secure way to facilitate this?"

"Answering the Mighty Lord," Olana replied, her voice steady and devoid of its former arrogance. "I can leverage my status as a high-ranking scion of the resort’s founding family. My house is a behemoth in the intergalactic trading guilds. If I place high-priority requisitions through our private channels, merchant impacts, and logistics groups across the quadrant will scramble to fulfil them. No one refuses a request backed by the credit of the Merchant Scions."

"That’s exactly what I want to hear," Hye said, though his expression remained grim. He checked his internal ledger of golden coins and assets, letting out a long, weary sigh.

"However, to fuel trade deals on that scale, I need more liquid capital. I need more bones."

"Bones? I... I don’t follow, Lord." Olana was visibly startled, her eyes widening as she likely imagined a horrific sacrifice.

Hye dismissed her fears with a casual motion. "It’s a unique resource tied to my growth—the currency of my specific path. To get what I need, I have to immerse myself in warzones. I need the energy of massive, bloody battles. Do you know of a theatre of war where I can harvest without drawing the immediate ire of the Sovereign races?"

"The apocalyptic trials can be a source of constant conflict for those in the lower tiers..." Olana began.

"I need battles happening in the real universe," Hye interrupted, his impatience flashing. "I need a stage where I can operate with my fleet and my legions, not just a system-generated simulation."

"If that is the Lord’s requirement, then you should seek out the Dethroned Worlds," Olana said. Her next words came as a total shock to Hye, revealing a layer of cosmic politics he had never even suspected.

According to Olana, every world that successfully navigated its apocalypse was granted a "Protection Period"—a century of isolation to consolidate its power.

Hye was well aware of this; his own world was currently under such a shield. However, he had never considered what happened when the clock hit zero.

The moment that protection was lifted, the world was "Dethroned." It became a fair game.

Sovereign races, merchant guilds, and mercenary fleets would swarm the sector to strip the planet of its treasures, its resources, and even its population for the slave markets.

These were wars of absolute annihilation, and because they took place in unclaimed space, any race could participate without formally declaring war on another.

"It is a universal law," Olana explained. "Dethroned wars have no respect for lineage. You can enter the fray, claim the loot, and vanish back into the void. It is the graveyard where new empires are born, and old ones are recycled."