I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1867: Testing Something

This indiscriminate slaughter finally forced the two warring sides into a desperate, temporary alliance. The sensors of both fleets locked onto Hye’s vessel, and a combined barrage of plasma and kinetic energy began to hammer against his hull.

Hye wasn’t worried in the slightest. His warriors were operating the massive Outer Battlefield vessel with a cold, mechanical precision that bypassed the need for panic.

He watched the shield harmonics fluctuate as they absorbed the impact of a thousand combined volleys, the sturdy energy barriers holding firm against the onslaught. While the shields took the hits, Hye focused on what truly mattered: collecting the loot.

"I’m here primarily for the Dark Realm bones, but I won’t say no to collateral gains," Hye muttered, an evil smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He watched the automated inventory logs scroll past his vision at a dizzying speed. He was clearing out the treasure houses and cargo bays of entire capital ships in a matter of minutes.

In addition to the rare bones he sought, he was amassing a fortune in standard bones, refined ores, and countless personal inventories from high-ranking officers.

Even the ships themselves, once cleared of their crews, were being marked for collection.

Hye didn’t hesitate to summon his spatial storage to claim the empty husks of the enemy vessels; even if they were battered, their scrap value and salvaged components were worth a king’s ransom.

For an entire day, the chase continued. Hye played a deadly game of cat and mouse with the two fleets, slowly whittling them down ship by ship. He claimed the bones, stripped the inventories bare, and added more and more vessels to his growing personal arsenal.

By his own count, he already possessed enough firepower to form three grand fleets of Outer Universe ships—ships that were technologically superior to almost anything the local races possessed.

Yet, he still wanted more. He was acutely aware of the mystery surrounding the Outer Battlefield; he didn’t know exactly how dire the situation was in the deep void, and he intended to be over-prepared for any horror he might encounter.

As for the ships belonging to this universe, Hye viewed them with a certain level of disdain. Their tech was familiar, predictable, and ultimately inferior for the kind of war he intended to wage. However, he did find one use for them.

He ordered his warriors to prioritise scavenging every atmospheric suit and combat rig they could find. This, he realised, was the final piece of his logistical puzzle.

"Shall I ask Olana to source more suits?" Hye wondered for a moment. He had already acquired a massive shipment of over a hundred million suits from Moth, but he knew that as his army grew, even that number would eventually be insufficient.

However, the true prize from his deal with the Hescos wasn’t just the physical goods—it was the blueprint for manufacturing high-grade suits.

"I think I have enough for the immediate future," he reasoned. "One hundred million suited-up Soulers and Reapers? There isn’t a single force in the known universe that can stop an army of that scale."

When he factored in the millions of suits he had already salvaged from his previous wars, combined with the new shipment and the manufacturing lines he had set up with Old Gan back home, he knew he was sitting on a military force of unprecedented capability.

He expected his kingdom to have millions more ready by the time he returned from the expedition.

Time, however, was running short. He needed to finish this harvest and prepare for the departure. To expedite the process, he decided to test the effectiveness of deploying his elite forces in massive, coordinated waves.

He geared up twenty million Soulers and Reapers in their respective combat suits, filled an entire auxiliary fleet of Outer Universe ships with them, and launched them in every direction across the battlefield.

The effect was instantaneous and terrifying. A sudden, black gush of death poured from the hangars of his fleet, catching both sides completely off guard.

The battlefield, which had been a clash of lasers and missiles, was suddenly overwhelmed by the sight of twenty million dark-armoured reapers jumping from ship to ship with the grace of predators.

After a few hours of trying to combat this new, overwhelming tactic, the generals of both the allied and enemy fleets noticed a chilling pattern.

These weren’t just boarding parties; they were an unstoppable tide. They watched on their monitors as the suited-up warriors bypassed external defences, phased through hulls, and began the systematic deconstruction of their entire combined force.

The sight was as remarkable as it was terrifying. What struck the observers most was not just the sheer number of warriors, but their uncanny ability to bypass the sturdy, multi-layered protective shields of the outer universe ships without a single hiccup.

The shimmering energy barriers, designed to withstand the heat of suns and the impact of relativistic projectiles, offered no more resistance than a summer mist to the suited-up Soulers and Reapers.

When the command centres of both fleets saw the overwhelming flood of these dark figures emerging from the airlocks and hull breaches of their sister ships, a collective realisation of doom settled over them. They weren’t just fighting a superior force; they were facing their own inevitable ends.

Panic, cold and absolute, finally broke the temporary alliance. Many captains tried to disengage, pushing their engines into the red as they attempted to retreat and flee from the death-suited warriors that haunted the corridors of their vessels.

Yet, Hye had no intention of letting them escape so easily. He wasn’t finished with his harvest.

He scattered his captured vessels across the sector, creating a wide, suffocating net designed to encircle and block any path of retreat his prey might dream of.

Despite his efforts, the vastness of space offered too many shadows. Some of the faster, more agile ships managed to slip through the gaps in his blockade, vanishing into the lightless depths of the void or retreating back into the chaotic folds of the outer battlefield.