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I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1884: Who Said I Don’t Have a Plan?!
Hye's first thought was that the retreating forces were asking for a temporary ceasefire or a backroom alliance, but the reality was far more explosive.
"The various fleets that planned to attack the indigenous worlds have fully retreated. Instead of fighting, the leaders of those worlds have sent official envoys to you. They are asking to officially join your kingdom and become part of your sovereign forces."
"What the hell?!!"
The news hit Hye like a physical blow. He stood up so fast his chair skidded across the deck, his voice echoing in a shout of genuine, unadulterated shock.
"I felt the same way, hehehe," Olana said, looking immensely amused by the sight of the usually unflappable Hye being caught off guard. "It seems your little performance out there—turning a battlefield into a graveyard in minutes—took everyone by surprise. It left a deep, terrifying impression on the new world owners. I can tell you right now, usually only the Big Races get this kind of immediate submission. I mean every word!"
Hye blinked, his mind racing as he pulled up the live feeds of the various diplomatic channels. It was true. The "Application to Join" notifications were scrolling faster than the screen could update.
"Okay, this is new," he said, pausing to think. He had initially dropped the idea of claiming these worlds because the "hustle"—the grind of conquering indigenous populations while fending off opportunistic invaders—was too time-consuming.
But now, the invaders had been sent packing by his Soulers, and the locals were offering him the keys to their homes on a silver platter.
"This changes everything."
He stood lost in thought for five minutes, his expression shifting from shock to a cold, predatory resolve. It was a look Olana would never forget for as long as she lived. "When the king is offered a free meal, he shouldn't say no. Let's go. We'll take all of them."
"Yes, that's great, but we can't just move!" she began to complain, but Hye was already moving toward the hangar again. He opened a massive portal directly in front of the battleship, returned to the bridge, and took the controls, steering the massive ship through the shimmering gateway.
"...We need a strategy! We need to see how to fully absorb these populations! Wait... How can you just fly in there without a plan?!!"
Every world that had requested to join had provided a digital map and a sovereign mark. Hye scrolled through these at lightning speed, recognising the planetary coordinates. Luckily, his habit of saving detailed bookmarks for every strategic location in the sector was paying off.
"Who said I don't have a plan?" He gave her a sideways, amused look as the battleship entered the high orbit of the first planet on the list. "The plan is simple: my ship visits every single planet and makes the deal happen on the spot. Order the leaders to come on board. They can sign the accession treaties in person, right here."
Hye's flagship hung in the void, a silent, predatory silhouette looming just outside the engagement range of the world's defensive perimeter.
The sudden appearance of a single vessel, materialising out of a portal and coming to a dead stop in front of a planetary defence force, sent ripples of confusion and alarm through the local command centres.
To the indigenous people below, this was a moment of profound uncertainty: who was this pilot, and what force did this lone ship represent?
Olana gripped the edge of her console, her knuckles white. She was convinced he had finally lost his mind. Requesting a high-level diplomatic summit in such a vulnerable fashion was suicide.
If the local leaders—or any cloaked invaders lingering in the debris—held devious intentions, they could vaporise this single flagship in a concentrated volley.
He's just one man, she thought frantically. Even if he commands the Soulers and Reapers, he is the lynchpin. If he dies here, those terrifying warriors become an ownerless, directionless horde. He's putting the entire empire on the line for a handshake!
Yet, within the next thirty minutes, Olana watched as the tactical landscape shifted so violently she was forced to retract every doubt she had ever held. Hye wasn't just waiting; he was orchestrating. He stepped into the specialised gate-room of the ship and opened a series of massive, synchronised portals.
In a rhythmic, terrifying display of logistical mastery, the scattered fleets he had deployed across the sector began to pour through the gateways. The twenty separate, smaller strike forces he had used as decoys merged into a single, cohesive armada.
By the time the half-hour mark hit, the lone flagship was no longer alone. It was the heart of a massive, suffocating show of power.
The sheer density of high-grade warships surrounding the planet created a gravitational well of pure dread that seemed to vibrate through the very souls of those watching from the surface.
Even Olana, who stood on Hye's side of the bridge, felt a cold sweat break across her brow. The grand fleet was a physical manifestation of Hye's absolute dominance.
"You… you really do know how to put on a show, don't you?" she muttered, her voice barely a whisper.
Hye didn't look away from the viewscreen. He offered a thin, sharp smile but remained silent. He was acutely aware of the risks. He had weighed the possibility of this being an elaborate trap—a coordinated effort by the desperate world leaders to lure the "Soul King" into a kill zone.
His response to that risk was characteristic: he gave up the potential loot in twenty different sectors to concentrate his entire military presence in one spot. He wanted to send a message that would echo across the galactic sub-sectors: If you want to trap me, I will gladly step into your cage and crush you from the inside out.
"Any news from them?" Hye asked, his voice calm as he checked his chronometer. "It's been thirty minutes. Is there any sign of these leaders coming to the table?"







