I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1892: The Human Emperor!

Hye's words came through the comms loud and clear, making Olana suspect his true intentions. He wasn't just directing these orders toward his warriors and captains; he was broadcasting this to everyone watching his grand fleet. It was a declaration of war against the status quo of the universe.

Initially, the seasoned commanders of the entrenched factions had dismissed him. They viewed him as nothing more than a bragging, arrogant newcomer at the helm of an untested force—a boy who hadn't lived long enough to realise there are always heavens above the skies, and monsters far greater than himself lurking in the dark. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

The response was immediate and calculated. The closest orbital forces began to realign, their engines flaring as they moved in perfect unison. From three distinct vectors, they converged on Hye's position, seeking to pincer his grand fleet and snuff out his perceived insolence in a single, overwhelming volley of plasma and steel.

However, the catastrophic destruction the observers anticipated never materialised. The vanguard of Hye's fleet—ships forged in the harsh, unforgiving laws of the outer universe—stepped into the fray.

These vessels moved with a predatory grace, positioning themselves at the forefront to act as impenetrable shields for the rest of the armada. As enemy fire splashed harmlessly against their advanced hulls, the bays hissed open.

Tons of Soulers and Reapers, already suited for vacuum combat, were launched into the void like a swarm of angry hornets, screaming toward their designated targets.

What followed were long, agonising hours of unexplained terror, played out in high definition before the eyes of everyone monitoring the battle.

Hye's mighty warriors performed with the lethal perfection that had become their hallmark. By committing such an overwhelming force and sheer numbers from the opening gambit, the initial impact was far more intense than anything this sector had ever witnessed.

Hye himself remained stationary, floating in the heart of the void, his expression unreadable as he monitored the chaotic influx of data from the various sector-wide broadcasts and communication channels.

"They are puzzled... and they are terrified," Hye muttered, a thin smile of satisfaction touching his lips. He scrolled through the frantic comments and desperate posts flooding the public channels. The bravado of the local lords was dissolving into static. "Good. It's finally time for them to understand exactly who they are dealing with."

Inside the flagship, Olana's eyes suddenly widened as a specific notification pinged across her command console. Amidst the deluge of panicked reports and tactical warnings, this particular post stood out, fueled by a unique and recognisable digital signature.

"Come and learn about the Human Emperor who is crushing your forces without breaking a sweat…" Olana read the headline aloud, a genuine chuckle escaping her. "What an incredibly arrogant way to introduce yourself. You really have no shame, do you?"

She watched the analytics in real-time. As she had predicted, the psychological bait was irresistible. In times of absolute chaos and blinding fear, nothing attracts the eye quite like unwavering arrogance. Almost every active consciousness in the sector clicked the link, and the post went viral within seconds.

The content, however, was far more than a simple introduction. It was a masterclass in psychological warfare. Hye hadn't just posted a biography; he had curated a montage of his most brutal conquests.

The post featured high-fidelity recordings of past battles, the desperate and grovelling offers he had received from world-owners in the previous sector, and, most cuttingly, footage of once-proud armadas tucking tail and fleeing into the dark, abandoning all hope of claiming their territory.

The message was direct, simple, and utterly demoralising.

"I truly hope there aren't too many idiots left in this sector," Hye mused, his eyes tracking the tactical overlay. On the monitors, his Soulers and Reapers were no longer just fighting; they were harvesting.

They tore through the hulls of the enemy flagships, venting atmospheres and butchering crews with surgical efficiency. The space around them had been transformed into a grandiose graveyard of drifting scrap and frozen bodies.

Despite the absolute dominance of his forces, Hye didn't call for a ceasefire. He wanted the galaxy to hear him.

"Go," he commanded, his voice carrying through the comms like a death knell. "Travel fast, travel light. Crush every single force that dares to stand in your path."

He spoke the words aloud, acting as though his warriors required verbal instructions rather than the direct, silent link to his mind. He knew the broadcast would pick it up. He wanted the world-owners to hear the mundanity in his tone—as if he were ordering the clearing of weeds rather than the extinction of an army.

For many of the local rulers, those words were the final straw. They had spent decades, if not centuries, building their small empires. They had paid exorbitant riches to acquire black-market ships, spent generations training their militias, and formed what they believed were respectable, moderately sized fleets.

They were under the delusion that they stood a chance against the common forces of the universe. They had hoped to put on a grand show, a stage where they could prove their uniqueness and attract the patronage of the Great Races.

But that dream was shattered. All their planning, all their wealth, and all their perceived strength were rendered meaningless by the simple, crushing presence of a single man. The "Grand Stage" they had prepared for themselves had become their funeral pyre.

In the wake of the initial slaughter, a heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the sector. For the local lords and world-owners, the luxury of long-term planning had been stripped away.

All of their meticulously crafted scenarios, their political manoeuvring, and their grand strategies were now reduced to a single, binary question: Would they bow before Hye, or would they break against him?

Those among them who possessed a modicum of wisdom understood the urgency of the moment. They knew that in the wake of such a paradigm shift, the early birds secured the best seats at the post-war council table.

To them, the name "Hye" was a complete enigma. No history books mentioned him; no intelligence reports had predicted his arrival.