I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1906: The Counter-Attack Trap!

On his command, the engines of his grand fleet ships roared to life simultaneously. The grand fleet didn’t manoeuvre or pivot; it simply accelerated. Like a massive battering ram, it headed straight for the heart of the Torank formation.

Hye’s target was the absolute centre. He didn’t care that the Torank wings were already beginning to fold inward. He ignored the tactical textbooks that preached about flank security. He marked the central point of the enemy’s presence and drove his forces directly into the mouth of the beast.

"You are absolutely insane!" Olana cried out from the side. She was staring at the tactical map, her face pale with disbelief. She couldn’t resist commenting on what she perceived as a suicidal blunder.

"You’re driving us into a pocket! You are going to get yourself completely encircled in the middle of their entire force! That isn’t bravery, Hye—it’s naive!"

Hye didn’t look away from his screens, but he did gesture for one of the floating orbs to pivot. The camera panned, bringing Olana’s startled and anxious face into the view of millions of viewers.

"Our friend from afar, Olana," Hye said, his voice laced with a calm, almost terrifying confidence, "believes I am making a grave mistake. She thinks I am walking into a slaughter."

He leaned back in his seat, looking into the lens with an arrogant smirk. "But my dear Olana, you should know by now: in the face of unstoppable might, no strategy works. Nothing they do can make me worry."

The words were breathtakingly arrogant, the kind of boast that usually preceded a spectacular fall. Yet, what followed next caused every viewer across the universe to suck in a cold breath of air.

As Hye’s fleet penetrated deep into the Torank lines, the enemy played their hand exactly as expected. The scattered Toranks battle groups surged forward, closing the gap behind Hye’s rear guard.

Within minutes, the encirclement was complete. On the broadcast, it looked like a massive glowing ring of enemy ships had swallowed Hye’s fleet whole.

Hye didn’t order a change in formation; he didn’t even tell his ships to turn and face the new threats. He simply let them sit there, an easy target in the eyes of the galaxy.

But just as the Toranks prepared to open fire and incinerate the "trapped" human forces, the sensor boards began to scream.

On the outer perimeter of the Torank circle, thousands of small, undetected ships appeared. A secondary force of small, fast ships blinked into existence, and from their bays, a deluge of black dots poured out—thousands upon thousands of them, moving with unnatural speed.

"You..." Olana’s voice trailed off as she spotted the new arrivals on the long-range scanners. The realisation hit her like a physical blow. "When did you deploy those ships?! How are they behind the enemy?"

It was the question on everyone’s mind—from the Torank admirals to the billions of people watching the live stream. Hye didn’t keep them in suspense. He mirrored the tactical feed to the broadcast, showing the hidden fleet’s coordinates.

"Do you remember when I sent out those initial scout ships to locate the Torank positions?" Hye asked his growing audience. He didn’t even look at the viewer count, which had just surpassed one billion and was climbing vertically.

"Those ships didn’t return to join my main force. They stayed behind. They stayed dormant, powered down in the cold dark, waiting for this exact heartbeat."

He switched the view to the exterior cameras of the flanking ships. "The Toranks thought they were the ones laying a trap. They thought I was the fool walking into their jaws. But the reality is the exact opposite. They didn’t surround me. I simply provided them a centre to congregate around so my hunters could find them all in one place."

The revelation was like pouring gasoline on an open flame. The galactic chat feeds exploded. But Hye wasn’t done with his performance.

Just as the Toranks tried to pivot their guns to deal with the incoming Soulers and Reapers attacking from their rear, the main grand fleet finally opened its hangar doors.

Thousands of black dots shot out like needles, heading directly toward the surrounding Toranks lines at sub-light speeds. They didn’t fire lasers; they released a second wave of Soulers and Reapers from within the circle.

The Toranks were no longer the hunters. They were the meat in a sandwich of merciless, ethereal blades. They were trapped between two waves of death that knew no fear and felt no pain.

Panicked, the Toranks’ ships began to fire blindly, their heavy cannons lighting up the void in a desperate attempt to clear the space around them. But it was useless. The beams of concentrated energy passed harmlessly through the shifting, ghostly forms of the Soulers.

In the end, despite their ancient lineage and vaunted military history, the Toranks failed to stop the advance of Hye’s warriors.

They lost the first clash—the opening movement of a much larger symphony of destruction—within a staggering ten-hour window. Hye had not only secured a decisive victory but had done so with negligible losses, all while salvaging a fortune in loot and abandoned enemy ships.

"You really are something," Olana whispered, her voice a mix of awe and terror as she watched the final reports scroll across the bridge’s main holoscreen. She had seen countless wars, but never one this lopsided. "You aren’t just a commander. You’re unstoppable."

"Not to that extent," Hye replied casually, his hands dancing across the control window. With a sharp flick, he shifted the focus of the universal broadcast.

The view changed from the grand scale of fleet combat to the gritty, terrifying interior of a Torank capital ship. The feed was visceral: it showed his Soulers and Reapers as blurred streaks of shadow, flashing through the corridors.

They passed through the Torank defenders like ghosts through a curtain, leaving behind a trail of falling bodies that collapsed like straw in the wake of a hurricane. There was no resistance, only the systematic harvest of lives.