I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1960: Bringing in Scary Reinforcements!

[You will need to voluntarily lower the planetary shields and cancel the orbital defences. Let that thing approach your homeland unchecked...]

Hye opened the communication with a suggestion so profoundly insane it felt like a declaration of surrender, a formal acceptance of the Hescos’ extinction. It was a strategy that flew in the face of every survival instinct Moth possessed.

Yet, as Hye continued to speak, the cold, sharp logic of the plan began to cut through Moth’s panic. Hye wasn’t planning a simple rescue mission; he was architecting a historical catastrophe.

He intended to transform this war into a moment of such profound, shameful defeat for the Toranks that the scars would remain on their race for eternity.

[You do realise how absolutely suicidal this plan is, right?!] Moth’s response was a burst of text. He could feel the cold sweat on his forehead. [We aren’t just gambling with the lives of our most elite combatants and the core of our leadership; we are betting the entire existence of our homeland! If even one variable fails, we are erased!]

[At least this way you are fighting a battle with an actual hope of victory,] Hye countered, his words sharp, devoid of fear.

He wasn’t fazed by Moth’s outrage. He knew the Hescos were already backed into a corner where conventional tactics were merely a slow way to die. Without a radical, high-stakes plan, the empire was already fighting a losing war. Loss meant the end of their history. Moth knew this, and that silence was his unspoken agreement.

[Fine!] Moth conceded, the word heavy with the weight of the coming gamble. [I will begin the internal arrangements here to facilitate the blackout... But I have a non-negotiable condition...]

[I know. You won’t pull the trigger on the defence grid until I have the old man in my hands,] Hye replied, rolling his eyes as he paced the bridge of his flagship. [Rest assured. At a certain point in this operation, you alone won’t have the authority or the raw power to execute the final step of the plan anyway.]

[Which is what, exactly?!] Moth was reeling. He couldn’t believe that after the madness of lowering the shields, Hye still had more hidden layers to this scheme.

[As I told you, you don’t have what it takes for the final stroke. We need the Grand Elder’s help and influence to make the trap snap shut. So, we need him alive,] Hye said, then abruptly severed the topic.

He left Moth with nothing but the necessity of obedience. Left in the dark, Moth began the task of preparing the grid for a voluntary shutdown, a move that would look like treason to anyone else watching.

Once the plan was set up with Moth, Hye turned his full attention back to the battlefield.

"Tsk. Consider this your lucky day," he muttered to himself, speaking about the surrounding enemy forces. "I simply have no more time to waste on your subversion."

He wasn’t pleased with the change in plans. He hated leaving potential assets on the table, but the clock was the only enemy he couldn’t subvert. With the God Weapon closing in, every minute spent amassing more puppets was a minute closer to the planetary shield being the only thing between them and dust. He had to move, rescue the Grand Elder, and get into position before the weapon reached the star system’s edge.

Hye shifted his strategy with brutal suddenness. He executed two massive manoeuvres simultaneously.

First, he recalled his scattered warriors and the grand fleets back into his inventory. For the subverted enemy forces he had gained, the hundreds of thousands of ships and ground troops, he didn’t have the inventory authority to do that.

Instead, he signalled them to converge on a single, massive coordinate point. The moment they were clustered, he tore open a grand portal leading directly into his Second Earth world, ushering them into the safety of his private dimension.

The tactical shift was so abrupt that it left a huge vacuum in the enemy’s formation. The Toranks commanders were frozen, their sensors screaming as the massive force that had been harrying them simply... Vanished.

Then came the second step. This was the reason he had demanded the Grand Elder unlock the local space-lock. Hye opened a massive series of portals, all linked back to a singular, teeming location within the Hescos territories.

The enemies, seeing the emptiness and the portals, assumed Hye was fleeing. They pushed their engines to the breaking point, their ships and infantry racing forward to catch him before he could escape.

Just as the first enemy ships reached the threshold of the portals, a massive, terrifying series of roars erupted from them. The sound was a primal, vibrating bass that stopped the entire Torank army in its tracks.

"I’ll leave these here as a parting gift for you," Hye evilly grinned.

He gave the final order. From the portals, a tidal wave of nature’s most violent creations, his insects and Wyverns, surged into the battlefield. They didn’t need a reason to attack; they only needed targets to kill.

A true massacre erupted as the force of nature collided with the force of technology. The insects tore through hull plating like paper, and the Wyverns’ breaths turned elite infantry into ash.

The moment the last of his biological swarm passed through the portal, Hye terminated his technique. The black sphere collapsed into a single point of light, and the portals snapped shut, leaving the Toranks to deal with the hungry, endless swarm he had unleashed.

With his rear cleared and the enemy distracted by the chaos of the monsters, Hye’s ship ignited its engines, streaking like a bolt toward the Grand Elder’s location.

Hye had kept those biological nightmares dormant for the duration of his fight, a calculated reserve for the perfect moment to use. Now that he had unleashed them into the heart of the enemy formation, he performed a final, cold act of severance: he cut his mental connection to the swarm.

He let them revert to their raw, monstrous natures, knowing that a creature acting on pure, predatory instinct was far more unpredictable, and thus more dangerous, than one under his direct control.