I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse

Chapter 1871: You Are Giving Big Races Far More Credit Than They Deserve!

Moments later, a confirmation ping echoed through the bridge. One trillion suits were now registered in his warehouse.

Looking at the sheer, staggering magnitude of that number, Hye allowed himself a small, inward sigh of satisfaction.

In the face of his bones and the bottomless depth of his wealth, there was truly nothing in this universe he couldnʼt grasp.

”Youʼve been remarkably silent for a long time,” Hye noted, turning his attention back to Olana.

Following the exchange, she had retreated into a quiet, focused state. He had initially assumed she was still nursing her pride after the ”insult” of travelling in the scout ship, but her silence felt different now—more analytical than emotional.

”Iʼm working, Hye,” she said, rolling her eyes as if the very mention of the small ship was a nuisance she had already filed away. ”Iʼve already moved past the travel arrangements. Since weʼve arrived early and have some breathing room before the protection period expires, I thought it would be better to study our competition. We need to see exactly who has gathered at the border and how much theyʼve actually prepared for the upcoming wars.”

”Thatʼs a sound plan,” Hye said, relaxing into his command seat and lacing his fingers behind his head.

”Though I imagine the results will be predictable. The big races always dominate these events. Iʼd bet the Toranks, the Hescos, and the Hectors are the ones who have arrived with the largest fleets and the most sophisticated equipment.”

”You are wrong,” Olana countered, her voice sharp and unexpected. She turned the projection orb, replacing the image of the bone with a live sensor sweep of the sectorʼs edge.

”The situation isnʼt even close to what youʼre imagining. According to the long-range scans and intelligence pings, the three big races you just mentioned havenʼt sent a single formal fleet at all.”

”What?!!” Hye sat bolt upright, his relaxed posture vanishing in an instant. ”Thatʼs impossible. This is a hot zone with a hundred unlocking worlds. Isnʼt this exactly the kind of event where the big races lead the charge to expand their empires?”

”You would think so,” Olana said, pointing to the fleet signatures appearing on the screen. ”But look at the heraldry. Look at the ship designs. The top forces currently stationed at the relay points donʼt belong to the Hegemons. Instead, the most powerful armadas here belong to medium-sized kingdoms and independent planetary federations. The giants are nowhere to be seen.”

Hye stared at the screen, his mind racing through the political implications. If the big races were sitting this one out, it either meant they were distracted by a much larger threat—or they knew something about this specific sector that made the risk outweigh the reward.

Olana watched the flicker of confusion on Hyeʼs face and let out a long, weary sigh. ”You are giving those big races far more credit than they actually deserve,” she said, her voice tinged with a cynical edge.

She leaned against the command console, the blue light of the holographic sector map reflecting in her eyes. ”In ancient times, yes, those races possessed an insatiable intensity. They were expansionist predators that would scour the stars for every scrap of territory. But in our recent era, theyʼve changed. Theyʼve grown stagnant, bloated by their own success. Unless there is a planet already controlled by their specific kin, they rarely take the initiative to launch an offensive campaign against others.”

”Is that so?” Hye asked, his voice laced with scepticism. ”Does that mean out of one hundred worlds, there isnʼt a single planet where the apocalypse was won by the elites of those three races?”

He found it nearly impossible to believe. In a cluster of one hundred planets, each undergoing the brutal refinement of an apocalypse, the law of averages suggested that at least a handful would be dominated by members of the Toranks, the Hescos, or the Hectors.

”Itʼs not quite like that,” Olana said, slowly shaking her head as she adjusted the data stream. ”It is an unwritten custom in this part of the universe to never raid or interfere with planets already controlled by any of the big three.

If a member of a Hegemon race wins an apocalypse and establishes control, the surrounding cluster of planets effectively becomes a protectorate.

In those cases, the big races exert total control, and no one—not even the medium kingdoms—dares to challenge them.”

”I see,” Hye muttered, lapsing into a deep, calculating silence.

He had entered this sector under the impression that the competition was a zero-sum game played only by the giants of the universe. He had expected to be the mouse scurrying between the feet of fighting titans.

He never expected the titans to have grown so complacent that they would leave the acquisition of new worlds to the smaller, weaker races.

To him, the idea of stopping the expansion of oneʼs empire was a foreign concept, a sign of decay.

Seeing him lost in thought, Olana misunderstood the source of his preoccupation. She thought he was feeling discouraged by the sudden realisation of the political complexity.

”Donʼt think too much about it,” she said softly, her voice dropping to a comforting register. ”I know how you see yourself. I know you believe you are fit to compete for these planets, and I truly believe you are capable of winning many of these battles and seizing control of a few worlds. But…”

”But I have no time to waste. I know,” Hye interrupted, his voice heavy with a hint of genuine regret. He stared at the map of the one hundred worlds, seeing them now not as a chaotic battlefield, but as a missed opportunity.

”If I had the luxury of time, I would have fought to control every single one of these planets myself. I would have made them the foundation of my own Hegemony.”

”I know you would have,” she whispered. For reasons she couldnʼt quite articulate, seeing the weight of that regret on him pained her.