I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse

Chapter 1917: Weʼll Randomly Pick the Generals

”I want the new faces—the ones who rose to prominence during our post-apocalyptic era. They havenʼt been featured in the galactic broadcasts yet. They are shadows. We can leave them behind to act as the silent wardens of our territory.”

”I had originally intended for them to go with you to gain experience,” Legend said, pausing as he mentally reshuffled his deployment charts. ”But I can change the assignments if that is your wish.”

”Iʼll need more than just warm bodies. I need a few truly capable individuals to handle any sudden pressure,” Hye said, his voice dropping into a demanding tone as he began to list the necessary qualities.

”There must be a balance: at least a few generals who are battle-hardened in conventional warfare, complemented by a large group of new, hungry generals. I want people eager to prove themselves, capable of switching between a stubborn defence and a relentless offence at a momentʼs notice…”

As he continued to outline the rigorous standards for the ”home guard,” the expressions on his friendsʼ faces became increasingly unsightly. A heavy gloom seemed to settle over Lily, Sara, and Legend.

”You do realise,” Lily sighed, her shoulders dropping as she rubbed her temples, ”that you just described almost every single name we meticulously prepared to join you on the expedition? Youʼre stripping the vanguard to pad the walls.”

”We had Major as our primary candidate to lead the home defences, but now youʼve reassigned him to the Hescos mission and want to replace his void with our best rising stars,” Sara said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Legend remained silent, but the way his jaw tightened conveyed a thousand words of protest that he was too disciplined to speak aloud.

”We have to improvise,” Hye countered. He knew he was asking for the impossible at the eleventh hour, but the battlefield had changed the moment that hexagonal weapon fired. ”This situation isnʼt something we asked for, and it certainly isnʼt ideal. But we have to go through it together, and we have to do it right.”

His words landed with the weight of a mountain, leaving the room in a deep, uncomfortable silence. They all knew he wasnʼt the one who had manufactured these dire conditions—the Toranks had seen to that—but the burden of the ”right” decision still felt like a chokehold.

They needed to pick the most suitable people for a job that offered no glory, only the heavy responsibility of protecting the cradle of their race.

”How about this,” Lily suggested, her eyes moving between Sara, Legend, and the other seated generals. ”We can leave the most experienced, senior generals behind to anchor the territory.

We can send only the youngest, most promising officers with Hye to the outer battlefield. There, away from the distractions of the home front, he can properly assess them and hand-pick the ones most suitable to be nourished into future leaders.”

”That wonʼt do,” Hye interrupted sharply, cutting her proposal down before it could gain momentum. ”The oldest generals—the ones like yourselves—must come with me to the outer battlefield.”

”We can go later!” Legend spoke up, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic sadness. The thought of being left behind while the true war raged was clearly agonising. ”Itʼs not like this will be your last visit to the front lines, Hye. We can manage the territory now and join the fight once things are stabilised.”

”You are missing the fundamental point,” Hye said, slowly shaking his head as he stood up, his presence filling the hall. ”I need the core power of my kingdom—my most trusted and capable generals—to cross over to the next level of power, and be on equal footing with ancient races and forces.

I managed to upgrade your systems forcibly using a backdoor, but that was just a temporary solution. To compete with the ancient power and overwhelming might of the other top races, we need to keep levelling up in the harshest environments possible, doing it the old way, the common and known way in the universe.”

The room went still.

Everyone noticed the subtle but profound shift in how Hye spoke. He no longer referred to them as a ragtag group of survivors or a fledgling kingdom; he described himself, his generals, and his territory as equal to one of the top races and powers.

Hearing him place them on the same pedestal as the ancient, cosmic empires left everyone in the room breathless—a mixture of fierce pride and the crushing weight of newfound responsibility.

”Then…”

”Weʼll randomly pick the generals left behind,” Isac said, stepping in to finalise the logistics before the atmosphere became too heavy to manage. ”Iʼll curate the list of names myself. Iʼll ensure that we select at least two of our most capable rising stars—one to accompany Major to the Hescos, and the other to remain here as the ultimate line of defence for the territory.”

Isacʼs proposal received unanimous approval. With the chain of command settled, the meeting shifted toward the elephant in the room—the one topic everyone had been desperately trying to ignore.

”What do you truly think of that weapon?” Hye asked.

The moment the words left his lips, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The faces of his inner circle paled, the bravado of a moment ago replaced by a haunting uncertainty.

”To be honest,” Old Gan was the first to speak, his voice rasping with frustration, ”Iʼve spent the last few days locked in the research department with every lead scientist and archivist we have. So far, no one has even the slightest clue what that thing actually is. It defies our current understanding of physics and mana-conductive alloys.”

”Hye said itʼs similar to a godʼs power, but exponentially stronger than anything heʼs encountered,” Legend added, pausing as he looked down at his hands. ”Iʼve been racking my brain, but I donʼt recall seeing anything like that during the apocalypse, even though we all went through the same system trials!”