I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse

Chapter 1935: They Need to Sleep!!

”I still ended up with way more than I expected,” he admitted, his voice softening as he surveyed the sky. Tens of thousands of Wyverns were currently circling his grand fleet, their massive wings beating a steady, rhythmic thrum in the air.

They showed no signs of their former hostility. Though their bodies were riddled with wounds, Hye knew their resilience was legendary.

Given enough time, their bodies would knit back together. These were creatures born of the furnace; a few holes in their wings wouldnʼt keep them grounded for long.

”Close to fifty thousand of them. Not bad at all,” Hye casually inspected his new assets. He had doubled his initial estimates for the haul. But even more significant than the living army was the silent treasure now stored in his inventory.

His biggest gains were the high-grade bones he had looted during the ten-hour slaughter. ”A few more fights like this and Iʼll end up replenishing my entire reserve! This place is a gold mine.”

The lingering sting of having paid a literal mountain of bones to the Hescos finally began to fade. In a twisted irony, the Hescos were paying him back with interest, though they probably didnʼt realise it.

If he continued to encounter these high-density monster nests, he would leave this solar system with far more wealth than he had possessed when he arrived.

Yet, before he could celebrate this grand success, the shipʼs body began to buzz in a familiar, frantic frequency.

”Sht! Itʼs that black sphere again!”

Hyeʼs head snapped up toward the zenith. High above, descending from the cold reaches of outer space, the threatening silhouette of a black sphere was slowly manifesting. It didnʼt make a sound, but the air was already beginning to vibrate with that bone-deep, rhythmic humming. He didnʼt hesitate this time. He knew the devastating power of that celestial pressure.

With a flurry of mental commands, he moved everything and everyone under his command—the grand fleet, the ninety-five thousand insects, and the fifty thousand Wyverns—accelerating at full tilt to put miles between them and the descent path of that black disk.

”So… Before night falls, that thing arrives as a harbinger,” Hye observed, glancing at the chronometer. He noticed that as the black sphere moved into a lower orbit, the harsh glare of the central star began to dim, and a heavy darkness started to bleed across the world.

”This is a fascinating celestial cycle. But the world is vast… I wonder, does this world have more than one of these scary black spheres?”

His intuition told him he was right. That celestial black sphere appeared like clockwork before the darkness took hold. It was likely one of many such bodies orbiting the planet, perhaps acting as natural atmospheric regulators or remnants of ancient, cosmic bodies. As long as he remained attentive to the warning signs, he wouldnʼt be caught off guard by the insane pressure again.

Realising this made Hye turn his focus toward a different, more practical problem. He still didnʼt have a firm grasp on the length of the day-night cycle in this system. He decided to start a precise calculation, tracking every minute that passed from the disappearance of the black sphere until the next sunrise.

As before, the night passed with a strange, eerie calm. There were no roars in the distance, no sudden attacks. However, he noticed a troubling development among his new companions. The movement of his insects and Wyverns became sluggish, their flight patterns erratic and heavy.

”Donʼt tell me they want to sleep!” He raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. It was a stark reminder of the differences between controlling intelligent, system-integrated races and raw monsters. His warriors didnʼt need rest in the traditional sense when they were in token form, but these creatures were entities following their primal instincts.

He had to keep his technique running 24/7 to maintain control, which meant he was the one who had to adapt to their nature—including their needs for eating and sleeping.

”Food wonʼt be a problem; they can feast on the monsters I kill every day. But this sleeping requirement is a problem indeed. I canʼt have half my army falling out of the sky mid-march.”

He decided not to push his luck. He scanned the terrain for a nearby mountain ridge—a massive spine of rocks—and signalled for a landing. He kept his ships and warriors floating in a defensive perimeter around the ridge, watching as the insects and Wyverns touched down.

The moment their claws met the solid ground, they curled into themselves and fell into a deep, heavy slumber, their breathing sounding like the low growl of a distant engine.

”The world is actually way better at night,” Hye noted, checking the external sensors. The temperature had plummeted by hundreds of degrees. It was still hot by human standards, but compared to the midday furnace, it was practically pleasant.

Despite the temporary relief, he didnʼt want to take any unnecessary risks. He remained inside his command ship, his eyes fixed on the darkness outside, while his grand fleet maintained its silent, watchful vigil over his sleeping army.

Hye stood on the bridge of his flagship, staring out into the cyan-tinged darkness of the night. Despite the relief the drop in temperature brought, he felt the itch of inactivity. To truly test his reach in this world, he tried sending out a group of Soulers and Reapers.

Fighting the Wyverns without them had proven to be a slog; he had grown accustomed to their fearsome abilities in his recent campaigns in the universe. Watching their forms stand on the outer hull of his ship without dissipating or dying from the atmospheric hazards made him inwardly heave a deep sigh of relief.

”Now Iʼm not defenceless,” he thought.

However, he knew he was limited by the biological clock of his new army. While he could move as he wanted during the night, seeing how his Wyverns and insects were currently dead to the world in a deep slumber, he knew his hands were effectively tied behind his back. He couldnʼt leave his primary force unprotected.