Ch. 286..290: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 286-290

Chapter 286: Rear Admiral Shedd

When Lyra said, "That day is coming soon," no one could have guessed how quickly it would arrive.

For three relentless years, she had been the sharpest blade on the battlefield. Wherever she went, destruction followed—a trail of shattered Stellar Devourers and defeated Empire soldiers.

Now, her military journey reached a turning point.

"Rear Admiral Lyra, for your three exceptional service medals, nine first-class commendations, and numerous second-class awards in the past year alone, we hereby promote you to the rank of Rear Admiral."

The announcement aired live, and the world watched as Lyra, her tranquil catlike eyes revealing nothing, accepted the honor with unshaken composure.

Her lips, as delicate as flower petals, remained still, and her straight, refined nose only added to her serene elegance. Her waist-length black braid, sleek and scorpion-like, paired flawlessly with the crisp lines of her white uniform.

She stood like a tender flower blooming on a cliffside, enduring icy winds with quiet strength.

As the insignia of her new rank was pinned onto her shoulders, Lyra saluted sharply. The watching crowd erupted into a roar of cheers.

"Congratulations, Rear Admiral Shedd!"

"Finally! My idol Lyra has the recognition she deserves!"

"Even the military council couldn’t mess this one up!"

For years, ordinary Alliance citizens had seen the injustice. Her accomplishments had demanded this promotion long ago, but bureaucratic red tape had held her back for a year.

Frederick had once been the Alliance’s greatest war hero, but now, in the public eye, no one rivaled Lyra.

On the battlefield, her name alone shattered enemy morale. Empire soldiers, from high-ranking admirals to foot soldiers, fled at the mere sight of her.

As the Alliance celebrated, the Military Council gathered to deliberate on her latest request.

"She’s petitioned to form an independent unit. Thoughts?" Frederick tossed the application onto the meeting table.

By regulation, granting autonomy to a commanding officer required a majority vote from the council.

"I’m in favor," Admiral Raphel said without hesitation. Dessel added his agreement immediately after.

Valeria leaned forward. "Critical times like now call for heroes. This young woman is unstoppable. I vote yes."

With three of five Admirals on board, only Dale and Conners remained.

Dale grumbled, "Fine, I’ll approve."

Valeria smirked. "What’s this? Has she saving your ass twice softened you up?"

Dale’s face turned crimson. "I was being cautious before! Thought she might flip to the Empire. Now? They’d never take her, even if she wanted to join."

Lyra’s reputation had grown so fearsome that even Empire children were hushed with her name. For families mourning the war’s losses, she was the nightmare haunting their stories.

All eyes landed on Conners. The round, jovial Admiral exhaled deeply, a faint smile touching his lips.

"At this point, why hold her back? Between the Empire’s advance and the rising threat of the Evernight Gang, we need someone like her to lead."

Though his words were measured, their sincerity was uncertain. Still, they hung heavily in the room, especially for commanders like Lynn.

The Evernight Gang had plagued the stars for over two decades. Exploiting the war between the Alliance and the Empire, these pirates had grown into a sprawling network—arming the Empire, spreading terror, and seizing control of entire star systems.

No longer mere criminals, they were now a rogue state in their own right.

The vote was unanimous.

"With that settled, we need to determine her garrison location."

Newly promoted Rear Admirals were typically stationed near senior commanders or tasked with guarding space stations—a routine, low-risk role befitting their presumed inexperience. But handling Lyra this way felt absurd, almost wasteful, given her unmatched record on the battlefield.

"For someone like Lyra, the border regions would make the most sense," Raphel suggested. As a staunch supporter of combat-ready officers, he added, "Honestly, we could even build a base just for her."

"Agreed. It’d be a shame to sideline her talent," Valeria concurred.

The council debated potential postings, but none seemed worthy of her skillset. Finally, Norman broke the impasse.

"Why not assign her to Voidstar No. 1?"

The room went silent. Faces darkened, and the tension grew thick.

"Voidstar No. 1?" Dale spat, incredulous. "Are you insane? Even we can’t secure that hellhole!"

Voidstar No. 1 was infamous—a lawless, desolate garbage planet. Once dismissed as worthless due to its lack of resources and uninhabitable surface, it had evolved into the galaxy’s largest pirate haven.

Its remote location allowed criminals to operate undisturbed for years. By the time the Alliance realized the threat, the planet had become a fortress for outlaws.

Repeated military campaigns to retake Voidstar No. 1 ended in failure. The pirates, led by three powerful factions commanded by level-nine Peculiars, used hit-and-run tactics to thwart the Alliance.

After years of effort and heavy losses, the Alliance abandoned the planet entirely, viewing it as more trouble than it was worth.

Norman’s suggestion seemed deliberately cruel.

But he pressed on, his voice measured. "Lyra is the strongest officer we have under Supreme Peculiar rank. Those level-nine Peculiars are dangerous, but for her? Manageable. With someone of her caliber stationed there, we wouldn’t expect a total clean-up, but holding a garrison should be achievable."

He leaned forward, driving his point home. "In these times of war, leaving Voidstar No. 1 unguarded is a liability. Snowfall is within striking distance, and without a garrison, the pirates could cripple us there."

The room sat in uneasy silence. As much as the council despised the idea, Norman’s reasoning was undeniable. While Voidstar No. 1 was a death trap for most officers, Lyra could turn the tide.

Frederick, unwilling to force the assignment without her input, summoned Lyra to hear her thoughts.

Without hesitation, she accepted. "It suits me perfectly."

Her tone was genuine. Voidstar No. 1 offered exactly what she wanted: freedom to act without interference, far from bureaucratic oversight.

Frederick tapped the table thoughtfully. "If you successfully establish a garrison and hold it for three years, you’ll qualify for promotion to Vice Admiral."

No objections followed. Reclaiming such a strategically critical planet would easily justify the rank.

"Understood." Lyra saluted, accepted her orders, and left the room.

Outside the base, Thierry waited in his sleek Lev, the soft hum of its engine breaking the stillness.

"They’re waiting for us for too long. Let’s go," he said as Lyra slid into the passenger seat.

The years had been relentless—one battle after another—leaving little time for friendships or reflection. But the commendation ceremony brought a rare opportunity: a reunion with her peers from NMA.

Lyra, despite being the group’s fastest-rising star, seemed the least changed.

By the time she arrived, the others were already gathered, drinks in hand.

"My goddess Lyra, as cold and beautiful as ever!" Helion teased with a flourish, his playful charm still intact despite the years.

The group laughed and bantered, their camaraderie warm but tinged with the weight of experience.

The war had shaped them all, making them sharper, more restrained. Everyone except Zinnia—her bold, unfiltered energy remained as fierce as ever.

Chapter 287: Godmother

"Come on, everyone, drink up!" Zinnia hollered, bounding toward Lyra with a bottle in hand.

She threw her arms around her in a bear hug, rocking Lyra back and forth. "My love, I heard you’ve made a full recovery. No excuses this time—you’re having a drink! Am I right, everyone?"

"That’s right! Rear Admiral Shedd, our pride and joy!" someone chimed in, earning cheers from the group.

Lyra frowned slightly at the uproar, her composed demeanor unshaken.

Zinnia, as usual, paid her reaction no mind and instead grinned wider.

Mandy, typically the voice of reason, unexpectedly backed Zinnia this time. "Lyra, let them celebrate with you," she said gently.

With a faint sigh, Lyra relented. "Fine. Just one glass."

Zinnia’s eyes sparkled as she quickly poured a small cup of fruit wine. "This one’s sweet and barely alcoholic," she promised with a wink.

Despite her usual loud antics, Zinnia knew Lyra’s limits well. She nudged the glass toward her with the care of an old friend, and Lyra accepted it without a word.

Nearby, Mandy noticed someone lingering at the edge of the group. She turned and saw Vivian standing there, arms crossed, her expression reserved.

"Vivian, you made it," Mandy said, nodding in greeting.

Unlike the rest, most of whom were dressed in military uniforms, Vivian wore a sleek civilian outfit. She smiled faintly and shrugged. "It’s been ages. I thought I’d drop in."

Vivian had taken a different path after graduation, pursuing a career in logistics instead of enlisting. Her voice carried a casual air. "Risking my neck on the front lines? No thanks. Logistics pays better, and I get to stay alive."

The old rivalries and grudges among the group had long since faded, dulled by time and the harsh realities of war.

Mandy chuckled lightly. "Smart choice. Honestly, I can’t picture you in a blood-soaked uniform anyway. You’d probably cry before the first skirmish."

Vivian’s lips parted as if to retort, but Mandy had already turned away to rejoin Lyra. Whatever she intended to say remained unspoken.

Lyra, unaccustomed to drinking, found even the mild fruit wine warming her cheeks with a rosy glow. Her usually composed features softened, the change subtle yet striking.

Around the room, more than a few admiring gazes lingered on her.

Helion, lounging with a glass in hand, watched with an amused smirk. His arm rested casually over the back of his chair as he nudged his teammate, Vikie.

"See that?" he said with a sly grin.

"See what?" Vikie replied dryly, not even looking up from her drink.

"It’s not just a crush anymore," Helion said, chuckling as he finished his glass. "Guess I’ve been in denial all these years."

Setting his drink down with a firm clink, he stood and walked confidently toward Lyra.

"I hear you’ve been approved to form your own corps," he said, his tone light but direct.

Lyra met his gaze without hesitation. "The papers just came through," she replied calmly.

Helion leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "Any chance you’d take me?"

The room stilled. Conversations died mid-sentence as heads turned toward him, the air suddenly heavy with surprise.

Even Vikie, who had known him the longest, looked stunned.

By saying that, Helion meant he was proposing to leave the Rose, where he’d earned the rank of Lieutenant Commander, to join a fledgling corps with no name, no history, and no guarantees.

Lyra didn’t flinch. "Of course," she said simply, her voice steady. "But I’ll warn you now: my garrison will be Voidstar No. 1."

A ripple of shock coursed through the group.

"Voidstar No. 1?" Helion repeated, his grin faltering for the first time.

Lyra nodded, her calm expression faintly tinged with the flush of ambition. "Anyone with the courage to join me is welcome."

Mandy stifled a laugh behind her hand. She had suspected Lyra’s decision to attend this reunion wasn’t purely nostalgic.

Helion narrowed his eyes, studying her face. "You’re serious?"

"Don’t you think Voidstar No. 1 suits me?" Lyra asked, a faint but unmistakable smile curling her lips.

"That planet is crawling with pirates," Helion said, testing her resolve.

Lyra’s smirk sharpened, brimming with confidence. "They’re not a threat to me."

For the first time, the group truly saw her not as their old friend, but as the Rear Admiral who dismantled enemy fleets and hunted down Stellar Devourers as if it were sport.

Helion burst into laughter, slamming his hand on the table. "This corps of yours—it’s perfect for me!"

Years of rigid discipline under the Rose Legion had left him restless. Now, the danger and freedom Lyra offered stirred something he hadn’t felt in a long time: excitement.

"I’m joining too!" Vikie suddenly declared.

The announcement drew mixed reactions. Some of the group chuckled at the boldness, while others fell into quiet contemplation.

For a brief moment, the room fell uncomfortably silent.

Zinnia, ever the life of the party, broke the tension with her signature laugh.

"Well, then! Congratulations to Rear Admiral Shedd!" She raised her glass in a mock toast. "Now, come on, drink up! Waiter, bring the food!" she hollered toward the door.

The lively celebration continued, shifting from the hotel dining area to a private entertainment room.

The gathering stretched late into the night, laughter and camaraderie filling the air.

By the end of the evening, Zinnia was leaning heavily against Lyra, her speech slurred but her enthusiasm undiminished.

"Lyra," she began, a hiccup interrupting her words, "I’ve got the best idea! Let my darling baby girl be your goddaughter. She’s so adorable—seriously, the cutest kid ever!"

Before Lyra could respond, a crisp, high-pitched voice cut through the din.

"Mommy!"

All heads turned toward the sound. A tiny person stomped determinedly toward them, her steps quick and purposeful.

The child, round-cheeked and fiery-eyed, glared at Zinnia with puffed indignation. Her gaze mirrored her mother’s expressive eyes, but her delicate features bore a striking resemblance to her father. She seemed to have inherited the best of both parents.

"You’re drinking again!" the little girl scolded, tugging at Zinnia’s arm. "Wait till Daddy hears about this—I’m not helping you this time!"

Before anyone could react, her wide-eyed gaze landed on Lyra. She froze, then, abandoning her scolding mission entirely, ran over to hug Lyra’s leg.

"Lyra Godmom! It’s me, Tammy!"

Moments later, Rajan strolled up, sighing as he helped Zinnia steady herself.

"She’s always showing Tammy your videos," he explained with mild exasperation. "Says, ’That’s your godmother, the coolest in the galaxy.’ She’s been planning this since our wedding."

Tammy clung tightly to Lyra, her tiny frame barely reaching Lyra’s knee. Her round cheeks and sparkling eyes radiated pure excitement. In one small hand, she clutched a warm milk bottle.

"Hello," Lyra greeted simply, lowering her gaze to meet Tammy’s awe-filled expression.

Tammy’s eyes widened further as Lyra pulled a small crystal from her Space Button. With a flick of psychokinesis, the crystal transformed into a delicate bracelet, which Lyra gently placed on Tammy’s wrist.

"A gift for our first meeting," Lyra said.

"Thank you!" Tammy squealed, her voice a delighted chirp.

The child’s unrestrained joy stirred something unfamiliar in Lyra. Almost unconsciously, she reached into her Space Button again and produced a small spherical robot.

"Assistant No. 2. A toy," she said, offering it to Tammy.

"Wow! It’s so adorable!" Tammy exclaimed, clutching the robot tightly to her chest. Her cheeks squished adorably against its smooth surface. "Godmom, you’re amazing!"

Before Lyra could reach for more gifts, Rajan gently pried Tammy away. "Sweetheart," he said to the child, "let’s not bankrupt your godmom on her first day."

Zinnia laughed, nudging Tammy back toward Lyra. "Here, Lyra—hold her. She’s warm and cuddly, perfect for winter."

Tammy stretched her little arms toward Lyra, but Lyra shook her head. "I’m feeling a bit dizzy. Maybe next time."

Zinnia studied her friend for a moment, then smiled knowingly. She didn’t push further. Instead, she pinched Tammy’s cheeks fondly.

Lyra’s gaze softened, though she said nothing.

Zinnia’s unwavering faith in her had always been a quiet anchor.

Eventually, the gathering dispersed, classmates bidding farewell as they disappeared into the night.

Outside, Thierry sat slumped on the curb, his flushed face somber. His usual vibrant energy was replaced with a quiet melancholy.

"Sorry, I can’t drive you tonight," he muttered without looking up.

The reason for his mood soon became clear. Word had spread through their circle: Claude, their friend from their academy days, had been killed in action two weeks ago. His patrol unit had been ambushed by Empire spies.

Chapter 288: Legion of Everglow

Lyra remembered Claude—the red-haired young man with a cheerful smile who had once been Thierry’s roommate.

The news hit her lightly, clearing her mind for a bit. "My condolences," she said softly.

Thierry’s voice was raw, his words choked with emotion. "The day before he died, we promised to drink until we dropped today."

Instead, he drank alone—enough for both of them.

The young man who delivered the news patted Thierry’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Cheer up, Thierry. Claude saved an entire floor of pregnant women and newborns at the hospital. He died a hero."

Thierry tried to respond, to smile even, but his face froze. Then, as if the weight of the words became too much, he covered his face and broke down. "...Yeah."

The day after their class reunion, everyone gathered for Claude’s memorial service. His heroism was featured on the news, and white candles flickered in his honor throughout the community.

A photograph of him, smiling brightly, stood among a bed of white lilies.

Led by Thierry, their group of classmates offered condolences to Claude’s mother. Though her cheeks were streaked with tears, she carried herself with remarkable composure.

"Thank you all," she said, her voice steady despite the grief. "My son was a hero. He saved children—our future, our hope. I know he’s smiling brilliantly in heaven now."

Lyra, a single white chrysanthemum pinned to her chest, stood quietly against the wall. The heavy, somber mood surrounded her, but her heartbeat remained as steady as ever.

"Lyra." Zinnia’s voice was hoarse, her eyes red and puffy. She crouched beside her. "I feel like we’re just bricks."

"Bricks?" Lyra turned to her, puzzled.

"Bricks in the wall of the Alliance," Zinnia murmured. "If the wall falls, we’re smashed to pieces. But I don’t regret it." She gazed at Claude’s photo, her expression heavy with meaning. "One day, I’ll probably end up like that too. Tammy never cried much as a baby. Even when she was born, the nurse had to spank her to make her wail. But when that day comes, I bet she’ll cry her heart out."

"But, I’d rather have my daughter cry in grief if she could live to see the future of the Alliance," Zinnia added softly.

Lyra’s eyes lingered on Claude’s photograph. "Is that so," she replied, her voice steady as she straightened her posture. "But I won’t let myself end up like that."

Once someone was gone, they could no longer make a difference.

After bidding farewell to Claude’s family, they stepped outside. The sunlight streaming through the protective Aegis Shield felt warm against their skin—a stark, bittersweet reminder that life continued, even without him.

The sight of their classmates, united in grief, brought a flood of memories—friends lost in battles past. Overwhelmed, tears fell freely from everyone.

Everyone except Lyra.

A sleek Lev pulled up, its tinted window rolling down to reveal a young man with jet-black hair.

"I’m here to pick you up," Phelixes said simply.

Lyra nodded, glancing back briefly at her friends. "See you."

No one voiced the unspoken fear that the next reunion might have even fewer attendees.

"Lyra’s always so composed," someone murmured as the Lev disappeared into the distance.

"She didn’t even show any emotion during the funeral."

Zinnia watched the vehicle until it vanished from sight. "She’s not heartless," she said quietly. "She’s just more clear-headed than the rest of us."

*****

For the next week, Lyra focused entirely on organizing her legion.

She started with the paperwork—submitting the name, specifications, and detailed plans. Once everything was approved, the Legion of Everglow officially posted its recruitment notice on the military’s website.

As a **Rear Admiral**, Lyra held the authority to command up to 100,000 soldiers, supported by three adjutants and a full administrative team of clerks and secretaries.

Thierry, who had originally joined her to keep tabs on Orson, opted to stay with the Legion Glory as he prepared to take over its leadership.

Orson had already gone his own way, boldly declaring independence and forming his own legion.

With one adjutant position vacant, Lyra extended the offer to Helion. Aurelius retained his role as her second adjutant, while the third position went to an external recruit.

Mandy, despite lacking combat skills, became Lyra’s secretary. Her organizational expertise and sharp mind were exactly what Lyra needed to keep things running smoothly.

The establishment of Lyra’s Legion of Everglow sparked a frenzy across the Alliance, rivalling even the ongoing war in terms of public attention.

"Rear Admiral Shedd has finally posted her recruitment notice!"

"I’ve been waiting for this! I have to join her legion!"

"What’s it called?"

Fans flooded the military website, eager to learn more. A quick search revealed the answer: Legion of Everglow. Excitement rippled through the crowd—until they read the recruitment requirements:

Superpower Level 3 or above

Age under 50

Psychokinesis above 3000 units

Mecha piloting experience required

Interested candidates must report to Training Ground 3 Military Base of Central City, Elden Prime, on September 13, Stardate 3039.

The stringent standards instantly disqualified the vast majority of applicants. For many, it wasn’t even close. Some had the necessary superpower level but were too old. Others met the age requirement but lacked the psychokinetic strength. The mecha experience prerequisite alone eliminated countless hopefuls.

"What is this? Even Legion Glory doesn’t have standards this high!"

"Maybe she’s forming a training program, not a fighting force."

"Or maybe her time with the Special Forces has warped her expectations."

Critics were quick to point out that only 30% of the Alliance’s population had awakened superpowers, and over half of those never progressed beyond Level 2.

Among the remaining 15%, many powers weren’t even combat-oriented.

Online forums lit up with heated debates, with some accusing Lyra of being detached from reality.

Inside the Recruitment Office...

While the controversy brewed online, Lyra’s adjutants, Helion and Vikie, had just arrived at the office after resigning from their previous posts.

As they worked with Lyra to sift through applications, Helion scrolled through the online chatter, chuckling to himself.

"People are practically lining up to sign their death warrants these days."

Vikie shook her head. "They have no idea. Our station is Voidstar No. 1. Without the right skills, they wouldn’t last a day. But since that’s classified, of course they’re confused."

"They’ll learn soon enough," Phelixes chimed in, a faint smile on his lips as he skimmed the discussions on his own device.

Helion glanced at him, his grin sharp. "Always the diplomat, aren’t you?"

Phelixes smile remained calm, his radiant features impossible to ignore—dark eyes, pale skin, and rosy lips, all combining into a strikingly ethereal presence.

Vikie and Mandy found themselves stealing glances, unable to look away.

Helion frowned in thought. The once-clingy kid who used to trail after Lyra like a shadow had transformed into a disarmingly confident man over the years.

*****

Despite the uproar, Lyra refused to lower her standards. The military headquarters granted her legion a dedicated zone, and when the recruitment day arrived, the turnout was noticeably smaller than the massive crowds drawn by other legions.

Most other legions accepted Level 1 superpower users, an age limit of 70, and a psychokinesis minimum of 1500 units—making Lyra’s requirements seem almost impossible in comparison.

Still, those who did show up were a different breed. Their confidence and talent radiated as they stood ready, tall and self-assured.

That confidence wavered when Lyra appeared with her adjutants and clerks. The sharp, commanding vibe of the group swept over the crowd like a cold wind, leaving many uneasy.

Lyra’s steely gaze alone was enough to make even the most confident straighten their postures.

She took her seat at the front of the line, her voice cool and composed as she addressed Mandy. "Let’s begin."

Mandy stepped forward and announced, "Approach one by one."

The crowd buzzed with curiosity. No résumés, no prior applications—how would candidates be evaluated?

One by one, the applicants stepped forward. Lyra assessed each briefly, then pointed them to the left or right without a word. No explanations were given.

By the end of the morning, only about 10% of the applicants stood on the right side.

Mandy delivered the results with her usual calm. "Those on the right, you’ve passed. Those on the left, you’re dismissed."

The rejected group erupted with frustration, their protests growing louder by the second.

Chapter 289: High Psychokinesis

The tension in the training ground reached a boiling point as rejected applicants voiced their frustrations.

"This is outrageous! Not even looking at résumés is one thing, but you don’t even ask us a single question before deciding who stays and who goes!"

"Exactly! We meet the requirements. At least give us an explanation!"

Meanwhile, those on the right side—the ones who had passed—stood smugly, their confidence evident in their expressions.

Lyra remained unfazed, her gaze sharp as she singled out a young man from the right side.

The man hesitated but quickly stepped forward. Awkwardly, he saluted her. "Ma’am."

Lyra’s voice was calm but commanding as she rattled off his data:

"He possesses a level-3 superpower to control flames. Superpower rating: 3,560. Psychokinesis: 3,209 units. Age: 49."

The young man’s jaw dropped.

She had read his exact stats with complete accuracy—numbers identical to those he had received during his test just the day before.

Lyra then added, "And he is the weakest among those who passed. Some of the others have level-5 abilities."

This revelation caused the successful applicants to straighten their backs, their pride shining through.

Lyra turned to face the protestors, her cold eyes scanning them. "Would you like me to recite your stats as well?"

The group fell silent. Her expression made one thing abundantly clear: she knew their numbers. Her decisions weren’t arbitrary.

Their protests died away, replaced by quiet resignation.

By the time the morning session ended, the Legion of Everglow’s unique recruitment method had become the hottest topic online.

"Unbelievable! How did Rear Admiral Shedd figure out everyone’s stats? It’s not like she could have investigated every single person, right?"

"Maybe there’s hidden testing equipment somewhere?"

"You’re naive. Do you even know how high her psychokinesis is?"

A verified insider from the Superpower Administration joined the discussion, leaking some shocking information:

"Three years ago, when Rear Admiral Shedd was promoted to level 9, her psychokinesis was tested. It holds the highest recorded value for any known Peculiar to date."

"So psychokinesis that high just lets you do whatever you want?" someone joked.

The Legion of Everglow’s official response only added fuel to the fire:

"In light of recent discussions regarding our recruitment process, the Legion of Everglow affirms that all recruitment methods are directly overseen and decided by Rear Admiral Shedd. There are no discrepancies."

There was no mention of potential testing errors or margin for bias. The statement’s unwavering confidence left no room for doubt.

Curious skeptics who had been rejected secretly ran their stats on different machines. The results? Deviations never exceeded ten units.

Over the next three days, the first round of recruitment concluded. The successful candidates began submitting their personal information online.

The process moved to the next stage: the background check. Anyone with inconsistencies in their records was disqualified.

Finally, the recruits underwent physical examinations. Those with severe health issues were also cut.

After three rigorous screening phases, the Legion of Everglow, which could theoretically command up to 100,000 soldiers, ended up with just over 20,000 new recruits.

These recruits represented a mix of civilian and military academy applicants.

Beyond that, a wave of personnel from other legions had chosen to transfer, seeking a fresh start under Lyra’s command.

Among those transferring were several familiar faces, including Elsie and Kolan, who had worked with Lyra back in school.

"I’ve thought about this for a long time," Elsie said, her tone decisive and sharp as always. "The Legion of Everglow feels like the right place for young people like us."

Her trust in Lyra stemmed from one simple belief: there would be no unspoken rules or unnecessary bureaucracy in the legion. It would be a place where merit mattered, not politics.

Elsie’s decision to join was also deeply personal. Rumors had circulated about her troubles in her previous legion—specifically, being harassed by a superior officer who made her life miserable after failing to coerce her into submission.

For a long time, she had no way out. It was Lyra who used her influence and pulled a few strings to secure Elsie’s transfer.

"I owe her one," Elsie admitted quietly. Her loyalty to Lyra ran deep, forged through mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose.

Lyra had expected the usual mix of recruits—some familiar, some not—but Robin’s arrival was a curveball she hadn’t seen coming.

When Robin walked into the office to finalize his onboarding, it didn’t take long for tension to surface.

Aurelius wasted no time, his disdain evident. "Oh, I thought you’d have a shining career in Legion Glory," he said with a biting edge. "Guess it’s just a cold bench after all."

Robin, once a spy for Frederick and a key player in the betrayal of the Calvin family, had seen his ambitions collapse before they even began. The fallout had left him adrift, his career in Legion Glory stagnant.

Yet, Robin appeared unbothered. "Eagles choose the best trees to nest in. Legion Glory wasn’t the right place. I simply moved on."

Grains, standing behind Robin, looked mildly irritated but chose to stay silent. He had become more tactful over the years, no longer the sharp-tongued troublemaker of their school days.

Caleb chimed in, his tone calm but resolute. "When we saw the recruitment standards for the Legion of Everglow, we knew this was the right fit."

The legion’s strict age limit and emphasis on high psychokinesis attracted only the best—a chance for young, driven individuals to rise unimpeded by outdated hierarchies.

For Robin, who carried the stigma of being an experimental subject, the rigid environment of a traditional legion had always been suffocating. Here, he hoped for something different.

Aurelius’ smile turned sharper. "Move on? Or are you here to run the same games as before? Another spy for Frederick, perhaps?"

Before Robin could reply, Lyra’s voice cut through the tension. "Aurelius."

Her tone was calm but carried an unmistakable warning. "They’ve signed their contracts. They’re part of the Legion of Everglow now."

The message was clear: no internal strife would be tolerated.

Aurelius nodded stiffly, realizing his misstep. "Understood."

The office now held a mix of familiar and trusted faces:

- Mandy, Lyra’s ever-reliable secretary.

- Helion, Aurelius, and Phelixes as her adjustants.

- Robin’s group, including Grains and Caleb.

- Old friends like Elsie, Vikie, and Kolan.

Lyra’s gaze swept over them, and for a moment, her typically stoic expression softened into a faint smile.

"Let’s meet the recruits," she said simply.

The Legion of Everglow’s base hummed with activity as over 20,000 recruits assembled. They came from diverse backgrounds—former civilians, beast hunters, doctors—but now, they were all equals, united under one banner.

Robin and his group blended into the crowd, not seeking any special recognition.

When Lyra entered the training grounds, the lively chatter evaporated.

Thousands of eyes turned toward her, their gazes filled with anticipation and curiosity.

"Welcome to the Legion of Everglow," Lyra began, her voice steady and direct. "You have six months before deployment to our station. During this time, you will train under designated instructors. At the end of this period, there will be an evaluation. Based on your performance, you will be assigned to regiments and barracks."

She paused, letting her words sink in.

"All other positions will be determined by merit. Those who rank lowest will be reassigned to non-combat roles."

The recruits exchanged glances, whispers rippling through the crowd.

From the front, Robin raised his voice. "Can the position of adjustant be contested as well?"

Lyra’s gaze flicked to her current adjustants.

Helion smirked, his confidence unshaken. "Bring it on."

Aurelius and Phelixes exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison. "Of course."

The recruits’ excitement surged, their competitive spirits ignited.

Standing just behind Lyra, Mandy allowed herself a small, knowing smile. This was pure Lyra—clear, fair, and unafraid to challenge people to be their best.

Then, from somewhere in the middle of the crowd, a bold voice called out. "Uh, can we compete for the secretary position?"

Another joined in, "Yeah! I’d love to work directly with the Rear Admiral!"

Mandy’s posture stiffened, her grip on her clipboard tightening.

Lyra didn’t miss a beat. "The secretary position is not open for competition."

Mandy exhaled, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

The Legion of Everglow had officially begun its journey, but questions still lingered.

"I have a question," Helion said, raising his hand with a mock-serious expression. "Who’s leading the training sessions?"

Before Lyra could respond, a gruff voice cut through the crowd like a whip.

"You brat, I’m standing right here."

Helion turned, and for the first time, his trademark smirk faltered.

"...You’ve got to be kidding me."

 

Chapter 290: The Superpower That Nullifies Superpowers

As the man holding Helion in a headlock stepped into the light, confusion rippled through the crowd. But for Elsie and her team, that confusion quickly froze into unshakable fear.

"Coach Anton?"

Though Aurelius and his companions weren’t part of the NMA, they’d attended enough AMAT events to recognize instructors from the three academies.

"That guy’s one of your NMA instructor?"

"Didn’t he get kicked out for misconduct?"

Years ago, Anton had been dishonorably discharged after killing civilians during a mission on Wyrmtrace. His actions had drawn the military’s fury and led to his disgrace.

"So why was he here now?"

Elsie snapped out of her shock, exchanging a tense glance with Kolan. "I heard rumors Instructor Anton became a security guard somewhere. Turns out he’s working for Rear Admiral Lyra’s company."

"Yeah," Kolan muttered, still trying to process, "someone mentioned seeing him sunbathing outside the LE Energy headquarters."

That easygoing image clashed starkly with the commanding presence Anton radiated now. The superpower particles swirling around him were almost suffocating, their density altering the air itself.

The crowd could feel it, their faces twisting in collective unease.

Helion, still rubbing his neck from the headlock, grimaced. "Gosh. When did you hit level eight?"

Level eight.

The words landed like a bombshell. For most Rear Admiral-led legions, having a level-five instructor was a rare privilege. Yet here stood a level eight, a figure almost unheard of in their circles.

Anton’s faint smile offered no answers.

In the past, instructors like him were often former soldiers sidelined by injuries. Anton had been no exception, his abilities capped at level six after a severe brain injury.

But when Lyra, a Level Nine, healed him, years of accumulated power, coupled with enhancement treatments from plants, propelled him straight to level eight.

From the moment Lyra recruited him into LE Energy, she had mapped out his new role.

Officially, he was labeled a "military instructor," though his duties overlapped with security. It was a semi-retirement gig—but a demanding one.

Lyra had left him with simple instructions. "I trust you to handle this."

"Don’t worry," Anton had replied with a casual wave. "I’ll earn every cent of that generous paycheck."

When Lyra and her assistant Mandy left the training site, Helion crossed his arms, skeptical. "So, what does an instructor at your level pull in these days?"

"That’s none of your concern," Anton retorted.

Anton’s salary mirrored the military standard for level eight instructors—a hefty sum. Lyra had sweetened the deal, too, offering bonuses for recruits who scored above eighty percent after six months.

Surveying the sprawling training grounds packed with 26,000 recruits, Anton’s grin sharpened, his eyes gleaming like they’d struck gold.

"You only need to know one thing," Anton said, his tone tinged with menace. "In six months, your strength will be unrecognizable."

The veterans among the recruits, who knew Anton’s methods well, exchanged grim looks. That smile wasn’t reassuring—it was a warning.

Training under him was going to be brutal.

The days passed like a storm, each one harsher than the last, leaving an indelible mark on the recruits.

Lyra visited the training grounds sporadically, sometimes weekly, sometimes monthly.

"How many have dropped out?" she asked during one such visit.

Anton flipped through his records. "We’ve lost about 3,000 since Day One."

The reasons varied—some couldn’t endure the grueling pace, while others simply couldn’t accept being average. The Everglow had scouted some of the best talent from ordinary civilian ranks, but here, everyone started as equals.

Anton shrugged dismissively. "By the end, we’ll be lucky to keep 20,000."

"Quality over quantity," Lyra said coolly.

"Exactly," Anton agreed. "Especially with the program I’ve got them running through."

Finally, the six-month assessment day arrived.

Lyra walked onto the training field, her sharp gaze scanning the rows of soldiers.

The transformation was undeniable. Gone was the chaotic mess of fresh recruits. Now, they stood in flawless formation—silent, poised, and exuding razor-sharp discipline.

They resembled a forest of steel spears, every soldier standing straight and unwavering.

"Salute!" Anton barked, his voice echoing across the grounds.

As one, the soldiers snapped into a perfect salute, the synchronized motion cutting through the air with a crisp, commanding energy.

Even the faint rustling of uniforms seemed purposeful, reflecting their relentless training.

"Rear Admiral Shedd!" they roared in unison, their voices shaking the ground.

Lyra returned the salute, clasping her hands behind her back. Her tone was even, but a flicker of pride glinted in her eyes. "Let’s see what you’ve accomplished."

With a curt nod to Anton, she added, "Begin."

By the end of training, just over 20,000 recruits remained.

Their reasons for leaving were clear: with their abilities, they could have easily become mid-level officers in other legions. But here, in the Legion of Everglow, they were nothing more than foot soldiers.

It presented a classic dilemma: settle for comfort as a leader in mediocrity, or endure grueling excellence as part of something extraordinary.

Despite being the smallest officially registered legion in the Alliance, thanks to Lyra’s reputation, the Legion of Everglow attracted ambitious recruits.

And anyone who witnessed them firsthand could see that size wasn’t everything.

Their collective presence and average combat ability were on par with Special Forces.

Once evaluations were completed, scores were calculated down to five decimal points to ensure precision.

Even so, most scores were astonishingly close.

The top ranks, however, showed noticeable gaps. By the time the top twenty were revealed, one name stood out above the rest: Robin, with a near-perfect score that left him the clear leader.

Helion, Phelixes, Aurelius, and Elsie followed in the rankings, cementing their places at the top of the Legion.

Lyra reviewed the results before displaying a massive screen for all recruits to see. On it was the Legion of Everglow’s command structure and assignments.

Given the legion’s small size, Lyra had simplified the hierarchy: beneath the adjutants, she appointed regiment leaders, followed by battalion commanders. Each position was assigned directly based on rank.

Once the assignments were displayed, Lyra addressed the recruits. Her sharp gaze swept across the group as she spoke:

"If you disagree with your rank or position, you may challenge someone above you. Each of you will be given two chances."

The announcement ignited a surge of energy in the recruits.

"I’m first!" someone shouted almost immediately.

The crowd stirred, but it was Aurelius who stepped forward first, his eyes locking onto Robin.

Robin’s meteoric rise in the rankings had cost Aurelius a coveted adjutant position.

"I challenge Phelixes," Aurelius declared, his tone steady but intense.

Aurelius was strategic. Robin was a level eight, far out of reach. Helion, though also a level six like himself, had dual superpowers that gave him an undeniable edge.

But Phelixes? He was younger, less experienced, and his superpower remained largely unknown. To Aurelius, he seemed like the weakest of the three.

As eyes turned to Phelixes, he gave a faint smile, though there was an unmistakable chill in his expression.

"Very well," Phelixes replied calmly. "Let’s begin."

The crowd buzzed with anticipation as Aurelius and Phelixes stepped into the arena. Tension hung thick in the air.

Phelixes glanced at the sidelines, where Lyra watched intently. His fists clenched. He wasn’t just fighting for rank—he was fighting for recognition.

The match began, and Aurelius struck first.

Blue, whip-like tendrils formed from superpower particles lashed out, aiming for Phelixes’ chest.

Without hesitation, Phelixes raised his hand, and the moment the tendrils connected, the particles vanished into thin air.

The crowd gasped.

Aurelius frowned, summoning more tendrils and launching another attack. The result was the same: the tendrils dissolved the instant they came into contact with Phelixes.

"What’s with this kid’s superpower?" Helion muttered from the sidelines, his arms crossed.

"It looks like he nullifies other superpowers," Vikie replied, eyes narrowed. "But his combat skills... those are something else. They’re almost as good as Robin’s."

Robin was widely considered the Legion’s best physical fighter, second only to Lyra herself.

Yet here was Phelixes, a decade younger, displaying combat prowess that rivaled even Robin’s.

Twenty minutes later, Aurelius found himself pinned to the ground, Phelixes’ arm locking him in place.

"Enough!" Anton’s voice rang out across the training grounds. "The winner: Phelixes!"

Phelixes released his hold and stood, his breathing steady despite the grueling match.

Lyra, watching from her seat, rested her chin on her hand, her expression thoughtful.

Phelixes’ ability was unique, but it wasn’t just his power that impressed her—it was his adaptability and determination.

If his superpower had been lethal, Aurelius wouldn’t have lasted even half the match. Phelixes had chosen not to crush his opponent, but to outmaneuver and exhaust him.

Once the challenges were finished, Lyra addressed the legion one final time, announcing the finalized command structure.

"The three adjutants will be Robin, Helion, and Phelixes," she declared. "Regiment leaders will be Aurelius, Elsie, and Kolan..."

Her voice echoed across the grounds, solidifying the Legion’s chain of command. With this announcement, the Legion of Everglow was officially born.

The Legion’s first mission loomed. Within a month, they were set to deploy to their designated station: Voidstar No. 1, a strategic location that would test their mettle from the outset.

Lyra, however, wasn’t rushing. She summoned the three adjutants and the regiment leaders to a private meeting.

"There are a few matters we need to resolve before we leave," she said, her tone calm but commanding.

The preparations for Voidstar No. 1 would soon begin—but first, Lyra would ensure every detail was in place.