Ch. 301..305: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 301-305
Chapter 301: Is She Really Just Level Nine?
With Gino frozen and incapacitated, Lyra wasted no time shifting her focus to Broken Blade.
Transformed into a massive white bird, Broken Blade flapped her wings desperately, trying to escape.
However, her retreat was cut short as green energy arrows materialized in the air, tracking her every move with eerie precision.
The arrows wove through the sky like a hunter’s net, herding her back toward Lyra’s position.
On the ground, Lyra had already zeroed in on Markle.
Moving at lightning speed, her sword blurred as it cleaved through the metallic creatures Markle summoned—lions, tigers, and even a giant serpent. Each creation crumbled under a single strike, unable to withstand her relentless assault.
A swift kick from Lyra sent Markle hurtling into the air. Before he could stabilize, Lyra launched herself skyward, catching him mid-flight.
With a single, decisive thrust, her blade pierced through him, driving him back to the ground with devastating force.
Above, Broken Blade seized the opportunity to flee, but Lyra reacted instantly.
With a smooth motion, she hurled her sword into the sky. The blade split mid-air into two gleaming daggers, which struck the roots of Broken Blade’s wings.
Crying out, the white bird plummeted earthward, shifting back into her human form as she hit the ground.
The daggers morphed again, transforming into metallic rings that clamped tightly around Broken Blade’s limbs, binding her in place.
Lyra summoned Schedar with her psychokinesis, dragging Broken Blade across the ground with a humiliating scrape before dropping her beside Markle.
The two pirate leaders lay defeated, stripped of their strength and dignity.
Lyra’s attention returned to where Gino had been frozen. Approaching the site, her expression darkened—where the icy statue once stood, there was now only a glistening puddle of alcohol.
"He escaped?" she muttered, her tone sharp.
Her night-dark eyes flared with an ominous glint. Without hesitation, she handed command over to Mandy.
"Take over from here," Lyra ordered briskly.
Re-forming Schedar into a sleek floating board, she leapt onto it and shot off, her speed surpassing the sound barrier as she pursued Gino with pinpoint accuracy.
Grains, shading his eyes against the distant shockwaves of Lyra’s departure, let out a low whistle of admiration.
"Wow! She is something else. Took down the entire base by herself!" He grinned slyly and added, "Is she really just level nine?"
Mandy, busy directing her team to secure the remaining pirates, shot him a sharp glance.
"Less talk, more work," she said curtly. "We still need to regroup with Aurelius and the others."
While Mandy managed the aftermath, Lyra’s allies launched coordinated strikes on other pirate strongholds.
Robin and his unit attacked the bases of Broken Blade and Markle, leaving no safe haven for the remnants of their forces.
Situated at the intersection of the three pirate territories, the orphanage had long maintained a fragile peace.
Father Kyle, a man of considerable power, paid steep tributes to the pirate gangs, ensuring the sanctuary remained untouched.
It was a place of quiet safety amidst the chaos, where the laughter of children replaced the clash of weapons.
That peace, however, was about to end.
In the kitchen, Gultong set down steaming dishes and called the children to dinner. Their laughter filled the dining room as they rushed in, excitedly praising the food.
"Anna’s cooking is amazing!"
"Way better than Father Kyle’s! A hundred times better—no, a thousand!"
"Remember when Father Kyle cooked that wild ox? It was so tough Peter lost all his baby teeth chewing it!"
Even Father Kyle, entering behind them, chuckled at their antics.
"You little rascals! If you keep that up, no more cooking for you!" he joked, prompting even louder giggles.
The mood was warm, almost idyllic, as the villagers—refugees now under the orphanage’s protection—shared in the rare moment of peace. Gultong couldn’t help smiling.
"If this could last forever..." he murmured softly.
But as the clinking of utensils filled the room, Father Kyle’s smile abruptly froze. Rising to his feet, his face turned pale with dread.
"Run! Now!" he shouted, his voice urgent and commanding.
The sheer panic in his tone jolted everyone into motion. Without hesitation, they scrambled toward the back exit, instincts born of years of survival driving their flight.
Gultong paused, his senses catching an overwhelming surge of superpower radiating from Father Kyle. The energy was immense, almost suffocating, but before he could process it, another presence loomed closer—a force far more menacing.
If Kyle’s power was a tranquil lake, the approaching presence was a raging tsunami.
"They’re here!"
A voice, dripping with venom and rage, echoed through the courtyard.
A puddle of liquid splashed onto the ground, rippling unnaturally before reforming into a man’s figure.
Gino had arrived.
Father Kyle hurled a prepared thunderball, but the transformed Gino casually raised a shimmering barrier of alcohol.
The crackling energy fizzled harmlessly against the liquid shield, dissipating into harmless sparks.
Kyle frowned, then surged forward in a blur of motion, his strikes fierce and unrelenting. Each blow created gusts of wind, the sheer force of his combat style leaving Gultong, watching from the sidelines, utterly stunned.
In terms of physical combat, Kyle clearly outmatched Gino. However, Gino’s superpower made him an overwhelming opponent. As he sidestepped Kyle’s onslaught, he sneered.
"You’re definitely ex-military," Gino remarked mockingly.
"That was a long time ago," Father Kyle replied grimly.
Dropping to one knee, he pressed his palms to the ground.
Overhead, the thunderclouds he had summoned released a cascade of lightning, aimed to annihilate Gino. The bolts struck with deafening force, splitting the air with blinding light.
But Gino raised his hands, and another alcohol barrier materialized, absorbing the brunt of the attack.
The thick, intoxicating aroma of liquor filled the air, and Kyle’s movements began to slow. His breathing grew labored, and a deep flush crept across his face.
"You reek of weakness," Gino jeered, stepping forward confidently.
Kyle staggered, struggling to focus. Meanwhile, Gino pushed past him, his sights set on the house. Hostages—children or adults, it didn’t matter. They would be his leverage against Lyra, a tool for vengeance.
"Father Kyle!"
The panicked cries of the children snapped Kyle back to his senses. He bit his tongue hard, the sharp pain clearing his mind.
With a final burst of strength, he cast a net of lightning to shield the house.
Gino stopped, momentarily irritated by the barrier. His gaze darkened as he snarled, "You’re dead."
Alcohol vapors in the air ignited, erupting into a massive explosion. When the storm of fire and lightning subsided, Kyle lay motionless on the charred ground, his body scorched and lifeless.
Unbothered, Gino strode into the dining room, oblivious to the faint twitch of Kyle’s fingers as he weakly clawed at the scorched soil.
Inside, Gultong stood trembling but resolute, shielding the children and villagers.
"Stay back!" he shouted, launching a fireball at Gino.
The flame dissipated before it even reached him. Gino’s smirk widened as he advanced, the children’s terrified cries filling the air.
Outside, Kyle’s hand fell limp again, his eyes unfocused. A small teddy bear rolled across the playground, nudging against his fingers. His lips moved faintly, forming unspoken words.
"I’ve failed... again."
Just then, a beam of sunlight pierced through the dissipating clouds, illuminating the broken scene.
The golden light seemed to intensify, tinged with green, as tiny motes descended like stars.
And then, someone appeared—a striking silhouette in a red dress.
Lyra had arrived.
Gino had just grabbed one of the children when Lyra’s hand closed around his face.
Her arrival was a blur of motion, faster than anyone could process. She slammed him through the wall and into the ground outside, creating a massive crater on impact.
Gino’s body bounced violently, his limbs twisting unnaturally as the sound of breaking bones echoed.
Panicking, he tried to liquefy his body, turning translucent in an attempt to escape. But as he began to melt into the ground, excruciating pain wracked his form, forcing him back into his human shape.
"What... what did you do to me?" he screamed, writhing in agony.
Lyra was emotionless, her cold eyes reflecting a chilling finality. A faint green glow danced around her fingertips, spreading through Gino’s body.
His form grotesquely swelled and shrank, distorting into a horrifying, malformed creature.
Gino’s white lab coat was smeared with dirt and blood as he crumpled to his knees. Trembling, he crawled toward Lyra’s feet, clutching at her legs with desperation.
"I surrender! Please, Rear Admiral Shedd! Spare me!" he begged, his voice breaking.
Villagers and children stared in stunned silence, the terrifying sight of Gino reduced to a groveling mess seared into their memories.
Lyra remained unmoved, her icy demeanor unbroken.
This moment would later become legendary, immortalized in an oil painting displayed across Voidstar No. 1 and within the Alliance—a defining image of Lyra’s unparalleled dominance.
The green motes of light drifted to Kyle, gradually knitting his wounds. When he finally rose, his gaze swept over the scene.
Lyra was gone, dragging Gino like discarded trash. She hadn’t spared him a single glance.
"Father Kyle! Who was that amazing hero? She was incredible!" a little girl exclaimed, wiping his soot-streaked face with a handkerchief. "I wish I had a big sister like her!"
Kyle’s lips trembled, forming a faint, bitter smile.
"I once had a sister, just like her," he murmured softly. "But because I failed her again and again... we became strangers."
The little girl tilted her head, pressing the damp cloth to his cheek.
"Father Kyle, are you in pain? Why are you crying?" she asked innocently, her wide eyes filled with concern.
Chapter 302: A New Voidstar No. 1
In just one day, the three major space pirate crews of Voidstar No. 1 were obliterated.
Their three level-nine leaders were captured, and nearly all high-ranking officers were eliminated.
Among their subordinates, squad leaders and regular members suffered devastating losses, with over half either killed or injured.
When Lyra returned with Gino in custody, the teams led by Aurelius and Robin had already regrouped.
Each team was escorting ships packed with prisoners, forming an imposing sight. Most of the pirates had been stationed at Gino’s base, but fewer than one percent of them had survived the assault.
At the center of the battlefield, near the wine cellar, the bodies of fallen pirates were piled high, forming a grotesque mountain.
Lyra descended atop it, where soldiers clad in white military uniforms stood at attention and saluted her in unison.
A swirl of green light enveloped her, cloaking her figure.
As the glow faded, her flowing dress was replaced by a sharp military uniform. Her long hair cascaded down her back, swaying gently in the breeze.
In this age of interstellar civilization, few sights could rival Lyra’s radiance at that moment—perhaps only the brilliance of a star itself.
Returning their salutes, Lyra surveyed the thousands of prisoners kneeling before her. A faint softness touched her otherwise icy demeanor.
"Well done, my warriors," she said.
A surge of pride swept through everyone present.
In a single day, they had annihilated not one but three space pirate crews that had plagued the military for decades. Their achievements, once recognized, would surely be enshrined in history.
The three captured leaders were herded together. Staring at the woman whose presence exuded imperial authority, Gino found himself unable to meet her gaze, frozen by an all-encompassing fear.
With the prisoners secured aboard the ships, the Legion of Everglow launched a thorough sweep of Voidstar No. 1. The remaining pirate factions, terrified by the sudden onslaught, fled without offering any resistance.
For the residents of Voidstar No. 1, it was a surreal day.
Space pirates fled en masse, their starships and fighter crafts streaking through the skies like migrating birds, vanishing into the vastness of space.
At first, civilians, unaware of the details, feared the onset of a massive war. Anxiety and panic gripped the populace until the satellites reconnected to the Alliance Network.
Hundreds of drones patrolled the skies of Voidstar No. 1, broadcasting a uniform announcement around the clock:
"As of today, Voidstar No. 1 is officially under Alliance jurisdiction. All residents are required to relocate to the newly established settlement and register their identities. The settlement is located at latitude 39°N, longitude 29°W. For those without transportation or maps, please request assistance from the drones."
Equipped with advanced recognition systems, the drones descended automatically upon spotting humans, offering maps and access to aid applications.
As they patrolled, they also documented Voidstar No. 1’s terrain, integrating the data into a detailed 3D map of the region, complete with information about its wildlife, water sources, and land formations.
...
For the next month, everyone was consumed with relentless work.
Unlike the development of Wyrmtrace, which involved external stakeholders, Voidstar No. 1 was managed entirely by the Legion of Everglow.
The workload was enormous—they had to construct bases while conducting a full census of the population.
Fortunately, Lyra’s caravan had brought a fleet of specialized machinery, allowing for rapid progress.
Naturally, some criticism arose over her use of the caravan for public projects, but Lyra dismissed it without concern.
Rather than leave room for external contractors to cut corners in secret, she preferred to manage the work herself—and keep the profits outright.
The second task, the population census, was less challenging due to Voidstar No. 1’s sparse population. Many residents could trace their ancestry back six or seven generations to a common forebear.
For instance, in Gultong’s village, considered a mid-sized settlement, there were only about 130 people.
Across the entire region, the total population barely exceeded 100,000. Even the temporary shelters prepared by the Alliance remained largely unfilled.
By the end of the month, Voidstar No. 1’s integration into the Alliance was well underway, heralding a new era for its inhabitants.
Lyra issued an announcement that instantly sparked excitement across Voidstar No. 1: all residents were invited to help build the new settlement. Those who contributed would earn a free apartment in the residential district as part of their reward.
The news electrified the populace. Lines formed at registration points the moment they opened, stretching far longer than anyone had anticipated.
Some people even camped overnight, laying down bedding to secure their spot, eager to start working and claim the best homes.
Beneath this surface unity and enthusiasm, however, trouble was brewing.
"Helion caught two more space pirates," Mandy reported as she entered Lyra’s office.
Although the three main pirate crews had been eliminated, many of their members had slipped away in the chaos. These fugitives were now hiding in the shadows, hoping to rescue their leaders and reclaim their former power.
Naive as their ambitions were, they didn’t grasp how much the situation had shifted.
Gino and the other two leaders had already expressed a willingness to defect. But Lyra, unmoved by their offers, had other plans.
She intended to leverage their lives to secure greater recognition for herself and the Legion.
"This can’t keep happening," Phelixes said, entering with his own report. "I caught a few more myself, but I’m certain there are still others blending in with the crowds."
"I know," Lyra replied calmly, her tone as casual as if she were discussing a light drizzle.
Her composure reassured the room, and the conversation moved on.
Development on Voidstar No. 1 surged ahead at an intense pace. Among the many construction projects, building the first school became a top priority.
Lyra wanted the children living idly in temporary shelters to have a space where they could learn and grow.
When the project reached the planning stage, Lyra gathered the administrative staff and posed a simple question:
"Who’s willing to take charge?"
Becoming the principal of Voidstar No. 1’s first school sounded prestigious, but no one seemed eager to step up.
The director of logistics scratched his head awkwardly. "Ma’am, we may be administrative personnel, but we all joined the Legion for action, not for teaching kids. That’s... not really our strength."
Even those with desk jobs in the Legion of Everglow were trained for combat. The admin team had recently taken part in the pirate eradication mission. While they could wield weapons, guiding children was an entirely different challenge.
Lyra’s gaze fell on Caleb, who adjusted his glasses before politely refusing, "Though I wear glasses, ma’am, I’m a strategist trained by the NMA Department of Command and Strategy, not an educator."
Mandy frowned. "This isn’t a great time for external recruitment, either. We can’t risk hiring a spy, a pirate, or someone working for another Legion."
Just then, Robin, who had been silent throughout the discussion, spoke up. "I have someone in mind. He’s in the shelters now. If you approve, I believe he’d be willing to take the position."
Lyra’s eyes flickered with interest as she considered the suggestion.
Phelixes’ fingers curled slightly on his lap. "This job should be handled by a professional. I’m willing to act as a temporary principal until we can recruit someone properly qualified."
The other regiment leaders exchanged glances, quickly guessing who Robin was referring to.
And Phelixes’ reaction only confirmed their suspicions.
Helion, who often clashed with Phelixes, saw an opportunity and leaned into it.
"Father Kyle... or rather, as I prefer to call him, Kail Shedd. Since leaving the military, he’s spent years here taking care of children. If anyone’s qualified, it’s him."
Phelixes glared at Helion, his eyes sharp enough to cut steel, but Helion merely smirked, relishing his rival’s discomfort.
All eyes turned to Lyra. After weighing the arguments, she gave a decisive nod. "Prepare a formal invitation for Kail to serve as the principal of the school."
Despite the personal tensions in the room, Kail’s reputation across Voidstar No. 1 was stellar.
When Kail received the invitation letter, bearing Lyra’s personal signature, his hands trembled.
"She’s forgiven me..." he murmured softly, his expression a mixture of relief and sorrow.
Phelixes, however, couldn’t resist taking a jab. "Don’t read too much into it. She’s just using you as a tool."
Nearby, Mandy wiped her brow, exasperated. Though Phelixes had grown skilled in handling major tasks, his immaturity still showed in moments like this.
Turning to Kail, she added diplomatically, "In any case, come with me to finalize your appointment. Just keep in mind, this is a government position. We can’t get you return to the military now."
"I understand," Kail said with a nod. Having worked within the system before, he was well-versed in the protocols.
Years of working with children had become second nature to him, so stepping into this new role felt like a natural progression.
Chapter 303: Calculation of Elden Prime
On their way home from school, children sang cheerfully:
"The Everglow arrives, pirates flee;
Build the base, raise the homes;
Till the land, harvest the fields!"
From her office window in the military base, Lyra squinted against the glow of the setting sun. The silhouettes of newly constructed buildings rose in the distance, filling the horizon with hope and the promise of progress.
Just then, Phelixes knocked on her door and stepped in, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. "Sis, dinner is ready."
With manpower stretched thin, Phelixes, in his role as adjutant, had also taken on the responsibility of preparing her meals. He embraced the duty with enthusiasm.
"This is sweet soup," he said as he placed it down. "I noticed your voice sounded hoarse during the meeting today. Drink this; it’ll help."
Lyra nodded, took a sip, and raised her eyebrows slightly. "Make this again tomorrow."
She was direct when offering opinions. If she liked something, she asked for more. If she didn’t, it was never mentioned again.
Seeing her approval, Phelixes grinned widely. "Understood!"
At that moment, Helion strolled in with a smirk. "Looks like I showed up at the perfect time. Boss, care to share some food?"
Before waiting for an answer, he grabbed a piece of bread from the table and bit into it. Flashing Phelixes a thumbs-up, he said, "Not bad, your cooking’s getting better."
Phelixes forced a smile. "If you’re hungry, the cafeteria’s open."
"Nothing there is as good as this," Helion retorted with a grin.
"My cooking isn’t for you," Phelixes snapped.
"Well, I’m eating it anyway."
"You—" Phelixes’s patience snapped, but before he could say more, Lyra calmly set down her spoon.
The soft sound instantly silenced both men.
"What’s the matter?" Lyra asked evenly.
Helion, still chewing, handed her a document. "A letter from Elden Prime just arrived."
Lyra opened it and read its contents. Her brows furrowed slightly. "Notify all regiment leaders to meet in the conference room in half an hour."
Though her expression barely changed, the subtle shift in her tone signaled urgency.
Half an hour later, the regiment leaders were assembled in the meeting room.
Placing the letter on the table, Lyra looked around and addressed them.
"The Alliance Military Council has ordered us to return to Elden Prime within a month to report on our progress. There will also be a commendation ceremony for our recent achievements."
The room fell silent as everyone processed the news. However, instead of relief or celebration, unease hung heavy in the air.
Caleb broke the silence, his analytical mind already at work. "The timing feels strange."
"Exactly," Helion added, his voice edged with sarcasm. "If they wanted us earlier, why wait until now? And if later, why not let us finish establishing the base? This timing is deliberate."
"It’s clear they’re up to something," Aurelius said coldly. "The recall comes right as the settlement is stabilizing. This is the busiest and most critical period."
Lyra calmly folded the letter. "Whatever their intentions, prepare your reports and follow the order. We leave nothing to chance."
Everyone nodded, though the tension in the room remained palpable. Whatever awaited them on Elden Prime, it was unlikely to be a simple celebration.
"Any Other News?" The group turned their eyes to Lyra.
"Not for now," she replied, her voice steady.
Even if there were additional updates, they wouldn’t be disclosed until she returned to Elden Prime.
After a brief pause, Lyra lowered her gaze, tapping her fingers lightly on the table before continuing.
"Helion and Aurelius will remain here to oversee the construction. The rest of you, prepare to leave for Elden Prime."
"What about Broken Blade and the others?" someone asked.
Lyra snorted faintly. "They didn’t tell us to bring the prisoners."
After the meeting, Lyra sat quietly in her office for a moment before heading to the base’s dungeon.
"Check mate!" a voice exclaimed as she approached.
"Win!" Broken Blade cheered, kicking Markle under the table. "Hurry up, hand over your drumstick!"
"Damn it! That’s three drumsticks already!" Markle groaned as he reluctantly handed over the prized piece of chicken from his tray.
When Lyra entered, she found the prisoners—dressed in pristine white uniforms—deeply engrossed in chess.
To pass the time, they had resorted to betting their daily rations.
This "prison" was hardly a dungeon in the traditional sense. It was spacious, equipped with beds, communal closets, a bathroom, and entertainment devices like a TV and opticomputers.
There were no superpower suppressors, no high-energy weapons, and even the three level-nine Peculiars weren’t restrained. Yet none dared consider escape.
To the prisoners, Lyra was like an unyielding force of nature, an immovable mountain. The moment she stepped into the room, their laughter ceased, and the air grew tense. Her visits rarely boded well.
"Well, well," Gino drawled lazily from his bed in the corner, "what brings Rear Admiral Shedd to this windless dungeon? Or did you finally grow a heart and bring me a bottle of wine?"
After six months without alcohol, Gino had cycled through frantic cravings, violent tantrums, and finally resignation. Every sober day felt like a slow torture.
"I’ll be leaving for Elden Prime in a week," Lyra said bluntly.
The three level-nine Peculiars froze at her words, their expressions shifting.
A moment later, glowing psychokinesis marks appeared on their foreheads, quelling any rebellious thoughts before they could form.
Of course, Lyra had anticipated their reactions. She wouldn’t leave them any opportunity to cause trouble.
Without acknowledging their unease, she continued, "There are a few matters I’ll need your cooperation on."
She dragged a chair forward and sat, crossing her legs. "Here’s the deal..."
As Lyra outlined her plan, the prisoners listened intently.
When she finished, Gino burst into laughter, clapping his hands. "You’re wasted in the military! What a shame you’re not a pirate!"
"She is just more honest than the rest of those military hypocrites," Broken Blade added, tossing her chicken leg aside, her interest clearly piqued.
Before long, Lyra and the bulk of the Legion of Everglow departed for Elden Prime.
When their starship landed at the bustling spaceport, it was immediately surrounded by journalists and camera crews.
"Rear Admiral Shedd has reclaimed Voidstar No. 1 in just six months. Today, she returns in triumph to a hero’s welcome in Central City!"
"Reports suggest Rear Admiral Shedd has surpassed Rear Admiral Cohen Whyte, becoming the most celebrated young officer in the Alliance."
Lyra disembarked with her usual composure, her regiment leaders—led by Grains—forming a protective barrier around her to fend off the eager press.
Inside the transport, Mandy addressed the reporters with a polite smile. "The military will host a press conference tomorrow morning to answer all your questions."
The emblem of the Legion of Everglow—the sun rising over a planet’s surface—gleamed proudly on vehicles and banners alike.
At the front of the parade, Lyra rode in an open-top lev, her calm demeanor unshaken by the cheers and flashes from the crowd.
Behind her, regiment leaders and their soldiers glided on hoverboards in precise formation, creating a synchronized display of discipline and strength.
The procession resembled a shimmering galaxy or a tidal wave, surging steadily toward the towering Alliance Military Council headquarters.
Chapter 304: The Stolen Achievement
It had been six months since Lyra’s Legion eliminated the pirate crews. Shortly after the war, all related reports had been promptly submitted.
After they came back to Elden Prime, rewards and promotions soon followed, officially recognizing their achievements.
Soldiers who had once been ordinary privates now wore new ranks.
Aurelius and Phelixes, for example—previously a regiment leader and an adjutant—were promoted three ranks in a single leap due to their crucial roles during the campaign.
The atmosphere after the promotion ceremony was jubilant. Even Lyra was summoned to the Alliance Military Council to receive commendations from Admiral Frederick.
Standing with her hands clasped behind her back, Lyra faced the council.
Admiral Dessel and Admiral Conners were physically present, while Fleet Admiral Frederick and four other admirals joined via holographic projections.
Of the group, only Raphel and Dessel appeared relatively young; the others had served in the military for six or seven decades, if not longer.
After some perfunctory praise, Frederick said, "You will remain on standby at the main base for now."
At first, it seemed like a routine instruction.
Lyra’s eyes lifted slightly. "Sir, when will I be reassigned to my garrison post?"
Her question caused a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Even Frederick’s expression faltered briefly.
The admirals exchanged quick glances, but Lyra’s gaze remained unwavering. Her calm yet calculating expression betrayed that she already suspected something.
Frederick replied with measured composure, "About your garrison assignment, we have made alternative arrangements."
All eyes turned to Lyra, waiting for her reaction.
After a moment of silence, her lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "So, after six months of effort—securing Voidstar No. 1 and building half the base—it turns out it was all for someone else’s benefit?"
Her words were razor-sharp, sending ripples through the room. She added, her tone biting, "Might I know who this shameless usurper is?"
The bluntness of her statement shattered the council’s façade of composure. One of the admirals scowled, barking, "Rear Admiral Shedd, watch your tone!"
Raphel, seated casually to the side, smirked and rubbed his ear. "Actually, I think Rear Admiral Shedd’s description is quite accurate."
Dessel, yawning lazily, chimed in, "Yeah, if you can’t handle the responsibility, don’t go snatching someone else’s hard-earned prize." His disdainful gaze landed squarely on Admiral Conners, who bristled under the unspoken accusation.
Even Valeria, known for her sharp tongue, remained unusually silent. Her crossed arms, however, betrayed her annoyance as her fingers tapped impatiently against her elbow.
She glanced briefly at Frederick, whose expression revealed little, then said nothing.
The truth was plain: the situation was profoundly unjust.
Lyra had worked tirelessly for months, sacrificing troops and resources to secure Voidstar No. 1—a location the Alliance had struggled to claim for years.
Yet now, Conners had maneuvered behind the scenes, leveraging political connections to reap the rewards.
Voidstar No. 1 was enormous, even larger than Wyrmtrace. While its immediate resources were limited, its strategic location on the Alliance’s border made it invaluable.
Future development would attract settlers and opportunities, turning the first garrison stationed there into a major power.
Everyone in the room understood the stakes.
Frederick finally broke the tense silence. "Voidstar No. 1 is located on the border. In times of war, it requires someone suitable to maintain stability."
But Lyra remained unfazed. "Sir, I believe I am more than capable of fulfilling that role."
Her defiance sent ripples through the council. She stood tall and unyielding, her sharp gaze cutting through the room.
Her refusal to yield left the admirals uneasy. She was like an unsheathed blade—dangerous, unpredictable, and unwilling to conform. One misstep, and it would cut deep.
Frederick’s stern gaze locked onto Lyra as he delivered his verdict. "Your attitude, that’s why. You’ve already accumulated enough influence on Wyrmtrace. We cannot allow you to develop Voidstar No. 1 unchecked. Sooner or later, you’d lead that territory beyond the Alliance’s jurisdiction."
His bluntness silenced the room, though many shared his concern, even if they wouldn’t say it aloud.
The reality was hard to ignore. Despite wartime challenges, Wyrmtrace’s development under Lyra’s leadership was nearing completion.
Her commercial strategies on the planet had already raised eyebrows. With her growing influence, even a small maneuver on her part could destabilize Wyrmtrace’s entire system.
Combined with her rebellious nature and undeniable strength, neither the government nor the military could risk letting her claim Voidstar No. 1.
If fortune favored her, she could control two planets and potentially declare independence. Worse, she might use them as footholds to consolidate power over the entire Alliance.
The truth was simple: the government feared Lyra. She sought both power and wealth—and had the ability to obtain them.
Lyra stood alone, facing them all. Her presence filled the room like a brewing storm. Yet her expression remained unreadable as she said calmly, "Understood, sir."
She did not argue or protest further. Her stillness seemed like a graceful surrender, but the tension in the room only thickened.
Frederick broke the silence. "Wait outside."
Lyra left without hesitation, her back straight and unyielding.
As the doors closed behind her, the council resumed their debate about her reassignment.
The discussion dragged on without resolution.
"We all fear her, but we need her abilities," someone finally admitted. "Why not keep her stationed on Elden Prime? Deploy her where she’s most effective."
It was a clear attempt to reduce Lyra to a mere weapon—powerful, versatile, and expendable. The council sought to use her like a cannon, aimed and fired as needed.
Dessel leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh, his disdain palpable. His expression screamed "hypocrisy" as he muttered, "Of course. We hold the power, so why should we care about what that young woman feels?"
He remembered his own frustrations as a young officer, and his disgust deepened.
Raphel, seated nearby, glared silently at the council. His clenched fists suggested he’d rather fight than argue.
Conners, always eager to assert control, smirked as he addressed the dissenters. "Admirals Dessel and Raphel, do you have objections to the council’s decision?"
Dessel scoffed and met the bait head-on. "Yes."
Raphel didn’t hesitate. "Big ones."
Frederick tapped his desk lightly, signaling for them to explain. "Let’s hear them."
Dessel straightened, his lazy demeanor gone, and spoke with sharp conviction. "You already know the answer, Sir. Lyra has ambition, but she also has the strength to back it up. People like her thrive on trust, not suppression. If you’re so intent on clipping her wings now, you might as well have killed her off when she was a cadet."
Raphel, as usual, was more direct. "She wants power? Let her have it. She’s not even forty yet. With her capabilities, she could guarantee the Alliance centuries of stability. What happens after that doesn’t matter—we’ll all be long dead by then."
Both admirals spoke with brutal honesty, but Frederick’s response was curt. "Her garrison will be assigned on Elden Prime."
Dessel’s frustration peaked. For all their arguments, Frederick seemed deaf to reason, hearing only sarcasm.
After the council reconvened, Lyra was called back into the chamber to be informed of her new assignment: Elden Prime, Vangarou Continent.
Lyra accepted the decision with apparent composure. "Understood, sir," she replied, then added, "I’d like to request annual leave to handle private matters."
Frederick’s brow furrowed slightly. "What kind of private matters, if I may ask?"
The question was loaded, and not without reason—was she planning a coup on Wyrmtrace?
Lyra answered evenly. "There are specialized technical operations on Wyrmtrace that require my personal oversight."
Wyrmtrace’s development was nearly complete, and it was time to finalize matters, including sending Shane and the others back to their origins.
Since Wyrmtrace fell under his jurisdiction, Frederick reluctantly approved her leave. Yet he remained wary.
Lyra’s connections to unsavory groups like the Snakeheads continued to stir distrust among the upper echelons of the Alliance.
To many in the military, her alliances blurred the line between ambition and loyalty. They questioned whether she possessed the principles required of a commanding officer.
Chapter 305: Staying On Elden Prime
As the meeting adjourned, the holograms of the admirals disappeared one by one. Only Conners and Dessel, who had attended in person, lingered in the room.
Conners, buoyed by his recent victory, wore his usual smug grin. "Well, it must have been a hard day for you, Rear Admiral Shedd. I truly appreciate all your hard work on Voidstar No. 1."
Dessel rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t stick.
He’d always known Conners was a snake, but his audacity today was remarkable.
Lyra inclined her head slightly. "You’re too kind."
Conners, eager to twist the knife, pressed on. "I must thank you—not just for defeating those ruthless space pirates and securing Voidstar No. 1, but for building such a strong foundation there. Thanks to your efforts, I can enjoy all the rewards with ease."
If he expected her to lash out, he was sorely mistaken.
Lyra’s expression remained serene, even magnanimous, as she replied, "The space pirates are indeed ruthless. I hope you return safely."
PFFT!
Dessel couldn’t hold back a laugh. As Conners turned to glare at him, Dessel simply grinned wider and said nothing.
Fuming, Conners stormed off, his robes swishing with the force of his stride.
Before leaving, he glanced back at the council chamber, his expression momentarily triumphant. ’Surely this time, Lyra’s trust in Frederick has fractured,’ he thought.
---
Inside, only Dessel and Lyra remained.
Dessel’s amusement faded as he sighed, his expression turning serious. "Your biggest problem is that your ambition is too obvious. The old guard won’t let you rise unchecked."
The Alliance had no tolerance for those who disrupted its fragile stability.
Lyra’s reply was cold, her words cutting like steel. "What’s wrong with ambition? You’ve spent years lying low and playing it safe, and now here you are—stuck on Elden Prime, wasting away in meetings and taking naps."
To her, a life without ambition was no life at all. Power and wealth weren’t just desires—they were necessities.
Though her tone was measured, her scorn was unmistakable. Dessel found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
He couldn’t deny it. He and Raphel had faced the same suppression during their rise. They were only called to the forefront in times of crisis, never allowed to access the true centers of power.
After a moment, Dessel chuckled dryly. "Ha, can’t argue with that."
He grabbed his hat from the table and inspected it absently before placing it back on his head. "The Alliance has lasted for thousands of years. The old guard hates nothing more than seeing the young rise above them."
His mind wandered to talented peers who had been driven out or stifled. Andre, for example, had left at the first opportunity, choosing to teach at the NMA rather than endure the bureaucracy.
Dessel was just venting his frustrations when Lyra’s reply sent a chill down his spine. "Then why should these useless old men live at all?"
He froze, watching as Lyra turned and walked away. Her steps were confident, her silhouette framed by the bright light streaming in from the hallway.
But despite the light, Dessel felt an unmistakable chill. The shadow she cast seemed impossibly dark and cold.
Valeria, still fuming after the council meeting, wasted no time contacting Frederick. Her voice was sharp, bordering on accusatory. "When did you become so intolerant? Lyra is far more qualified than Cohen to lead the Alliance into the future!"
Her frustration was palpable. Lyra was a rare talent—someone who had surpassed all expectations to achieve greatness.
"With her, we wouldn’t have to fear change. She could transform the Alliance, even bridge the divide with the Empire! She could unify humanity!"
During the meeting, Valeria had barely restrained herself from shouting.
On the screen, Frederick’s face was drawn, his expression marked by exhaustion. The faint lines around his eyes twitched as he replied, "Do you honestly think I’m suppressing her out of spite?"
Valeria lit a cigarette with trembling hands, her anger seeping into her movements. "Then tell me why."
Frederick was silent for a long moment before answering. "She’s brilliant and resourceful, no question. But her methods—she has no boundaries. The consequences of that could be catastrophic."
Frederick respected Lyra’s abilities, even admired her. But entrusting her with the Alliance’s future? That was a risk he could never take.
Valeria froze, her cigarette held mid-air. She took a long drag, the nicotine steadying her nerves enough to think clearly.
After a moment, she rubbed her face, fatigue visible in her every motion.
"Maybe you’re right. Or maybe you’re making a colossal mistake. I... don’t know."
The call ended, leaving Frederick to lean back in his chair, his usually stiff posture sagging. He pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to ease the headache forming behind his eyes.
...
Cohen and Thierry arrived shortly after, entering to find Frederick visibly weary. Whatever anger they’d felt coming in dissipated at the sight of him.
Frederick spoke first. "You’re here to plead Lyra’s case too, aren’t you?" His gaze settled heavily on his son and nephew.
Cohen, still simmering with frustration, blurted out, "Father, I don’t understand. Why are you doing this to her?"
Frederick was quiet for a long time, searching for the right words. Finally, he said, "When you reach my position, you’ll understand."
Cohen opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words.
Thierry, standing silently at his side, had nothing to add.
The weight of Frederick’s authority and visible exhaustion left them both speechless.
As they left the room, the hallway outside was filled with a tense silence. Thierry finally broke it. "Cohen, we may not fully understand his reasons, but for now," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "what we CAN do is support Lyra however we can."
Cohen sighed but nodded, clapping Thierry on the shoulder. "You’re right."
Lyra never let setbacks stop her. She moved with relentless determination, leaving behind a trail of cold, calculated action. Cohen believed this time would be no different.
Outside the council building, Lyra was met by Phelixes, his face bright with excitement.
"Sis! Everyone’s been promoted! Let’s head back to Voidstar No. 1. Aurelius and the others can’t wait to show off their new insignias!"
He laughed, already making plans. "Once we’re settled, we should celebrate. You owe us drinks!"
Lyra’s response, however, was like a bucket of cold water.
"Relay my orders: Helion and Aurelius are to gather the remaining troops and return to Elden Prime immediately. We’ll regroup with the main force and prepare for deployment to our new post on Vangarou Continent in two weeks."
Phelixes blinked, his smile faltering. "What? A new post? What about Voidstar No. 1?"
Robin, quick to piece things together, frowned deeply. "Who’s taking over Voidstar No. 1?"
Lyra’s answer was calm but carried an edge that silenced them. "Admiral Conners."
The mood among the group shifted in an instant. Excitement and pride gave way to heavy disappointment. Even the most optimistic among them now stood like withered flowers.
No one voiced their bitterness, but the betrayal was clear. The triumph they had fought so hard for now felt hollow, replaced by a bitter sense of injustice as they prepared to move forward.
Lyra didn’t mince words when facing the press. "Since the garrison location has changed, I will no longer accept interviews regarding Voidstar No. 1. For any questions, please direct them to Admiral Conners."
With that parting remark, she boarded her Lev and departed, leaving the press in stunned silence.
One reporter scratched his head, visibly puzzled. "Wait... Rear Admiral Shedd led the effort to reclaim Voidstar No. 1. How did it end up under Admiral Conners’ command?"
The story caught fire immediately.
As the broadcast went live, Conners found himself cornered by a swarm of reporters before he could even attempt to dodge them.
"Admiral Conners, why are you now stationed at Voidstar No. 1?"
"Did you take credit for Rear Admiral Shedd’s achievement?"
"Was this the result of an Alliance Military Council decision, or did you exert influence behind the scenes?"
News headlines, originally prepared to celebrate Lyra’s success, were rewritten to focus on the brewing scandal.
The story quickly became a major controversy, sparking widespread outrage.
Journalists poured their frustration into scathing articles, condemning the injustice. Meanwhile, Lyra’s vast fanbase took to social media, expressing their fury and demanding answers.
The backlash was swift and severe, with both the military and Admiral Conners facing intense criticism from the public. The incident became a flashpoint for questioning the integrity of the Alliance’s leadership.