Ch. 326..330: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 326-330
Chapter 326: Starting with Lyra
Cohen strode forward.
Lyra’s eyes, as always, held a distant indifference, forcing Cohen’s almost outstretched hands to clench tightly in restraint.
’How have you been all these years? Were you hurt? How did you come back?’—A thousand questions swirled in his mind, but in the end, he only saluted and said, "Rear Admiral Shedd, welcome back."
Lyra showed no sign of emotion as she returned the salute. "It’s good to see you again, Vice Admiral Whyte."
In the brief silence that followed, the three years of separation created a chasm of unfamiliarity between them.
"How did you end up in the Empire?" Cohen asked.
Lyra replied calmly, "We drifted through space for three years. Not long ago, we finally found a human settlement and happened to encounter Lieutenant Scarvici."
Cohen glanced at Scarvici, who nodded hurriedly, confirming Lyra’s words.
He had already done his research the moment he recognized Lyra. Quietly, he had looked into her history and confirmed that Rear Admiral Shedd had not defected to the Empire. Only then did he feel secure enough to speak to her directly.
Cohen finally relaxed. It was ironic—he had thought of her for so long, but now that she was back, he had to first clear her of suspicion.
"Take Rear Admiral Shedd and..." His gaze fell on Phelixes, who had been silently observing him.
The black-haired young man saluted. "Vice Admiral, I am Rear Admiral Shedd’s adjutant, Phelixes."
Cohen nodded. "Arrange quarters for the two of them."
It was this young man who had stayed by Lyra’s side for three years.
The two quarters were separate. Phelixes hesitated briefly outside his door, but Lyra didn’t spare him a glance before closing hers.
In deep space, the two of them had always been inseparable, except when searching for resources. Now that they were back in the Alliance fleet and suddenly separated, Phelixes found it hard to adjust.
Of course, this discomfort was his alone.
...
When Iskandor was brought back to the battleship, his pale, muscular body was riddled with bloody holes.
He tried to use the power of the Stellar Devourer to heal his wounds, but they showed no signs of recovery. Blood quickly pooled beneath his feet.
As the medics stood helpless, he said coldly, "Use the medical repair device."
Once the device was applied, the wounds closed instantly.
Iskandor threw on his coat, his silver hair still dripping blood. Long, snowy-white lashes half-covered his ice-blue eyes, which were as calm as ever.
Sitting on the high chair, he looked like a scene from a master’s painting—impossible to fully capture.
At that moment, a ship even larger than the main battleship approached slowly. The Empire officers’ expressions darkened as the ship established communication.
"Admiral Iskandor, our leader wishes to speak with you." Liliana’s voice was unhurried, soft, and languid.
The command room of the Empire battleship fell into utter silence.
Iskandor rose from his seat.
The Empire officers panicked, pleading anxiously. "Admiral, you mustn’t!"
"The Long Night is unstoppable now. Be careful—they might ally with the Alliance!"
Iskandor raised a hand, and the room fell silent immediately. "It’s fine."
Without further delay, he used an interdimensional corridor to board the other ship.
Liliana was already waiting for him. "This way, sir." She opened a door beside her.
Iskandor stepped inside and saw someone studying a map of the Empire and Alliance territories.
"You’re here?" the person said without looking up.
Iskandor gave a small nod and moved to stand beside him. "How’s the preparation coming along?"
The tone of their conversation was oddly familiar.
"Almost complete," replied the figure in the armor, pointing to a spot on the map. "We’ll begin here."
Iskandor offered no opinion, simply stating, "Everything is in motion. Let’s begin."
Together, they stared at the glowing points on the map.
"We’ll start with Lyra."
...
After reuniting with the Legion of Flaring Stars, Lyra slept for a solid twenty hours—until a knock at her door finally woke her.
"Sis, I made you some oatmeal porridge," said Phelixes, standing at the door.
Phelixes was always mindful of her health. Whenever she hadn’t eaten for a long time, his first instinct was to make her something simple and nourishing.
Lyra opened the door and let him in, noticing the steaming food in his hand.
After finishing her meal, she watched as Phelixes cleaned up the dishes. Suddenly, she asked, "Do you know why the Stellar Devourers have been able to track our movements so easily this entire time?"
The sound of dishes crashing to the floor shattered the moment.
"I..." Phelixes stuttered, as if something had got his tongue.
He looked up, meeting Lyra’s icy gaze.
...
When Cohen arrived, Phelixes was wiping his eyes.
His dark hair and clear eyes stood out against his pale skin. Now, his tear-reddened eyes, flushed nose, and softly blushed lips formed a striking contrast—deeper than peach blossoms, but lighter than roses.
The effect was unexpectedly captivating, a fragile beauty.
Unfortunately for Phelixes, he was a man, and Cohen had no patience to admire such a sight.
He got straight to the point. "The enemy admiral is closing in. We’ve adjusted our course. Do you have any other plans?" asked Cohen.
"I’ll follow your lead," Lyra replied flatly. Right now, all she wanted was to get back as soon as possible.
...
Meanwhile, aboard the Empire battleship, Westros entered the command room, accompanied by a large number of Stellar Devourers.
"Are you certain you can deal with her?" he asked.
Iskandor gave the slightest nod. "I can keep her restrained, for now."
"Hmph, at least you’re useful," Westros sneered.
He couldn’t help but recall the experiments he had conducted in the past—and the experiment that had inadvertently created Lyra.
This woman had evolved at an unimaginable speed, and now she was on the verge of becoming the ultimate destroyer of the Stellar Devourers. Westros deeply regretted his mistakes.
"Let’s end this today," he said coldly.
With that, countless Stellar Devourers swarmed out, ready to overwhelm their target.
Chapter 327: A Stellar Devourer
At the border between Alliance and Empire territories, pitch-black holes spread across the vast void of space, making the universe look like a tattered and broken tapestry.
From within the darkness, Stellar Devourers emerged in waves, surging straight for Lyra, who stood surrounded in the center.
At the same time, a brilliant emerald glow burst forth, sealing off the power that the Stellar Devourers had always prided themselves on.
Lyra’s blade moved so quickly it left only afterimages, effortlessly harvesting the lives of the monstrous beings. She grew faster, her strikes sharper, her power surging to greater heights.
Standing behind his army, Westros grew restless. "What is going on? It’s been an hour, and her superpower shows no signs of weakening!"
He clenched his hands tighter as he watched the unstoppable figure of the woman in the distance.
Beside him, Iskandor spoke calmly. "I’ll assist."
The moment he moved, Phelixes—who had been waiting in the launch bay—entered his mecha.
"Wait!" Cohen stepped forward to stop him. "With your strength, you’ll just be throwing your life away."
Cohen knew that entering this battle would mean certain death.
Phelixes shook his head. "I promised HER I would always stand by her side."
Even if it meant dying, he would not regret it.
Without another word, he closed the cockpit, engaged the launch rails, and shot out into space.
Cohen pressed his lips together tightly, then turned on his heel and strode out of the launch bay. "Order the fleet to advance at full speed."
Kogar followed him and asked, "Aren’t we waiting for Rear Admiral Shedd?"
"She’ll catch up," Cohen replied as he returned to the command room. Watching the satellite feed of the battle unfolding behind them, he clenched his fists. "If there’s danger, she can escape faster than any of us. Besides, we can’t risk the Legion of Flaring Stars for her alone."
Even though he wasn’t sure what tricks the Empire had up their sleeves, leaving Lyra surrounded while the fleet escaped was an opportunity they couldn’t pass up.
That woman was always walking on the edge of death, but she never failed to hold onto her survival instincts.
Kogar was taken aback. He knew better than anyone how Cohen felt about Lyra, yet here he was, choosing to leave without hesitation.
After experiencing the loss of his younger brother, Cohen had learned to stay calm in any situation.
Looking at the commanding figure of his superior, Kogar silently felt relieved. Thank goodness my commander isn’t a love-struck fool.
...
Left behind, Lyra continued to fight.
Technically, it wasn’t a fight—it was a one-sided slaughter of Stellar Devourers.
Iskandor hovered at the edges of the battlefield, subtly interfering.
"Break!" This time, unlike his usual calm commands, his tone carried more weight, and the resulting attack was far more powerful.
Phelixes, piloting his mecha, flew alongside Lyra. Each time he heard the voice in his mind, he pushed his superpower to counter the enemy’s forces.
But the strain was immense. Blood began to seep from his eyes, nose, and even his ears. His vision blurred, and he shook his head repeatedly to stay awake, sensing something stirring deep within his body.
"Stop!" He gritted his teeth and pushed his power again, but this time, everything went black. His superpower faltered.
"Damn it!" Lyra’s body froze for a split second. In that moment, countless black holes rushed toward her, ready to tear her apart.
A Stellar Devourer charged at Phelixes, his attack slicing him cleanly in two.
At the exact moment of his injury, a black vortex expanded from Phelixes’ body, swallowing the nearby black holes.
The vortex’s pull was irresistible. Nearby mechas and fighters were sucked in instantly, vanishing without a trace.
Even the Stellar Devourers couldn’t escape—black energy seeped from their bodies, drawn back into the growing void.
And then, within mere moments, Phelixes—whose body had been severed—restored himself as if nothing had happened.
His true identity was undeniable.
Phelixes was a Stellar Devourer.
Iskandor retreated far back, his brows furrowing deeply. "Has it already begun?"
Westros’ reaction was completely different. He threw his head back and laughed wildly. "Hahaha, it’s happening—it’s finally happening!"
On the Legion of Flaring Stars flagship, Cohen stepped closer to the screen, his wide eyes full of disbelief. "Phelixes... how could he be a Stellar Devourer?"
After a brief silence, Kogar sighed heavily. "That explains his unusual superpower."
The ability to neutralize any superpower—that was essentially the very nature of a Stellar Devourer’s black holes.
What puzzled them was that, during his time as a cadet and soldier, Phelixes must have undergone countless medical examinations. By all accounts, he had been entirely human.
Through the transparent shield of her helmet, Lyra’s expression darkened. Her gaze fixed on the young man at the center of the vortex. Her body, glowing with emerald light, surged forward in an attempt to pull him out.
She could suppress this power, yet she couldn’t remove him from the vortex. It was as though the vortex was part of him; wherever he moved, it moved with him.
"Sis, you should leave..." Phelixes’s voice was weak as the black vortex began to swallow him. "I’ve been running from it for so long, but it finally caught me."
Lyra released him, floating silently in front of him. "What’s going on?"
"I... am the embodiment of THE Black Hole," Phelixes said with great difficulty.
When the Stellar Devourers first appeared, so too did he, manifesting as part of the same cosmic rules.
He had chosen a human form, but his nature remained—an instinctive urge to devour everything: planets, humans, entire systems.
From the moment Westros discovered him, orchestrating his capture by the Seething Fires space pirates, to his "rescue" by the Alliance military, it had all been part of the Empire’s conspiracy.
Suddenly, Lyra understood. That sense of deep repulsion she had always felt from Phelixes, coupled with his inexplicable closeness to her—it all made sense.
They were two sides of the same coin, both embodiments of universal laws. They existed together, bound by forces greater than themselves: creation and destruction, inseparable yet contradictory.
"Leave, before I step into Alliance territory!" Phelixes’s eyes turned completely black as he struggled to suppress his own instincts.
With his presence, the Stellar Devourers’ power surged dramatically.
Worse, they were now regenerating faster than ever.
Lyra could feel Phelixes’ power climbing rapidly—surpassing level-nine, ascending toward Supreme.
"Sis, please—go!" he begged, his voice tight with desperation as the black vortex stretched like massive hands, wrapping around his head and limbs.
Lyra looked at him one last time before activating her light mecha, turning and escaping.
"After her!" Westros roared impatiently. "We must take her down this time!"
As Lyra sped toward the Legion of Flaring Stars, she slashed through the Stellar Devourers that pursued her.
Her blade gleamed like a streak of emerald lightning. She pierced the head of one Stellar Devourer, then kicked off his body, spinning midair to cleave another in two.
A faint green glow shone persistently in the black-hole-infested void, refusing to be swallowed.
"What... what is going on?"
Westros’ excitement didn’t even last half an hour. Soon, he was stunned into silence by Lyra’s increasingly powerful attacks and movements.
"Why is her power still growing?"
Her slender figure seemed like an endless spring, a constant flow of energy surging stronger and stronger with every passing moment.
Suddenly, Lyra swung her blade, sending a thousand-meter-long green arc slicing through space. Even nearby celestial bodies trembled from the force of her strike.
"I’ve found it," Lyra whispered softly to herself.
The stars and meteors around her began to sing, countless streams of emerald light converging upon her.
She was ascending—evolving.
In that moment, Westros’ face paled drastically. "No... this can’t be happening."
Chapter 328: Supreme Lyra
"I see now..." Westros murmured, his gaze fixed on Lyra, a look of disbelief creeping onto his face. "I was just wondering why her power was increasing so quickly..."
Around Lyra, the floating corpses of the Stellar Devourers were slowly withering away.
Westros muttered to himself again, "So, the more Stellar Devourers she kills, the more power the rules grant her."
Because her power was born to counter the Stellar Devourers, every kill strengthened the very rules she was bound to. In turn, she could draw even more strength from them.
Even now, though they had reclaimed the avatar of the black hole, it only meant Lyra would grow even stronger.
Like a god descending upon the battlefield, Lyra merely spread her fingers, and a green light instantly bound the Stellar Devourers.
With a slight clench of her fist, the Stellar Devourers attacking her shattered into nothingness with a dull bang.
Iskandor frowned, his brows tightening. "Seal!"
A burst of green light flared from Lyra, effortlessly shattering Iskandor’s superpower.
She was no longer afraid of anything. Her gaze lingered briefly on Iskandor and Westros before she leapt into the vast depths of the universe.
With green energy shields under her feet, she jumped through space, streaking across the void like a comet.
The gap between a Supreme Peculiar and an ordinary Peculiar was as vast as the heavens themselves, and the reason lay in the source of their power.
Ordinary Peculiars could only draw energy from a small, localized range. Supremes, however, could tap into the energy of an entire planet.
This was why, when a Supreme acted, it could easily disrupt a planet’s ecological balance.
To ascend to a Supreme Peculiar, one needed more than just psychokinesis.
The true key was understanding the essence of superpower—the forces that governed the universe and kept all things running along their destined trajectories.
Now, floating in the depths of space filled with countless gravitational fields, Lyra felt she could pull the gravity from any planet at will, rendering it lifeless.
Westros stood frozen for a long moment, unable to recover from the shock. "Are we truly doomed to perish at her hands?"
He watched as Phelixes was completely swallowed by the black hole. "No. We still have one last card to play."
He turned to Iskandor. "Begin."
Iskandor’s eyes, devoid of any emotion, lowered slightly. "Understood."
...
Lyra soon caught up with the Legion of Flaring Stars.
As she stepped into the recovery bay, she was met with countless awe-filled gazes.
The legendary Rear Admiral Lyra Shedd had been lost in space for three years. Not only had she returned safely, but she had also become the youngest Supreme in human history.
Cohen looked at her, his heart racing uncontrollably. After a moment of silence, he asked, "What do you plan to do next?"
"First, notify the Legion of Everglow," Lyra replied calmly.
Cohen nodded, already imagining the waves of shock this news would bring.
And just as he expected, by the time they arrived at Elden Prime’s Central City, the spaceport was already surrounded by a restless crowd.
"Rear Admiral Shedd is back! Where is she?"
"We want to see Lyra!"
"Let Rear Admiral Shedd come out!"
But the crowd was destined to be disappointed.
...
At the Legion of Everglow’s military base, Aurelius strode quickly through the hallways and burst into the secretary’s office. "Lieutenant Commander Mandy, Rear Admiral Shedd has returned. We must hurry to the spaceport to greet her!"
Mandy, a blonde officer wearing glasses, looked up from the files she was handling. "You know we can’t move without orders, Aurelius. Have you forgotten the rules?"
Aurelius frowned deeply. "Why do you seem so calm? Aren’t you excited at all?"
When Lyra disappeared years ago, Mandy had locked herself away, crying for two full days.
Now that she had returned, Mandy seemed completely unshaken.
Mandy removed her glasses and wiped them calmly, her demeanor steady and mature. "Because I always knew she would come back."
She knew this universe could never trap Lyra. It would only allow her to roam free, unfettered and unstoppable.
"You truly are someone she trusts," Aurelius said ambiguously, his tone unreadable. "You’re not going? Fine, I’ll take everyone else with me."
He could hardly wait to see Lyra again.
"Stop right there!" Mandy stood up, stopping him cold. "If you want to go, then go alone. Don’t drag the other officers into THAT!"
Aurelius argued, "Hmph, they’re willing to go..."
"Willing, my foot," Helion scoffed as he walked in, picking his ear lazily. "I think you’re just feeling guilty. What’s the matter? Want to see Rear Admiral as soon as possible so she can kill you quicker?"
Following him were Robin, Elsie, and a few others—familiar faces who had once helped Lyra establish the legion.
Aurelius’ face darkened further at the sight of them. "Helion, as Adjutant, I expect you to watch your words."
"Oh? So you still know I’m the Adjutant?" Helion crossed his arms, a mocking smile curling his lips. "Anyone else would think you’re trying to lead a little regiment of your own."
Just as Aurelius was about to retort, a cold voice rang out from the doorway, "Who’s trying to lead their own legion?"
Everyone turned their heads at once, their movements sharp and synchronized.
There, standing in the doorway, was Lyra.
She wasn’t wearing a military uniform. Instead, she was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black fitted pants, with mid-calf boots on her feet.
After three years, the pressure she exuded was even more suffocating. The office, though large, suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if the air itself had thickened.
Mandy was the first to react. She stepped around her desk and strode forward with quick, steady steps. "Lyra, welcome back!"
Her eyes reddened slightly, but her composure was far more reserved than it used to be.
Lyra gave a small nod and settled herself on the couch across from the desk. Her gaze fell on Aurelius, whose face was shifting between pale and flushed. She raised her chin slightly. "Explain."
Helion snorted and answered for him. "What’s there to explain? Isn’t it obvious? SOME PEOPLE couldn’t follow orders after you were gone. They turned tail and begged the Alliance Military Council for scraps of favor."
The higher-ups had clearly wanted to dissolve the Legion of Everglow. Aurelius, however, had taken his men and run off to complete missions on his own, as if trying to prove himself.
Helion’s scathing words struck a nerve in Aurelius, who immediately fired back, "You two Adjutants acted separately as well, didn’t you?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, he froze under Lyra’s cold gaze. He had practically admitted to everything. Still, he quickly regained his composure—after all, it was true. Whether he admitted it sooner or later didn’t matter.
"Even if we hadn’t split up, Rear Admiral Shedd was gone for three years. The higher-ups were going to disband the Legion of Everglow eventually," Aurelius said with a frown. "By acting separately, we bought more time."
He knew that his disdain for the three Adjutants had played a role in his decision to act alone, but the bigger reason was simple: if they hadn’t split voluntarily, the higher-ups would have forced it anyway.
The only reason they’d lasted three years was because the military hadn’t confirmed Lyra’s death. Several Admirals had supported keeping the Legion of Everglow intact.
Lyra turned her gaze to the other two Adjutants.
Helion raised his hand casually and said, "I’ve been working with Lieutenant Commander Mandy these past few years."
The forces under Helion’s command were the most intact, including Vikie, Elsie, Kolan, and several other old comrades—essentially the "official" remnants of the Legion of Everglow.
Robin shrugged. "The Alliance Military Council offered me command of the legion, but I refused."
Mandy followed up with an explanation. "Robin and Helion acting separately was something we agreed on. It was to make the higher-ups let their guard down."
The more united they seemed, the more the higher-ups feared them. So they’d chosen to split up deliberately, giving the council what it wanted to see.
Lyra nodded slightly before turning her gaze back to Aurelius. "And what about you? What’s your excuse now?"
The only one truly trying to go independent was Aurelius.
Aurelius felt as though he were sitting on pins and needles. Under Lyra’s unwavering gaze, he exhaled sharply and finally relented. "Now that you’re back, of course, I’ll follow your lead."
Chapter 329: Standing Shoulder to Shoulder with Ronin
The Legion of Everglow was a legendary army founded and led by Lyra herself, forged in the fires of the Voidstar No. 1 battle.
To them—both in spirit and reality—she would forever remain their leader.
When she donned her military uniform again and stood before the soldiers, some of them couldn’t hold back their tears.
It was as if the three years of her absence had never happened.
Aurelius clenched his fists when he heard the faint sounds of sobbing coming from his regiment.
Three years—he had fought and bled alongside them, yet he still couldn’t compare to her.
Lyra didn’t waste words. After a brief reunion, she ordered everyone to resume their regular training.
Not long after, the summons from the Alliance Military Council arrived.
As they watched her leave, Helion rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Still as stunning as ever."
Vikie shot him a disgusted look. "What nonsense are you spewing now?"
Helion joked, "I was just thinking... I’m even less worthy of her than before. How can someone be so outstanding?"
Vikie smirked. "At least you’re self-aware."
"Doesn’t matter. There’s no one in humanity who’s worthy of her anyway, so I’m not worried." Helion laced his hands behind his head with a lazy grin. "Plus, that little leech Phelixes is finally gone. Now that’s what I call double the celebration."
Vikie gave him a sidelong glance, thoroughly unimpressed. "You’re insufferable."
...
The small conference room felt eerily familiar, though it was missing Conners and Dale. Their seats had been taken over by Leandro.
It was a reunion after three years, and while Lyra’s icy expression remained as unshakeable as ever, the others couldn’t hide their discomfort.
Standing before them was the youngest Supreme Peculiar in history. No one could begin to fathom her current combat power.
"Welcome back, Rear Admiral Shedd," Frederick said first, breaking the silence.
Looking at her, he couldn’t help but recall something Cohen had once said: If we hadn’t put her under confinement, Thierry wouldn’t have died.
If she hadn’t been restrained, she might have had the chance to stop Conners from letting the Empire’s fleet through. But what was the point of dwelling on the past?
Lyra saluted crisply. "It’s an honor for me."
Before being swallowed by the black hole, she had exposed Conners’ true identity and fought to kill him, preventing even greater losses.
Afterward, the Alliance followed Conners’ trail and uncovered a network of traitors embedded deep within their ranks.
However, this did little to reverse the Alliance’s declining fortunes.
Years of war had ravaged the Alliance’s economy and society.
At the war’s start, a kilogram of ordinary rice cost only three astrocredits. Now, it was six.
Prices for essential resources like crystal minerals and electricity had multiplied several times over.
On the streets, solar-powered vehicles were becoming increasingly common.
To put it plainly, the Alliance had already lost key border planets such as Snowfall, Demetra, and both Voidstar No. 1 and No. 2. Their territory had shrunk by nearly a third, and they continued to retreat on all fronts.
The dissolution of Conners’ and Dale’s legions left the military critically short-staffed.
This was the reason why younger officers, led by Cohen and his peers, had risen so quickly.
"Rear Admiral Shedd," Frederick continued, "please submit a detailed report summarizing your whereabouts over these past years. Additionally, we need you to explain the matter of Adjutant Phelixes’s identity."
Lyra’s response was direct and concise. "I rescued Phelixes years ago on Wyrmtrace. His identity was verified at the time by Vice Admiral Cohen Whyte, Vice Admiral Chuck Whyte, and Captain Rymes. I adopted him through proper legal channels."
In other words, even those in charge of verification back then hadn’t uncovered any irregularities regarding Phelixes. She had simply acted within the law.
Yet the Alliance Military Council still harbored suspicions about her and her connection to the Stellar Devourers. No matter what she did, their prejudices lingered.
"His superpower is so unusual—did you really not notice anything?" someone asked sharply.
It was the first time these people, who had quietly supported Conners and other old higher-ups from the shadows, finally confronted her face-to-face.
Most of them were retired veterans—long-lived, thick-skinned, and deeply entrenched in their prejudices.
Lyra glanced at the white-haired elders. "His superpower was tested and verified by the official Alliance inspection agency."
In other words, it had nothing to do with her.
One of the admirals coldly accused her, "But you still bear responsibility for inadequate supervision."
"Yet he never did anything to harm the interests of the Alliance," Lyra replied calmly and firmly.
Ronin, standing with her hands tucked into her sleeves, scoffed coldly. "Maybe Conners only took the fall for him."
The moment her words fell, Ronin felt herself enveloped by an overwhelming, frigid pressure. Lyra’s gaze slid sharply toward her.
"The betrayal of Conners was witnessed by all. I advise you, Supreme Ronin, not to speak recklessly out of prejudice," Lyra said flatly, her voice calm yet chilling enough to send shivers down their spines.
Ronin’s eyes widened. "Are you threatening me?"
"Not a threat. A warning," Lyra corrected, her voice even and unwavering. She stood with her hands behind her back, technically reporting to people positioned above her. Yet her presence far outmatched theirs.
She met Ronin’s gaze directly. "After all, with my current strength, I can sit right next to you if I want, you know."
The room fell silent. Everyone’s expressions shifted.
It was true—Lyra was no longer someone a Supreme could suppress. In fact, she could rightfully be considered the strongest beneath the Overarching level.
Ronin’s arrogance wisely receded. Instead, she abruptly asked a question that left everyone stunned. "You spent three years living day and night with Phelixes. Did you develop a relationship?"
Lyra frowned slightly, wondering how the conversation had turned in this direction. She answered calmly, "No, I have not."
Ronin’s skeptical gaze made her disbelief obvious. A man and woman alone for three years—how could there be no feelings involved?
"I hope you understand that you cannot have children..." Ronin began.
"Supreme Ronin, I believe we’re straying off-topic," Lyra interrupted sharply. "May I ask if I am dismissed?"
Frederick blinked in surprise. He had expected her to ask about military deployments or the council’s plans for her and the Legion of Everglow.
To his astonishment, Lyra’s demeanor remained completely calm.
"For now, stay in Central City and await further orders," Frederick said finally.
Lyra saluted. "Understood. I take my leave."
...
As she stepped out of the council building, the blinding sunlight of Central City hit her face. She narrowed her eyes slightly, adjusting to the brightness.
A group of her subordinates rushed to meet her.
"Ma’am, how did it go? What are their plans?" someone asked eagerly.
"They’re not actually going to disband us, are they?" Aurelius muttered, his brow furrowed.
Helion scoffed. "Are you kidding me? With HER current strength, who would dare suggest such a thing?"
"If Rear Admiral Shedd decides she’s had enough and defects to the Empire, the Alliance would collapse even faster!"
Caleb nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Rear Admiral Shedd is back from the Empire, so the higher-ups might give her the cold shoulder for now. But the moment the enemy’s Supreme Peculiars or Stellar Devourers attack in full force, they’ll come begging for her help."
"More than their prejudices, they fear the Alliance’s destruction," Caleb added. "The only question is, how long can they hold out?"
The group turned to head back to the base when a luxurious motorcade suddenly pulled up beside them.
As soon as they recognized the emblem on the vehicles, everyone instinctively turned to look at Aurelius.
From one of the leading vehicles, Royal Steward Raidor stepped down. Without sparing Aurelius—a former prince—even a glance, he walked straight to Lyra.
He bowed with impeccable elegance and respect. "Rear Admiral Shedd, His Majesty requests your presence."
Chapter 330: Aurelius’ Revenge
When Edmund summoned Lyra to the palace all those years ago, she had been powerless and had little choice but to comply.
Back then, under Edmund’s manipulations, rumors of an affair between her and Aurelius had spread.
But now? Lyra didn’t even bother to fake a smile. She simply tossed out two cold words—"No time"—and turned to leave.
Raidor’s carefully measured smile froze. Straightening up, he watched her retreating figure, stunned by her blatant disregard. Yet, what could he do? Nothing.
With the war raging, nobles suffered far more loss than commoners. They had no leverage over the government or the military; once the shock waves hit, they crumbled instantly, without time to recover.
The royal family fared even worse. While the government and military grew stronger, the powerless royals were little more than decorative mascots.
The Alliance didn’t need "gilded lilies" right now; it needed vital support in times of desperation.
While many struggled under skyrocketing costs, the royals and nobles still indulged in extravagant, wasteful lifestyles.
What had once been refined elegance had rotted into excess, fueling the growing calls to abolish both the monarchy and the nobility altogether.
Edmund had no choice but to turn to Lyra.
He assumed that since Lyra had tension with the military, she would accept his olive branch. But instead, she slapped him in the face metaphorically—she simply didn’t care.
After a wave of frustration, King Edmund calmed himself.
"Right now, no one can match Lyra except for that legendary powerhouse," he said, almost resigned. "She has earned the right to be proud."
With a sigh, he waved Raidor closer. "It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Aurelius. Summon him for dinner tonight."
Raidor hesitated, surprised. "He likely won’t want to come..."
After all, they had treated him that way back then.
But Edmund only smiled, confident and assured. "I know exactly what Aurelius longs for deep down. He will come back. Go."
...
Lyra was preparing to dine with the adjutant and regiment commanders of the Legion of Everglow when the royal convoy stopped in front of her once again.
This time, it wasn’t the palace steward who had ignored Aurelius before. That same steward now approached him with unusual, humble reverence. "Your Highness, His Majesty requests your presence."
Aurelius froze for a moment. This steward had always mirrored the king’s attitude—ignoring Aurelius as if he didn’t exist. Edmund disregarded him, and Raidor treated him like he was invisible.
This was the first time anyone from the palace had spoken to him with such humility.
They actually needed him.
Aurelius’ cold, shadowed face twisted into a slight, cruel smile. He wanted to see what expression his dear father would make as he came begging.
He couldn’t resist taking a step forward.
"Aurelius, today is Lyra’s first dinner since returning." Helion’s voice cut through the moment like ice, his gaze coldly fixed on Aurelius’ moving foot.
Aurelius turned to look at Lyra. "Ma’am, I’ve waited far too long for this day."
For this day—he had endured humiliation, betrayal, and pain. He had clawed his way up, obsessively driven, for this one moment: the palace coming to invite him back.
It was almost madness.
Lyra barely spared him a glance. "Suit yourself."
She didn’t care about one dinner.
Aurelius stepped into the royal convoy without hesitation. Seated in the car, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the back of Raidor’s head in the passenger seat.
It didn’t take long for him to guess Edmund’s intentions.
Thinking of the evidence he had gathered, a twisted, grim smile curled his lips.
In the palace, when Lucien learned that his father had invited Aurelius to dinner, he nearly lost his mind.
He stormed straight to the queen. "Why is Father bringing that filthy bastard back? He’ll dirty the palace carpets! Everything here—every leaf and stone—belongs to me! He’s too filthy, Mother!"
Lucien’s voice trembled with humiliation and rage, his words spilling out carelessly. The queen frowned slightly, her perfectly shaped brows knitting together.
"My dear child, you are the crown prince. You must show the dignity that befits your position."
She gently embraced her furious son and whispered soothingly, "What belongs to you, no one can take away."
Lucien growled through clenched teeth, "Filthy things should stay where they belong—like with the Legion of Everglow. They’re just a pack of thugs."
He couldn’t forget the humiliation of being dealt with by Lyra. Worst of all, when he returned to ask his father for justice, Edmund had scolded him instead.
His mother patted his back reassuringly. "Enough. Show your composure as the crown prince. We must attend the dinner now."
Lucien’s face twisted with disgust as he spat out his words. "Just thinking about sitting at the same table as that filth makes me want to vomit."
The queen listened indulgently to his complaints. As long as he refrained from foul language, she let him say what he pleased—after all, she shared the same opinion.
...
At dinner, Lucien could barely hide his contempt as he glared at Aurelius’ strikingly handsome face. He couldn’t resist a jab. "Dear brother, you’ve been away from the palace for so long. You must miss these delicacies."
"Not particularly," Aurelius replied calmly. Maintaining perfect royal etiquette, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin before setting down his utensils.
Then he turned his gaze to Lucien. "But you, Lucien, should cherish these meals while you can. After all, the plan to abolish the royalty is already on the table."
His words landed like a stone, and he relished the sight of their faces darkening.
Lucien immediately lost control. "Thousands of years ago, our ancestors led those commoners to establish the Alliance! Those commoners—what right do they—"
"Lucien!" Edmund cut him off sharply. He turned his weary gaze to Aurelius and let out a heavy sigh, looking older and more worn than ever.
"Aurelius, I know you hate me. But you cannot change the fact that you were born royal. If the monarchy falls, the honor you take pride in will vanish, too. I’m sorry for the past—I truly am. I will do whatever it takes to mend this, as long as you set aside your grievances and help us through this crisis."
For a king, such words—spoken so humbly—were already an enormous concession.
To Aurelius, it was music sweeter than anything in the world.
Before he could respond, the queen abruptly set down her fork, her voice sharp and haughty. "You’re the most exalted person in this world, Your Majesty. How can you lower your dignity like this? And for him?"
Her gaze flicked dismissively to Aurelius as she added, "For someone like him?"
Those words carried all her disdain.
Aurelius’ eyes gleamed coldly as his gaze swept over the queen and Lucien, who looked ready to explode. He sneered. "What’s the rush, Your Majesty? Are you afraid I’ll make unacceptable demands?"
Then his voice turned chillingly calm. "Fine. If you want me to set aside my grievances, it’s simple. Strip Lucien of his title as crown prince, and divorce the queen."
The fury on their faces was instantaneous. Even Edmund frowned deeply. "There has never been a precedent for an king’s divorce since the royal family was established."
"And there’s never been a crisis like the abolition of the nobility, either," Aurelius retorted with a cold laugh as he stood up. "That’s my condition. Farewell."
He turned and strode away without waiting for a response.
Raidor quickly led him toward the palace gardens, guiding him back outside. But before they got far, Lucien came storming after him. Without a word, Lucien swung a punch at him.
Aurelius’ eyes flashed with a dangerous light. He didn’t dodge. Instead, his hand snapped up, crackling with blue energy as he lashed out.
Lucien—two levels below Aurelius—was flung through the air and crashed onto the grass.
"You—you—"
"You’re about to say, ’How dare a bastard like me hit you,’ aren’t you?" Aurelius growled, his voice dripping with fury. Years of suppressed rage erupted all at once. He stormed forward and kicked Lucien hard, over and over.
"You beat me for over twenty years," Aurelius spat as he struck him. "And now you can’t handle a little payback?"