Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 202: Running Away

Chapter 202: Running Away

"Can you believe these people? The military court already handed down its ruling, yet they’re still whining for more. Don’t they have lives to live?"

"Seriously, what more do they want? The evidence was right there, and justice was served. They paid compensation, the guilty were executed—what else are they looking for?"

As Lyra observed the online conversation being skillfully redirected, she gestured to her tech team to ease off. "We don’t need to keep pushing," she said calmly. There was no need to maintain the pressure any longer.

But while Lyra remained composed, Norman was a bundle of nerves.

"So, uh... what’s the next step, Ensign? What’s the plan now?"

His voice was laced with desperation. After all, Lyra had just publicly humiliated some of the most powerful military figures in the Alliance. Surely there had to be some kind of follow-up, right?

Lyra’s response was icy, almost indifferent. "I’m just a lowly Ensign, following orders," she said, her eyes glinting slightly before she added, "Oh, and SIR, don’t forget—the Alliance Assembly is coming up soon."

"...Huh?" Norman blinked, completely lost as she and her team walked out the door, leaving him hanging with more questions than answers.

In reality, Lyra was leveraging her noble status, positioning herself in the ongoing power struggle.

It may have looked like she was winning lately, but her victories were circumstantial.

The two Admirals, bound by strict military law, couldn’t just leave their posts to take her down without proper clearance.

Admirals Dale and Vince had been on Eden Prime to attend the ceremony honoring the Rose just a few days ago, so there’s no way they’d be back again now.

However, Lyra knew all too well that once they had the time and freedom to act, they’d come for her with full force.

That’s why she needed the backing of the old nobility to shield her just a little longer.

In the days that followed, Lyra doubled down, unearthing even more dirt on military officers and their families—particularly those loyal to Admirals Dale and Vince.

Scandal after scandal surfaced, causing another massive wave of public fury to wash over the Alliance. Each new revelation chipped away at the military’s already crumbling reputation.

In the past, the military elites might have been able to stomp out this kind of uproar. But now, they were up against the noble families—though weakened over the years, they still wielded considerable influence.

And unlike ordinary citizens, these nobles couldn’t be silenced through threats or violence. Assassinations and intimidation wouldn’t work on them.

With the once-in-a-decade Alliance Assembly looming, military leaders found themselves shackled, forced to rein in their own factions.

They had no choice but to hold their anger, unable to act openly. They seethed in silence, wishing they could crush Lyra underfoot, but for now, all they could do was bide their time.

Watching the chaos unfold, Ansel smirked. When his adjutant gave him the latest reports on the Admirals’ frustrations, he chuckled to himself. "She’s young and reckless. She’ll regret it soon enough."

The Admirals had spent decades, even centuries, mastering the art of military power plays. Their influence ran deep, with loyalists embedded at every level.

Yet here was Lyra, audaciously leading a ragtag group of nobles in direct opposition, like she had nothing to fear.

’But when the fall comes,’ Ansel thought, ’she won’t even see it coming.’

Meanwhile, the nobles were basking in their newfound public support, but they knew the reprisal was inevitable.

As the Alliance Assembly neared, officials, military leaders, and royal families began making their way back to Elden Prime, the capital star—including the two looming threats: Admirals Dale and Vince.

Sensing the storm on the horizon, Lyra swiftly submitted a request for leave.

"You’re asking for leave NOW? With everything falling apart?" Norman stared at her in disbelief.

He knew exactly how valuable Lyra was—she was the perfect tool, the one person who could tackle every tough situation they threw her way. And now, when the chaos was at its peak, she wanted to bail?

Her response was blunt, almost chilling. "If you don’t want me dead, SIR, you’ll approve my leave."

Lyra had no illusions about what was coming. The second those two level-nine Admirals returned, they’d be gunning for her. So her strategy was simple—disappear before they had the chance to act.

Realizing just how deep the danger ran, Norman didn’t hesitate. He approved her leave on the spot, the seriousness of her words sinking in.

And so, with little more than a nod of thanks, Lyra packed her things and fled for the Calvin family castle, leaving behind the chaos she’d helped ignite.

As soon as Albert spotted Lyra, his face lit up with a broad smile. "His Lordship was just wondering when you would return, My Lady."

Without missing a beat, Lyra handed her coat to a waiting maid. "I’ll be on leave until the Alliance Assembly wraps up."

Upon hearing this, Benedict wasted no time. He summoned a maid to help Lyra change into something more comfortable, then invited her to join him in the garden for a moment of relaxation.

"You’ve been busy lately. Are you feeling worn out?" he asked, his voice warm and soothing, perfectly matching his refined demeanor.

He gestured for the maid to pour tea, then personally offered Lyra a delicate pastry from the tray before them.

"I’m not tired. It’s just been a few minor matters," Lyra said, eyeing the pastry before taking a tiny, almost reluctant, bite.

As they sat in the tranquil garden, a soft breeze picked up, sending pale pink and white rose petals floating gently through the air.

Some settled in Lyra’s hair, enhancing the serene beauty of the scene as the evening light bathed the garden in a golden glow.

Benedict’s gaze softened as he watched her. "If only you smiled more, you’d look just like your mother," he mused quietly, brushing a stray petal from her hair with a nostalgic smile that hinted at a deeper sorrow.

Lyra remained silent, her expression unchanged, and sensing that she wouldn’t engage, Benedict smoothly shifted the conversation. "Several old friends have been inquiring about you. They’ve expressed interest in inviting you to some of their gatherings."

Lyra’s recent bold actions had caught the attention of the noble circles, and her popularity had skyrocketed as a result.

"With all the goodwill directed toward the nobility lately, even the stocks of the Laberry family business have soared."

In this era, nobility wasn’t about land or titles anymore. With most territories under military control, the nobles had pivoted to business, though their ventures often faced roadblocks from the military’s overwhelming influence.

It wasn’t until Lyra met the Calvin family that she fully grasped the depth of this power struggle.

"I’m not interested in parties, Grandpa. Kindly decline on my behalf," Lyra said flatly, making her disinterest clear.

As their conversation continued, a Lev adorned with a golden crest quietly pulled up to the fountain outside the garden.

Lyra’s gaze shifted, recognizing the young man stepping out in elegant, silver-gray noble attire. He seemed familiar.

The young man walked around the car with smooth grace. Then he opened the door for his companion, Isadora, who accepted his hand as she stepped out.

"Thank you, my dear Second Prince," Isadora said sweetly.

The young man was Prince Lucien.

With Isadora by his side, Lucien exuded charm and elegance—a stark contrast to the brawling prince who had once fought his brother at AMAT.

His smile was poised and polished. "It’s an honor to accompany you, My Lady. And for tomorrow’s banquet, I’d be privileged to be your escort."

Isadora’s eyes sparkled with delight as she nodded shyly. "Of course, it would be my pleasure."

Lucien’s gaze drifted toward the pavilion, where Benedict and Lyra were seated. "Since we’re here, I should pay my respects to the Marquis."

Isadora’s smile faltered momentarily, but she quickly recovered. "Let’s go together, then," she said, linking arms with Lucien as they made their way over.

Benedict stood as they approached, offering a respectful half-bow, with Lyra gracefully following suit, lightly holding the hem of her simple, cream-colored lace gown.

In that moment, she looked as pretty as the roses surrounding her.

Lucien had only seen her fierce, battle-hardened side in the competition arena. Now, seeing her in such an ethereal light, he found himself momentarily stunned.

"Your Highness, would you care to join us?" Benedict asked, gesturing to an open seat.

"I’d be honored," Lucien replied smoothly.

He moved to sit next to Lyra, but Isadora quickly slipped into the spot between them.

Lucien, unfazed, circled around to take the seat on Lyra’s other side instead.

Lyra took a small sip of her tea, casting a brief glance in his direction. Then, she stood up with quiet grace. "Pardon me, but I have other matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave."

"Wait!" Lucien called after her quickly. "My mother is hosting a banquet tomorrow evening. Would you honor us with her presence?"