Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 204: The Banquet

Chapter 204: The Banquet

In a world where everything and everyone could be used as a bargaining chip, not even bodies or marriages were sacred.

Yet to Lyra, such things held little value.

Beautiful bodies were a dime a dozen, easily replaceable. And the most dangerous enemies were often disguised as friends, partners, hiding in plain sight.

To her, the only way to operate at full strength was to steer clear of emotional entanglements—intimacy was just another set of chains, ones she refused to wear.

...

When Lyra and Aurelius walked into the banquet hall, the shimmering crystal chandeliers overhead bathed the room in warm light, illuminating clusters of well-dressed guests engaged in hushed conversation.

The space was filled with stunning people, but Lyra didn’t stand out as the most glamorous. Still, the moment someone called her name, the uniformed soldiers scattered throughout the crowd turned their heads, all eyes now fixed on her.

It was clear her reputation had spread throughout the military.

Before she could fully take in the room, a sharp wave of psychokinesis came crashing toward her, slicing through the air like a blade.

Lyra’s eyes narrowed for just a split second as she met the attack with her own force, the two unseen powers colliding midair with enough tension to ripple through the crowd.

Drinks spilled, and conversations faltered, as the invisible clash sent tremors of unease across the room.

Among the startled crowd, Admiral Dale stumbled, his expression barely hiding the shock behind his tired eyes. ’How can a woman so young possess such overwhelming power?’

"Admiral Dale, are you alright?" Admiral Vince, a stout man with a face to match, quickly grabbed his arm to steady him.

Vince glanced at Lyra, who stood unfazed in the middle of the room. He couldn’t help admiring her strength. "She’s something else, isn’t she?"

But Dale, still stung by his loss of composure, scowled. "Hmph, we can’t let her continue to run amok in the military."

Though clearly shaken, Dale was too seasoned and proud to start a confrontation with Lyra in such a public, formal setting.

A little ways off, Frederick observed the situation with amusement. "Cohen, your friend’s quite the firecracker," he said with a smirk.

Cohen, visibly flustered, tore his gaze away from Lyra. "She’s always been like that," he mumbled. She never retreated out of fear, only when there was something to gain or when the odds weren’t worth the fight.

"Why don’t you invite her to join us?" Frederick suggested, catching Cohen off guard.

His father wasn’t known for offering olive branches, and this sudden change in attitude was unexpected.

Cohen glanced over at the two Admirals nearby, both of whom looked like they’d happily tear Lyra apart if given the chance.

"Sure," Cohen said hesitantly. Then he headed over to Lyra, who was standing by the champagne stand, drawing more attention than she probably intended.

All eyes followed Cohen, the Admiral’s son, as he walked through the crowd and approached Lyra.

After a quick exchange, the two returned together, making their way toward Admiral Frederick Whyte.

Admirals Dale and Vince immediately stiffened, realizing they had crossed a line.

Both the military and the royal family wouldn’t tolerate any kind of scandal breaking out during the banquet.

"Hmph," Dale grumbled under his breath, deciding to drop the issue for now.

Meanwhile, not far from them, Isadora sat surrounded by a group of young noblemen, all competing for her attention.

Her fingers tightened around her feather fan as she watched Cohen escort Lyra through the crowd, jealousy burning beneath her polished smile.

One of the men beside her leaned closer, his voice dripping with charm, "Isadora, you’re absolutely stunning tonight. How about a date tomorrow?"

Another chimed in eagerly, "Kuro, you wish! My Lady, come surfing with me instead!"

A third quickly jumped in, "No, no, it should be me who takes Isadora out!"

Isadora giggled behind her fan, her shoulders shaking lightly as she relished in their flattery. "Sorry, boys, but I’ve already promised His Highness I’d be joining him tomorrow," she teased, her voice laced with playfulness.

The men groaned in disappointment. They knew all too well that Isadora, as one of the most sought-after socialites in noble circles, was always juggling a full calendar of dates and outings.

As Lyra neared the seating area, she prepared to salute out of respect. But before she could do so, a woman in a crisp white military uniform waved her off with a flick of her hand.

"There’s no need to be so formal when you’re dressed this beautifully," the woman said with a grin. "If you keep that up, none of the men here will ever dare approach you."

The woman, thin but not frail, had deep crow’s feet and laugh lines that added character to her sharp features.

She sat with one leg crossed elegantly over the other, a glass of red wine in hand, her other arm draped casually over the back of the sofa.

Her smile was warm but mischievous, like someone who had seen it all and wasn’t afraid to play along.

This was Valeria, the only female Admiral, a woman who had carved out her own legend in the military world.

Lyra, however, shook her head lightly. "Courtesy must not be neglected."

She saluted Frederick, then turned and saluted Valeria as well. Frederick gave a slight nod. "Have a seat," he said.

Valeria, on the other hand, couldn’t help but purse her lips. "After all the bold things you’ve done, I thought you’d be more interesting. Turns out, you’re even more stiff than I am, and I’m an old woman!"

The things Lyra had done recently had nearly driven Admiral Dale and Admiral Vince to madness. Even Cohen felt a bit embarrassed for her.

But Lyra remained calm, composed even in the presence of high-ranking admirals. There was no sign of nervousness, nor did she make any attempt at small talk.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, breaking the silence. "Uncle Fred, Grandma Valeria, I’m late!"

A young man in a military uniform appeared, flashing a wide grin that revealed his bright, almost goofy smile. "My dad said the banquet was boring, so he decided not to come."

Valeria smiled with amusement but shot him a sharp look. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t call me Grandma!"

"Well... how about Admiral Valeria?" he suggested, eyes twinkling.

At this, Valeria almost fell back, waving him off with annoyance. "Get out of here, you brat! Just looking at you makes me tired."

Thierry wasn’t truly as dim-witted as he appeared. He plopped down next to Valeria, grabbing a glass of wine.

Just as he was about to take a sip, he noticed the young woman sitting next to Cohen, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Who on earth dares to cozy up to Cohen?" he thought, his brows furrowing in confusion.

After a second glance, he squinted, finally recognizing her. "Wait a second... you look familiar."

He took a sip of his drink, only to spray it out in shock.

Cohen burst into laughter beside him.

"Thierry, yes, it’s me," Lyra said calmly.

Thierry, now bright red, scrambled to wipe his face with a handkerchief.

Valeria wasn’t so lucky—she was caught in the spray, shoving him away with a laugh. "Ugh, you disgusting kid!"

But Lyra had noticed something else. In the instant before the wine splattered everywhere, an invisible barrier of air had formed in front of her, deflecting the liquid. ’A level-nine Peculiar’, she thought, recognizing the control of air.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Thierry coughed, still rubbing his face. "You look so stunning today, I didn’t even recognize you."

He glanced at her again, eyes sparkling with admiration. "Really, you look amazing," he added, chuckling.

Then, clapping his hands as if he suddenly remembered something, he said, "Oh right! Zinnia was supposed to come with her brother Zarek today. Let me check if they’ve arrived."

The royal family traditionally held grand banquets before each Alliance Assembly, inviting not just nobles, but also distinguished military officers and government officials.

Zarek, known for his contributions on Wyrmtrace, had recently been gaining attention and was among those invited.

Not long after Thierry sent the message, Zinnia arrived, dragging her brother behind her. "Haha! I knew you’d be here!" she called out, beaming.

As soon as Zarek spotted the admirals and high-ranking officers seated around the table, his scalp tingled with anxiety.

Tugging on his sister’s arm, he whispered, "Zinnia, we’re in the presence of the admirals. Show some restraint."

Valeria, seeing his discomfort, waved dismissively. "Enough of these formalities. It’s just a banquet, no need for all the bowing and scraping."

The constant salutes and greetings from junior officers had worn her out, leaving her neck stiff from nodding all evening.

"Exactly!" Zinnia chimed in, always quick with flattery. As she sat down, she couldn’t resist adding, "Admiral Valeria, you really are the most enlightened leader!"

"Oh, stop it, you cheeky girl," Valeria laughed, clearly amused.

"Not at all! You’re as charming as ever!" Zinnia winked playfully.

Zarek was cringing so hard, he feared he might tear through his boots. His sister’s carefree flattery made him want to sink into the floor.

But Zinnia, utterly unbothered, quickly turned her attention to Lyra, pulling her to her feet.

"Alright, Admirals, we’re off to have some fun. Bye-bye!" she announced with a mischievous smile, giving Thierry a meaningful glance as she left.

Thierry grinned. "Looks like I’m heading out too!"

Valeria, fond of the young woman’s boldness, smiled warmly at them. "Go on then, enjoy yourselves, kids."

With that, the three young people made their way out, leaving Zarek behind, frozen in place, staring at the admirals.

He wanted to run after them, but it was too late.

Thankfully, Cohen, sensing his unease, stepped in. "Admirals, we should go mingle with our colleagues."

The words were a lifeline, and Zarek wasted no time in following Cohen’s lead, bowing slightly to the admirals before quickly trailing after him.