Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 205: Smashing the Challenger

Chapter 205: Smashing the Challenger

The trio wandered into the garden, their strides easy, matching the laid-back vibe of their reunion.

Zinnia, eyeing her friend with curiosity, started circling Lyra like a playful predator. Then, without warning, she reached out and gave her friend’s chest a cheeky squeeze.

"Hmm, still flat as ever," she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

Lyra looked down at herself, completely unbothered. "Well, it’s not like I can make them grow."

Body issues? Yeah, she couldn’t care less about that.

Not far off, Thierry’s face flushed bright red. "Uh, hello? I’m standing right here! Could y’all maybe turn it down a bit?"

Both girls turned to him in perfect sync, amusement glinting in their eyes. Thierry, for the umpteenth time, was reminded that these two were far from your typical girls.

"Oh yeah, speaking of trouble, Lyra," Zinnia said, slinging an arm over her friend’s shoulder with a mischievous grin. "Word’s been traveling fast. Heard all about your little escapades, even up in Snowfall."

Thierry opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp, mocking laugh echoed from behind them.

"Troublemaker? That’s an understatement! You wrecked my brother’s crew, Lyra."

Strutting toward them was a guy decked out in a sharp military uniform, backed by a gang of equally smug-looking goons. Their eyes locked on Lyra with venomous glares.

The leader strolled forward, making a big show of it, before nodding to a pudgy guy next to him.

With a flick of the chubby guy’s wrist, a shimmering "Aegis Shield" snapped into place, encasing the majority of the garden. A serious defensive superpower—definitely not something to mess with.

The carefree vibe between Thierry, Zinnia, and Lyra disappeared instantly. This wasn’t just a run-of-the-mill confrontation. These guys were packing heat—two level-sevens at least. Serious business.

The guy in charge? Eddie Dale. And just hearing that last name was enough to know they were in for a rough ride.

Eddie sneered, stepping closer to Lyra. "Don’t go whining about us ganging up on you. You’re the one causing chaos all over the place."

Zinnia’s playful demeanor vanished. "Lyra, they’re clearly here for you. You need to leave."

"Yeah, no kidding," Thierry added, already trying to send out a distress signal. His face darkened when he saw it wasn’t going through.

"Whyte boy," Eddie’s voice dripped with disdain as he stared down Zinnia and Thierry. "This doesn’t concern you two. Stay out of it."

Before they could respond, another barrier shot up around them, locking them away from the looming fight.

Zinnia and Thierry were trapped, powerless to intervene. They couldn’t risk involving anyone else either.

"Damn it! Let us out!" Zinnia roared, slamming her glowing, armored fist against the barrier, but it didn’t budge.

Lyra held up a hand to calm them. "No, stay out of it. I’ll handle this."

Eddie let out a dark chuckle. "How very heroic of you."

With a lazy wave, his crew activated their powers, energy crackling as they readied for the attack. But before they could even think about launching their assault, a dazzling light exploded within the shield, brighter than the stars overhead.

Lyra was at the center of it all, her slender fingers, painted with cold pink polish, tracing graceful, intricate designs in the air. The light scattered, flickering like wild fireflies, weaving erratically through Eddie’s crew.

What followed was chaos. Agonizing screams shattered the stillness of the night as Eddie’s gang dropped like flies.

Soldiers who had strutted in with cocky grins now squirmed and thrashed helplessly on the ground, their once-pristine uniforms caked with dirt.

In minutes, they went from proud fighters to groaning, pathetic wrecks, unrecognizable from the arrogant bunch they had been just moments earlier.

Zinnia crouched by the barrier, peeking at the defeated crew with a raised eyebrow. "Sheesh, that was... vicious."

Not a single scratch or visible wound, yet Eddie and his gang lay there, like they’d been through hell and back.

"No wonder Lyra wanted us to sit this one out," Thierry muttered, shaking his head.

Suddenly, a furious shout tore through the tense silence. "What in the world is happening here?!"

Admiral Dale stormed in from the hallway, face twisted with rage.

The once-mellow garden now buzzed with onlookers who had poured in from the nearby banquet hall, wide-eyed and whispering at the sight of Eddie sprawled on the ground.

The Admiral’s fury exploded when he spotted his son among the defeated. "Lyra! How dare you?!"

With a roar, he unleashed a massive dragon of fire, roaring through the air, aiming directly for her.

It wasn’t even close to his full power, but it would’ve been more than enough to hurt her badly—if it weren’t for the barrier, which absorbed the hit effortlessly.

It was only then that everyone truly noticed the translucent barrier encasing the garden.

With Thierry and Zinnia trapped inside and the chaotic scene laid out before them, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened—those who had come to provoke a fight were the ones who got demolished.

"Macro, you fool! Why is the barrier still up?!" Admiral Vince barked, snapping the chubby young man from his shocked stupor. Trembling, Macro fumbled to deactivate the shield.

"Hey, don’t forget us!" Zinnia shouted, landing a solid kick on the barrier.

Scrambling in a panic, Macro hurriedly dropped the shield around her and Thierry as well.

But by then, the damage was done—Frederick had arrived.

He had stepped into the garden just in time to see his nephew, Thierry, trapped in that barrier.

Frederick radiated an icy authority, his mere presence enough to hush the crowd instantly.

"Macro Vince, Lieutenant Commander," Frederick’s tone could freeze oceans, "you’d better have a very good explanation for this."

Poor Macro was trembling so violently he could barely form words.

The plan had been simple: deal with Lyra, and even if Thierry raised complaints, the backing of two Admirals would protect them from any serious fallout. But no one expected things to unravel this spectacularly—or get caught in such an obvious trap.

Zarek, standing beside the Admiral, was visibly fuming. His chest rose and fell with suppressed rage as he shot daggers at the two Admirals.

Vince, clearly sweating, forced an unconvincing smile. "This is all just a simple misunderstanding..."

Admiral Dale, not missing a beat, pointed at the wreckage and the battered crew. "All this destruction? Caused by Lyra. I was just about to question her."

The crowd fell into a stunned silence at the sheer gall of his words.

That’s when Lyra chuckled softly, locking eyes with Admiral Dale, her gaze defiant. "If you’re so keen on interrogating me, maybe we should review the security footage first. For a man of your rank and age, Admiral Dale, you sure spin some bold lies."

The crowd sucked in a collective breath. Lyra’s boldness had everyone, including Dale, momentarily speechless.

Then a burst of laughter rang out, cutting through the tension. Valeria, casually leaning against a pillar, was laughing so hard she had to clutch her side. "Ha! Well said, girl!"

She ignored Dale’s growing fury and sauntered into the garden, her eyes sweeping over the crumpled bodies on the ground. "Tsk, tsk. Look at this sad mess. The youngest one here’s gotta be at least forty-five, and they’re out here ganging up on someone half their age. Who raised you lot?"

She didn’t need to call out the two Admirals by name; every word hit like a slap across their faces.

"Valeria, you old hag! This isn’t any of your business!" Admiral Dale snarled, his face turning an ugly shade of red.

"Oh, it’s definitely my business," Valeria shot back, her arm sliding around Lyra’s shoulders. "This young lady clearly doesn’t have much in the way of support. Am I not allowed to step in and make sure things are fair?"

Ansel, lurking in the crowd, cringed inwardly. Valeria had a way of cutting straight to the bone, and this time, she was spot-on.

By this point, Benedict had already escorted King Edmund into the garden to address the fiasco.

"What on earth is happening here?!" boomed Edmund, his voice dripping with authority and barely concealed anger.

Edmund was livid. The banquet he’d hosted had devolved into a full-blown military mess, right in the heart of his palace. This wasn’t just embarrassing—it was a disgrace.

Frederick shot a look at Benedict, who stood next to Edmund, his usual sly grin in place. That old fox had timed things perfectly.

The situation was spiraling fast, and the last thing the military needed was for this to blow up in front of so many nobles and officials.

"Your Majesty, this is just a minor misunderstanding between the younger generation. We’ll sort it out after the banquet—" Frederick began.

But Edmund wasn’t having any of it. He raised a hand, silencing Frederick instantly. "Since it happened in my palace, I will deal with it. Raidor, bring up the security footage!"

And just like that, the Admirals were caught flat-footed.

Raidor, ever efficient, quickly tapped into the surveillance system using his opticomputer, projecting the footage onto a large screen for the entire crowd to see.

At first, the nobles chuckled as the video showed Zinnia’s playful chest grab and Lyra’s unbothered response.

Zarek, embarrassed, slapped a hand to his face—his sister’s antics never failed to cause a scene.

But as the footage continued, and Lyra’s true power unfolded, the atmosphere took a sharp turn.

The laughter died, replaced with stunned silence.

Even among the nobles—many of whom possessed significant powers—there was a collective intake of breath as Lyra’s overwhelming display left them speechless.

She hadn’t just defended herself; she had CRUSHED her attackers with terrifying ease.

The video left no room for interpretation. What they’d witnessed was raw power, complete domination, and it was clear that Lyra had been the one provoked.

No one could deny it now.