Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 236: Trusting None (2)

Chapter 236: Trusting None (2)

At the Calvin family’s castle in Central City, the tension hung thick in the air.

"Sir, you need to leave now!" The butler, Albert, bowed deeply as he urged Benedict.

The old man stood on the terrace of the ancient castle, his left hand gripping a cane and his right clutching an ornate signet ring. "Albert, how long has it been since our ancestors escaped there?"

"It’s been exactly four hundred and fifty years this year."

"Four hundred and fifty years." His gaze darkened as it fell on the distant mountains and waters of Elden Prime. "I would be the twenty-first of Varmoket if we had stayed with the Empire."

"Yes, sir." Albert’s eyes flickered anxiously toward the approaching Lev from the military. "Sir..."

"Call me ’Your Majesty!’" Benedict interrupted, his gaunt face twisting with anger as he glared at the incoming Lev.

With a swift motion, he produced a specialized sonic-blast gun, aiming it at the convoy surrounding the estate. He pulled the trigger, and the bullet exploded near the vehicles, the sound amplified by his superpower.

The shockwave hit like tons of explosives, shattering the Lev who hadn’t managed to defend themselves in time.

Benedict fired again, but this shot failed. A shimmering green energy shield enveloped the vehicles, forming an impenetrable bubble.

The door of one Lev swung open, and a dazzling light shield formed a staircase as a ghostly woman swiftly descended toward him.

It was Lyra.

From the rose bushes, laser guns emerged, locking onto her aerial figure as they unleashed a furious barrage of fire.

On the ground, cutting rays burst forth, weaving a net aimed at ensnaring her. The servants transformed into mercenaries, ready for the ambush.

But with Robin present, the Calvin family’s ace in the hole became transparent. The young man had already conjured storm clouds overhead.

Silver serpents of electricity crackled across the castle, disabling all equipment and halting the mercenaries in their tracks.

Lyra dove like a hawk toward the terrace of the estate.

Benedict fired three shots at her, but the explosive soundwaves were effortlessly blocked by her light shield.

With a soft thud, Lyra landed on the railing, clad in military uniform, her slender figure framed by dissipating storm clouds that echoed the tumult of the sky.

Benedict looked at her, a mix of pain and fury etched on his face. "Lyra, must you really confront me, your grandfather, to the death?"

"I don’t remember us ever being on the same side," Lyra replied, transforming her weapon into a long sword. "We’ve just been using each other, haven’t we?"

The Calvin family aimed to draw her into their ranks, hoping to leverage her power for negotiations with the military. On the flip side, she needed their help to infiltrate the military’s inner circle.

In truth, the Calvin family had their sights set on her, hoping she would align with the Stellar Devourers.

Benedict’s feigned concern melted away, replaced by dark disdain. "So, when did you start doubting me?"

"From the very beginning, I never trusted you," Lyra declared, looking down at him from her elevated position. "There are two major flaws in your plan. First, fifteen years ago, when I was at my lowest, you didn’t lift a finger to help."

Back then, she had assumed the Calvin family was simply indifferent. Now it was clear they had been waiting for her to cut ties with the Shedd family.

"Second," she continued, her voice firm, "when I returned to the Calvin family, you never once asked about my freezing power."

This was her biggest concern. Upon her return, she had already regained her ability to freeze, yet before that, she had only possessed healing abilities. Benedict’s avoidance of the topic suggested either a lack of interest or a troubling awareness of her powers.

The lingering superpower particles from Isadora at Doctor Brian’s assassination site only deepened her suspicion.

In that moment, Benedict realized he had become nothing more than a clown in her eyes, stripped of his facade, his act utterly ridiculous.

"I once thought you could shoulder Seren’s unfinished responsibilities. Instead, you betray your own bloodline, betray your mission!"

"Indeed, the blood of the Shedd family is too tainted. All that effort wasted," she shot back.

He struck his cane against the ground, and suddenly, the entire estate resonated with the sounds of a symphonic orchestra.

"This is the royal march of the Varmoket family, a fitting requiem for you worthless lot!" he proclaimed, as if bestowing upon them a twisted honor.

The music swelled, painting grand images of opulent palaces adorned in gold and luxury. Yet, no one dared to revel in such beauty.

As Benedict activated his superpower, the picturesque castle began to collapse, drowning in the chaos of the music. People, flowers, and aspirations were buried under the rubble.

The soundwaves surged like a tidal wave, crashing with immense force. Lyra dropped her light shield, locking eyes with the butler, Albert, who stood firm before her.

"You can’t match me; give up the fight," she challenged.

The old butler held his ground, hand pressed against his chest. "My ancestors have always served the Varmoket family, even when the Empire cast them aside and propped up that puppet constitutional royal family."

"I grew up serving the master, and my loyalty is engraved in my bones."

Isadora was trapped by her bloodline, and Albert was shackled by a lifetime of indoctrination and servitude. Both had sacrificed everything for the elusive dream of revival.

As Isadora escaped, Albert fell to Lyra’s blade. In his final moments, he lost the dignity of his position, clad in a tattered tailcoat, his hair in disarray, desperately clutching at her leg, hoping for Benedict’s escape.

Lyra kicked him aside, and as he tumbled against the railing, he looked up through the intricately carved balusters, pondering what the Empire’s royal family had been like four hundred and fifty years ago.

But he couldn’t envision it; it was all just an illusion.

Benedict, driving the Lev, shouted at the screen displaying Westros, "Come and get me!"

Westros floated in an endless void, surrounded by a suffocating nothingness.

"Who do you think you’re talking to?" he sneered, dripping with disdain for human hierarchy. To him, royalty and commoners were mere trifles—insignificant as ants to a planet. It didn’t matter if they were nobles or soldiers; with a single flick of his finger, he could crush them all.

As he felt the rush of wind behind him, Benedict gritted his teeth and shouted, "Please, save me!"

"Let me recover first," came the cold, detached reply.

With that, the entire scene darkened, draining Benedict of his power. The void swallowed both light and sound, leaving Benedict feeling utterly helpless.

Suddenly, the Lev plummeted downward. A chilling blade pierced through the vehicle’s roof!

Lyra had been ready to halt the Lev when a shiver raced down her spine, forcing her to leap off just in time.

Countless spikes shot out in every direction, and she quickly transformed her Schedar into a shield.

To her shock, the once-invulnerable Schedar shattered under the onslaught.

Lyra leaned back, narrowly evading the attack. She watched as the spikes flew past her, then curved back, regrouping around Benedict.

They formed into a silvery sphere, speckled with black and gold.

"Your mother loved you so much," Benedict remarked, his tone dripping with mockery. "She even left you that half-finished piece of work."