Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 76: Therry’s Losing

Chapter 76: Therry’s Losing

No one saw it coming—the semifinals of the individual mecha tournament boiled down to a showdown between just EPMA and NMA.

In previous years, you’d always have some other military academies or maybe even popular streamers from the Alliance in the mix. But this time around, all of them were completely overshadowed by freshmen from these two schools.

It seemed pretty clear who was going to walk away with the championship, so the buzz online quickly shifted to who might snag second place.

Some were rooting for Thierry, others thought Caleb had a shot. The one who got the least support was Lyra. Compared to the other three, her performance was seen as pretty average.

"If Lyra wasn’t good-looking, who’d even pay attention to her?"

"That’s a joke, right? She made it to the top four of the tournament, and you’re saying no one notices her?"

"Get real. She only uses a humanoid mecha and sticks to the most basic moves. How good could she possibly be? She’s nowhere near Robin Calvin’s level. Caleb could take her down easily!"

"Dude, you clearly didn’t catch last week’s stream. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be saying that."

...

While the internet was busy debating, the competitors were getting ready to hit the stage, calm as ever.

The semifinals meant one-on-one matches.

First up: Thierry versus Robin.

Zinnia, jittery as ever, looked like she was about to jump in and steer Thierry herself. As the countdown began, she turned to Lyra and Cohen, asking, "Do you guys think Thierry has a shot?"

Lyra glanced at the screen, watching the two getting set for battle. "Unless he takes control early, he doesn’t stand a chance."

"He’s likely to lose," Cohen added, sounding like he’d already made peace with it. "Thierry’s psychokinesis is weaker."

In online mecha battles, superpowers are off-limits. The only edge competitors have is their psychokinesis, which keeps their focus and reaction time sharp.

"Are we really just going to let EPMA run away with this?" Zinnia, usually so tough, clung to Lyra, overdramatically wailing, "Lyra, you’re NMA’s only hope! I’m not letting you lose!"

Normally, Lyra would push her away, but today she gently patted Zinnia’s head. "Mm."

"Wow! You’re really fired up today. I’ve never seen you this motivated!"

Cohen had to stifle a laugh.

Zinnia had no idea how much Lyra had put into this.

"By the way, Lyra, why do I always feel like you’re holding back?" Zinnia scrolled through some data. "That’s why your odds are way higher than Thierry’s."

"That’s exactly what I want." Lyra had a rare glint in her eye.

She wanted those long odds.

Cohen discreetly stepped a little farther away, worried he might roll his eyes—something that wouldn’t look great for someone of his rank.

The match kicked off, just as Lyra and Cohen predicted.

Robin was quicker off the mark, launching a missile that immediately put him in control.

No matter how hard Thierry fought back, he couldn’t turn the tide.

In a clash at this level, a one-second delay in charging up an attack could mean victory or defeat, and any slight hesitation would get you pinned down.

Robin’s strikes were fast and precise, giving Thierry no breathing room.

Twenty minutes later, after taking another hit from an railgun, Thierry’s already battered mecha was finally done for.

He lost.

Even though they’d expected it, Zinnia still slammed the railing in frustration. "Ugh! So frustrating!"

Lyra gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "Don’t worry, Thierry can still go for third place."

What was meant to be comforting only drew some mocking laughter.

"Oh, how humble. You know the championship’s out of reach, so you’re aiming for third place instead. Guess that’s the best NMA can do, huh?"

Zinnia spun around, recognizing an old rival. She was instantly ready to pounce like a leopard. "You looking for a fight or a duel?"

Lyra pulled Zinnia back, whispering, "Thierry’s back."

They still had the team competition semifinals the next day, so getting disqualified over a fight wasn’t an option.

Plus, in reality, with Planet Nagano and Elden Prime were a star system away from each other, a real fight was out of the question anyway.

"Acting all tough, huh? Is everyone at NMA just a bunch of cowards?" Grains kept pushing, his taunts relentless.

Before he could go any further, an arm looped around his neck from behind, and a voice, dripping with menace, hissed in his ear, "Feeling brave today? How about a match with me? Didn’t get enough of a beating last time?"

It was Helion.

Grains had already been knocked out of the tournament by him. The match had dragged on for a while, but a loss was a loss.

Grains’ arrogance evaporated instantly. Helion had nothing left to lose—he was already out of both the individual and team competitions, so he wasn’t bound by any rules. No point in tangling with him.

"Let go of me!" Grains shook off Helion’s arm, then tried to save face by straightening his clothes. "Barbarian."

"What’s the matter? All talk, no action? You wanna settle this offline?" Helion’s challenge came with a smirk.

Grains bristled, flaring up like a cat that had just been stepped on. "You think I’m scared of you? Bring it on!"

Even if his mecha skills weren’t top-notch, he wasn’t about to back down from a real fight.

Just as he was about to set a time for their showdown, a cold voice cut through the tension, freezing him in his tracks. "Grains, what are you up to now?"

Grains immediately straightened up, trying to mask his earlier bravado. "Robin, congratulations on winning another match."

Robin nodded toward Thierry and Cohen, his gaze briefly landing on Caleb’s next opponent—Lyra, who was shorter than his chest and occasionally coughed. Something about her seemed off, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Before Caleb headed to the stage, Robin gave him a rare piece of advice, "Take this seriously."

"I understand." Caleb adjusted his glasses with long, elegant fingers. "For someone like Lyra to top NMA’s first-year ranks with such a frail body, she must have something special."

Moreover, after poring over Lyra’s match data, Caleb had uncovered something unsettling. Although her match durations varied, when he lined up her opponents’ stats against those durations, he found a pattern that was shockingly consistent.

In other words, Lyra had been controlling the length of her matches with precision.

Before their match began, Caleb sent her a message: ’Miss Shedd, I hope you take our match seriously.’

There was no reply.

When the match began, Caleb opted for a lightweight humanoid mecha, equipped with an railgun, a large sword, and a shield—his setup reflecting his cautious and methodical approach. High-speed, high-attack was his game.

...

As soon as the countdown ended, Caleb fired his railgun, only to see Lyra doing the exact same thing.

She had chosen the same weapon.

Their electromagnetic blasts collided perfectly in mid-air, and then something unbelievable happened—Caleb’s blast not only neutralized Lyra’s but also kept going, surging toward her with power to spare!

Everyone knew that the mecha stats in this competition were standardized, meaning the power and cooldown times of their railguns should have been identical.

"How is this possible?" The streamer, playing up the drama, feigned shock.

"Could it be because Lyra fired second?"

"But their cooldown times are exactly the same. Even if they weren’t, how could one overpower the other?"

Then someone chimed in with a theory that sent the discussion boards into a frenzy: "What’s so surprising? The organizers must’ve tampered with the data!"