Chapter 326: Starting with Lyra
Cohen strode forward.
Lyra’s eyes, as always, held a distant indifference, forcing Cohen’s almost outstretched hands to clench tightly in restraint.
’How have you been all these years? Were you hurt? How did you co back?’—A thousand questions swirled in his mind, but in the end, he only saluted and said, "Rear Admiral Shedd, welco back."
Lyra showed no sign of emotion as she returned the salute. "It’s good to see you again, Vice Admiral Whyte."
In the brief silence that followed, the three years of separation created a chasm of unfamiliarity between them.
"How did you end up in the Empire?" Cohen asked.
Lyra replied calmly, "We drifted through space for three years. Not long ago, we finally found a human settlent and happened to encounter Lieutenant Scarvici."
Cohen glanced at Scarvici, who nodded hurriedly, confirming Lyra’s words.
He had already done his research the mont he recognized Lyra. Quietly, he had looked into her history and confird that Rear Admiral Shedd had not defected to the Empire. Only then did he feel secure enough to speak to her directly.
Cohen finally relaxed. It was ironic—he had thought of her for so long, but now that she was back, he had to first clear her of suspicion.
"Take Rear Admiral Shedd and..." His gaze fell on Phelixes, who had been silently observing him.
The black-haired young man saluted. "Vice Admiral, I am Rear Admiral Shedd’s adjutant, Phelixes."
Cohen nodded. "Arrange quarters for the two of them."
It was this young man who had stayed by Lyra’s side for three years.
The two quarters were separate. Phelixes hesitated briefly outside his door, but Lyra didn’t spare him a glance before closing hers.
In deep space, the two of them had always been inseparable, except when searching for resources. Now that they were back in the Alliance fleet and suddenly separated, Phelixes found it hard to adjust.
Of course, this discomfort was his alone.
...
When Iskandor was brought back to the battleship, his pale, muscular body was riddled with bloody holes.
He tried to use the power of the Stellar Devourer to heal his wounds, but they showed no signs of recovery. Blood quickly pooled beneath his feet.
As the dics stood helpless, he said coldly, "Use the dical repair device."
Once the device was applied, the wounds closed instantly.
Iskandor threw on his coat, his silver hair still dripping blood. Long, snowy-white lashes half-covered his ice-blue eyes, which were as calm as ever.
Sitting on the high chair, he looked like a scene from a master’s painting—impossible to fully capture.
At that mont, a ship even larger than the main battleship approached slowly. The Empire officers’ expressions darkened as the ship established communication.
"Admiral Iskandor, our leader wishes to speak with you." Liliana’s voice was unhurried, soft, and languid.
The command room of the Empire battleship fell into utter silence.
Iskandor rose from his seat.
The Empire officers panicked, pleading anxiously. "Admiral, you mustn’t!"
"The Long Night is unstoppable now. Be careful—they might ally with the Alliance!"
Iskandor raised a hand, and the room fell silent imdiately. "It’s fine."
Without further delay, he used an interdinsional corridor to board the other ship.
Liliana was already waiting for him. "This way, sir." She opened a door beside her.
Iskandor stepped inside and saw soone studying a map of the Empire and Alliance territories.
"You’re here?" the person said without looking up.
Iskandor gave a small nod and moved to stand beside him. "How’s the preparation coming along?"
The tone of their conversation was oddly familiar.
"Almost complete," replied the figure in the armor, pointing to a spot on the map. "We’ll begin here."
Iskandor offered no opinion, simply stating, "Everything is in motion. Let’s begin."
Together, they stared at the glowing points on the map.
"We’ll start with Lyra."
...
After reuniting with the Legion of Flaring Stars, Lyra slept for a solid twenty hours—until a knock at her door finally woke her.
"Sis, I made you so oatal porridge," said Phelixes, standing at the door.
Phelixes was always mindful of her health. Whenever she hadn’t eaten for a long ti, his first instinct was to make her sothing simple and nourishing.
Lyra opened the door and let him in, noticing the steaming food in his hand.
After finishing her al, she watched as Phelixes cleaned up the dishes. Suddenly, she asked, "Do you know why the Stellar Devourers have been able to track our movents so easily this entire ti?"
The sound of dishes crashing to the floor shattered the mont.
"I..." Phelixes stuttered, as if sothing had got his tongue.
He looked up, eting Lyra’s icy gaze.
...
When Cohen arrived, Phelixes was wiping his eyes.
His dark hair and clear eyes stood out against his pale skin. Now, his tear-reddened eyes, flushed nose, and softly blushed lips ford a striking contrast—deeper than peach blossoms, but lighter than roses.
The effect was unexpectedly captivating, a fragile beauty.
Unfortunately for Phelixes, he was a man, and Cohen had no patience to admire such a sight.
He got straight to the point. "The enemy admiral is closing in. We’ve adjusted our course. Do you have any other plans?" asked Cohen.
"I’ll follow your lead," Lyra replied flatly. Right now, all she wanted was to get back as soon as possible.
...
anwhile, aboard the Empire battleship, Westros entered the command room, accompanied by a large number of Stellar Devourers.
"Are you certain you can deal with her?" he asked.
Iskandor gave the slightest nod. "I can keep her restrained, for now."
"Hmph, at least you’re useful," Westros sneered.
He couldn’t help but recall the experints he had conducted in the past—and the experint that had inadvertently created Lyra.
This woman had evolved at an unimaginable speed, and now she was on the verge of becoming the ultimate destroyer of the Stellar Devourers. Westros deeply regretted his mistakes.
"Let’s end this today," he said coldly.
With that, countless Stellar Devourers sward out, ready to overwhelm their target.
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