Chapter 1 Young Marshal's Return

• At Shoresea International Airport, the air was electric with anticipation as a convoy of military vehicles rolled into the open-air parking lot, engines rumbling.
• Each vehicle came to a precise halt, the spectacle a testament to disciplined order.
• "Everyone, out of the vehicles!" A lieutenant colonel, his uniform adorned with three gleaming stars, commanded with a voice that brooked no dissent. The soldiers responded instantly, like well-oiled machinery.
• In perfect unison, more than a hundred soldiers disembarked, forming ranks opposite their commanding officer. Their expressions were as rigid as their stance, a living embodiment of Estagon's military might.
• "The young marshal from the Northwild Military Zone arrives in five minutes at Shoresea International Airport. He is a national sentinel, the pride of Estagon. His arrival must be impeccable. Clear the area now!"
• In this order, the soldiers moved with synchronised precision, their footsteps a rhythmic drumbeat. The crowd, waiting for their own arrivals, parted instinctively, clearing the military's path in a matter of moments.
• "Who warrants such an honourable reception at Shoresea?" murmured the onlookers, curiosity sharpened by the sight of a lieutenant colonel overseeing the event personally.
• "Sir, the area is clear!"
• "Excellent!" The lieutenant colonel nodded. "Soldiers, prepare to greet the young marshal with the highest honours!"
• The Northwild Military Zone stood as Estagon's most elite force, its renown unparalleled.
• Young Marshal Larry Shaw, a legend in his own right at the mere age of twenty-seven, was celebrated for his countless victories. To the two hundred thousand troops under his command, he was more than a leader; he was an icon.
• Peace does not come without sacrifice.
• For every serene moment, there are those who bear the weight of the nation on their shoulders.
• In truth, this reception was modest. Were it not for Larry's insistence on restraint, the entire city might have been brought to a standstill in his honour.
• His position and the enormity of his contributions as a pillar of national strength would have warranted far more elaborate measures.
• Soon, through the exclusive military corridor, a young man emerged. Draped in a trench coat, Larry possessed an air of distinction that years of service had bestowed upon him. Even devoid of formal military trappings, his demeanour distinguished him, exuding an inherent nobility.
• "Attention!" The command echoed sharply. "Salute! Welcome, young marshal, to Shoresea!"
• As Larry appeared, over a hundred soldiers, including the lieutenant colonel, greeted him with the highest honours. The surrounding crowd was struck with awe.
• "Young marshal?" Although not an official rank, the title alone signified a figure of immense significance and renown.
• Larry breathed deeply, a sigh of relief after the arduous ten-hour journey on a military aircraft.
• He was finally back on his native soil. A decade of military service had kept him from this land and the woman he could never forget.
• "I thought I made it clear to keep this low-key," Larry remarked, a note of reproach in his deep-set eyes as he looked at the lieutenant colonel who led the reception.
• The lieutenant colonel gave a sheepish smile. He had aimed for discretion, but the higher-ups had insisted on a grander welcome.
• This is already quite understated. "Young marshal, please, get in the car."
• "No need," Larry declined firmly. "I won't be staying in the military quarters this time. You can all return."
• His intention was clear—he sought to rejoin civilian life.
• A decade of warfare had left him weary of endless conflict.
• "But ... " The lieutenant colonel faltered, for he stood before a living legend, a hero of Estagon, who was worthy of the highest honours yet had refused them.
• "If I need anything, I’ll let you know," Larry said, placing a reassuring hand on the lieutenant colonel’s shoulder, his smile faint but genuine. He then took hold of his suitcase and walked away alone.
• His solitary figure drew curious glances as he made his way through the airport. Outside, a sleek black SUV awaited. As Larry approached, a burly man stepped out.
• "Young marshal!" The man offered Larry a crisp salute before taking the suitcase from him.
• "Did you find her?" Larry asked from the back seat, his voice soft.
• Keith Forester, seated behind the wheel, responded, "Yes, we did. The little girl from ten years ago is Cecilia Faraday, a member of the Faraday family."
• Larry’s heart tightened at the name. Ten years had passed.
• Without Cecilia’s act of kindness back then, he wouldn’t be where he is today. He had spent a decade searching for her, determined to express his gratitude.
• This return from the military was solely to find her.
• She had occupied his thoughts for ten long years. He knew she might have forgotten him, but that was secondary.
• Larry hailed from the illustrious Shaw family, a name synonymous with wealth and power. And he was heir apparent.
• However, within such families, blood relations often took a backseat to the ruthless pursuit of wealth and influence. Ten years ago, Larry had been betrayed during a business deal, resulting in a catastrophic loss of billions. His own family had deemed him unworthy of being the sole heir.
• Even worse, his father had lost faith in him, declaring him a failure and casting him out. Overnight, Larry went from heir apparent to outcast, a pariah shunned by all.
• But the ordeal didn’t end there. Fleeing to Shoresea, he had been grievously wounded and left for dead in the streets, hunted relentlessly by those who wished him harm.
• Had it not been for the kindness of that girl, who offered him sustenance and nursed him back to health, Larry would have met his end a decade ago.
• "But!" Keith suddenly interjected, "Cecilia's life these past ten years has been far from easy. Her grandfather, Philip Faraday, holds a deep-seated preference for sons over daughters. Moreover, the Faraday family has been mired in financial strife, and Cecilia's family bore the brunt of it, being cast out first."
• "To add to her woes, today is Cecilia's wedding day. She is being married off to that rogue from the Limerent family. The Faradays are using her as a pawn to secure their business interests," Keith continued, his words resonating with Larry, causing his eyes to flash with a steely resolve.
• Keith pressed on, "This man, emboldened by his family's influence, has a notorious reputation for exploitation and cruelty. Cecilia's future looks grim if she marries him."
• "The Limerents?" Larry's voice was frigid. "When you drop me off, ensure you deliver a message to the Limerents. Make sure they get it firmly."
• Larry would not allow anyone to harm Cecilia. From his suitcase, he retrieved a worn, faded garment.
• Though its colour had long since leached away, to Larry, it was a treasured relic—given to him by Cecilia a decade ago and cherished ever since.
• At the Imperial Hotel, the grand hall was abuzz, filled with rows of banquet tables set up for Cecilia's wedding.
• Philip had meticulously arranged everything to maintain a facade of grandeur, given that Cecilia’s current abode was a decrepit neighbourhood unfit for such an event.
• Philip's lofty claims of finding Cecilia a suitable match were hollow. Everyone knew that the Limerent heir was a notorious idler and a brute.
• A marriage to him would spell disaster.
• "Why?" Cecilia wept in the presidential suite. "Why does Grandfather still seek to control my life, even after casting us out? From the moment I was born, he never once held me. What right does he have?"
• "I don’t want this!"
• Her heart was torn to shreds. She knew all too well the horrific nature of Connor.