The Northern Warlord Returns

The battle line was a wasteland. Blood soaked the battlefield.

Dead bodies and broken guns littered the ground as Lieutenant Richard Eagle walked slowly through the thick smoke, checking for anyone still breathing.

He had just killed the War Emperor of the Ganchimo Battalion all by himself.

News of how Richard Eagle's bloody war ended spread everywhere. Because of this, the Great Commander of the Northern Hemisphere planned to bestow on Richard the legendary title of Warlord of the Northeast Battalion.

“Your crew is heading straight to the war in Neptune, starting right now,” General Thickcup said, stepping into his path with a nasty glare.

“Only if you finish this mission will I hand over the Warlord of the Northeast Battalion title to you.”

Thickcup was worried. He was scared of Richie’s brilliant battle tactics and his clean record.

Richard had never lost a war. He was rising too fast in the military, and Thickcup wanted him gone.

Accepting this second mission was painful. Richard had just returned home less than two days ago. He only wanted a few weeks off to see Audrey, the woman he promised to marry, but duty called him back.

Fighting alongside the Neptune forces felt wrong from the very first day. A bad feeling lingered in his chest, but he still led his men forward. Then, unfortunately, an enemy bullet tore straight through his leg.

He went down in the mud. No one came to rescue him in time, and he bled out in the dirt. By the time help finally reached him, his leg was badly affected by infection.

Back in the Northern Hemisphere, the doctors gave him the brutal news: his lower leg had to be cut off.

Within three days of waking up in the hospital, the nation's greatest hero became a joke.

The hospital door clicked open.

General Thickcup walked in, escorting the Great Commander of the Northern Hemisphere, followed by armed guards.

“The medical board found banned drugs in your bloodstream,” Thickcup said, holding up a fake lab report.

“That is the only way you could have survived and killed the Ganchimo War Emperor.”

It was a complete lie.

Richie had never taken drugs in his life. It was one of the things Audrey loved most about him.

“I did nothing of that sort,” Richie said, his voice cold as he turned his head away.

Anger burned in every word. He didn't care about the military anymore. He couldn't believe he was being accused of something he had never indulged in.

“Lieutenant Richard Eagle,” the Great Commander began, pacing the room with his hands behind his back.

“For winning three wars back-to-back, no legal charges will be pressed. Starting today, you are granted the title of Battalion Lordship.”

The words dropped heavily in the silent room.

Richie’s loyal soldier clenched his fists in pure rage.

“Sir, he is innocent!” the soldier shouted before stepping close to the bed and lowering his voice.

The Great Commander drew a deep breath. “I tried to fight for you, but I couldn't do much. Have a good life. Your reward money will be sent to your bank account.”

The Great Commander gave a stiff salute and a quick handshake, which Richie painfully returned with a shaking hand.

Then, they all marched out, leaving only General Thickcup behind.

Richie stared at him, realizing the truth. He was being framed, and he suspected that the Great Commander could feel it too.

Thickcup unpinned his own badge from a uniform on a chair and leaned in close.

“Don't mess with the Morgan Family,” Thickcup whispered with a wicked smile before walking out.

Rage exploded in Rich’s chest. “I will destroy you, Thickcup!”

“This is just the beginning!” Rich screamed, ripping the IV drip right out of his arm.

Sharp, phantom pain shot up from his missing leg straight into his head.

He looked down at his bandaged stump and screamed at the top of his lungs until he passed out from the shock.

Hours later, after doctors brought him back, they sent him to see a trauma therapist.

How was he supposed to face Audrey Rossman now? His dear fianceè.

Audrey was one of the richest heiresses in the Northeast Hemisphere. She deserved a whole man, not a disabled cripple stuck in a bed.

Outside, every news channel blasted headlines calling him a drug addict!!!

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Audrey and her father had arrived at the hospital.

Audrey loved him, but she wanted to be the next CEO, and she couldn't be tied to a disgraced outcast.

Down in the parking lot, before getting out of his car, Mr. Morgan made a quick phone call.

“Are you in position?” Mr. Morgan asked.

“Yes, sir,” a voice answered. “When do I get the rest of my money?”

“Later,” Mr. Morgan snapped and hung up.

Upstairs in the VIP room, a beautiful, curvaceous physiotherapist was touching Richie’s hip where he had a bullet wound.

From her position, her hourglass shape was visible while she administered treatment. Richie winced in dull pain.

Audrey and her father walked up and looked through the glass. To Audrey’s angry eyes, the elegant woman looked like a seductress all over her man.

Mr. Morgan pulled his daughter into a comforting hug, hiding a cold, wicked smile.

After five minutes, the physiotherapist slipped out.

Mr. Morgan let go of Audrey, and she stormed into the room like a storm.

Audrey looked stunning, wearing designer clothes and expensive jewelry. She was the most beautiful girl Richie had ever met, and his heart ached just looking at her.

Tears streamed down her face.

“How could you do this to me, Richie?!” she screamed, throwing her hair back in pure disgust.

Richie looked at her, totally confused.

“The woman who was just in here... was she better than me?” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

How was he supposed to explain that she was just a physiotherapist whose lab coat was off?

“Audrey, no. You are the only one,” Richie said strictly, his voice strained. He didn't want to lose her, but his pride told him he was now a burden.

A minute of heavy silence passed.

“Do you even trust me, Audrey?” he asked softly, knowing this might be the last time he ever spoke to her.

Audrey put her hands on her slim waist, breathing heavily.

“Richie, I loved you even when my father fought against us. I know you said you didn't do drugs, but look at you!” she cried, pacing the room.

She stopped, her face turning ice-cold.

“I can't marry you. Not like this!”

With shaking fingers, she pulled off their engagement ring and dropped it right onto his bed.

Richie watched her turn away.

The sweet scent of her perfume slowly faded into the air, taking a piece of his soul with it.

He reached out with a shaking hand, picked up the ring, and tied it to his neck chain as a pendant.

Unexpectedly, the heavy door blew open. His friend ran into the room, gasping for air as if running from a hail of bullets.

“Richie!” his voice choked out, eyes wide with terror.

“The Great Commander... the Great Commander of the Northern Hemisphere has just been found dead!”