Chapter 1

[Where are you, Logan? You've gone off the grid for ten days now. Can you call me back if you see this?]

[I'm at my limit here. Your debt is too much for me—just come back and take me away with you if you have to.]

At the northern frontier, Logan Bell was lying on a bed in a lonely shack, his heart aching as he read through the many texts sent to his phone until the present day.

He was covered in bandages stretching from his left shoulder to his abdomen, and the other wounds covering his body left him looking like a rag doll that was sewn together.

He had just left the battlefield three days ago, and that was when his subordinates gathered his personal effects and found this phone which was broken over four years ago. He had to gather several technicians to restore the phone and the texts, along with the SIM card.

There were over six hundred texts and more than one thousand missed calls spanning those four years—and every last one of it was from his wife.

Various expressions alternated over Logan's face as he read through every text. If not for these, he would not have realized what his wife had been through.

Ding.

His phone abruptly vibrated as more text messages popped up.

[Logan. I'm going to get married in three days.]

[It's been four years. I'm done waiting.]

[I know that you're dead now, but I've found out that the Jacksons were behind it.]

[It just so happens that I'm marrying one of theirs, so I'll make them pay.]

[But I'm just a woman and can't avenge you properly, but it would still humiliate the Jacksons if I died at the wedding.]

[I'll be seeing you soon, Logan.]

Once he read the last one, Logan was on his feet, seemingly unaffected by the pain around his body.

He quickly checked the time the messages were sent—just two minutes ago.

It had been four years, but she was still waiting for him…

Still, his breathing became labored before he knew it.

He was not in the army back then, but he was a star among the heirs and heiresses of Southdam, having single-handedly founded a company with hopes of going public.

At the same time, he and Luna Watson, an heiress in her own right, were expecting their wedding.

However, that was when tragedy struck, and he abruptly found himself sinking into the abyss.

He had held a feast to honor a local commander, but he abruptly died just three days later, with all the evidence pointing to him.

Suddenly, he was a fugitive, with over a thousand police officers mobilized for the manhunt!

And overnight, his wedding to Luna was cancelled, while his own family removed his name from the family annals.

With everyone he knew turning against him, he was a pariah.

To add insult to injury, the ones who framed him in the first place sent their own men after him, and he fled all the way to the northern frontier.

It was there where the commander of the frontier forces, with the call sign Warsky, saved him.

To repay that life debt, Logan joined Warsky's service, beginning a four-year career in the trenches.

At that time, Warsky was promoted to general, while Logan took his place as commander of the frontier forces, taking on the call sign Overlord.

He was now the leader of legions who could now move mountains, with the Eight Warmasters and the Twelve Zodiacs under his service.

And yet, the woman he loved had been waiting for four years without knowing if he was alive.

As he got out of bed, he barked, "Get the car ready! I'm going to the airbase—have Colonel Lewis prep a chopper and be quick about it."

His deputy was left at a loss as he watched Overlord get dressed in a hurry—what had gotten into him?

Nonetheless, Logan strode past him soon, leaving the shack just as several military SUVs screeched to a halt before him.

A youth with sharp facial features and an air of primness alighted, nodding respectfully. "Commander, the ambassadors of Scaldania are here with the peace treaty."

Two foreigners soon alighted from the first SUV, with one approaching Logan with a smile. "Commander, here's our terms to stop this senseless war—all it needs is your signature."

Logan withheld the impatience gnawing inside him, taking the document and scanning through it, but he flung it back at the ambassador in an instant.

"I might consider it if you can offer three times the reparations," he snapped bluntly. "Now leave!"

The ambassador's face stiffened, his gaze soon turning cold. "The consequences will be severe if you don't sign it."

"Consequences? You think you can talk to me about the consequences?"

Logan snorted. "You refused the terms we offered just a couple of months ago, and now, you're giving up as soon as you start losing. Do you think the legions of Hammu are playing house?"

"Oh, but I'm not referring to the reparations." The ambassador grinned. "I know for a fact that you have a wife in Southdam—a beautiful woman, I might add. If you find yourself reluctant, I'm sure we can help you meet her again…"

Logan's eyes narrowed sinisterly, and he plucked the sentry's gun from his hip holster, turning off the safety and aiming it at the ambassador's face.

"Commander!" the Zodiacs around him exclaimed anxiously.

The ambassador's face dropped, but he shrugged as he said, "No one shoots an ambassador even in war—that's the rule. What, are you going to kill me?"

Logan's cheek twitched, his finger starting to pull on the trigger. "Tell that to the devil."

"Commander!" the Zodiacs cried, ready to stop him.

Still, Logan paused and returned the gun to the sentry in an instant as he called out, "Hertha."

"Yes, commander," a woman with a star on her epaulets responded with a salute.

"You're the commander now," Logan told her. "And the war doesn't stop until they surrender."

"Yes, commander!"

And with that, Logan hurried to an SUV and entered in a single stroke. "Airbase, Yancy. I'm going back to Southdam!"

And with that, the Zodiacs were left staring at the vehicle as it dashed into the distance, various expressions alternating over their faces.

-

Three days later at Starwing Hotel, the front doors were decorated grandly with a huge wedding photo and colored banners, and the line of guests seemed to have no end.

The Jacksons had allegedly rented out the entire hotel for the occasion—talk about extravagant!

Nonetheless, a figure could be seen slowly approaching the crowd.

Over the last three days, Logan had his people quietly neutralize the threat of enemy agents who infiltrated the country, and now, he would attend his wife's wedding.

Still, he spaced out as he stared at the woman in the wedding photo.

Her bridal dress was gorgeous, but she should have worn it four years ago.

Logan recognized the bridegroom too—it was Hal Jackson, the heir of his family.

Over the last few days, he had been informed that the Jacksons had spent millions investing in Luna's family business, and it turned out that they were the ones behind his phony murder charges.

Either way, it was time to settle grudges, both old and new.

"Hey, isn't that Logan Bell? They said he poisoned and killed a military big-shot, so what's he doing here?"

"Must've fled to escape arrest! Probably still is fleeing, since we've not heard from him for four years."

Be that as it may, someone recognized Logan, and the crowd was at once restless as they turned toward him.

That was when a middle-aged man in a suit rushed toward him, his eyes widening in shock and rage. "It really is you, Logan Bell! How dare you show your face here, you mutt?!"

The man was Arnold Watson, Luna's father.

Arnold hated Logan to the bone after he left a huge debt when he fled Jerviston, and he came back when they finally paid for it?!

"Pops," Logan greeted Arnold calmly nonetheless.

"Don't call me that!" Arnold bellowed. "I'm warning you—Luna's getting married soon, so you'd better leave now before I call for help!"

After all, he was well aware that Logan was wanted for murder on top of his debt. If they managed to arrest him, there was no way he would be released so soon!

For Logan's part, he did not harbor ill will against Arnold either, as he did owe the Watsons too much over the past four years.

"It's as you say, Pops—Luna is getting married," he said calmly. "As his husband, shouldn't I come to take a look?"

Arnold was still seething. "What reason do you have to be here?! Don't you know how terrible life has been for her over the past four years?!

"If I were you, I'd never find the audacity to come back! What's so bad about staying dead?!"

Logan simply stayed silent as Arnold kept ranting, just as hotel security arrived.

Their leader glanced between Logan and Arnold before flashing a fawning smile at the latter. "Good afternoon, Mr. Watson. May I ask who this brat is? He must be asking for a beating, coming here to provoke you."

Arnold calmed down considerably when he saw the security team and quickly said, "Call the cops, stat! He's wanted for murder!"

"Wanted for murder?!" The hotel security team leader was taken aback but soon chuckled coolly. "In that case, we must restrain him before calling the cops! Flank him!"

The dozenish security guards promptly encircled Logan, but he remained impassive as he looked at them in turn, his tone calm, even cold. "Actually, you don't have to call the cops since I've brought them here myself. Why don't you ask them if they're interested in my arrest?"

With those words, he raised his hand, making a gesture.

Bang!

Over forty men in black overalls suddenly charged in, all of them armed to the teeth and at once menacing!

They were armed officers, quickly encircling and training their guns at the security guards!

While Arnold and everyone else were left dumbstruck, Logan spoke slowly and clearly, "I'm no longer a fugitive, Pops. Surely that means I'm allowed to attend Luna's wedding?"