Chapter 1 The Return of Howard Salvator
Among a cluster of islands in the open sea, a majestic and imposing palace stood tall.
The island had been almost entirely leveled, leaving the palace as its centerpiece. Outside its grand copper gates, a formation of 100 thousand warriors, clad in black armor, stood motionless, exuding an aura of overwhelming killing intent.
A hundred thousand pairs of eyes were fixed on the copper doors, brimming with tears.
The massive doors slowly opened, and a tall, well-built young man in a black trench coat stepped out.
His face was cold and stern, exuding an air of unyielding authority. Behind him followed a towering man over six feet seven inches tall, and seven others in black armor with solemn expressions.
In perfect unison, the 100 thousand warriors raised their arms in a thunderous salute.
Howard Salvator lifted his head proudly and raised his right hand slightly. Snap! The warriors completed their salute with deafening precision.
"When I came here seven years ago, I was a condemned man. Today, the enemy is defeated, and peace reigns in the world. I am returning home to see my wife and child!" His voice, as deep and resonant as thunder, echoed across the island—a declaration of his resolve.
Howard turned back. The seven commanders behind him immediately straightened their postures, dropped to one knee, and roared in unison, "Farewell, Imperial Dragon!"
Ten minutes later, the rumble of a helicopter broke the silence. It rose swiftly into the sky, heading east toward the sunrise.
The sun dipped below the horizon as Howard and a burly man, a lollipop in his mouth, emerged from the terminal in Yorkhaven Airport in Norrath Province.
The burly man handed Howard a file folder. "Sir, this contains information about your wife and child."
"Preston, no amount of paper can capture their experiences over the years. Just give me their address and go enjoy yourself," Howard replied, glancing at the folder but making no move to take it.
Preston Hale grinned, turned, and left without hesitation.
Standing still for a moment, Howard looked around at the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings. He murmured to himself, "When I was taken seven years ago, you were pregnant. Quinnie, how have you been?"
Half an hour later, Howard stepped out of a cab and stared at the bustling Xandria Farmers' Market. His brows knitted in confusion, wondering why Quinn Harper's address would lead him here.
Following the directions, he ventured into the chaotic market. The air was thick with the smell of fish and rot, the noise relentless and grating.
He stopped in front of a seafood stall. Sitting on a low stool was a little girl, six or seven years old.
She wore a faded blue T-shirt, her hair cut into a short bob. Her face was pale, and her body thin—obviously malnourished.
The little girl hunched over, struggling to gut a fish with a knife on a bloodstained chopping board. Her movements were clumsy, and splashes of filth stained her small body. Sensing someone watching her, she looked up and met Howard's gaze.
At that moment, Howard's mind went blank. The girl's face was nearly identical to Quinn's.
His body trembled uncontrollably. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a photo. One glance was enough to confirm it: this was the daughter he hadn't seen in seven years.
"My—" His throat tightened, and his nose burned as tears threatened to fall.
He wasn't sure if she would recognize him, nor was he sure if she would be frightened.
At that moment, a plump woman, Felicia Brook, with a cigarette in her mouth strode into the shop.
Glancing at the little girl on the stool, she waved impatiently. "Finished with those fish yet? Hurry up and scram. Damn, today's my bad luck—I've already lost 500 dollars in an hour."
The little girl looked up at Felicia, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and flashed a sweet smile. "Mrs. Brook, you said if I finish these fish, you'd give me ten dollars and a piece of bread."
Her eyes were filled with hope, her tiny frame visibly restraining her hunger.
"You little bastard," Felicia blew a smoke ring and sneered. "You've only done a few fish, and you're already asking for money from me? You're just like your mom."
Then, she reached for a cheap loaf of bread from the counter. She dangled it in front of the little girl with a cruel smile. "Want this?"
The girl nodded vigorously, swallowing hard, and reached out eagerly.
But just as her hand stretched forward, Felicia let go. The bread fell to the filthy floor, and she stomped on it with her foot.
Spitting on the ground, she snarled, "Eat, eat, eat—that's all you bastard know how to do. Go ahead, eat it!"
The bread was now misshapen and covered in dirt. Yet the little girl's eyes lit up as if she'd found treasure. Like a starving cub, she dove for it, picked it up, and devoured it hungrily.
Chewing as she ate, she glanced up at Felicia and mumbled, "I'm not a bastard. I have two names. I'm Bianca Harper, and I'm also called Dragoness Bianca."
Hearing the name "Dragoness Bianca", Howard staggered, barely able to keep standing.
Seven years ago, when Quinn was pregnant, they had agreed that if they had a daughter, her nickname would be Dragoness Bianca.
He couldn't hold back anymore. His eyes filled with tears as he rushed toward Bianca.
Grabbing her thin, trembling hand as she reached for the bread again, Howard stopped her.
"This is dirty. You can't eat it," he said, choking back his tears as he gently pried the bread from her hand and threw it away.