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My younger brother was chosen against his will, and yet it was me they forced into the army. My father and stepmother conspired against me, demanding I take his place. Even my fiancée urged me to make the "noble sacrifice." I refused. Their response? Drugged and cast into the barracks like a forsaken tool. Ten years of bloodshed followed. Ten years of clawing my way from cannon fodder to the highest military commander of the realm, commanding the northern frontier's elite forces. They thought I had long perished on the battlefield, my bones buried in some nameless grave. But they were wrong—I lived. And now, I was back. It happened to be my brother's wedding day. Dressed in the tattered old uniform that had seen me through countless battles, I marched through the grand gates of the Lin manor with unyielding resolve. When I announced my name, silence fell upon the hall like the shadow of an impending storm. All eyes turned to me, wide with disbelief. My father's face twisted with shock and rage, his voice trembling as he spat out, “How can you still be alive?” There was no trace of familial affection, only the cold dread of guilt.