BTSRF 03

Chapter 3

The past ten years flashed through my mind in an instant.

Coming back to myself from my thoughts, I lifted the mug on the table and took a sip of beer.

Amid the noisy chatter filling the dining hall, a low voice cut through.

“Commander, there’s something urgent I need to report regarding this monster subjugation.”

“……”

Green eyes peeked out from beneath slightly faded gray hair.

I glanced briefly at Kiern, who had leaned toward me to speak over the noise, then shifted my gaze back to my mug.

It was a silent warning to stop talking to me—but the bastard had absolutely no sense.

Thinking his voice had been swallowed by the noise, Kiern leaned even closer and continued.

“There have been reports of a monster resembling a bird and a snake appearing in the northeastern village.”

The breath brushing against my ear tickled. I pushed his face away with one hand and asked flatly,

“So what?”

That was when the two knights sitting beside him began chiming in.

“Commander! Shouldn’t we take care of it before another knight order gets there first?”

“Of course this one should be ours! Please let me join the expedition this time!”

“Gerald, who do you think you are, butting in like that? I’m obviously the one going. Who else could be the commander’s right-hand man but me?”

Gerald and Haas’s voices echoed loudly throughout the dining hall.

And as if my answer had never mattered to begin with, they continued arguing among themselves.

“You? The commander’s right hand? Are you trying to send her to the afterlife?”

“What nonsense! Even if the commander died, she’d fight the Demon King and come back!”

With every word they exchanged, my grip on the mug tightened.

Crack!

The beer mug finally gave way, shattering and spilling yellow foam everywhere.

Beer flowed across the table and soaked my legs, but I didn’t move. I simply stared down at my hand.

Shards of broken glass were embedded in my palm, blood seeping out.

The silence was broken by Gerald’s booming laughter.

“Hahaha! Commander, you squeezed too hard! I keep telling you to be careful!”

“Commander, should we order you another beer?”

“Ah—was the beer not to your taste? Should we move somewhere else right now—”

“Enough.”

I sighed and pulled the shards of glass from my hand.

How did it end up like this? What had I even been doing for the past ten years?

When I first joined the knight order, my expectations were very clear.

Subtle tension blooming between comrades training together. Then, worrying over injuries sustained in battle, finally realizing their feelings for each other…

The classic knight order romance.

From comrades to lovers—a cliché, but one of my favorite tropes.

And this was supposed to be a romance novel, wasn’t it? I thought love blooming was only a matter of time.

But my expectations were mercilessly crushed.

First of all, the problem began when I met Alonso Vargas—the man who declared himself my mentor.

***

Ten years ago, the place the duke dragged me to was where a bald, muscle-bound middle-aged man greeted me.

He looked at me, then smiled awkwardly at the duke.

“Oh dear. Isn’t this the youngest child you’ve ever brought? She can’t be more than fifteen at most…”

“She’s talent we cannot afford to lose. This child will one day become the sword of the Perunia Empire.”

There was absolute certainty in the duke’s eyes.

Where that certainty came from, I had no idea.

Could it be because of the man I knocked unconscious? The one riding the carriage I hit was the duke’s younger brother.

The fact that he was excessively frail caused a massive misunderstanding.

“If Your Grace says so, then she must indeed possess outstanding talent.”

She didn’t. I was just a bit stronger than average.

“I want you to take charge of this child. When it comes to swordsmanship, no one in the empire surpasses you.”

I’d been listening absentmindedly to their conversation when those unexpected words made me snap my head up and stare at the bald man.

Wait—this muscle-bound guy is the greatest swordsman in the empire?

The man, dressed in a black uniform, had a long scar running from beneath his eye to his jaw. Even standing still, he exuded an intimidating presence.

Indeed… he wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.

If my memory was correct, this man would later become the male lead’s mentor—and would be killed by my younger brother ten years from now.

Now that I thought about it, the novel mentioned that light reflected off his head. I never imagined it literally meant bald.

The male lead, devastated by the death of his trusted mentor, finds emotional solace in the female lead, deepening their bond.

Even someone with such overwhelming presence was nothing more than a supporting character meant to strengthen the protagonists’ love. A side character whose reason for death was never even explained.

If there was a reason at all, it was simply because you were the male lead’s mentor…

A character destined to be sacrificed for the sake of romance. Those impressive muscles suddenly looked pitiful.

Perhaps sensing my sympathetic gaze, the bald man smiled at me, showing white teeth.

“Nervous? Don’t worry so much.”

His hand, rough but warm, patted my head.

Beneath all those muscles, his nature might actually be kinder than expected.

A side character who barely appears in the novel. The dead sister of a villain who never even gets screen time.

Maybe that’s why I felt a strange sense of kinship with him.

Sunlight reflected off his head, making his eyes look warm.

This guy seems like a good person…

That thought was completely overturned less than half a day after the duke left.

“Damn it, you cursed bald bastard!”

I was waddling under the weight of a massive boulder balanced on my head, spewing curses at bald men.

That day marked my first step into hell.

Life in the knight order was completely incompatible with me. It was nothing like the peaceful, comfortable life I had dreamed of.

Days when I slept properly were rare. Because I was deemed “talented,” I was forced to endure more training and harsher schedules than everyone else.

Back then, I was constantly on edge—easily exhausted, quick to anger over trivial things.

Alonso Vargas.

That was the bald man’s name—the one who taught me that I was capable of truly cursing someone.

Every time I returned home, I planned to run to my parents and tell them I was quitting the knight order.

But somehow, thanks to whatever schemes the duke and Alonso Vargas pulled, I barely saw my parents during my first year in the order.

By then, I had already become a promising talent within the knights, burdened with my family’s and household’s expectations.

I was trapped, unable to move forward or back.

For a fleeting moment, I even thought it might be better if my brother grew up to be a villain and killed that damned bald man.

But damn it—affection is a strange thing.

What once made me gag just to look at him eventually became… tolerable.

Then, two years ago—eight years after I joined the order—he appointed me commander of a new knight division.

At the time, I was even proud, thinking it meant I was trusted.

That was before I realized how exhausting the role would be.

After subjugating one monster, another awaited me. Kill that one, and yet another followed.

Before I knew it, I was living alongside monsters, barely able to return home.

In the prime of my youth, I hadn’t even dated once. At this rate, I’d end up locking eyes with a monster instead.

“This isn’t right!”

Last summer, recalling the gorilla-like monster that tormented me, I slammed my chair back and stood up.

The knights’ gazes immediately turned toward me.

“So the beer really wasn’t to your taste?”

“Commander, please don’t get angry.”

Perhaps because of the alcohol, their faces overlapped with that gorilla monster.

Romance with these guys? Not a chance.

I shouted in fury.

“I’m quitting as commander!”

***

I immediately went to see my mentor and the man overseeing all knight orders—Alonso Vargas.

He had been working in his office; deep shadows lay under his eyes. His already dark complexion looked even more grim, casting a gloomy aura around him.

Seeing that, I resolved never to end up like him—and my desire to resign surged.

Boldness was essential if I wanted to push my point. I slammed my hand on the desk.

“I’m quitting the knight order!”

Alonso Vargas snorted.

“Denied.”

Denied? I let out a hollow laugh.

“Ha. Are you going to take responsibility for my life? I want to date, attend parties, and spend money recklessly!”

“Shiona Rodriz. You’re misunderstanding something.”

That shameless face! I clenched my fist and glared at him, daring him to continue.

“Do you know what the ideal type of men in the empire is? A strong woman. Muscles and strength earned through relentless training only increase your appeal. Cultivate power men can rely on!”

“Don’t spout nonsense!”

He’d said the exact same thing two years ago when he made me commander.

“Admiration turns into love. Do you know how many recruits join the knight order because they admire you?”

“Aren’t you tired of saying that?”

If admiration really became love, I should’ve been rolling around with several subordinates by now.

Admiration was just admiration. Besides, I had no desire to date my subordinates. We’d seen too much of each other while fighting monsters. They were practically family—romance was impossible.

“Hmph… then it can’t be helped.”

At that moment, Alonso Vargas’s black eyes gleamed sharply.

What—was he challenging me?

Bracing myself for some sort of threat, I reached into my coat for the resignation letter I’d kept on me.

Just as I was about to throw it in his face, he spoke first.

“Once this expedition ends, I’ll introduce you to a man who fits your ideal type.”

This bald bastard—what does he even take me for?

“If you thought I’d be tempted by something like that—”

“I’ll arrange someone with exceptional looks. Wasn’t your preference a northern grand duke with black hair and blue eyes?”

…Damn it. I’d joked about that once, and he remembered.

He’d asked about my ideal type, and I’d simply described the typical male lead from the novels I read.

“But that might be difficult. The Perunia Empire’s grand duke governs the south. Or do you simply prefer someone from the north?”

“North or south doesn’t matter. Black hair, blue eyes, cold to everyone else but warm and gentle to me—a man so beautiful he looks like he stepped right out of a novel.”

“……I’ll try.”

Crap. I almost fell for Alonso Vargas’s scheme again. Today was supposed to be the day I quit and reclaim my peaceful life!

I remembered the giant centipede from the last monster subjugation—the way it writhed even after being slashed dozens of times.

I must never forget that horror.

“Wait! When did I say I wanted an introduction?”

“Come to think of it, there is someone who matches your taste.”

As if he knew my taste that well. I scoffed.

“Forget it. Worry about yourself. I’ve never once seen you date—who are you to set anyone up?”

Despite my provocation, Alonso Vargas only smiled faintly.

“From an appearance standpoint, he matches your type perfectly.”

My ears perked up, but I turned away, pretending disinterest.

“And from what I know, he’s never dated either.”