TFR 02

CHAPTER 02

“Ugh, ugh!”

With a gag stuffed in his mouth, Roberto poured disinfectant over the wound on his arm. The raw, red gash burned as if it were on fire. Grinding his teeth, Roberto writhed in pain.

The Imperial Knights, led by the Emperor himself, had resumed their pursuit a few months ago. Since then, Roberto’s body had been covered in wounds both big and small. It was nothing like being hunted by trainee knights, bounty hunters, or mercenaries. This was a different league altogether.

Leaning against the wall, Roberto waited for the bleeding to stop. His hiding place was a corner of the horse market.

With a bribe of about twenty gallons to the stable keeper, you could eat and sleep near the horses for a day. It was a secret trick shared only among elite mercenaries whose lives were constantly at risk.

In the six years since he deserted the knight order, Roberto had done every sort of work imaginable. Among faceless mercenaries, his skills were well-known. But because he was hunted, he couldn’t take too many jobs.

Every few months, the Emperor himself would lead the knights for a ten-day hunt. Each time, Roberto had barely escaped with his life. Even now, he could still feel Dantes breathing down his neck.

Soaked in sweat, Roberto lay down on a pile of straw. The reek of horse dung, damp hay, and dirt was no hindrance to his rest—he had endured far harsher places.

But as he shifted, he felt a tightness in his chest. Reaching under his tunic, his fingers brushed against a special undergarment: dried sheepskin lined with stiff whale bone, bound tight around his chest. Only by loosening it could he breathe properly.

But the moment he did, “he” disappeared. And what appeared instead was a person who should not exist—a fully grown woman with a curved chest. That was the truth that could never be revealed.

Roberto Brida.

He ran a hand down his face, recalling the false name he had given himself. The infamous traitor accused of insulting the Empire, with an unprecedented bounty of ten thousand gallons, Roberto Brida… did not exist.

What existed was Roselina Brida.

A teenage girl who became a mercenary to ease her family’s poverty. By chance, she had caught the crown prince’s eye, and for a time even dreamed of knighthood. But she could not hide forever the truth of her maturing female body.

If only I could have hidden it forever, I would have stayed by his side.

Roselina let out a bitter smile at the foolish thought. She could not be caught. If she was, she would bring nothing but disappointment—not just to Dantes, but to the three friends she had once shared everything with.

All those bright, youthful days they had together—spring, summer, autumn, winter. Two years that shone the brightest in Roselina’s twenty-two years of life.

Moments that would never return felt all the more brilliant in hindsight. Covering her eyes with the back of her hand, Roselina reminded herself she had little time to rest. Come dawn, she would have to slip away again.

Only one thought filled her mind: I must never be caught. Even if it meant death.

Even if her soul vanished after death, her body must never be exposed. If the truth came out—that she was a woman—Dantes and her friends would be scarred forever.

To Roselina, they were still her dearest friends, the most precious people in her life. But she knew she was no longer that to them.

When had it all gone wrong?

If she could turn back time, Roselina would not have followed Dantes. She would not have created those radiant days, but simply lived as another ordinary mercenary.

Then no one would have been hurt…

She felt a heavy guilt for living a life that was itself a sin. Even knowing the nightmares would return, she forced her eyes shut.

A chill wind blew through the lifeless stable.

Meanwhile…

Gunter hammered a massive nail into the ground to hold up the trembling temporary tent. At his belt hung a hammer inlaid with six emeralds—the mark of Gunter Butler. He wielded it as both a weapon and a tool whenever needed.

“You useless lot can’t even handle this properly! How are we ever supposed to catch that bastard Roberto?”

“S-sorry, sir!”

“From now, it’s training. Up to the mountain peak and back down! Last one back takes night watch! Move it!”

“Yes, sir!”

The soldiers around the camp shouted in unison and rushed toward the hills. Dusting dirt off his hands, Gunter entered the central tent where his comrades waited.

“Already worn out from the march, and you’re working them harder? Typical temper of yours.”

Marco yawned loudly, leaning back against his sleeping bag. Gunter wiped his hands with a damp cloth and downed some wine.

“The problem’s that they’re too weak. Like this, they won’t even graze Roberto’s sleeve!”

“And what about us? We’ve only ever grazed his sleeve at best.”

“Marco. Watch your mouth.”

Cesario glanced at Dantes as he spoke. Dantes sat slumped in a folding chair, eyes closed. He looked as if he were resting, but sleep never came easily—not since Roberto Brida vanished six years ago. Only his closest companions knew the truth.

“Come on, I’m only saying what we all know. Six years on the run? That’s creepy. If it were me, I’d have given up long ago.”

“And gotten yourself killed? He has no choice but to keep running.”

Gunter scratched his head. Marco sat up with a scoff.

“If His Majesty really wanted him dead, would he care so much whether the man was wounded or not? Earlier, he could’ve gone for a vital point, but he aimed elsewhere on purpose.”

“No.”

Dantes’ reply was sharp, almost too fast. Marco mouthed, See? at the others. Gunter gaped at Dantes.

“Wait—Dantes, is that true?”

“No, of course not! Deaf, are you? I said no!”

Dantes’ eyes snapped open. Gunter echoed back, “Not true?”

“Then why get so worked up about it?” Marco said with mock innocence. Dantes hurled an apple at him in irritation. Marco caught it easily and took a big bite, grinning.

“I just want to look him in the eye,” Dantes muttered, “and hear why he disappeared. Even if it’s just an excuse.”

“…”

Marco shook his head at Dantes’ relentless passion and chewed his apple. Dantes slammed a hand down on the table, his eyes hardening.

“And then I’ll kill him myself. In the most painful way.”

“Still… as an old friend—”

“I don’t call traitors friends! He deceived me, shamed the Empire, deserted the order, and dragged us into this endless chase—for six long years!”

“Dantes… are you angry?”

Gunter’s awkward question sapped Dantes’ fury, and he waved his hand as if giving up.

“Forget it. No point talking to you lot.”

“Maybe Roberto did wrong, but I’m sure he had his reasons. He was always quiet, always shy…”

“And what possible reason justifies this?!”

Dantes’ voice rose. He had never moved on from that day—the day Roberto Brida vanished.

“Cesario, Gunter, quit teasing him. You know His Majesty reacts every time you push.”

“Marco, you started it.” Cesario corrected. Marco only shrugged and finished his apple.

With a sigh, Dantes went on, “This time, we must catch him. We can’t keep deploying troops—we need to defend the capital.”

It was because they had all once known Roberto that they could even joke about him. But Dantes’ feelings were far more tangled than he let on.

For there was something only he and Roberto knew. The words they had exchanged in the rain the night before he vanished.

Even now, Dantes could not speak of it to anyone. Only from Roberto’s mouth could he hear the answer. And he already knew it would not be the answer he wanted—Roberto had been expressing his refusal by running for six years.

And yet… Dantes still longed to see him again, to look him in the eye and hear it. Any answer would do. If it wasn’t the one he wanted, then he would torment Roberto until it was.

Because he still wanted him at his side, no matter what.

He remembered that pale face dusted with freckles like stars. Those blue eyes gazing up at him. A small frame, but quick and nimble, with refined swordsmanship.

A friend he thought would be by his side forever—someone he never imagined could vanish.

But this time, they would catch him. The encirclement was tightening, his quarry was tiring, and there were fewer escape routes. The advantage was theirs.

I will catch him. I will bring him back.

Whether he lived or died would depend on the answer he gave. But first, they had to meet.

What face would Roberto Brida wear now, no longer a boy but a grown man? What build, what expression, what temperament, what life had he lived?

Dantes Belkin had too many questions he needed answered.

This was the year it had to end. Six years since his ascension—two spent at war, four building the Empire’s foundation. Even in his busiest years, he had pursued Roberto. But now the Delion Empire had to take its next step forward.

This would be the last hunt.

Dantes was far more desperate than he appeared—both in his obsession with Roberto and in his own heart. He sat down in silence, letting out a long sigh, closing his eyes.

But sleep did not come again tonight.

If Roberto returned, if he came back to me… would sleep return as well?

Perhaps.

Dantes longed for the change that Roberto’s presence might bring. Whatever the answer, his feelings had remained unchanged through all these years—not hatred, but something deeper.