"You’re suggesting… an invasion of the north?"
For the first ti, Parfalle couldn't hide her shock.
She looked as though she had just heard sothing completely unimaginable.
"That’s correct."
The murmuring of the gathered officials, who had been silently observing the debate, grew louder.
Even Airen, who had been listening intently, widened her eyes in disbelief.
It was clear that she had never expected to take the discussion in this direction.
Not that I could bla her. I hadn’t expected it either.
"No… Sir Swen. Do you even realize what you're saying?"
A bead of sweat trickled down Parfalle’s forehead.
There was no trace of her earlier confidence, no attempt to overpower with sheer presence.
She was simply bewildered—completely caught up in the absurdity of what I had just proposed.
And at that mont—
"Ah. I can use this."
I carefully chose the most natural-sounding words, as if I truly didn’t understand the issue, and asked in a deliberately vague manner:
"What exactly do you an?"
"I an—do you truly believe that sending our troops north to attack Serpina’s territory is the best possible strategy at this mont?"
How considerate of her to phrase it in such a perfect, textbook manner.
I wasted no ti inputting her question into my internal logic.
"Is attacking Serpina’s territory with our northern forces the most efficient course of action right now?"
The question had been entered.
Now, it was ti to receive an answer.
[Yes.]
"As expected."
I had already reasoned my way to this conclusion by eliminating all incorrect possibilities.
Still, since I had arrived at it purely through personal deduction rather than my Intelligence-based foresight, I hadn’t been completely confident.
But now I had the certification of a 100 Intelligence brain.
There was no longer any reason to hesitate.
The best possible move Brans Army could make this month was to invade Serpina’s territory.
I had no idea why—but that didn’t matter.
Parfalle, of course, had no idea what I was thinking.
Her voice sharpened as she fired back, speaking even faster than before.
"Our current forces are in no condition to invade any of the northern fortresses. The Serpina Army vastly outnumbers us due to their extensive territory, and their troops are composed of experienced veterans who have gained battle experience from suppressing northern uprisings and conquering various factions. While our soldiers have also seen combat, Serpina’s forces are simply more seasoned due to their aggressive campaigns."
She wasn’t wrong.
And most likely, Serpina had already recruited all of the rcenary groups stationed in the northern continent.
Parfalle didn’t seem to be aware of that part yet.
"And even if we sohow managed to launch an offensive from Kelstein Castle, the closest and most reasonable target would be Cherien Castle in the northeast. That fortress currently holds around 40,000 troops. Considering the nature of siege warfare, we would need at least 70,000 to 80,000 to break through. While it isn’t entirely impossible if we gather forces from nearby minor fortresses, doing so would leave Kelstein Castle completely exposed. There’s no way the commanders stationed in Chorel Castle and the nearby fortresses would sit idly by and let that happen."
She took a deep breath.
I must have really rattled her.
"To prevent that, we could theoretically pull troops from another front. However, our ceasefire agreents with neighboring nations are set to expire soon. The war will resu before long. And launching an invasion of the north is not sothing that can be resolved in such a short tifra. The Serpina Army is no minor faction."
Having stated her case, she looked directly in the eyes.
"Which is why I fail to understand why you would propose such an idea, Sir Swen. If you have any reasoning to support your claim, I would like to hear it. On what basis are you making this judgnt?"
A basis?
I had none.
Only my prediction told this was the correct course of action.
But—Luna wasn’t here.
Lyn Brans wouldn’t believe without proof.
In fact, aside from Luna, I couldn’t think of a single person who would blindly trust my words without reason.
Which ant I had to say sothing.
If I had more ti, I could have used my prediction to deduce the logic behind the decision and present a compelling argunt.
But I was operating with almost no information.
So what was I supposed to say?
I t her gaze, considering my options—
And then—
"That’s enough."
Lyn’s voice rang out from behind us.
By the ti I turned to look, she had already approached us.
Neither I nor Parfalle had noticed, too caught up in our debate.
"This discussion is going on too long. Let’s stop here for now. Are you both fine with that?"
She was cutting off the debate.
It wasn’t hard to guess why.
"She doesn’t want to risk being convinced."
The mont such a drastic proposal entered the discussion, the debate had shifted in my favor.
Lyn was intelligent enough to realize that if I were allowed to continue, I might say sothing persuasive.
And if that happened, her officers would start listening to .
If the discussion dragged on, I could end up setting the agenda for Brans Army.
Lyn wanted to prevent that.
It was a petty move for a ruler, but given how she treated Airen, it wasn’t surprising.
But—
She had just made a critical mistake.
She assud I had a persuasive argunt.
When in reality, I had only just settled on my conclusion and had no idea why it was correct.
Her mistake was sothing I had to exploit.
"I…"
"I have no objections if it is our lord’s will."
I cut in before Parfalle could speak.
She hesitated, staring at in frustration, before eventually nodding.
"…I also have no objections."
"Good. That’s settled, then."
Lyn was a ruler who prided herself on her authority.
She didn’t tolerate defiance.
Her treatnt of Airen had made that abundantly clear.
And Parfalle, who worked closely with her, understood that better than anyone.
"Now then—let ask all of you. Who believes Parfalle’s strategy is superior? Raise your hand."
The gathered officers raised their hands in unison.
The numbers were roughly the sa as before.
"And now—who believes we should change our strategy to follow Airen’s proposal?"
Not a single hand went up.
Considering the debate had been cut off before I could press my point, this outco was inevitable.
But I didn’t care.
Brans Army failing to make the optimal choice wouldn’t change my life.
If anyone should regret this, it was them—not .
"…That settles it, then. Swen, while no clear winner was decided, I believe it’s fair to say Parfalle was the more persuasive. It seems you failed to convince them."
I lowered my head, adopting the most humble expression I could muster, and responded in the most respectful voice possible.
"How could I possibly hope to win a debate against Lady Parfalle? I am simply honored to have learned from the experience."
"…"
Parfalle’s gaze toward was anything but ordinary.
…But for now, it seed I had managed to navigate this situation without issue.
Honestly, as long as I gained Airen’s favor, that was enough for .
With that, the debate concluded.
I slowly returned to my original seat behind Airen.
She was looking at with deep concern.
There was no need for her to worry so much.
To break the tense atmosphere, Lyn raised her voice.
"Our army’s primary objective this month will be the conquest of Valharat Castle. Everyone, do your utmost to fulfill your duties."
""Yes, understood!""
The soldiers' resounding voices echoed through the throne room.
Lyn then raised a hand and continued.
"Next, we’ll assign specific roles. I’ve posted the tasks for the palace fortifications, so make sure to check them. With that, we conclude this month’s strategy eting. Good work, everyone."
And with that—
My first monthly war council as a mber of Brans Army had co to an end.
***
After the eting, the gathered officers left, leaving the throne room much quieter, aside from the guards standing watch.
In the now eerily empty chamber, Parfalle paced with a troubled expression.
"Swen… How does that man know everything?"
She had done her best to keep her reactions hidden during the debate, but everything Swen had said at the beginning was correct.
The secret negotiations with Charam’s forces.
The quiet proposal brought to her by an envoy under the guise of diplomatic relations—an offer that had included a grand plan.
The invasion of Aleffel by Aishus was information she had received from that sa envoy.
And indeed…
Swen’s words had been convincing.
Why hadn’t Aishus already conquered those minor factions?
Rather than choosing not to, the more natural conclusion was that they could not.
If so, what was the reason?
Yes.
Up to that point, she had been sowhat impressed by Swen.
She had even started to understand why Lyn had taken such an interest in him.
That was—until Swen had said, "We must invade Serpina’s territory."
"That’s an utterly ridiculous suggestion."
Using an absurd proposal to throw one’s opponent off balance wasn’t exactly an uncommon debate tactic.
She still couldn’t understand how he had figured out the negotiations with Charam, but—his statent about an invasion seed nothing more than reckless bravado.
And then—
"Parfalle."
"Yes?"
Lyn, seated on the throne, finally spoke.
"What do you think? About Swen’s suggestion."
"You an… the invasion of Serpina’s territory?"
"Yeah."
Parfalle didn’t even need to think before she replied.
"It’s completely unrealistic. That’s why you cut the debate short, isn’t it?"
"…Well…"
Lyn didn’t seem particularly satisfied with that answer, but she didn’t argue.
"There’s no need to concern ourselves with the north right now. I, Parfalle, will ensure that Valharat Castle falls into your hands, my lord."
"…"
Lyn didn’t respond.
Instead, she found herself lost in thought.
Why did I cut the debate short?
She knew full well that Swen wasn’t ordinary.
After all, this was a man who had even hinted at knowledge of Serpina’s potential attack on Brans Army.
That suggested that he might have informants in the north.
It was impossible to know for sure, but what if he had so ans of gathering intelligence on the region?
Without so sort of ‘miraculous’ insight, there was no way he could have forced her into that humiliating ceasefire agreent.
Which ant that—even though his claim seed absurd—what if it was actually possible?
That thought lingered in her mind.
But—
Swen hadn’t proposed his own idea.
Strictly speaking, he had been advocating for Airen’s strategy.
If Swen had won the debate and convinced the officers, Brans Army’s entire strategy would have been shaped by Airen’s proposal.
And Lyn hated that idea.
No matter how logical or strategic she usually was, whenever Airen Juliet was involved, her judgnt beca clouded.
Swen had accurately predicted that.
Of course—
Personal dislike aside, Lyn would have reconsidered if Swen’s words had been undeniably convincing.
But at the end of the day, wasn’t his ‘insight’ just speculation?
No matter how much she valued Swen’s abilities, she couldn’t simply trust him without proof.
Swen wasn’t the only officer in her army.
And he certainly wasn’t the only strategist.
Brans Army already had multiple advisors, including Parfalle.
Even so—
Swen had an uncanny ability to see things others couldn’t.
That was sothing Lyn couldn’t ignore.
"Just in case sothing happens in the north, I should station so troops there."
She wouldn’t send as many as Airen had suggested.
But diverting a fraction of the forces ant for the Aishus campaign wouldn’t hurt.
Now that she thought about it…
Swen was currently living in the sa residence as Airen.
The two of them hadn’t said anything about it.
That ant they were getting along well enough.
She had considered intervening if Airen had co to her complaining or if Swen had found the arrangent unbearable.
But if they hadn’t said anything, well—
"…Fine."
Lyn was an incredibly stubborn woman.
If neither of them ca to her, she had no reason to change things.
This firm, inflexible nature was part of what made her so charismatic as a leader.
But it also ant that she occasionally made rigid, illogical decisions.
And because of that—her perception of Swen was shifting.
"Swen… Are you soone I can claim as my own? Or soone I never will?"
If he couldn’t be hers in the end—
Then—
Lyn absentmindedly twisted a lock of her hair.
A habit of hers whenever she had too many thoughts racing through her mind.
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