Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100% Accuracy Chapter 70

I mulled over the prediction once more.

[It depends on the will of the heavens.]

I had seen this prediction before.

It didn’t literally an that fate rested in divine hands.

Rather, it was an indication that the outco of the battle hinged not on pure probability, but on my actions.

But… what did it an for the fate of a war to rest on my choices?

My intelligence was high, but my combat ability was abysmal. My leadership skills were probably low as well—those were qualities of a general, not a tactician.

Sure, a strategist guiding a battle to victory through sheer tactical genius wasn’t unheard of.

But in my case, the title of tactician was little more than a formality.

I was utterly incompetent in the art of war.

And yet, the result of this battle would depend on ?

To make things even stranger, retreating was sowhat close to the correct answer?

Two predictions—both infallible—yet seemingly contradictory.

I was caught in the middle, unable to find the connection between them.

That was when—

"Swen?"

Epinnel’s voice called back to reality.

She had no way of knowing I was lost in thought.

She was simply waiting for an answer.

I quickly composed myself and replied in a steady voice.

"Ah… yes, Lady Epinnel. I believe your assessnt is correct."

There was a slight delay, but I had managed to avoid any suspicion.

"Everyone, listen up!" Epinnel declared. "We are holding the fortress. Prepare for battle. Musel, Jayden, and Airen—I have high expectations for the three of you."

""Understood!""

And just like that, the decision was made.

Rather than following Jinor’s suggestion to retreat, the army would fight under Epinnel’s command.

"Return to your stations."

With those parting words, Epinnel dismissed the eting.

One by one, the officers left the council chamber.

Before long, only Airen and I remained.

"Swen? Is sothing troubling you?"

"Lady Airen."

She was one of the army’s most valuable assets.

In a battle like this, a single capable general could turn the tide.

If I failed to find the right answer… it wouldn’t be who paid the price.

It would be her.

"If sothing is weighing on your mind, you can speak to ," she said.

"It’s nothing. I must be feeling nervous before battle."

"I see."

She gave a small smile.

"Don’t worry, Swen. Even if it ans turning my back on the Aishus Army, I will protect you."

"Turning your back on the army? Soone might hear and misunderstand, you know."

"I don’t care," she said without hesitation. "What matters to isn’t the army. It’s you, Swen. Have I not told you? I live for you."

She wasn’t just saying this to sound dramatic.

Even during the eting, she had tried to intervene when Epinnel suggested a ritual.

I was still a recent addition to the army.

So might even say I was responsible for provoking the Brans Army’s invasion.

Yet, despite how it might affect her standing, she hadn’t hesitated to step in for .

The reason was obvious.

She believed that rituals—miracles—ca at the cost of my own life.

If the only way to secure victory required to call down another teor, she would rather choose defeat.

For her sake, I had to find the right answer.

"I feel the sa, Lady Airen," I said.

"Mm. …I know."

She smiled warmly.

Perhaps that was why—

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.

It was a sudden, impulsive action.

I felt her body tense slightly in surprise.

But then—she relaxed.

Her arms ca up to rest around my waist.

She didn’t reject .

She accepted into her world.

Her warmth grounded .

Reminded that I was alive.

That I had sothing to fight for.

For a brief mont, we simply stood there, holding each other.

Then—

"Swen," she murmured. "I’ll be heading out to take care of my duties. If you need , co find anyti."

"Understood."

With that, Airen left the room.

Now alone in the silent chamber, I took a seat and whispered to myself.

"Alright. Let’s do this again."

I wasn’t a genius tactician.

I wasn’t a master of strategy.

I was just an ordinary man struggling to survive.

But I could do one thing.

I could deduce.

All I had to do was eliminate the impossible.

And whatever remained—no matter how absurd—had to be the truth.

This ti would be no different.

I took a deep breath and focused.

There were two absolute truths before .

1. Retreating is "sowhat close" to the correct answer.

2. The outco of this battle depends on "the will of the heavens"—which, in reality, ant it depended on my choices.

Let’s break this down.

At first, I was too confused to think clearly.

But now, with a cooler head, I realized sothing.

"My choices" didn’t refer to as an individual.

The predictions weren’t made from my personal perspective.

They were based on the perspective of the Aishus Army—my current faction.

So this wasn’t about Swen making a decision.

It was about the army making the right move.

Which ant—

"Our army needs to do sothing. Either make the first move… or prepare for sothing the enemy is planning."

I reached into my clothes and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

This fortress was located west of Valharat Castle.

Which ant—

It was east of Raklein Castle, the easternmost stronghold of the Brans Army.

In other words, this fortress was within the area I had mapped before.

If we needed to prepare for sothing, the answer had to be in the terrain.

I unfolded the map and began ticulously analyzing the geography between Raklein Castle and Valharat Castle.

"There are more forests here than I expected."

Could they be the key?

Maybe we could use them sohow.

Or perhaps…

"…No."

I changed my approach.

This wasn’t the ti to think from our perspective.

I needed to think like the enemy.

"If I were in the Brans Army, what would I do?"

If I were Chel Brans…

If I were Parfalle, the Brans Army’s chief strategist…

What would I be thinking?

On what basis did they decide to send fifty thousand troops here?

I emptied my mind and focused.

If I were the Brans Army—

"…I wouldn’t send my troops here at all."

That thought struck like lightning.

Sothing about this entire situation felt off.

Why launch a sudden invasion?

To anyone else, it might seem like a trivial detail.

But to , it was glaringly obvious.

"They wouldn’t just send their forces blindly."

"Because I’m here."

"Because Swen exists."

I had faked miracles before.

And not just once.

I had done it while I was still in the Brans Army.

There was no way they had forgotten that.

And Parfalle wasn’t a fool.

She was one of the most brilliant strategists in the central region.

There was no way she would overlook sothing so critical.

Yet, she still sent an army.

Which ant—

***

"Raklein Castle."

There, Chel and Parfalle sat in private discussion.

The only thing between them was a single map, drawn with the details of the surrounding terrain.

"Strategist, I’m relieved to see you well after all this ti."

"I’ve heard the news. Our lord has ordered you to occupy the Aishus Army’s territory, correct?"

"That’s right. Knowing that you, Strategist Parfalle, will be at my side, I feel more reassured than ever."

"And I, knowing that General Chel will lead the vanguard, feel as if I’ve gained a thousand troops."

After exchanging pleasantries, Chel got straight to the point.

"First and foremost, the one defending the fortress is Epinnel Rosenkross."

Epinnel Rosenkross.

A woman known for her well-rounded abilities, widely considered the greatest general in the Aishus Army.

Parfalle was well aware of her reputation—one of the fad "Three Pillars of Aishus."

Among them, Hernandorf was the strongest in sheer combat power.

Emma was the most intelligent and politically astute.

And Epinnel was the one who could unite them both under her leadership.

If anything were to happen to Baranga Yuri Aishus, there was no doubt—Epinnel would be the one to take the throne.

That fact alone was enough to illustrate just how formidable she was.

"Our scouting reports indicate that they have around forty-eight thousand soldiers.

While it’s not a castle, it’s still a fortress—aning that as long as we bring enough siege weaponry and handle their forces strategically, we should be able to take it.

However, our lord has inford that reinforcents will be sent here as soon as the western front is secured.

I am torn on whether we should wait for those reinforcents or attack before the enemy has ti to prepare."

Chel fixed his gaze on Parfalle.

"Strategist, I would greatly appreciate your counsel."

"…Shall I speak my thoughts freely?"

Parfalle ran her fingers over the map as she spoke.

"No matter what thods we employ, it would be impossible to capture the fortress in our current state.

A full-scale attack is simply not feasible."

"Impossible?" Chel frowned. "Forgive , but I fail to understand your reasoning."

"Have you already forgotten, General? What happened at the northern fortress?"

"…!"

The incident in the north.

Within the Brans Army, it was known simply as "the ti stones fell from the sky."

And at Parfalle’s ntion of it, Chel imdiately understood what she was implying.

"Ah…"

"Betrayal didn’t co from Airen Juliet alone.

She had Swen under her command—a man of remarkable insight.

He was sharp enough to see through Aishus’ strategies, intelligent enough to counter them.

Rumor has it that in the northern fortress, Swen perford a grand ritual, calling upon the heavens to bring forth a miracle.

Now, if our army were to charge recklessly at the fortress and expose our entire force—

Do you really think they would simply engage us head-on?

Would they not attempt the sa ritual once more, knocking on the gates of heaven yet again?"

Chel remained silent, his expression grim as he listened.

"The exact chanics of his ability remain unknown.

Perhaps it truly is magic, as the rumors claim.

Perhaps it is sothing else entirely.

But from our perspective, there is no need to test it for ourselves."

"…Hrrmmm."

"Of course, this does raise the question—

If he truly possesses such power, why hasn’t he used it to attack us first?

But as I said, there is no need for us to conduct that experint on his behalf."

"Then what should we do? Are you saying we have no path to victory?"

"There is a way."

Parfalle’s finger traced the map back to Raklein Castle.

"In order to secure a complete victory in this campaign, we must launch an attack on the fortress.

No, to be precise—

It’s not the attack itself that matters.

It is the fact that we are launching one."

Chel, catching onto her intent, nodded.

"Then, what you’re suggesting is…"

"Exactly."

Parfalle nodded.

"The soldiers we send toward the fortress—"

***

"…The soldiers being sent toward the fortress are rely bait… aren’t they?"

I murmured aloud without realizing it.

After endless cycles of thought, questioning what I would do if I were in the Brans Army—

This was the answer I had reached.

Bait.

The vanguard force advancing on this fortress…

I couldn’t shake the thought that they were nothing more than bait.