Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100% Accuracy

"Lord… Lord…!"

Beside her, Jinor spoke in a shocked voice, trying to say something.
However, Yuri didn't even turn her head in his direction as she responded coolly.
"What are you doing? Didn’t you hear me? I'll do as you say, so release Anima."
The envoy, upon hearing those words, responded in the same dry tone as when he first spoke upon arriving here—without any change in expression.

"Understood. I am pleased to see that we can communicate. I will make sure to convey Lady Yuri’s will to my lord. Then, I shall take my leave."
With that, Serpina's envoy slowly stepped outside. Jinor, still in shock, along with a few other officers who hadn't fully grasped the situation, turned their heads and scanned their surroundings.
‘What… just happened?’

If it had merely been a matter of surrendering territory… yes, that much he could have understood.
Handing over an entire castle, however, was an excessive price—even from a rational perspective.
Anima Ingram was an excellent general, but she was by no means an irreplaceable, once-in-a-generation talent. She was fiercely loyal, a founding contributor to Yuri’s rule, and someone her liege deeply trusted—one of the few in this chaotic era whom she could entrust her back to without a shred of doubt.

The land was certainly valuable, but considering the nation's current state, where maintaining three castles intact was already a struggle, forfeiting one—be it Raklein or Zelstrom—could still serve as a stepping stone for recovery.
That was Jinor's judgment.
However, surrendering an envoy was another matter entirely.

And it wasn’t just because that envoy was Swen—a man known for his sharp intellect and remarkable abilities.
To Jinor, Swen was far more valuable than Anima. No matter how others in this country evaluated him, that was a belief he would not waver from.
But even that wasn't the decisive reason why an envoy should never be handed over.

Even if the man in question were utterly incompetent, with no future potential, so insignificant that entrusting him with any meaningful responsibility would be a risk—he still could not be given away.
No matter how chaotic the world had become, what kind of warlord would hand over a subordinate who had sworn loyalty to them?
This wasn’t merely a matter of personal sentiment or morality.

Jinor did not deny the existence of values such as compassion, humanity, or sympathy. But if anything, he was the type of man who would exploit such emotions rather than use them as the guiding principle of his decisions.
He wasn't rejecting this course of action because he felt, "Even if someone is useless, it’s cruel to sell them out."
No—his judgment was based on the repercussions. If a ruler engaged in such behavior, how would it affect the morale of their officers and subordinates?
Even if the situation had been reversed—even if the demand had been to trade Anima for Swen—Jinor would have opposed it just as fiercely.

For that matter, even offering an unnamed, low-ranking officer in exchange would have been unacceptable.
A ruler—any ruler worthy of the title—was not a mere bandit leader.
"Lord, I understand that your heart may have wavered for a moment. However, you must immediately retract your statement. Call back the envoy at once!"

"……"
Yuri said nothing in response.
Jinor, his voice growing more urgent, continued,

"What are you waiting for? Summon Serpina’s envoy back immediately!"
"Well, but…"
"Hurry! I will take responsibility for it!"

Even as Jinor openly took a stand, Yuri made no move to stop him.
She knew it too. She understood what her actions meant.
And then—

"There is no need for that!"
A voice rang out from beyond.
It was Epinnel Rosenkross, the de facto second-in-command of the Aishus Army.

"General Epinnel!"
"Lord Jinor, forgive my rudeness. The situation has become rather complicated."
She approached Jinor slowly, speaking in a measured tone.

"Cunning Serpina has made it clear—if we do not accept this deal, she will execute Anima immediately."
"……?"
Jinor, having heard nothing of this before, cast a glance at Yuri.

She, too, blinked in slight surprise.
That alone was enough to tell him—Epinnel was lying.
"Strategist, I am speaking to you right now. Please focus on my words."

Epinnel redirected Jinor’s gaze toward her.
"It seems Swen has earned Serpina’s enmity. The envoy we sent is already in chains."
"So this is intimidation, then."

"Indeed. No matter what stance we take, we cannot get Swen back."
This translation is the intellectual property of .
"But if that were the case, why would she even offer such a deal?"

"What other reason could there be? It’s a test."
"A test?"
"As a major power, she is gauging how a smaller nation like ours will respond. Will we submit to her authority, or will we resist? This is how Serpina operates. Fighting back will gain us nothing."

So Swen had already been captured and was facing inevitable execution—
And Serpina was supposedly staging this entire test just to see how our army would respond?
Was she truly giving up land and wealth just to ask this question?
If the opponent in question had been Lyn Brans—who was paranoid and unnervingly erratic—Jinor might have believed it.
After all, Lyn had a history of making unreasonable, incomprehensible decisions.

Jinor had heard stories in his youth—how Oland Brans' only daughter was not a ruler to be trusted or followed.
But Serpina was different.
No matter how much people called her a tyrant, a witch, or a monster, there was a reason she was hailed as a Conqueror Queen.

The countless generals who had once served the imperial family now followed her not out of blind loyalty, but because she had proven herself—demonstrated her capabilities with results, not just by bloodline.
Even Jinor himself, who had refused to serve under her because of the brutal excesses she had committed in eliminating her own siblings, had never doubted her skill.
Would such a woman, someone so meticulous and pragmatic, truly offer a meaningless deal just to observe our response?

If she negotiated well, she could have taken an entire territory—why give up that opportunity just for this test?
And if she truly bore a grudge against Swen—
She wouldn’t have needed to go through any of this. She would have simply executed him outright.
As Jinor silently organized his thoughts, Epinnel spoke in a cold tone.

“Strategist, haven’t you often spoken about the means of survival for a small nation? This is no different. Do we, as a minor force, have any right to choose in the face of a major power like Serpina’s army? The only thing we can do is save at least one person. Surely you, of all people, understand this?”
“……”
She was an exceptional general, but at times like this, she wore her emotions on her sleeve.

Jinor didn’t hold it against her. If anything, he appreciated it.
It was easier to deal with someone whose thoughts were clear and readable rather than someone whose true intentions remained concealed.
Epinnel turned to the soldiers and officers, raising her voice.

“Hear me! Serpina’s army has unilaterally imprisoned our envoy and is now attempting to destabilize our morale with this absurd proposal! We may be powerless now, but we will grow stronger and one day have our revenge. Do you understand?!”
So that was it.
Now, Jinor finally understood why she had come here at this precise moment.

Yuri’s decision…
To any competent officer, it would be incomprehensible.
There would be backlash—no, it would go far beyond mere grumbling. Officers would resign en masse, and the very stability of the state could be shaken.

So they needed a narrative—
Something that made it seem as though there was no other choice.
And Serpina, whose name was already synonymous with cruelty, made the perfect scapegoat.
If a tyrant like her acted tyrannically, no one would doubt it.

This story would at least contain some of the unrest caused by Yuri’s decision.
In this country, the founding retainers held unparalleled influence over the government.
If Jinor had to guess, Yuri herself had probably never even considered fabricating a lie to get out of this situation.

She was the type to take responsibility for her own choices, no matter the consequences.
No—this had to be Epinnel’s idea.
From an objective standpoint, she was a valuable asset—someone who compensated for the ruler’s shortcomings.

But even so, this wouldn’t erase the impact entirely.
Anyone with a shred of intelligence would recognize that something was off.
And as Jinor watched events unfold, another fundamental question rose in his mind.

What exactly does Serpina’s army gain from this?
The idea that this was about personal resentment toward Swen… didn’t hold weight.
So if he looked at it from a purely rational perspective—

Serpina had willingly forfeited her chance to seize new territory?
Why?
To obtain Swen.

Serpina’s true target all along was Swen himself.
If—
If she truly understood his real abilities—

Then even he would have chosen to recruit Swen over gaining a castle.
And the moment that thought crossed his mind—
A thud.

Jinor felt as if someone had struck the back of his skull.
What if… all of this was exactly as Swen had planned?
Swen had the ability to see the future.

There was no definitive proof, and Swen himself denied it.
But the circumstantial evidence was overwhelming.
Every decision Swen had made so far had been correct.

He had made choices that could only be explained if he had foreseen future outcomes—decisions that no rational person could have made without knowing what was to come.
His thought process—his strategic approach—
It was that of someone who knew the results but not the precise path leading to them.

And from the very beginning—
Yuri hadn’t chosen Swen as an envoy.
Swen had volunteered himself.

He had said, "I’ll go."
Had he known all along? That things would unfold this way?
Would a man like him willingly march to his own captivity just to be traded away?

Of course not.
With that realization, everything became clear.
For Swen, moving to Serpina’s army was simply the most optimal future.

Jinor turned slightly, glancing at Yuri.
Even as Epinnel worked hard to contain the situation, Yuri looked completely lost.
And at that moment, Jinor finally understood—

Baranga Yuri Aishus…
No matter what happened, she would never be the one to rule this continent.
If there was one silver lining in all of this…

It was that Reika had been left with Swen.
If Serpina’s target was indeed Swen, then his companion, Reika, wouldn’t be mistreated.
This meant that Jinor could maintain a connection to Swen without having to enter Serpina’s service himself.

Reika would likely reach out to him soon.
When that time came, he would have an opportunity—an excuse—to subtly probe Swen’s true intentions.
And when that moment arrived—

That would be the last day he considered Aishus his enemy.
It was time to start preparing an exit.
There was no rule that said Yuri had to be the one to unify the continent.

If she was going to make foolish decisions based on sentimentality, then all he had to do was let go of her hand.
That was the conclusion reached by Jinor—the so-called Sage of the Continent.