Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100% Accuracy

Arnel Castle's Royal Fortress

It is said that while building something is incredibly difficult, its collapse can happen in an instant. The Brans territory, which Oland Brans had carefully established with impeccable timing and a solid foundation, began to fall apart one by one the moment the border was breached, without a chance to recover.
"Lord! Serold Castle and Jogeu Castle have fallen to Serpina’s forces! The temporary northern defense commander, Rashion, has surrendered and joined Serpina's army!"
Hearing the messenger's report, Parfalle sat down in front of the throne, offering advice to Lyn, who was sitting there in a daze, her expression grave.

"Lord, we must gather all the forces from the border and assemble them at Arnel Castle immediately. There are rumors that the southern forces are moving. It’s highly likely Aishus forces will mobilize again as well. You must make a decision quickly…!"
"……."
"Lord…!"

No matter how many times Parfalle spoke, Lyn gave no reply. Right now, she seemed like an empty paper doll. She didn’t respond when spoken to and simply listened to the news from the messenger without reacting.
'If this continues, it's going to be really dangerous...!'
Currently, the forces at the border were being crushed without meaning. Parfalle thought the best option was to abandon the territories and minimize the border line. If they could at least hold onto Arnel Castle, they could protect the western territories that had been secured earlier. The western land wasn’t the best, to be honest, it was barren and harsh... but if they lost everything, it would truly be the end. As long as the capital was preserved, there was still a chance. They could spread their wings again. Though half of their talented personnel had either died or surrendered, the core figures were still loyal to Brans’ army, weren’t they?

"Lyn, my lord..."
"......"
Lyn did not respond immediately but, after a long silence, she finally looked up, her gaze blank, and with a heavy sigh, spoke.

"Parfalle."
"Yes...?"
"What... did I do wrong?"

And then, she began to bite her nails harshly. As her fingers, already cracked and battered, drew blood again, it dripped down her fingertips.
"I... I don’t think I did anything to deserve this... Where did it all go wrong? Why... why are we being pushed back like this...?! Why...? What about my brothers...?! What happened to my brothers...?"
"......"

Chel Brans was still guarding the eastern border with a body that hadn’t fully recovered. Carlints Brans... was still fighting at the northern border, but he was unable to stop Serpina’s forces.
"Why did this happen...? Why? I... I was supposed to be the one to unify the continent, right? I was never meant to end like this, in this small central region, right? Brans’ army... We are... We can’t end like this, can we?"
"My lord, if we want to keep Brans' army from collapsing, you must make a decision, even now."
"No!!!!"

Upon hearing Parfalle's words, Lyn stood up and threw the ceremonial sword that had been next to her onto the floor.
"This can’t be happening!!! We can’t keep losing! We are Brans' army! We are going to unify the continent!!!"
"......"

And then, suddenly...
"Ah. I see."
Lyn's eyes suddenly widened, and she began to laugh eerily, as if losing her mind.

"Heh... heh... hehehe."
Like a madwoman, she began laughing unsettlingly.
"Hey, you."

"Y-yes, m-my lady...!"
She turned to look at the messenger who had brought news of the castle’s fall.
"Come here... Come a little closer... you’re being so good... ♡"

"......"
The messenger, trembling slightly at Lyn’s incredibly soft yet chilling voice, hesitated for a moment. But in Brans' army, Lyn Brans’ word was absolute. No matter how high-ranking a general might be, they had to obey Lyn without question. There was no way a mere messenger could refuse.
"Uh, well… that is..."

The messenger hesitated, then carefully approached Lyn.
"Good... come closer..."
"......"

Shaking uncontrollably, the messenger barely managed to get close to Lyn.
"Wh-what... is the matter?"
"...It's nothing..." Lyn responded softly, her voice almost a whisper, but there was an eerie, unsettling calmness to it. "Heh... ♡"

She placed her hand gently on the messenger's face, trailing it along his cheek with a faint, chilling touch. Then, in a lightning-fast motion, she grabbed the ceremonial sword that had fallen to the ground and drew it with a swift, practiced hand.
"My... my lord...?"
And then—

Shink!
"Ugh...!"
In front of Parfalle, the sword was plunged straight into the messenger’s abdomen.

"My... lord...? W-why...?"
Lyn glared at the messenger, who was bewildered and gasping in pain. Her cold, dead eyes bore into his. There was no emotion in her gaze, no life—just emptiness.
"You... you're the one sent by Airen Juliette, aren't you? Did you really think you could deceive me?"

Lyn’s voice was filled with mania as she shouted toward the fortress.
"We’re not going to lose like that! Even if you try to deceive me with fake news, it won’t work! Foolish bastard, you think I wouldn’t see through your lies?! You, a mere soldier, trying to play me with your red-haired traitor’s plot?!"
"The... the..."

Thud.
The messenger, unable to say another word, collapsed where he stood. Blood gushed from his abdomen, staining the floor. His pained, desperate gasps gradually faded into silence as the room fell eerily still.
‘This... this can’t be happening…’

Parfalle watched in stunned silence, his expression frozen in disbelief. Lyn’s mental state was in far worse shape than he had imagined. Was she so consumed by her thirst for revenge against Airen that she had completely lost her grip on reality? The brilliant, sharp-minded ruler who had once seen through the complexities of the empire and made decisive, wise decisions... was no longer there. In her place was a madwoman, killing a messenger based on her delusions.
"...Parfalle."
"...Yes, my lord."

"You need to be careful. That damned woman’s spies are still scattered across our army. Understand?"
"..."
Lyn smiled slightly, pulling the sword out of the fallen messenger’s body with a sharp, wet sound.

Thud, thud.
As she wiped the blood off the blade, drops of crimson splashed across her pale skin.
"I don’t want to deal with this kind of mess. So clean it up, alright? Understood?"

Hearing these words, Parfalle’s heart sank. He began to question whether he should have acted differently—whether telling her to keep Airen as a neutral ally was a mistake. Maybe he should have insisted on her exile before things got this bad. But now, none of that mattered.
"Are you not going to answer?"
"Oh... I-I understand," Parfalle replied, his voice shaking.

"Good. You’re such a good boy, Parfalle. Now, go and tell my eldest brother. Gather as many soldiers as you can, and take back Rackline Castle from Aishus' forces. Do you understand?"
"...Yes."
Leaving the audience chamber, Parfalle sought out a general who had been waiting outside.

"Excuse me, what is your name?"
"H-huh? I... I'm Sillin," the general stammered, clearly trembling in fear.
The atmosphere in the castle was tense and chaotic due to the ongoing defeats, and with Lyn’s deteriorating state, it was no surprise that officers like Sillin were feeling uneasy as well. In the Brans army, Lyn’s word was absolute, and the situation was volatile.

Parfalle spoke with a serious expression.
"Sillin. I’m sorry, but can you do me a favor?"
"Wh-what... what kind of favor?"

"You can either send a messenger or speak directly to them. I need all the forces, including General Carlints at the northern border and General Chel at the eastern border, to return immediately to Arnel Castle."
"...Huh? Should I just tell them it’s the lord’s orders?"
"..."

Parfalle slowly shook her head.
"Please tell them this is the unilateral judgment of the state strategist Parfalle. I will take full responsibility for it."
"What? But, that—"

"Please. I will make sure that no harm comes to Silin."
Taking matters into her own hands without the monarch’s orders was a highly audacious act in this era. And given that she wasn’t a mere general but a strategist with authority over the nation, it was even more so.
Though someone with her level of authority would have the power to say she would take responsibility, that didn’t make it any less reckless.

Parfalle briefly thought that, at worst, her own life could be forfeit because of this. However, the downfall of the Brans army meant she would become the failed strategist of a fallen nation. Surely she wouldn't be able to rise higher than that.
Despite being somewhat human in her instinct to preserve her life, Parfalle was fundamentally a woman of great pride. She wanted to prove that her choice of Lyn Brans as a ruler had not been a mistake.
The only way to prevent the collapse of the Brans army was this—she firmly believed that if Lyn, the sharp-minded woman she knew, were to hear of her actions, she would understand.

"I’d like to go in person, but I feel like leaving my lord’s side right now would lead to great trouble. Please, I ask once more."
"...Ah, I understand. After all, as the strategist, it’s not something you need to ask, is it?"
"...Thank you. Then, I will leave it to you."

Guarding Arnel Castle. With a sense of urgency, Parfalle quickly began to think of a plan—anything to prevent the disappearance of the Brans army on the map.
That was the only thing on her mind.
***

The day after having a special dinner with Airen.
"Then, I’ll be going now."
"Mm. I’ll see you later."

After a light farewell, I headed straight for the Nighhardt family estate.
I passed through familiar streets, and upon arriving at the mansion...
"Lord Swen. We've been expecting you."

"Huh?"
The maid greeted me warmly.
"Lord Jinor is looking for you."

"Jinor? Why is he looking for me?"
Why would Jinor want to see me? Could something have gone wrong?
Did he figure out that I can’t even sense mana, let alone perform magic?

With a strangely uneasy feeling, I slowly made my way toward the parlor where Jinor was waiting. As I entered the room...
"…Huh?"
Reika was sitting on the sofa inside, and Jinor was seated in the higher spot, reading a book.

He acknowledged my arrival and spoke.
"You've come, Swen?"
"Yes. I heard you were looking for me."

"Sit down first."
As I sat, it naturally ended up that Reika was seated across from me. The odd thing was her behavior. She couldn’t even make eye contact with me and kept her head lowered, her face bright red.
What’s going on?

Could this be about some magical achievement? After all, Reika’s abilities had been growing stronger every day. If that were the case, this shouldn’t be a particularly tense meeting... So why was she acting so shy?
At that moment, Jinor’s voice reached my ears.
"Swen. Do you remember what I asked?"

"Which request are you referring to?"
"The one where you agreed to grant me a favor."
A favor. I nodded, recalling the promise.

"Yes, I remember. But I also remember that there are things I can’t agree to."
"I remember that as well."
Jinor responded in a rather stern tone, his usual demeanor. I couldn’t help but feel that Jinor was someone who would never make a joke in his life.

Had it been Cain, he might’ve said something like, "Why make a fuss over such things?" But that wasn’t Jinor.
Now that the topic of requests had come up, it was clear he had called me here for something.
"So, what is the request?"

I had been thinking to myself that if he asked me to show him some miracle, I’d have to refuse, so I was mentally prepared. But then, I heard those words clearly.
"Swen. Would you consider becoming my son-in-law?"
"...What?"

What? I was stunned and unable to respond properly. Jinor, seeing my blank expression, spoke with a completely serious tone, not a trace of jest in his voice.
"Swen. If you're willing, I’ll give you my daughter Reika and the name of Nighhardt. What do you say?"