Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100\% Accuracy-Chapter 302: Blind Spot of a Hardcore Player (2)

‘Right. From the perspective of ordinary people, it’s only natural they’d see things differently than I do.’

Ioline, who kept expressing concern during our patrols, wondering if something was amiss—

Serpina, who insisted that if an altar was being constructed, there must be a reason behind it.

They had one thing in common:

To them, this world was real—vivid, tangible reality.

And that wasn’t unique to just those two.

It was true for everyone but me, as absolute as water flowing downhill or the body needing sleep to recover from fatigue.

Which is why—unlike me, they couldn’t be certain.

That building an altar wouldn’t lead to anything at all.

In the game I originally played, building anything like an "altar" was just a kind of random encounter event.

If you constructed a commemorative structure to honor a fallen general, it might raise the loyalty of your officers, impressed by your sincerity.

But choosing the "build commemorative structure" option was generally ill-advised.

The amount of resources consumed, the drop in public approval and troop morale—

All you gained was a bit of increased loyalty.

If you were doing some kind of roleplay-heavy run, fine, I wouldn’t stop you...

But this was an old, outdated strategy game with limited immersion, and nobody actually bothered using that leftover script.

From the point of view of someone like Serpina or Ioline, there’d be no way to know that.

Especially Ioline—who didn’t realize that Yuri was the type to act recklessly when it came to those she cared about.

So of course she’d think, “Surely no ruler would waste this much time and resources on something meaningless.”

It was a reasonable assumption.

Serpina’s case was slightly different.

She knew better than anyone that Yuri was capable of irrational decisions.

And yet, she would still arrive at the same conclusion as Ioline.

All because of my foresight—my 100 Intelligence.

‘Since she knows I’m never wrong, the idea that “invading now wouldn’t be efficient” makes Yuri’s bizarre behavior the perfect explanation.’

If I were in Serpina’s position—employing a strategist like Swen—I’d probably think the same thing.

—Given the circumstances, the strategist with 100% accuracy says it’s not an efficient move.

—The enemy is wasting manpower and resources on a pointless construction project.

The easiest way to make those two statements fit together seamlessly?

Just change the wording of “pointless.”

If that construction project isn’t meaningless—

Then yes, invading now would be inefficient.

A clean, simple conclusion.

Almost elegant.

——But.

I alone knew that wasn’t true.

Yuri was, in fact, doing something utterly pointless.

So then why?

Why did my 100 Intelligence brain—declare this move inefficient?

‘......’

I naturally took a seat at a nearby chair.

It wasn’t until after I’d sat down that I realized Serpina had pulled the chair out for me without a word.

‘Just because they’re building an altar doesn’t mean it’ll enable some kind of magic.’

After the rise of mages across the continent, people had grown more willing to accept unexpected outcomes from unexpected actions.

Even Serpina, who typically didn’t act without evidence, had taken a cautious approach—so there was no need to even mention the others.

‘But still, the prediction says it’s inefficient. Inefficient. Inefficient... Wait, what?’

...Hold on a second.

I looked up and instinctively directed a question to the most obvious person nearby.

“Excuse me... Lady Serpina.”

“Speak.”

“When we say something is inefficient, that doesn’t necessarily mean the outcome will be the worst-case scenario, right?”

“Correct. A worst-case outcome would be one of many possibilities under inefficiency.”

“Let’s confirm something then. Could you ask me a question that’s roughly in the vein of, ‘Can we win the battle?’”

She didn’t ask what I was thinking or why I was asking.

Instead, she gave me a carefully phrased, to-the-point question.

“Do you believe our forces can invade the Aishus Army and claim victory?”

[It would require great sacrifice.]

‘...What???’

So sacrifices were necessary?

I’d suspected it might be something like that, and now I had confirmation.

That’s the inefficiency—

We could win, but not without suffering major losses.

So in that case, there’s no way we can just charge in recklessly.

...Wait a second.

“Lady Serpina, I’m sorry, but could you ask one more question? Something like—‘What must we do to minimize losses in this battle?’”

Honestly, this was a gamble.

Even if it was a combat-related question, I wasn’t sure if I’d get a response at all.

But I had to ask.

It was the missing piece in this mental puzzle.

“What do you believe we must do to minimize losses in this battle?”

Without any objection, Serpina delivered the question just as I’d asked.

And the response was—

[It depends on the will of the heavens.]

What?

“It depends on the will of the heavens.” That response meant... not someone else.

Me.

It meant the outcome would shift depending on what I chose to do.

‘Invading now isn’t efficient. The most efficient move is to prepare for war against the Aishus Army.

We can win if we invade now, but it’ll come with heavy losses.

So yes, it’s inefficient.

And if we want to avoid those losses... I have to act. Personally.’

A clear divide.

The stark contrast between how I see the world and how everyone else does.

A battle whose outcome changes drastically depending on how I move.

......!!!!

Bang!

I slammed the table without realizing it and shot to my feet.

It wasn’t until I’d heard the answers to all three questions that I finally felt like I could see the path forward.

And only then did I notice—standing right beside me, watching intently—was none other than the sovereign herself, Serpina.

“Ah... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s alright. More importantly, it seems something just came to you.”

“...Yes.”

Just barely, the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

A glimmer of clarity on how to proceed.

“Then will you share it with me? I’ve been dying to ask you since earlier, you know. Fufu...♥” freeweɓnøvel.com

In the past, I would’ve been flustered by her tone /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ and the subtle sensual undertone in her voice.

But right now, I was brimming with an odd sense of confidence.

I answered boldly, as if crossing a line.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Will it be enough to just feel the heat rising?

Let me make sure you’re thoroughly satisfied...

All the way to your deepest depths.”

“...!!”

Serpina’s expression cracked ever so slightly.

Then her face flushed red, and she whipped her head away.

That reaction... was delicious.

So this is what it was.

That’s why Serpina would sometimes say such things—

She was enjoying the reactions I gave her.

“W-Whatever the case... just tell me already. What do you think we should do?”

Seeing her flustered like that made me want to tease her a little more—

But right now, I was too eager to speak my mind.

“It’s nothing complicated. We’re just going to use everyone’s psychology.”

“You mean... take advantage of it?”

“To be precise, not their psychology—”

We’re going to turn their perception against them.

With that, we can arrive at the most efficient solution.

***

Some time later—

The altar was finally complete.

Well, calling it “complete” was a bit of a stretch.

Compared to the original plans, the end result was terribly underwhelming—more of a rough outline than a finished structure.

Due to various limitations, the scale had to be reduced significantly, but even so, it still occupied a vast area.

Despite everything, it remained an extravagant use of space and resources, far beyond what was practical.

The first thing Yuri did once the altar was up was gather the soldiers and pray to the sky.

"Emma... Hernandorf... If you’re watching over us, please grant us the strength to overcome this...!!!"

The ceremony drew a crowd—displaced religious figures who had lost their way in this age of chaos.

Ironically, all sorts of ancient religious rites that had faded into history were now being revived through Yuri’s wealth.

‘......’

Anima stood among them, having long since given up.

The only reason they’d even managed to reduce the scale this much was thanks to Epinnel’s intervention—

So in that sense, maybe it was a blessing that things hadn’t gotten worse.

Standing beside Yuri, Anima quietly lowered her head, watching as Yuri prayed again and again.

Emma. Hernandorf.

It seems... we’ll be seeing you both again soon.

We couldn’t fulfill our dreams, but at least... we’ll meet again, won’t we?

When that time comes... please don’t resent Yuri.

And don’t hate me either—for failing to stop all of this.

Drip. Drip.

Without realizing it, she sensed tears falling down her face.

Was this really the end?

‘I don’t want this...’

To spend the final moments of the Aishus Army on some ridiculous, meaningless farce—

Without even putting up a real fight.

If only they could reach some kind of agreement with Serpina, they wouldn’t have to end it all here.

But they hadn’t.

And now... this was how they would die?

Even knowing it was wrong—

Anima also knew something else.

That there was nothing left she could do.

Like any human pushed to the brink—

She found herself grasping for something.

‘Dear God...!’

Please... do not abandon us.

Give us a miracle—anything at all...!!!

And then, astonishingly—

—A miracle began to unfold.