Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100% Accuracy

Chapter 13

The Second Barracks of Brans, although officially designated as a recruit training facility, was far from an essential site.

The activities conducted there were limited to basic military training. The real transformation into soldiers occurred at the First Barracks, where recruits underwent rigorous curriculums. In reality, the Second Barracks served as a filtering mechanism, weeding out those unfit to fulfill their roles as soldiers.

Of course, given the times, even those who failed to pass muster—barring obvious physical disabilities—were forcibly conscripted.

In essence, the importance of this place was negligible, and naturally, those assigned to manage it held positions that could be considered dead-end postings. Among them was Airen Juliet, who had once been celebrated as a brilliant female general of the Brans Army but was now fulfilling her duties as an instructor.

The "Lady Knight" Airen Juliet.
With long, crimson hair flowing down her back and skin that shimmered pale and luminous despite prolonged exposure to the sun, she cut a striking figure. Her silver armor bore the proud insignia of the Brans family, symbolizing her unwavering loyalty. Her appearance radiated the quintessential image of a knight, yet there was an undeniable incongruity about her.

That incongruity lay in her figure, which her armor could not conceal. Her ample chest, firm and commanding, made it clear that she was not merely a knight but also unmistakably a woman. Her well-toned musculature further emphasized her physique, unintentionally drawing attention to her chest.

If gossipmongers were to witness someone like her assigned to such a mundane position, they would undoubtedly click their tongues in disapproval.

Though officially labeled as “instructor duties,” her responsibilities were limited to determining whether recruits passed basic combat tests. It was evident to anyone that Airen’s assignment to this post was a demotion stemming from the animosity of her lord, Lyn Brans. Yet, neither she nor those around her dared to vocalize this truth.

"That concludes today's training. Good work, everyone."

"Yes, ma’am!"

After what could barely be called “training”—a meaningless period of observation—Airen left the training grounds with an expression of calm indifference.

"All right. Another day of discipline."

Despite her demotion to a position where she was essentially doing nothing, she refused to let her body, honed through rigorous training, fall into decline. Airen harbored no resentment toward the lord who had sent her to this place. Instead, she dedicated herself to self-discipline, quietly awaiting the day she would be called upon again.

In truth, the injustice of her treatment was undeniable. Given her exceptional abilities, resigning from the Brans Army would have undoubtedly led to countless offers from various lords seeking to recruit her. Such propositions were guaranteed.

However, Airen was a born warrior with an unyielding sense of loyalty. Perhaps it was due to this nature that she refused to abandon Lyn Brans, the lord she had chosen to serve.

"Even if things are as they are now, one day she will need me again. When that time comes, I will prove my worth."

Just as she was about to leave for personal training, a voice called out to her from afar.

"Lady Airen!"

It was a man’s voice, belonging to the head of the Second Barracks.

"Good day, Barracks Commander. As I’ve mentioned before, you need not use such formal language with me. I’m just an instructor under your command."

While her official rank was far lower than his, the man instinctively understood that they were from entirely different worlds. He was an ordinary man, destined to end his life as a conscripted soldier, while she was the kind of woman who could lead countless soldiers into battle and claim glory on the frontlines.

"No, I couldn’t possibly speak informally to you, General Airen. But that’s not why I’m here."

The man handed her a letter.

"What is this?"

"It’s a summons. The lord… she is calling for you!"

“...!”

Airen’s pupils contracted sharply.

She called for me? Lady Lyn Brans herself?

"Finally, she recognizes your value, Lady Airen! Every day I’ve seen you training diligently in the back, and it pained me to see your talents going to waste. Surely, the lord assigned you here with a greater purpose in mind!"

"…"

To be honest, Airen had hoped, deep down, that her lord would call upon her someday. Yet, she hadn’t dared to expect it. She was fully aware of the animosity Lyn Brans held for her. Though the reason remained unclear, Airen could sense her lord’s dislike.

Still, as a warrior, she had remained steadfast in her loyalty.

"No. If I achieve enough, she will surely recognize me."

Lyn Brans was shrewd, cunning, and sometimes ruthless, but she was not inherently evil. Airen firmly believed that in these tumultuous times, someone like Lyn was far more suited to rule than a feeble and indecisive lord. Who else but Lyn Brans could stand against the tyrant Serpina, whose infamy plagued the continent?

"Understood. Please take care of this place in my absence."

"Take care? Lady Airen, you needn’t return here! I wish you success and glory in your endeavors!"

Airen exchanged formalities with the man before leaving the barracks. For the first time in what felt like ages, she made her way toward the castle where her lord awaited.

*

"My lord, Airen Juliet has arrived."

"Send her in."

"Yes, my lord!"

Lyn, seated with her legs crossed and a bored expression, responded dismissively.

Moments later, Airen approached, kneeling before her with her head bowed. In a solemn tone, she spoke:

"I, Airen Juliet, have arrived in response to your summons."

"Yeah, yeah. Enough with the formalities. I need you to fight."

"Anything you command, I will accomplish, even at the cost of my life."

Despite Airen’s display of unwavering loyalty, Lyn’s indifferent expression remained unchanged—a behavior that seemed highly irregular, even for a lord-and-vassal relationship.

"I want you to capture Zeilant Castle. I’ll give you 23,000 soldiers. Can you handle it?"

"Zeilant Castle…?"

Airen, while focusing on her discipline, had been keeping tabs on the surrounding political landscape. Zeilant Castle was the sole territory of the weak Lunarian Army. Recently, Carlints had led 8,000 soldiers to invade but suffered a humiliating defeat, one of the most disgraceful in the Brans Army’s history.

Twenty-three thousand soldiers were nearly three times the force of the prior invasion. Considering the presence of mercenary forces on the opposing side, it still seemed like a winnable battle.

"Why? Don’t want to? Then don’t bother."

"No, my lord."

Airen immediately bowed her head.

"I will ensure the Brans Army’s flag flies over Zeilant Castle."

"Great. Oh, and by the way, we can only provide a week’s worth of provisions. Resources are stretched thin. Can you manage?"

Lyn’s cheerful smile accompanied what was clearly an impossible condition. Conducting a siege with only a week’s supply of provisions? Considering the high difficulty of siege warfare compared to defense, the terms were outright unreasonable.

Nevertheless, Airen responded firmly.

"Understood. I will ensure the castle falls as quickly as possible. Please, do not worry."

"…"

Under ordinary circumstances, such loyalty would have been met with satisfaction. Yet, for some reason, Lyn found herself unable to warm to Airen.

There was no logical explanation. Sometimes, people simply disliked one another without reason, like oil and water. Lyn Brans found Airen repulsive on a visceral level.

"Fine. You’re dismissed."

"Understood. I will return with victory."

As Airen left her sight, Lyn twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers, lost in thought.

"I don’t like her, but her skills are undeniable… She’ll manage, won’t she?"

Despite her distaste, Lyn had no choice but to use Airen. It wasn’t personal—it was pragmatic. The shortage of provisions wasn’t a ploy to torment her but a genuine logistical limitation. With mercenary forces bolstering the enemy, Lyn needed a competent general to achieve victory within such constraints.

Airen Juliet, renowned as a master of siege warfare, was the only choice.

"Practicality above all. For the greater good."

Even with her expression locked in displeasure, Lyn resumed her campaign against Zeilant Castle.

****

Though the two mercenary corps had joined our Lunarian Army, it was clear that they were only subordinated to us in name. To call their members “soldiers of the Lunarian Army” would be a stretch.

While they seemed to have taken a liking to Luna and willingly pledged themselves under her command for now, the truth was that the loyalty of the mercenaries rested with their respective commanders, not Luna. The whims of those commanders could shift at any time, and this uncertainty made it imperative to recruit proper soldiers during peacetime.

"Conscription... are you certain?"

"Yes. I’d like to assign both Kane and Tifa to handle the conscription process this time."

At my words, Luna hesitated, deep in thought, and responded cautiously. Since there was no one else around, she addressed me formally.

"But the shadow of the typhoon still lingers over the people of our territory. Would this truly be acceptable?"

Conscription meant turning all able-bodied young men into soldiers. In essence, it meant taking away the very youths needed to restore the villages.

Still, it could no longer be delayed. We couldn’t rely on luck forever.

"Thanks to recent relief efforts, public sentiment among the people is not poor. In fact, if we don’t seize this opportunity, we may never be able to recruit soldiers at all. Even with the two mercenary corps, we have only 3,000 soldiers of our own. The territory will remain vulnerable to greater threats unless we act decisively. Please make the call."

Luna mulled over my words deeply before slowly nodding.

"If you insist, Swen, then we shall proceed with conscription this month."

Good.

There wasn’t much else for those two to do at the moment anyway. Luna always consulted me about what tasks needed assigning, and if there had been something else more urgent, my 100 Intelligence would have undoubtedly picked up on it.

And then—

"My lord!! Are you here!!"

A soldier came running in, shouting urgently. One might have criticized his breach of protocol by storming into the castle like this, but Luna paid it no mind and responded calmly.

"What is the matter?"

I examined the soldier’s appearance. More specifically, I looked at his arm.

As expected.

He was wearing a strip of bright red cloth tied tightly around it.

A courier.

Sigh.

In Garland Eternity Saga, CPU-controlled factions would begin their invasions one year into the game, or after four turns. At that point, if you played as a minor nation, enemies would pour in endlessly from all directions, turning the game into a defense scenario that felt more like a tower defense game than a strategy RPG.

And now, in this real-world version of the game, where such arbitrary time constraints no longer applied, the fate of a small nation—Defense Game Mode—was unavoidable.

"The Brans Army is advancing with a force of 23,000 soldiers to invade Zeilant Castle!"

…Fuck.