Became a Strategist with a 100 Intelligence and 100\% Accuracy-Chapter 238: Retreat to the Border, and What Follows (3)

The royal hall of Alkanwood Castle.

Seated in the lord’s chair, Chel wore a rare, full-faced smile of satisfaction.

"So? You’re saying we successfully drove them back?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Well done."

The bitter humiliation of his crushing defeat at Valharat Castle—

Not even for a single moment had Chel forgotten that disgrace.

Come to think of it, Airen was there.

Looking back, it was from the moment Airen betrayed them that the Brans Army began to collapse.

That was also when his once-brilliant younger sister started to lose her mind.

Rumors claimed that she no longer belonged to that faction, but that didn’t mean he could coexist under the same sky as Aishus forever.

In the end, it was only a matter of timing.

Eventually, he would have to cross blades with Aishus as well.

Of course, at this stage, he didn’t hold much of a personal grudge against them.

If anything, it was thanks to Lyn’s madness that he had been able to take his rightful place as ruler.

A life dedicated solely to battle wasn’t bad, but now that he had even a sliver of power in his grasp, he could finally understand why people were driven to madness over it.

"Good. What’s the status of the prisoner?"

"He’s monstrously strong, so it took some time to subdue him... but we’ve managed to restrain him."

Of course. Hernandorf Arisian.

Not even Chel had expected to capture such a high-value target.

Naturally, he knew the name.

One of the pillars of Aishus Army—the legendary figures among their ranks.

Epinnel, Emma, Hernandorf, Anima, and Yuri.

A man known for his sheer, overwhelming strength.

Ever since Chel had first heard of him, he ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) had been itching for a fight.

But he never imagined they would meet under such circumstances.

"Bring him in at once.

I can’t just keep him locked up forever."

Hearing the weight behind those words, the soldier swallowed hard.

Then, bowing deeply, he answered.

"...Yes, my lord!"

***

A strange atmosphere filled the audience chamber.

Soldiers lined both sides of the hall.

At the center, Chel Brans, his sharp features and blue hair accentuating his imposing presence, lounged in the lord’s chair, chin resting on his fist.

And before him—

Hernandorf, his body covered in wounds, knelt with his head bowed.

"Raise your head, Hernandorf Arisian."

"...!"

Slowly, Hernandorf lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Chel.

No—not locking eyes.

His glare was filled with pure hostility, as if he would tear Chel apart with his gaze alone.

Chel, however, only chuckled in amusement.

"You can stare at me like that all you want, but eyes alone won’t bring me down.

You’re not that much of a fool, are you?"

"Shut up, Chel Brans."

The moment those words left Hernandorf’s lips, Chel burst into laughter loud enough to shake the entire hall.

The soldiers could do nothing but lower their heads and glance at one another in discomfort.

"You understand what it means to be brought here instead of being thrown in a dungeon, don’t you?"

Hernandorf remained silent.

Chel didn’t seem to mind.

He simply continued speaking, his tone indifferent.

"That’s right, Hernandorf. It means that your fate depends on the choice you make today."

"..."

"Join me. Help rebuild the Brans Army.

I hold your abilities in the highest regard.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

If you swear loyalty to me and use your strength for my cause, I will hold no grudges over our past conflicts.

No, more than that—I will make you my army’s Supreme Commander.

I promise you the greatest of honors, by the name of House Brans.

So, will you live and carve out a new legend beside me?

Or will your journey... end here?"

Chel’s offer was undeniably tempting from a logical standpoint.

It was rare to see a prisoner treated with such an extravagant proposal.

Even if Hernandorf was an S-rank general, he had been a direct enemy of the Brans Army not long ago.

Even though Chel’s forces had separated from the original Brans Army, he couldn’t control the sentiments of his men.

It was a bold offer, one that carried the risk of internal backlash.

"...That’s all you have to say?"

"That’s all."

"..."

Hernandorf slowly closed his eyes.

And he repeated Chel’s last words to himself.

"Live and carve out a legend... or end my journey here."

A faint, bitter smile crossed his lips.

If his comrades saw him now, they would be shocked.

He was never one for visible emotions.

Emma, especially, would make a huge fuss.

She’d probably spend an entire day gawking—So even he can make that kind of face, she’d say.

Yuri. Epinnel. Anima.

And... Emma.

I’m sorry.

He had wanted to stand beside them and witness the Aishus banner flying above every castle in the continent.

But now—

"..."

Chel studied his face in silence.

There was no longer any hostility in Hernandorf’s expression.

Instead, his face carried only one emotion—indifference.

As if to ask, What kind of response did you expect from me?

"...Hah."

Chel understood the answer immediately.

He had thought it was unlikely, but he had hoped.

If Hernandorf joined him, perhaps he could finally deal with Carlints Brans once and for all.

But Chel saw it clearly now.

The eyes of a true warrior.

The eyes of a hunting dog that would never betray its master.

Having a man like that under his command would have been reassuring—

But having that man serve his enemy instead was the worst possible outcome.

A shame, but this is the end.

If Chel had received formal political training, perhaps he would have handled this differently.

He might have manipulated Hernandorf as Serpina would, extracting maximum benefit before disposing of him.

But Chel was, first and foremost, a warrior.

In battle, the victor claimed glory.

And the loser—

"Soldier, step forward."

"Y-yes, my lord!"

A soldier moved to stand beside the bound Hernandorf.

"Behead him. Have his head displayed on the castle walls."

"Yes, my lord!"

Even upon hearing those words, Hernandorf did not react.

No shock, no fear—only a quiet sigh.

Not despair, not terror.

Only regret.

Regret that he would not see it through to the end.

But perhaps it was for the best.

Among the five of them, he was the least valuable.

Compared to the tactical mind of Anima, the versatile skills of Emma and Epinnel, or the leadership of Yuri—

He was just a man with strength.

His only wish, his final hope—

Please.

Please... don’t let Yuri make the wrong choice out of vengeance.

That was all he could do now.

He had no power left.

...I leave the rest to you, Yuri.

Hernandorf allowed the soldier to lead him forward.

Into the darkness, into the place from which none returned—

He calmly accepted his fate.

That day—

One of the five stars of the Aishus Army fell to the earth.

***

The royal hall of Zelin Castle.

"What do you think? Would 8,000 gold be enough? We should probably offer at least 10,000 gold to ensure a safe return, don’t you think?"

"That should be fine. Unlike Serpina, gold is something Chel values very dearly."

Yuri and Anima, of course, were preparing for negotiations to arrange the return of their captured comrade.

Not once had they considered—not even for a second—that one of the five would die.

It had never crossed their minds.

So naturally, they assumed Hernandorf was simply imprisoned.

Their only concern was retrieving him as soon as possible.

Even from Anima’s perspective, Chel was impulsive and hot-tempered, but—

There were far too many ways to use someone like Hernandorf rather than simply executing him.

From a rational standpoint, Anima’s reasoning should have been correct—

"Then I’ll send the message. Who should we send as our envoy?"

"Schultz or Elysia. If neither of them can go, I don’t mind going myself."

As they discussed the situation—

"My... my lord!"

A soldier burst into the hall, face pale with urgency.

"What is it?

Are they launching another attack already?"

Even with Chel’s reckless nature, Yuri had not expected an immediate invasion of Zelin Castle.

And yet—

"It’s...."

The sheer shock in the soldier’s expression unsettled them.

Yuri and Anima both felt it immediately—

A creeping, inescapable dread.

Not a rational deduction—

Something more primal.

"Instinct."

"...What happened?"

The soldier hesitated, struggling to find his voice.

Finally, barely managing to choke out the words—

"General Hernandorf...."

"Hernandorf? What about him? What happened? Speak!"

"..."

The soldier’s head fell, shoulders trembling as silent tears fell to the ground.

And in that moment—

Yuri and Anima’s eyes went wide.

"...!!!!!"

No.

Yuri shot up from his seat, rushing to the soldier, hands gripping his shoulders in desperation.

"What happened? Tell me! Your lord is asking you to speak!"

"T-The General... he..."

Anima clenched her fists, forcing back the tears threatening to spill.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tilting her head back toward the sky.

No....

That day—

The day she had suffered a crushing defeat at Serpina’s hands due to her own mistake—

The day Hernandorf had fought alone against countless enemies just to save her—

That memory burned in her mind.

For both Anima—

And Yuri—

The cruelest truth had arrived—

Without warning.

"...He is dead."