The moment I stood before Parphale, a message suddenly appeared before my eyes!
[Which command will you choose?]
And there were 1:1 debate commands floating right in front of me, and with the power of Divinity 100, I was about to crush my opponent—
—but of course, nothing that ridiculous happened.
If it had, a status window would’ve popped up when I arrived here, right?
In the game, Divinity was the most crucial stat in 1:1 debates. Just like how a commander with high Martial Arts/Force could slaughter one with lower stats, the basic mechanism here was that a commander with higher Divinity would send those with lower Divinity on sightseeing tours by bus. But this wasn’t some intricately designed game—it was a simple classic.
However, since the game world has become reality, even with my Divinity 100, saying something like “Hmmm, indeed…” won’t make my opponent’s health bar drop while they tremble uncontrollably. I actually have to persuade them.
So—what I needed to use wasn’t my Divinity stat.
It was the truths only I could know after playing this game for 10,000 hours—the rules of this world. And striking at moments where they’d think, “How does he know this?”
That’s where the battle would be decided.
My weapons were those two points.
This isn’t the Lunarien Army. There’s no one here who’ll blindly believe my arguments like Luna did.
To make my story convincing, I had to show them knowledge they thought I couldn’t possibly have.
‘It’s about creating opportunities.’
At that moment, Parphale looked at me with a gentle tone.
“You may go first if you wish.”
I gave her a slight nod for allowing me the first move, then began.
“Invading the Aishias Army at this point isn’t a very good method.”
“Could you explain why?”
“Before I give my reasons, I’d like to ask Parphale-sama—and respectfully inquire of our esteemed Lord as well.”
As I said this, I glanced over Parphale’s shoulder—at Lin seated on the throne, watching with an interested expression. She was smiling. Fortunately, she didn’t seem upset.
Then it should be fine to continue.
“What has been the reason for not attacking the eastern Aishias Army until now?”
“…I’ll answer that for you. It’s because we haven’t had the opportunity.”
“What do you mean by ‘opportunity’?”
“As you know, the Aishias Army possesses considerable national power. They have many talented commanders despite their small territory, and they boast a large number of soldiers fitting the population of the prosperous land of Falahart. Even though their territory is small, attacking them would require us to risk other fronts.”
I nodded at her words.
“Yes. I completely agree with Parphale-sama’s opinion. But that’s precisely why I ask—why are you advocating for an attack on Falahart Castle now?”
“Because attacking Alepel Army will inevitably create a gap for us to exploit.”
“Is that all? I believe the Aishias Army has enough strength to attack Alepel Army and still withstand our forces.”
“I wouldn’t have proposed it if that was all.”
With a hint of confidence, she continued.
“…As I mentioned earlier, we’ve encountered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
An opportunity has come.
Rephrasing it means that without this opportunity, invading would be too difficult.
And given the current situation, the only possible opportunity is external interference.
When I heard this, my mind raced.
Iren said Charan Army came here to present money. In this game, handing over money voluntarily has a 99% chance of being part of the [Betrayal] strategy.
Though it wasn’t a result of my Divinity 100 brain, it was something I knew from playing 10,000 hours of the game.
“There are plans to brief everyone, including our Lord, once a decision is made… but I can’t disclose specifics yet.”
Her added statement further confirmed my suspicions.
Of course, she couldn’t say it now. How could she announce in front of so many people that “Charan Army will attack the rear of our army in coordination with us”?
She was Brance Army’s strategist. Even if her explanations were vague, her proven track record naturally earned her trust. Much like how Cain and Tifa gradually began trusting me during my time in the Lunarien Army. Moreover, since she promised to reveal her plans later, she must seem far more trustworthy to the audience than I ever could under Luna.
Then…
The person I need to sway isn’t the audience or Lin.
It’s the planner of this strategy standing right in front of me—the purple-robed strategist, Parphale.
I deliberately put on an expression as if I knew something.
Looking incredibly wise, as if I had some grand strategy.
Smirking slightly, I spoke with utmost calmness.
“Parphale-sama, might you be considering a coordinated attack?”
“A coordinated attack?”
“To be specific, are you thinking of forming a secret alliance with Charan Army for a simultaneous pincer attack?”
“……!!”
Great.
I didn’t miss it.
For a brief moment, I saw her pupils shrink.
Even though she quickly regained her composure, I definitely caught it.
The surprise in her eyes when she heard my words.
‘Gotcha.’
Well, what else could it be?
I continued confidently.
“If that’s the case, I must strongly advise against proceeding with the invasion. The ruler of Charan Army, Charan Masakuru, isn’t someone you can fully trust. If this plan wasn’t initiated by us but by them, I believe it’s highly likely to be a trap aimed at our Brance Army.”
“…”
This time, Lin behind Parphale nodded with interest, clearly focusing on my words.
“I have one more question. Did you also obtain the information about Aishias Army attacking Alepel Army from Charan Army?”
“…”
“If so, it’s reasonable to assume Alepel Army is in on it too.”
Upon hearing this, she remained silent for a moment before finally speaking.
“You’re quite assertive.”
Parphale said this while intensifying her gaze at me, clearly surprised that I’d seen through her thoughts.
“While it’s true that Charan Masakuru, and even Alepel Jaramka, aren’t trustworthy individuals, it’s precisely because of that that assuming they won’t betray us is appropriate.”
“Could you provide some reasoning?”
“…”
She took a deep breath before responding.
“In line with your assumption that we’re colluding with Charan Army, let me explain. Their main goal is to maintain their territories. They’re men without ambition who are satisfied as long as their power is recognized. However, the characteristic of such individuals is that if you can secure what they desire, they become one of the most reliable allies.”
In other words, her claim was—“As long as we guarantee their safety, they’ll follow our orders impeccably, so this can’t be a backdoor scheme.”
Compared to them, the leader of Aishias Army, Baranga Yuri Aishias, is a capable and ambitious ruler. If she gains control of Charan Army’s and Alepel Army’s territories, it would essentially establish a foundation to make her name known across the continent. These minor rulers wouldn’t be foolish enough to help someone who’s secretly coveting their castles.
On the surface, it sounded convincing—but upon closer inspection, there were plenty of holes.
Was she flustered because I uncovered the conspiracy?
Whatever.
I didn’t come here to work passionately like I did in the Lunarien Army.
Apologies to her, but I’ll just nitpick a bit.
“Precisely that point, Parphale-sama.”
“Yes? What exactly…”
“Baranga Yuri Aishias is an excellent ruler. Have you considered why Charan Army and Alepel Army still exist despite her capabilities?”
“That… that’s…”
Good. Flustered.
I pressed harder.
“It’s simple. Imagine you’re Baranga Yuri Aishias. Wouldn’t you consolidate smaller nations first before dealing with the powerful neighboring Brance Army to strengthen your base?”
Although Parphale remained silent, her agreement was evident—she bit her lip in frustration for the first time.
But she was clever. Thus, instead of giving her time to think, pressing forward was the right choice. After all, to convince the audience watching this debate, showing that “I’m in the lead” matters less than making it seem like it.
“So why hasn’t she done that? Assuming she’s not stupid, there must be a reason, right?”
“Reason… Do you have any guesses?”
“I do have a rough idea.”
Of course, it’s a lie.
But there’s no need to expose my hand by saying, “I don’t know.”
“Then please share. What’s your basis?”
“Recall your previous statement. Didn’t you yourself say, ‘I can’t disclose it yet’? I believe there’s a reason for that. And I’m the same.”
“…”
Since the other side is hiding something, I have the right to do the same.
Realizing what I meant, Parphale paused for a moment before asking.
“Assuming your opinion is correct, let me pose a question based on that premise. Suppose this secret coordinated attack proposal is some kind of scheme, and we’ve fallen for it. Wouldn’t it be a golden opportunity to turn the tables and strike the Aishias Army from behind? Since we’ve already identified their scheme, I would have agreed if you were advocating for using the scheme against them. But…”
Her voice became clearer.
Now I could feel she was genuinely engaging with me.
“Your stance isn’t ‘Let’s counter-use the scheme.’ Your agreement with General Iren’s opinion is—to send troops to the north to strengthen defenses. Is that position unchanged?”
“…”
Right, that’s it.
I came here to push Iren’s opinion.
She’s probing this side because the momentum seemed to be shifting in the earlier topic.
Strategists don’t get their positions for nothing, it seems.
Without the power of prediction, and knowing full well that Luna won’t blindly trust me, I somehow need to outtalk her…
But even the Divinity 100 brain only said “almost close” to the best solution—not “correct.”
What’s the difference between “it’s correct” and “almost close”?
‘The action itself is right, but the conclusion is different.’
Meaning this opinion is somewhat near the correct answer.
The existence of “almost close” in a system that predicts 100% indicates something significant.
It means Parphale’s “counter-use the scheme” isn’t a great option.
If it were, asking Parphale’s opinion instead of Iren’s would’ve resulted in “almost close,” given its relevance to actions involving Aishias Army.
Thus, organizing 56,000 troops to act against Aishias Army isn’t the most efficient approach.
Then, the remaining option is Iren’s suggestion.
Applying the same logic here:
‘Action itself is right, but the conclusion is different.’
Here, the phrase “almost close” appeared.
‘So, sending troops to the north… itself is correct?’
Judging that sending troops north aligns with the correct action makes sense, given the difficulty in arguing against strengthening defenses.
Then, let’s assume sending troops north is the correct conclusion.
There are only two things you can do with the troops:
Either fortify defenses or gather them for an attack.
And—
‘…!’
Realizing this, cold sweat trickled down my spine.
Based on my near-deduction—if reinforcing defenses isn’t the correct answer but is “close,” then the correct answer must be…
An unexpected compass result.
But I know this compass reveals the truth.
I slowly opened my mouth.
“…We must send troops to the north. I still support that opinion. However—”
“So, you’re advocating for defense? I have much to say about that. Currently, including the forces building fortresses, the number of northern troops alone—”
“Parphale-sama, please forgive my rudeness. I merely wish to convey that my argument isn’t finished.”
Interrupting her, Parphale acknowledged my interruption with a nod.
“…I apologize. I seem to have gotten carried away. Please continue.”
“It’s correct to send troops north. But we shouldn’t focus solely on defense. No, sending troops solely for defense isn’t enough.”
“…Pardon?”
At my words, Parphale was surprised.
Lin, who had been observing the debate leisurely, was surprised.
All the vassals within earshot were shocked.
Even Iren, the planner of this strategy, was surprised.
But.
Eliminating everything predicted to be “incorrect” leaves only the answer.
No matter how absurd, it’s the answer.
The dazzling answer foreseen by Divinity 100 transcends logical reasoning.
I wielded this absolute “answer” as my weapon and clashed with her again.
“We must gather our forces in the north and invade Serpina Army’s territory.”