Looking back calmly now, I realize how fortunate I was during the game days .

  Especially when it came to events.

  It’s no exaggeration to say that I could precisely optimize my strategies because I had advance information from the gods—aka the game developers.

  *"And that’s the end of it."*

  But in this reality, there are no such divine revetions or preemptive hints.

  No teasers about what enemies will appear in each event. No way to predict the next boss based on past event trends.

  Of course, there’s no announcement like, *"The event will start on this date!"* before an attack. No hints about enemy weaknesses, like *"We’re going with this attribute!"*

  When I think about it, a game is ultimately a world designed for enjoyment.

  *"...I really was blessed."*

  With the dragon zombies at the southern gate wiped out, the defensive battle in the shopping district came to an end. The people there roared with joy, celebrating their survival.

  It would’ve been nice if I could’ve joined in their revelry, but—

  *"It’s not over yet."*

  With those words and Lady Esmeralda’s smile, I found myself inexplicably dragged to the front lines. I was taken to the northern gate, where I had predicted the main force of the Stampede would attack.

  There stood Duke Edelgard, a named character I had only ever seen through screens in the game world, now imposing like a guardian deity—proof that he had been dispatched as the commander of this gate.

  *Wait, isn’t it weird for the head of a great noble house to take direct command on the front lines?* I mentally protested. But apparently, all the strategic successes I had orchestrated so far had been credited to the Duke, and he had been ordered by the king to oversee the final phase.

  So, rather than relying on deyed battlefield communications, it was far more efficient to coordinate in person. That’s why I ended up here under Lady Esmeralda’s escort.

  *Why? Why me?* I’m just a commoner—a civilian kid.

  Sure, I’ve got an adult’s mind stuffed inside me, but I’m still just an unusual child, right?

  As I made these excuses in my head, I also knew the truth: if a method to minimize casualties was right in front of you, of course you’d want to use it.

  I’d do the same if I were in power.

  Well, in the game, there were prideful noble types who’d let their arrogance blind them—refusing to rely on someone like me, convinced they could handle it themselves, only to cause massive losses before finally passing the baton to someone else.

  And then, of course, the *"brilliant character makes a dramatic comeback"* trope would py out.

  *"Your tactical instructions were solid."* *"We don’t need gambles in reality. Just efficiently and methodically eliminate the enemy."*

  But this time, I had a competent superior and no meddling idiots to interfere, making the whole situation incredibly comfortable.

  Top-down orders really are the best.

  With the weight of the Duke’s authority behind me, even the most stubborn nobles had no choice but to obey.

  Not that I was giving direct orders, of course.

  I’d rather not make unnecessary enemies.

  *"So, the Sage’s knowledge is no mere legend."* *"No, I’m not a Sage."* *"Then where did you gain this knowledge?"* *"Through effort, perseverance—blood, sweat, and tears."* *"...How mundane."* *"Because it’s the truth."*

  Though it was hard to call the situation completely safe, the danger had significantly diminished. From atop the ramparts, watching the dwindling horde of monsters below, we could afford to chat idly.

  The Duke’s authority was absolute. Honestly, if I’d had this much power in the game, I could’ve mobilized NPCs and cleared things much more easily.

  Barrages from ballistae, massive light spells shining like spotlights—

  And as a little extra, some *special* arrows.

  Not poison—that’s useless against undead. Just barrels of curse-breaking potions with ballista arrows dipped in them.

  Firing those under the cover of blinding light made quick work of the Ogre Zombies assaulting the northern gate.

  That was probably the enemy’s trump card.

  But, well… Undead are strong in their own way, but most high-tier undead are just walking debuff factories—what you’d call *"pure evil."*

  Removing the brain’s limiters, brute-forcing stats, and attacking in numbers? *"Are you kidding me? This is easy mode."*

  With the right meta, it’s a joke.

  Thanks to that, even the Duke had the leisure to question the source of my knowledge. Normally, in situations like this, people would be too desperate to ask—but when you can turn Goblins, Hobs, and Ogres into pincushions before they even reach the walls, you get that luxury.

  Sure, they’re fast. A few managed to climb the gates and walls, but we had enough soldiers to handle them.

  The undead’s trademark toughness? With overwhelming firepower from above, small numbers were no issue.

  *"So, the method you used to defeat the crawling dragon with my daughter, and now this strategy against the undead—are you saying these too are the fruits of your so-called effort? A child like you?"* *"With all due respect, Your Grace, do you really think book smarts alone would be useful in actual combat? Unfortunately, I don’t. It takes repeated, messy failures—learning from them—before knowledge becomes practical."*

  The monster horde was thinning. At this rate, we’d soon be able to tackle the dungeon at the root of the Stampede.

  *"..."* *"Something wrong?"* *"No. I was just thinking how rare it is for a child your age to speak so logically to a noble like me. Esmeralda, were you this articute at his age?"* *"Hmm, I wonder? As the Duke’s daughter, I at least made sure to maintain a proper attitude toward learning."*

  Truthfully, I never intended to help this much. At the end of the day, this is the heart of the kingdom.

  I figured protecting my own circle would be enough.

  But meeting Lady Esmeralda must’ve tied me to a fate where that half-hearted attitude wasn’t an option.

  I never expected to encounter a named character like Duke Edelgard like this. And because I didn’t want my actions to get others killed, I barely held back.

  From an outsider’s perspective, I must’ve seemed unnaturally unchildlike—but I understood and accepted that.

  Still, this knowledge of mine didn’t come from some nebulous *"Sage"* title.

  It was earned through tears, ughter, highs and lows—staking my life in the game. What I told the Duke and Lady Esmeralda about *"blood, sweat, and tears"* was the truth.

  If expining that made me look like I’d slipped up, so be it.

  *"Liberta."* *"Yes?"* *"Serve my house."* *"..."* *"I’ll grant you status and honors. Your knowledge is rare, valuable—and dangerous. Your actions influence others. Even I cannot fully grasp what you possess. And now I understand why my daughter has been so insistent—begging me to recruit you, to make an exception."*

  So, it’s finally come to this. I could tell from the way the Duke’s gaze toward me had shifted mid-battle, even through communications.

  *"..."* *"You’re sharp. You understand my words. And you know that reacting emotionally won’t help."*

  That’s why he’s making this offer. But I know better.

  Aligning with a noble house brings immense advantages—but also immense drawbacks.

  The game taught me that harsh reality, so I made it a rule to avoid getting involved with most characters—only approaching those I genuinely liked.

  *"...Sigh. If you understand that much, you already know my answer, don’t you?"*

  Letting out a sigh in front of the Duke was beyond rude, but he wasn’t the type to care about such things.

  *"Personally, I can understand—even sympathize with your feelings. But as a noble who supports this kingdom, I cannot simply let you be."*

  Hoping against hope, I tried hinting at refusal—but his *"you already know"* response shut that down.

  His reasoning was sound. I’d do the same in his position.

  *"..."*

  What to do… Worst case, I could flee the country. It’s not like I’ve committed any crimes.

  But I’ve grown accustomed to this pce, even fond of it. Staying is clearly the more efficient choice. That reality only narrows my options further.

  *"Liberta, don’t misunderstand. I have no intention of taking your freedom. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve realized you ck patriotism. You only obeyed my orders out of goodwill."*

  If anyone but the source of my dilemma had extended a hand, I might’ve been happy.

  All I could do was listen silently, tearing my gaze from the monster cleanup to look at the Duke.

  He, too, turned his eyes from the battlefield to me.

  *"If I displeased you, you might just leave the country with your close companions. That would be too great a loss for us."*

  His gnce flickered toward Lady Esmeralda. What followed wasn’t the face of a noble, but—

  *"More importantly, if I mistreated you, my daughter would hate me."*

  The troubled look of a father. Wait, after all that posturing, *that’s* his real concern?

  Ah, so Lady Esmeralda and the Duke were both scheming to recruit me, agreeing on the *what* but cshing over the *how*?

  *"Hmm..."*

  If I’d still have some freedom, being under the Duke’s protection might not be so bad.

  *"I can’t fulfill the duties of a noble’s retainer, you know?"* *"I don’t expect that."* *"I hate war, by the way."* *"Just help with monster threats. That’s enough."* *"I don’t want to be constantly burdened with requests."* *"We can negotiate that."*

  Unlike in the game, things were getting more complicated. But if I’m entering the academy, some noble connections are inevitable.

  *"Honestly, the uncertainty of what’ll be asked of me is the biggest concern."*

  Being used as a pawn in political schemes? No thanks. I have zero interest in diving into the nobles’ muddy world.

  *"Your wisdom—that’s all I ask for."* *"Esmeralda."* *"Father, there’s no point hiding it. While I won’t say I won’t ask for more, I see no need to conceal what I truly want."*

  The Duke’s motives were inscrutable—a man who’d long been entrenched in that world.

  *"...Liberta. What I say next must not leave this pce."*

  Even in the game, Duke Edelgard wasn’t deeply explored. A man who doted on his daughter but was ruthless to outsiders.

  That was the gist of it.

  No side stories delving into his past—just fragments from Iris Edelgard’s accounts.

  For such a man to say *"this stays between us"*? Trouble. Big trouble.

  *"The other three ducal houses harbor shadows of unrest."*

  *Oh great, now the other ducal houses are involved? What kind of mess are you dragging a kid into!?*

  *"Don’t make that face."* *"You’re telling this to a commoner child. Anyone would react this way."* *"I don’t see you as just a child."*

  If I pyed dumb—acted like some child prodigy detective—nah. I’d just get looks of pity for being delusional.

  *"Your wisdom could help suppress those ducal houses."* *"I beg you as well, Liberta. Please."*

  And with both of them pleading so earnestly… I’m not heartless enough to refuse.

  *"...I have conditions."*

  Mentally weighing pros and cons, I reached a conclusion.

  *"Depending on the terms… I’ll cooperate."*

  Refusal was never an option. But if I’m getting dragged in, I might as well make the most of it.

  That’s how I convinced myself.