My Past Life is Riddled With Many Sins - Chapter 117

“We? Since when were you and I the type to be called that?”

Bliss sneered, running his fingers along the blade’s edge. Lennon, unfazed by the sarcasm, responded smoothly.

“I’m not thrilled about it either. But if you want to protect Miss Heather, you and I will need to become a we.”

At that loaded statement, Bliss narrowed his eyes. Whether he liked Lennon or not, he acknowledged his abilities as a strategist.

He was sharp when it came to scheming and problem-solving, which was why Bliss had assigned him the task of uncovering who had tried to harm Regina. Of course, Bliss fully intended to take credit for Lennon’s work when the time came.

But that plan only worked because he trusted Lennon’s competence.

For someone like Lennon to suggest collaboration, the threat had to be significant. Only two entities came to mind for Bliss. The first was the imperial family—unquestionably the most powerful force on the continent. The second…

Lennon gave a subtle shake of the cigarette between his fingers.

“We might have to make an enemy of the church.”

* * *

It was time for yet another theology class, a mandatory subject that Regina had no choice but to attend.

‘Why is theology mandatory, while swordsmanship is optional?’

God is far away, but fists are near.

Sitting with that unresolved question in her heart, she turned her attention to the theology professor.

Like it or not, the church’s influence was bound to peak during her lifetime. Its power was crucial in the fight against the demon realm. Only paladins were immune to demon poison, and only priests could purify it.

The church alone decided where priests were stationed, which meant they controlled who was saved first when people became tainted.

That was power. The power to make decisions. And if war broke out with the demonic realm, the church’s authority would soar beyond imagination, with the current pope sitting at its pinnacle. Known for possessing extraordinary divine power, he was said to be one of the most exceptional popes in history.

‘The imperial family… would be forced to crawl on all fours if the pope ordered it.’

Maybe not literally, but that’s how much the balance of power would shift. Just as the Crown Prince could summon her at whim and treat her as he pleased, the pope could one day command the Emperor in the same way.

Feeling unsettled by the thought, Regina gripped her quill tighter.

‘It can’t be helped.’

Imperial power decreases, followed by the church’s increase; the imperial power increases and the church’s decrease, is a cycle destined to repeat endlessly.

Eventually, neither the Enfield imperial family nor the church will endure. That is the nature of power. It never stays stagnant and always shifts toward new sources of influence. The struggle to retain power is akin to trying to catch the wind with your bare hands—an impossible task.

Though Regina could now reflect on these matters with a sense of detachment, even Yekarna had clung desperately to her power until her death. The only reason she could be this composed in her current life was because there was no hope of regaining that power now.

‘Of course, if we manage to stop the demon realm’s invasion, the balance of power might not shift as drastically…’

Devilkins had already infiltrated the Empire’s high society. How many had crossed over into this realm? Could the Crown Prince’s strategy of meticulously sweeping through the Empire really solve the problem?

Regina didn’t think the Crown Prince’s approach was wrong. If you have a broom, you’ll start by sweeping your own front yard. Your neighbor’s yard can wait.

‘The real issue was that they only had one broom.’

The magic tower had developed a potion to distinguish between demons and humans, but limited resources made mass production impossible.

And as capable as Regina’s abilities were, she was still just one person. Even if she quit the academy and worked as the Crown Prince’s sniffer dog day and night, she couldn’t cover the entire continent.

Perhaps the Crown Prince allowed her to stay at the academy precisely because he understood this. After all, if he wished, he could drag her around at all hours, academy or not. Or maybe the threat from the demonic realm hadn’t escalated enough for him to resort to such drastic measures…..

Regina decided not to think about it further. Only the Crown Prince knew his own true intentions. What mattered was that he had already secured his place as the next Emperor, surpassing all rivals.

‘With any luck, even in the worst-case scenario, the Emperor won’t be crawling on all fours with a collar at the pope’s feet…’

The depressing thought made her grimace. The most optimistic scenario she could imagine was still bleak.

‘I really don’t want to witness the greatest humiliation of the Enfield family in this lifetime. Hang in there, descendants.’

* * *

In the dead silence of the Dean’s office, Bliss broke the stillness with a sharp question.

“Are you certain?”

“Do you know who I am?”

Bliss scowled at Lennon’s retort.

Count Lennon Hartman. Officially, he was the wealthiest man in the Empire. In truth, however, he was the leader of the underworld, commanding one of the most powerful intelligence networks across the continent.

“If you can’t trust me, feel free to conduct cross-checks. You’re capable enough for that, aren’t you, Marquis Bliss Kysis?”

Lennon taunted, exhaling deeply on his herbal cigarette. Bliss’s expression stiffened. Every time he heard it, rage bubbled up inside him. Of all the noble families, Kysis!

He wasn’t even a direct descendant of Lennon Kysis. The original Lennon had lived a solitary life, leaving no children behind. By lineage, Bliss was a descendant of Lennon’s older brother—a great-grandson.

Still, the association disgusted him to no end.

Bliss didn’t have many complaints about his current life, but his complicated bloodline was a constant source of annoyance.

Ignoring the murderous glare Bliss shot his way, Lennon extinguished his cigarette in a portable ashtray. With slow, deliberate movements, his gloved fingers ground the ash into fine dust.

“Or perhaps, it’s time to stop playing Dean and return to where you truly belong.”