In Leflina's eyes, Hel was intelligent and beautiful, had a will of her own, enjoyed financial freedom, and was even admired by professors from the Alchemy Institute. She had a bright future ahead of her—someone naturally worthy of envy.
As for Leflina herself, all that lay before her was a road filled with thorns.
She was nothing more than an underage girl, yet fate had already bound her to a path with no visible future.
After hesitating for a moment, she finally asked softly,
"Junior Lyco, you once said that without sufficient strength, it's best not to rashly push for reform. Then why is the Spark Society able to promote change now? Is it because they're essentially speaking on behalf of certain people in power?"
"That's exactly it."
Hel nodded. She hadn't expected Leflina to have been struggling over this question for so long tonight. After thinking for a moment, she answered seriously,
"The Ymir Empire itself was founded by merchants, and the surrounding nations inherited that same philosophy. The so-called 'new nobles overthrowing old nobles' is nothing more than internal conflict within the aristocracy. It's no different from ordinary political struggles.
But what kind of reform is it that you hope for?"
Hel smiled at Leflina and didn't continue, leaving space for her to think.
Following Hel's lead, Leflina began to reflect.
"What I hope for is that workers can have reasonable protections, that farmers won't starve simply because they can't get enough to eat, that nobles can't oppress ordinary people on a whim, and that the Church can't deceive the masses for profit.
But the reform I envision touches too many people's interests from the very beginning. Is that why you told me not to push for change lightly before I have enough strength?"
"Yes. Nobles don't want to lose peasants they can command at will, and capitalists don't want to lose cheap labor. As for the Church—once you shake their foundations of faith, they'll absolutely brand you a heretic."
Hel nodded with a faint smile. She wasn't surprised that Leflina could see this far. This was a girl with her own ideas—clever enough, simply constrained by her age and the era she lived in.
Leflina then asked, somewhat uncertainly,
"What if I only spread my ideas, look for more like-minded people, and speak up for ordinary folk? Like what the Spark Society does—pointing out social contradictions and offering solutions to those in power.
Then, with everyone's support, I gradually gain more influence and change the country step by step?"
"Spreading ideas alone would be difficult, but it wouldn't be a dead end. However, once you elevate those ideas to the political level, you truly step onto a road of no return.
Right now, the main social conflict lies between capitalists and feudal nobles. Ordinary farmers and workers haven't yet formed a unified force.
They can't contend with the entrenched old aristocracy or the rapidly rising capitalists. So attempting a regime change at this stage is doomed to fail."
Hel spoke slowly. Leflina reminded her of the Paris Commune from her old world—a correct revolution that arose at the wrong time.
This world was even more resistant to revolution. The existence of superhuman beings had practically welded the class structure in place.
The very establishment of academies served as the strongest pillar maintaining this system. Any child with superhuman talent would be absorbed into the noble class, leaving even more ordinary people destined to remain ordinary for life.
Even if they wanted to resist, what awaited them was merciless suppression.
In a world like this, the gap between superhumans and ordinary people was like heaven and earth.
Low-tier superhumans might still fall to overwhelming numbers—but what about high-end combatants? They were walking nuclear weapons.
Against crowds of primitive people wielding cold steel, a single gesture could wipe out vast numbers.
And yet Leflina wanted to go against the tide at precisely this moment—when capitalism was at its peak of development.
It wasn't hard to imagine the outcome. If Leflina truly led the proletariat to seize power in any country, what awaited her would be joint suppression by royalty, nobility, and capitalists alike.
Worse still, by harming the interests of the Church's grassroots clergy, she might even be branded a heretic outright.
This world was, quite frankly, absurd.
In Hel's old home, systemic change had been gradual. First, royal power suppressed religious authority. Then capitalism triumphed over feudalism.
An aging lion king would be defeated by younger lions, and in time, the victors would themselves become the old lion king.
But in this world, even a toothless old lion king could still pin young lions to the ground and grind them into dust.
The younger lions could only bow their heads, accepting scraps of benefit from him.
Until one day, when the old lion king suddenly died—only for them to realize that above him stood an even older lion king.
That was the reality of this world.
On the Southern Continent, discourse was firmly controlled by the Church, the three imperial families, and the remaining royal houses. The fate and development of nations rested entirely on their whims.
That was why the Spark Society always packaged itself as part of the noble class—trying to tear a large piece of meat from other nobles to satisfy their hunger, rather than daring to strike at the royal families who controlled the majority of resources.
Thus, if Leflina truly wanted to change everything, only one path remained.
She needed to find more like-minded people and spread her ideas—refining them until they aligned better with the objective laws of this world—laying the groundwork for future development.
As for what kind of preparation that would ultimately become… well, that depended on the future.
Perhaps one day, Hel herself would become the supreme powerhouse who unified the entire continent.
"You can try to spread your thoughts and ideals," Hel said, looking straight into Leflina's eyes, her tone grave.
"But you must never attempt to change the country before you have the strength to match your ambition.
In my homeland, there's a saying: political power grows out of the barrel of a gun. If you want to change this country, you must have corresponding strength—otherwise, you're just a lamb waiting for slaughter."
Seeing Leflina nod, Hel finally let out a long breath of relief. She truly didn't want to see her friend's head hanging from the city gates one day.
Just then, a slightly muddled voice drifted over from not far away.
"Gun? What gun? Is it tasty?"