The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 18

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 18
“If you need time to prepare yourself mentally, you’re welcome to stay in the carriage a while longer. We have plenty of funds for the rental.”
Arden shook a coin purse lightly.
His gesture was casual, but the purse that swayed looked quite heavy.
“Oh, I didn’t mean that I need mental preparation—I meant the higher-ups of the Order probably will.”
Those who’d pushed me into the jaws of death would surely feel as though the cursed doll they’d burned without a second thought had returned intact and untroubled.
Fine. Ruling through fear—it might not be such a terrible method after all.
Just as there was the Curse of the Mummy in my old world, if someone’s done everything they were told not to and disturbed the 3rd Generation Saint from her peaceful rest, there ought to be a price to pay for that.
Caritas, would it be acceptable if I took a few heads and began reforming the Order?
“They’ve probably prepared themselves thoroughly already. The Order—especially the Main Temple—has eyes everywhere, so news of our arrival in the Temple Territory must have reached them the moment we entered.”
From the instant I stepped out of the carriage, all eyes fixed upon us.
Our appearance drew not shock but rather a look of tired curiosity, as if to say, *So you actually made it back.*
There were eyes that widened in alarm, though—when they saw Wilson Junior in my grip.
‘There’s one just like it planted in the Inquisition chamber, so why do they act like they’ve never seen a mace before?’
As I adjusted my grip on Wilson Junior, Arden let out a short sigh as though he’d read my mind, and spoke.
“There’s a difference between seeing something planted in the Inquisition chamber and watching a person carry it about.”
“Good heavens—are you using Mind Reading, by any chance?”
I asked in genuine surprise at how precisely he’d guessed my thoughts, and Arden replied flatly.
“I can read what you’re thinking from your expression alone.”
“Is that so? I’ve never been told I’m bad at managing my expression.”
I shrugged.
My ex could read my face like a book. It was convenient when we were together, but once things soured and we broke up, that ability became unbearably irritating.
In any case, I was deeply curious how the Order’s upper hierarchy—those who knew the truth about Delheim—would react when they heard I’d returned.
Given that even Arden didn’t know about it, it seemed the lower-ranking priests knew nothing beyond vague rumors.
Those who knew the full story would probably give a far more spectacular reaction than the Headmaster Priest.
My feet felt light, half-expectant, half-delighted. I opened the door to my room for the first time in days. The familiar temporary quarters welcomed me. And then…
Rillet, discovering I’d returned safely, blinked her eyes from where she lay on my bed.
I made a request of Rillet, who rose smoothly from the bed as though nothing had happened.
“Would you help me organize my things?”
With an unaffected expression, Rillet walked over resolutely and began diligently organizing the luggage I’d set down without a word.
She seemed to think she owed me for the room space.
After making several trips back and forth with the belongings I’d brought from the Orphanage, I was utterly exhausted.
“I need to rest for a while. Surely they won’t summon me right away?”
I asked this of Arden from where I sprawled on the bed with the last load of luggage, and he nodded.
“I hear that Caliana arrived yesterday and is still recovering from her journey as well.”
He’d left just to fetch luggage and returned moments later, yet in that instant he’d picked up news of another candidate. His connections ran deeper than appearances suggested.
“So they’ll give you time to catch your breath. Don’t worry today—rest comfortably.”
*Are they taking time to confer on what to do with me now that I’ve returned?*
Arden, whether trying to reassure me or not, offered the faintest smile on his cold face, bowed slightly, and left the room.
Rillet, who’d been tucked away in the corner rolling only her eyes, slipped out just as swiftly as Arden did, as if my room had become a forbidden zone.
My gaze drifted toward the Dignity Maintenance Fund the Order had given me. There was so much that a few gold coins could go missing without being noticed.
The Independence Support Fund from the Orphanage was mere pittance compared to it.
Remembering that this pittance was all the freely-usable funds I had made me acutely miserable.
So I was to begin my life as a Saint from the bottom once more. Alone, in the very Temple I’d built up!
Caritas, if you truly wish me to set the Temple right, shouldn’t you be sending down a golden mass for me to use as a secret fund right now?
You’re not just resurrecting me to watch me suffer, surely? I built an entire national religion and elevated the name Caritas to such heights—what’s the point?
I desperately wanted to verify the hidden funds I’d stashed in my past life.
But those who’d thrown me into the jaws of death would certainly scrutinize my every move. I was afraid of what they might do if I made one mistake before ascending from Saint Candidate to Saint proper, so I simply gritted my teeth and closed my eyes.
Not forgetting to position Wilson Junior carefully against the head of my bed, ready to swing at a moment’s notice.
***
The moment Arden Howelin left the Saint Candidate’s chamber, the smile vanished from his face. With each stride, his Holy Knight Order cape fluttered behind him.
Arden headed for the Holy Knight Order Building, situated directly beside the Main Temple. It was natural, given that the Holy Knight Order belonged to the Main Temple.
“Arden, glad to see you returned safely.”
Johan Rothberg, the Holy Knight assigned to guard the other Saint Candidate Caliana, greeted Arden with a relieved expression.
“Your return took longer than expected. I worried you might have actually entered that village with the orphan girl.”
“You knew?”
At Arden’s measured question, Johan Rothberg groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“That’s exactly why I warned you not to enter the village. It’s classified, so that was the best I could do to give you a heads up.”
Johan Rothberg, nephew of Cardinal Rothberg, was the strongest candidate for the next Holy Knight Commander.
Hence, though it frustrated him, Arden inevitably received higher-quality intelligence through Johan than through his own channels. Arden forced his rebellious mouth corners upward.
“In any case, we cannot lose a comrade to something as trivial as a fake.”
It had become customary for the Holy Knight Order Commander to rise from among those Holy Knights who had served as the Saint’s guardian. Thus, the position of the Saint’s guardian knight was essentially a stepping stone to the Commander’s seat, and competition for it was fierce.
However, having candidates divided like this was unprecedented.
And so Johan Rothberg had been assigned as Caliana Grailton’s guardian—she who was already designated as the Saint within the Order—while Arden, a rolling stone with no backing within the Order whatsoever, had been given the task of guarding Siella.
More precisely, he was to guard her and monitor her. To watch for evidence that could have her branded at any moment as a heretical operative and referred to the Inquisition.
“Since the orphan arrived in one piece, they must have both entered the village. Why didn’t I just let them go into town and be done with it? At least then she could have faced death more humanely….”
Johan Rothberg spoke with feigned regret, then gave Arden’s shoulder a light pat of encouragement as he passed.
Without a word in reply, Arden left the building and made his way not to his own quarters in the Holy Knight Order Barracks, but somewhere else entirely.
It was a secret conference room located in the outer cloister of the Main Temple, not far from the Holy Knight Order Barracks—a room that did not appear on the Main Temple’s official maps.
In the secret conference room sat people of different genders, ages, and ranks. What united them all was that they were part of Arden’s eyes and ears.
His network was scattered throughout the Main Temple. That was how he gathered information.
The face of the one who had taught him that information was power flashed before his eyes for just a moment. A bitter smile crossed Arden’s lips, then vanished without a trace.
Arden pulled up a chair and sat, his face composed as he spoke.
“The Saint possesses genuine Divine Power.”
At those words, a low intake of breath echoed from all around the room.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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