The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 2

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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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Chapter 2
The first time I recovered my memories in this body was when I was thirteen years old.
My former self had emphasized so strongly that I should not exploit commoners but rather bleed the nobility and royalty dry—and yet these rotten fools were using orphans from the Orphanage under the Temple as forced labor under the guise of service.
“I don’t want to go clean the Temple…….”
“What are you saying, Melin! We must repay Caritas for the grace she has bestowed upon us.”
Of course, at that time I was without memories, so I endured the exploitation gladly.
This is why indoctrination is so terrifying.
The orphans were mobilized for Temple cleaning four days a week. That day was no exception.
I had been assigned to the Inquisition Court, where trials took place following heresy interrogations.
The moment I entered the Inquisition Court to clean, the first thing that caught my eye was an enormous Mace wedged behind the judgment seat.
The moment I saw that Mace—the one that the Third Saint had driven into place five hundred years ago before her ascension, left untouched by anyone’s hand all this time—I was seized by a sudden, violent compulsion that wrapped around my mind.
As if possessed, I approached and gripped the Mace, and the instant light burst forth from it, the memories of my days as the Third Saint came flooding back.
The moment I recovered my past memories, the first words that left my mouth were—
“What kind of damned bastards are these!”
—For I was now a living witness to the exploitation being perpetrated by this corrupted Temple.
With artworks and sculptures overflowing everywhere, and the interior of the Temple gleaming brilliantly with gold and platinum plating, everything began to look different to me.
I did the work, and these later generations simply swept away all the money.
“Ciela! What are you doing here? We’ve been looking for you. We need to go now.”
“……Has it gotten so late already?”
As I stood there, grinding my teeth against the rising fury, an orphan from my cohort called out to me from behind.
By the way, my current name is derived from my former self—the Third Saint “Sierra”—and I was quite satisfied that my name was similar to my past one.
From the day I recovered my memories, I feigned devout faith and visited the Temple daily, systematically uncovering the reality of its current state.
Five hundred years had passed, and the Temple was no longer a place that spoke for the will of the Divine.
‘The will of the High Priests is surely the will of the Divine, is it not? That is why the nobility are so desperate to forge connections with the High Priests.’
‘Again, the Cardinal Faction has nominated Saint candidates—and every single one is a close relative of the Cardinals…….’
The clergy had colluded with the nobility, exploiting the commoners and accumulating vast wealth, while the Saint had become nothing more than a puppet with an empty title of power.
‘Count Gustave’s son murdered a servant, and the House of Gustave purchased Indulgence for a thousand gold coins. He received the Divine’s forgiveness in three days and was released from prison.’
‘With a mere thousand gold coins, even murder can be forgiven. What a merciful world. Whether we should say the Divine is too compassionate or simply too worldly, tsk tsk…….’
The Indulgence trade had become utterly corrupted, with the price for the remission of sins far exceeding imperial taxes.
‘If you fall out of the Temple’s favor, even the Empire faces considerable hardship. Just now, when friction arose between the Temple and the Birlenum Territory, His Majesty sided with the Birlenum Count, and the Fourth Princess nearly failed to receive her baptism at the Grand Temple that year, you know.’
‘And what happened in the end?’
‘Ultimately, the Temple had the land it purified recognized as Temple territory, and the Empire compensated for the land the Birlenum Count lost with imperial funds. The baptism had to be received, after all.’
Even the Empire could not check the Temple’s power, and the nobility had become dependent on it.
Nowadays, one only had to look at how many second and third sons of noble houses were taking Perpetual Vows to understand just how profitable becoming clergy had become.
Once, they would have dismissed it even when told to come serve the Temple for the Divine’s cause, but now—tsk!
“How can this be? How can five hundred years have changed things so much?”
The Temple’s former glory, which I had labored so desperately to preserve and revive, was nowhere to be found.
There was only a den of corruption and decay that read like a textbook of mediocre fantasy fiction.
I felt such shame that all my effort, all the hard work of a lifetime, had led to this.
What burned even more was the fact that all the foundations I had laid for the Temple’s flourishing had ultimately enabled this very ruin.
I had clearly opened the prelude to a golden age, yet these later fools had reduced the Temple to this state, and now I stood accused of being the architect of its corruption.
Caritas, why have you reincarnated me only to witness this calamity?
Surely you do not wish for me to hurl incendiary devices at the Temple and destroy with my own hands everything I have built?
If not, then I beg you—strike down these damned later generations and grant me the chance to atone for my karma.
For five long years I offered up such prayers, and finally Caritas granted me an opportunity to settle my karmic debt.
***
As I finished recalling the past, the shock of witnessing the Miracle finally subsided, and the chaotic state of the Temple came into view.
The appearance of the Divine Mark on my forehead was far more than simply a sign that I had been chosen by the Divine—it was a colossal religious event.
Moreover, a Saint directly chosen by the Divine stands at the highest rank in the Temple’s hierarchy, with none above her save the Divine itself.
Though it has now degraded into a puppet position, the symbolic significance of a Saint in the Temple’s structure cannot be ignored.
I had naturally expected the Divine Revelation to be so direct that they would immediately halt the baptism ceremony and come to claim me, but these later generations proved far more formidable opponents than I had anticipated.
“Next.”
These wretches simply left me standing there abandoned and carried on with the ceremony.
That those who had sworn Perpetual Vows to become servants of the Divine would so brazenly disregard the Divine’s will—it was unthinkable.
In my days as the Third Saint, they would have all been dragged to the dungeons. The world has truly become a better place, hasn’t it?
Whether or not the Divine Mark had descended upon me, the Temple seemed determined to proceed according to its predetermined script.
“Next, Kalianna Grayleton.”
The priest’s voice rang out, and a girl stepped forward to the altar.
As she bowed her head and knelt, the priest’s thumb—marked with Holy Water—touched her forehead—
The Golden Illumination Stones embedded in the Temple walls flashed in unison, and a halo bloomed forth from the altar.
Around her head, where a pattern was carved into her brow, the sacred flames of a halo flickered.
A “miracle” that wavered at regular intervals with obvious, deliberate manipulation etched into every movement.
Yet the Temple erupted in jubilation.
“It is true! The Divine Revelation has descended upon us once more!”
The theatrics of it all….
Still, I had to admit their performance—the way they summoned such genuine emotion—deserved credit. They seemed more astonished than when an actual Divine Revelation arrived.
Of course, no matter how convincingly they performed their divine ecstasy, they could never replicate the sacred presence that came when a god intervened directly; a subtle luminescence haunted the faces of the other clergy as well.
But that doubt didn’t linger long before the sudden tolling of a bell cut it short.
And with the bell came the arrival of—
‘So even that heavy-bottomed Archbishop graces us with his personal presence. Their scheme has truly unraveled, hasn’t it?’
Archbishop Marius Nomendis—the Temple’s true authority, who showed his face only on the Feast of Saint Ciela each year.
His eyes, as he stood before the altar, swept past the designated Saint and pierced directly through me.
I’d lived nearly a century as this Temple’s leader; what threat could a fledgling like you pose? I held his gaze without flinching, and the Archbishop opened his mouth with a benevolent smile.
“It is truly unprecedented for two to receive Divine Revelation.”
The congregation stirred.
Even the priests who had dismissed my Divine Revelation seemed flustered. The Archbishop’s acknowledgment of me wasn’t part of their script.
The Archbishop raised his hand, and the murmuring clergy fell silent.
“To prevent further confusion, I would ask that both of you remain within the Temple for some time.”
Everything—even this chaos—seemed to unfold as though orchestrated within the Archbishop’s palm.
“Of course, a period of prayer and contemplation will be necessary to properly interpret God’s will and discern the true Saint.”
The Archbishop, having left his words laden with meaning, spread both arms wide.
“Candidate Saint Kalianna, Candidate Saint Ciela. May the glory of Caritas be with you both. The Temple welcomes you both.”
His voice was gentle, but the intention beneath it was unmistakable.
‘I will control this situation and seize the momentum once more.’
I too smiled softly and inclined my head.
“Of course, Archbishop. I, too, wish to know God’s will precisely.”
A clergyman who grows fat through quarreling with gods and defying their will has no place in my Temple, child.
After the Archbishop departed, an awkward silence settled over the sanctuary.
The priests who had conducted the baptism were already tidying up, and the congregation was filing out one by one.
I was about to turn and leave with my escort when—
“Candidate Ciela.”
A resolute voice reached me from behind.
I turned. The face I’d already anticipated.
Kalianna Grayleton. The girl who would have ascended to sainthood today with a fabricated revelation, had God not intervened.
Of course, a puppet saint dancing at the strings of the Cardinal Faction was equally unnecessary to my Temple.

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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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