The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 37

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

Chapter 37
To receive the blessing of the Saint, the procession stretched on and on, seemingly without end.
The parade departing from the Main Temple followed a route that looped wide through the center of the City. On both sides of the street, the faithful knelt or clasped their hands in prayer while cradling their children. Some wept. Others held their breath.
All those eyes were fixed on me.
Ordinarily, Holy Power Users would have followed behind the open carriage I rode in, scattering light and luminescence as they came. Sacred Fire would flicker, waves of blessing would sweep across the street—that was how these things usually unfolded.
But this time, no one did that. Not a single person came forward.
Ah, right. Of course.
I laughed quietly to myself. The Church was making it brutally clear that they had no reason to help in this situation. If anyone dared add their light, they risked falling out of favor—and more than just a promotion could be forfeit; excommunication was not beyond the realm of possibility.
So I managed it myself.
I raised my hand from the carriage, and gentle light rippled through the air. Not excessive, but unmistakable—enough that anyone could recognize the mark of a blessing.
“Ohhh!”
Murmurs of awe rippled through the crowd.
I held my smile steady, gripping Wilson Junior firmly in one hand while the other waved continuously toward the faithful.
I had been bracing myself for whatever tricks might have been laid into the parade route, but it proceeded with surprising smoothness.
On the surface, it was a perfectly peaceful procession. So perfectly peaceful that it actually unsettled me.
There were no clichéd disasters: no demonic beings appearing out of nowhere, no one throwing themselves in front of the horses, no grieving parent holding up a sickly child and wailing to block the street.
Still, I didn’t let my guard down, continuing to scan my surroundings.
Arden likewise remained at the carriage’s side, never loosening his vigilance for a moment. His gaze swept over the crowd, traced the roofs, took in even the shadows pooling in the alleys.
We made it through most of the parade route without incident.
Finally, the Main Temple began to come into view.
The sacred edifice, unmistakable even from a distance, sustained by six white marble columns. This was truly the final stretch.
The last leg before returning into the Main Temple itself.
A thought crossed my mind unbidden.
‘Nothing’s happened? Was poison really all they had prepared? Did they think it would succeed one hundred percent and never bother planning beyond that?’
It was in that moment—that one instant—when my guard dropped, just barely, just the tiniest fraction.
And that was when it happened.
“Ahhh!”
A sharp scream tore through the air from somewhere. I reflexively looked up.
The spire of an ancient bell tower standing directly beside the parade route was tilting.
Stone scraped against metal as the air itself seemed to tear. The spire, losing its balance, was falling slowly but inexorably—straight toward my head.
Ah, so that’s why they changed the route.
At the moment when the parade ended and I would let my guard down, here at this very spot where the Main Temple was already visible ahead.
To kill me just before I entered the Main Temple.
That way they could spin it as the divine rejecting me at the final moment.
For the Church’s upper echelons, fabricating sins to attach to my corpse would be as easy as spitting in someone’s face.
The sharp tip of the spire drew closer at terrifying speed.
In the corner of my vision, I saw Arden rushing toward me in alarm.
“Your Holiness!”
He instinctively wrapped himself around me, throwing his own body as a shield.
It was a chivalrous choice, but the problem was that the spire falling toward us had more than enough weight and angle to pierce straight through two people.
I shoved hard against his shoulder and gripped Wilson Junior with both hands, raising it as high as I could to be ready to swing.
There was no time to think. The angle, the distance, the timing—all of it calculated instinctively, the way it had been when I faced the Demon Race.
In the air, the mace and spire met head-on.
Bang!
The impact rang out like an explosion.
The spire shattered outright. Cracks spiderwebbed from the point of impact, and the massive structure lost its coherence, fragmenting and scattering.
Thud, thud, boom!
The pieces fell to the ground with dull thuds. Some fragments flew toward my face, but the barrier of Holy Power I summoned kept both Arden and me safe from the debris flying in all directions.
Stone fragments rained down like a deluge from above, but fortunately, the holy knights had evacuated the crowds the moment the spire began to tilt, so no one was struck.
I steadied my breathing and turned my head.
“Are you all right?”
The moment I asked, Arden let out a short, breathless laugh as he looked at me.
“……I believe that’s a question I should be asking you, Your Holiness.”
Even in a moment like this, he never missed his chance to speak his piece.
“Everyone, please remain calm!”
Someone shouted, but it was already too late. The area had descended into complete chaos.
People stumbled over one another in panic, while injured citizens sprawled across the ground, having lost their footing in the scramble to escape. Fear bred fear, and the situation unraveled faster by the moment.
The narrowness of the passage made it worse. In a street already cramped, everyone was fleeing in blind panic, pushing each other to get out, and the situation spiraled further out of control.
Clearly they’d aimed for this too—not just my death, but this chaos. Serious injuries or deaths here would tarnish today’s inauguration ceremony with an even more catastrophic image.
I stepped down from the carriage and walked toward them.
“As long as I’m here, everything will be fine. Everyone, please stay calm.”
I deliberately pitched my voice lower, steadier. In the grip of panic, a measured tone carries better than a shout.
I took the hand of the nearest injured person, and Holy Power flowed gently from my palm into theirs.
Bones crushed and twisted by trampling feet slid back into place, and the labored breathing gradually steadied. The moment I confirmed the healing, I moved to the next wounded and continued.
“Oh, merciful heavens—thank goodness the Saint is here…….”
“Thank you, Saint!”
Their voices trembled. Relief and tears mingled, hovering over the plaza like a benediction.
As I healed the injured, I was carefully cultivating the image of a Saint—not one who brought calamity from the Inauguration Ceremony itself, as the Church hierarchy had intended, but one who stood firm and resolute in the face of unexpected tragedy. That was the narrative I was building.
While I used Healing Holy Power to tend the wounded, Arden remained pressed close at my side, scanning in all directions. The Holy Knights dispersed to begin their investigation of the Bell Tower and surrounding structures.
“Your Holiness, it is dangerous. You must return to the Main Temple at once. The longer you remain, the greater the risk that terrorist elements will strike again.”
At the urging of a priest from the Main Temple, I had to suppress an inward laugh.
As if closing one’s eyes makes the obvious disappear—the Main Temple was the most dangerous place of all. But I simply nodded on the surface.
“You speak wisely. I entrust the continued care of the wounded to you and your colleagues. Please see to the rest.”
With that, Arden and I made our way safely back to my chambers in the Main Temple.
Once we were inside, Arden exhaled the breath he’d been holding, his expression finally loosening, and turned to me.
“……When exactly did you hide the Mace?”
“Earlier this morning. Either way, even if someone found it lying on the carriage floor, what could they have done about it?”
I smiled, squinting slightly, and shrugged.
“Still, thanks to Your Holiness, we were able to prevent an even greater catastrophe.”
“I agree.”
I nodded. Without my quick judgment, my foresight in bringing Wilson Junior, and the strength to cut down that spire—Arden and I would be impaled on it right now.
After several hours had passed, the Archbishop summoned me, saying the investigation had concluded.
“Shall we go see what excuse they’ll rattle off this time?”
Their lies seemed predictable enough, but I found myself far too curious about the look of defeat on the Archbishop’s and the Cardinals’ faces to stay away.

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