The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 61

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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 61
The day before departure, the Archbishop sent someone to summon me to his office.
Of course, it wasn’t a good omen. Marius—our Archbishop who desperately wanted me out of the Saint’s position by any means, whether through my downfall or death—wouldn’t summon me just to offer some polite well-wishes about taking care on my journey.
I opened the office door with appropriate caution stirring in my chest. The Archbishop sat with his usual expression. Or rather, he wore a smile slightly gentler than usual.
“You’ve arrived, Your Holiness?”
“Why did you summon me?”
Since this wasn’t the time for us to exchange pleasantries, I skipped the courtesies and got straight to the point.
At that, the Archbishop picked up a small glass bottle sitting on his desk. A liquid the color of gold—radiating something almost holy—sloshed heavily inside it. It was clearly no ordinary object.
“Should you encounter a Demon Beast too difficult for you to handle, this should prove helpful.”
I’d stake my entire liquor collection that this thing was meant to poison me, not help me.
Wait—what if he was actually using my suspicion against me and gave me something genuinely useful instead?
If I don’t use this and end up dead, would the Temple claim they did their best, grinding their teeth like a dragon in defeat?
The Archbishop certainly knew that I suspected him. Which meant he could give me something truly useful while knowing full well I’d distrust it of my own accord.
What if I put this aside as suspicious and then die at the crucial moment without ever using it?
Then that cursed Archbishop would wipe away his tears with theatrical care and say something unbearably shameless.
‘We delivered an item that would have been of use to the blessed Saint. That she chose not to use it was her own decision. The Saint has passed from this world because she could not trust the Temple.’
That’s what he’d say.
I looked down at the bottle, frowning slightly so it wouldn’t show. It felt uncomfortable just to discard it.
Above all, so much time had passed.
The age I’d lived in and now—an incomparably vast span of years lay between them. They say ten years can change mountains and rivers, but here, mountains and rivers had changed fifty times over and then some.
In all that time, new methods of handling Demon Beasts might have emerged that I didn’t know about, and techniques utilizing Holy Power could well have advanced too.
Of course, the intellectual level of the Church seemed to have regressed if anything. Still, it was worth checking what this thing actually was. I nodded appropriately and took the bottle with me.
“I’m grateful for your concern. I’ll put it to good use.”
Of course, I meant nothing of the sort.
The moment I returned to my room, I carefully picked up the bottle.
Considering the possibility that it might contain something dangerous, I wrapped Holy Power around my hand before cracking the lid open slightly. Then I let exactly one drop fall onto my palm.
The golden liquid formed a sphere on my skin. I slowly attempted to analyze it using Holy Power.
“…Hmm.”
A moment later.
“…Hmm?”
I furrowed my brow. I couldn’t get a sense of it at all.
Not poison. Not a curse, and not Demon Beast blood as I’d secretly suspected.
Yet it didn’t quite feel like Holy Water either. If it were truly Holy Water, I would have recognized it immediately. There was no Holy Power emanating from it at all—how could this possibly be Holy Water?
‘So is it really some new-age weapon that can deal with Demon Beasts instantly? Something I don’t know about because I’m an ancient relic?’
This must be what someone from the Joseon dynasty would feel seeing a smartphone for the first time upon arriving in the modern era. The time gap between when I was the Third Saint and now was roughly equivalent to the gap between the Joseon dynasty and the twenty-first century in that original world.
So perhaps someone contemporary like Arden might know something about it. I had Rillet fetch Arden to my room.
“Arden, have you ever used something like this while running Demon Beast Raids?”
As I shook the bottle and asked, Arden stepped closer and examined the golden liquid inside the glass vessel carefully, then shook his head.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before… Where did you obtain this, Your Holiness?”
“The Archbishop gave it to me.”
At my casual answer, Arden’s brow furrowed slightly, and he gently extended his hand.
“It could be dangerous. Allow me to keep it for safekeeping.”
This mysterious troublesome object seemed far safer in my hands than in Arden’s.
At least I possessed Holy Power. If something went wrong, I could unleash Holy Power and perform a Purification.
But Arden was different.
He was indeed a strong knight, but poisons, curses, and holy artifacts weren’t his specialty. If Arden held it and something happened? That would be its own headache.
I tucked the bottle into my bosom and made my decision.
“No, I think it’s better if I keep it.”
“But, Your Holiness….”
“It’s fine. The more dangerous it is, the more I should be the one holding it.”
Unable to override my stubbornness, Arden extended his hand once more.
“Then could you lend it to me for just today? Though time is tight, I’ll do everything I can to investigate before your departure.”
A single day seemed harmless enough. Surely the Archbishop wouldn’t give me something that explodes a day later.
“You must return it tomorrow without fail.”
Feigning reluctance, I set the bottle into Arden’s rough palm. His hand was large enough that the bottle appeared considerably smaller resting in his hand than it had in mine—an optical illusion born of the size difference.
I watched the bottle disappear into Arden’s tunic. The instinct of a Saint who had weathered countless crises thus far told me something felt very wrong about this.
***
I’d assumed it would be just Arden and me, like when we went to Lebon County before.
But the moment we arrived at the carriage the Church had prepared, I raised my eyebrows at what I saw.
Familiar faces stood lined up in rows.
The first person to catch my eye was Calianna Benedio. The moment she spotted me, her face lit up—then she hurriedly composed herself and offered a proper greeting.
At least she acknowledged me as Saint. But seeing her do so brought me no joy whatsoever.
My head throbbed so badly I rubbed my temples instead of sighing.
Why was this nepotistic parachute drop showing up here of all places?
The appearance of Calianna—the Cardinal’s great-niece and former Saint Candidate who’d been watching for any slip in my judgment—only dragged the Cardinal’s intentions deeper into murk.
He pushes me into danger while pressing some mysterious golden liquid into my hands, and then sends his great-niece along with me?
Is it not actually dangerous, or is he employing some desperate gambit—even abandoning his great-niece—to get rid of me for good?
Is he making me think the mission can’t be that perilous precisely because the Cardinal’s great-niece is coming along?
Or is there some other reason he absolutely had to include his great-niece in this journey?
My thoughts tangled and turned. This time my eyes met those of Johan Rothberg, the Holy Knight who’d once guarded Calianna during her time as Saint Candidate.
I couldn’t say whether he still served as her escort, but the fact that he’d followed along suggested ties of some kind.
Come to think of it, wasn’t he also said to be a close relative of the Cardinal? I wasn’t sure whether to rejoice that the Temple had become a workplace its own bloodline wished to occupy, or to mourn that it was becoming a textbook case of entrenched corruption.
When I became Saint, the position of Holy Knight Commander—which Johan had all but inherited—slipped away entirely, and he’d become the stone buried in the ground, pushed aside by a rolling one.
I’d already braced myself for his feelings toward me to be less than friendly.
“Long time, Calianna. And Rothberg.”
After exchanging a strained greeting with Arden, Johan gave me no formal courtesy at all—just a curt nod of the head. That was the entirety of his greeting.
Calianna beside him was so startled she actually grabbed at his uniform sleeve and shook it. I was left so bewildered that I glanced down at Wilson Junior in my hand for a moment.
Surely this Johan didn’t fail to see our finely honed Wilson Junior? At this level, shouldn’t he instinctively show proper respect?

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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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