The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 64

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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 64
Before the silence could deepen, Arden came to his senses first. He rose slowly, and I withdrew my hand a moment too late.
I got up from the bed and caught hold of his uniform collar as he moved toward the door. While Arden hesitated, I deliberately loosened the crisp front of his dress uniform and tousled the hair he’d combed so neatly back into place with my own hands.
Arden looked down at me with an expression of disbelief.
“Your Highness.”
“This much is necessary if we want to avoid suspicion.”
I whispered playfully near his ear.
It was obvious how Johan, who’d been listening at the door to hear what the two of us were plotting in this room, would interpret things.
If Arden emerged with his clothes disheveled, having heard nothing at all, a very particular sort of misunderstanding would blossom between the Saint and her escort knight—the kind that had been tiringly repeated throughout the Church’s history.
I needed that misunderstanding now. Arden stared at me for a moment, then lowered his head with the face of someone who’d given up. “Fine. You can go now. Sleep well, Commander.”
Along with my playful good night, the Blessing of Holy Power I bestowed made Arden catch his breath sharply. He didn’t forget to bow properly before opening the door and stepping out.
The presence beyond the door trembled ever so slightly. It meant Johan had been there all along, as expected. I deliberately reached for my water glass on the inside, making no particular effort to hide it. That should be more than enough to hook him.
The next day, Johan looked at us in the carriage with an expression of utter distaste.
To be precise, his gaze darted between me and Arden while his face bore the look of someone clinging firmly to a grave misunderstanding. His eyes held a mixture of disgust, contempt, and the prejudice of “Ah yes, so this is what a Saint and her escort knight are truly like.”
I saw that gaze and nodded inwardly with satisfaction.
He’d swallowed the bait exactly as intended.
***
As we were making good progress toward our destination, the carriage suddenly lurched and the side where I was sitting abruptly sagged down.
The broken carriage was barely dragged by the horses to the nearest village. By the time we arrived, the horses were so completely exhausted they could barely move.
After suffering through hours in that jolting carriage, the first place we made for upon reaching the village was the blacksmith shop.
The Coachman and the Blacksmith examined the wheel together, then both wore expressions of dismay.
“This won’t be easy to repair right away.”
“How long will it take?”
When Arden asked, the Blacksmith rubbed his chin.
“The broken part needs to be replaced entirely, so I’m afraid we won’t be able to finish by today.”
In that moment, my brow twitched.
Wait. Surely they checked the carriage before we left? And this isn’t just any carriage—it’s the one the Saint rides in.
Yet the wheel shatters just days after departure?
At this point, reasonable suspicion was unavoidable. Did these bastards deliberately give us this broken carriage?
It’s fine that they’re sending me to Croen Duchy, but maybe they meant for me to suffer a little on the way there.
The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.
Right now, the Church’s credibility in my mind had already broken through the floor and was plummeting toward the basement.
Of course, I couldn’t actually know whether they’d deliberately assigned an old carriage. But suspicion was certainly allowed, wasn’t it?
Especially when the people in question were from our own Church.
In any case, we had no choice but to find somewhere to stay in the village for the night.
The village was small and quiet. The absence of an inn suggested it wasn’t a place outsiders visited often.
Instead, there was one building on the edge of the village that looked like a nobleman’s manor. When I casually asked the villagers, they said the owner had been staying there in seclusion for a while, and now his daughter had come to convalesce.
“She’s been here for several years now. Originally it was the Baron who stayed, but he passed away from illness, and now only his daughter remains.”
“Is the young lady also ill? Or—”
An old villager scratched his chin with an ambiguous expression at my trailing question.
“Well, doctors visit and medicines are brought in, but people like us don’t know the details. She doesn’t leave the manor much, you see.”
It was a textbook recovery scenario.
The traveling priests and members of the Holy Knight Order began going door to door, searching for places where we could stay the night. I understood it was surveillance, but I appreciated that they were handling the tedious work for us.
The problem was that as a small village, there naturally weren’t any houses large enough to accommodate so many people.
“Your Highness, based on the size of the available homes we’ve confirmed, it’s difficult to house the entire party. If we scatter the lodgings, our protective perimeter becomes far too extended.”
In other words, finding one place where we could all stay together would be much better.
That’s when Calianna opened her mouth, her eyes shining brightly as she looked at me.
“What if we stayed at the manor for one night on the condition that we heal the lady who’s convalescing there?”
Wait—I know perfectly well that you became a candidate for Saint precisely because you lack Holy Power, so who’s supposed to heal this lady’s illness? Is there anyone but me capable of doing it?
It was absurd, but I swallowed my objections and kept quiet.
Arden chimed in from beside me.
“We can hardly maintain a protective detail in a private home, so… that does seem like the best option.”
I didn’t much like that I’d be the one paying the price for this, but it was certainly the most practical approach.
A manor would have plenty of rooms, and it would be easier for the Holy Knights to guard the perimeter. There’d be space to store the carriage and baggage, and having all the priests gathered in one place would make them easier to manage.
“Besides, since our Church is the state religion, even a high priest would come running barefoot. Surely they wouldn’t dare refuse a request from the Saint herself?”
Was this the confidence of someone backed by an Archbishop? Calianna’s arrogance left me momentarily stunned.
True enough, regardless of the hope of receiving healing, they’d let us in out of fear of excommunication alone. Being excommunicated would certainly make life difficult.
During my orphanage days, I’d seen it more than once—nobles who’d fallen out of favor with high priests or cardinals scrambling to avoid excommunication by making enormous donations to the Main Temple.
And of course, all those staggering donations were handled by us orphans. I’d been so irritated that I’d earnestly prayed they’d be excommunicated, but now that I thought about it, I’d been praying to cut off our own source of funding.

I had my doubts about whether it was right to threaten a faithful believer with excommunication, but since we needed lodging urgently, we set out for the manor after all.
A woman was already standing in front of the main gate. Her dress was neat enough, but she looked more like someone from a respectable merchant household than nobility. When she spotted the Wilson Junior in my hand, she flinched.
Before heading to the manor, Arden had gently suggested leaving it in the carriage—he could protect us well enough, and since it would be impossible to carry off anyway, there was no theft risk. But I stubbornly brought it along.
Even in the most peaceful village, I felt secure only when Wilson Junior was with me. It was less a weapon than a psychological comfort, a sacred object. Though to the person on the receiving end, it would be a blunt instrument rather than anything sacred—but that was their problem, not mine.
The woman had apparently already rung the bell, for a butler was approaching the gate. He was about to greet her when he spotted our party and stopped in his tracks.
Johan announced our identity with an arrogant tone from beside me.
“Her Holiness, the Saint of the Church, wishes to spend the night here.”
Arden said nothing, looking every bit the escort knight of the Saint. When I glanced at Johan, he didn’t back down an inch.
The man clearly mistook that attitude for dignity. To my eye, it was simply a lack of manners, pure and simple.
The butler’s face showed confusion, but he quickly composed himself. He first handed the woman who had been standing at the gate over to the Head Maid, then disappeared into the manor briefly before returning to guide us inside.
As the Head Maid led the woman away, she glanced back at us several times. I couldn’t yet tell whether it was because of my Wilson Junior, the title of Saint, or the fact that a Saint’s retinue had simply descended upon her manor that troubled her.
The moment we stepped inside the manor, I instinctively furrowed my brow.

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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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