The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 67

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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 67
When I opened the door, the Butler was standing right in front of it, his posture as impeccable as it had been this afternoon.
“Dinner has been prepared. May I show you to the Dining Room?”
Come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten a proper meal all day—what with the carriage wheels breaking down, calming the horses, entering the town, and securing permission to stay at the Manor.
On top of that, caught in a silent war of nerves between the suspicious young lady, the suspicious Butler, and suspiciously few servants, I’d let dinner hour slip away entirely.
The moment I realized how hungry I was, my stomach made its belated presence known. And yet Arden looked thoroughly displeased.
Sensing that Arden had something to tell me, I sent the Butler away to check with the others first. The instant he left, Arden spoke.
“Your Grace, it is dangerous to consume food offered by those who harbor secrets.”
Back at the Main Temple, I purified poisoned meals every single day—what would be different here?
Apparently no one but us felt particularly suspicious, because the moment Kalianna, Johan, and the other attending priests heard dinner was ready, they emerged from their rooms and gathered in the corridor.
“We’re going too. If I don’t eat, they’ll all have to go hungry as well—do you not see those young lambs clutching their empty bellies?”
The structure was simple: if the highest-ranking person didn’t eat, no one else could either. Though Arden gave the others a sideways glance that suggested he considered this irrelevant.
“Your Grace’s wellbeing must take precedence over their hunger.”
“I’m starving, Arden. Starving.”
Rather than be moved by his words, I spoke a hard truth and whispered it to his ear.
“Even if there’s poison, I can purify it. Let me eat, will you?”
Arden blinked, clearly caught off guard, then nodded. Even in his befuddlement, he didn’t forget to offer me his arm as escort.
When we entered the Dining Room, the long table was laid with a surprisingly modest spread.
It was no grand aristocratic banquet—just warm soup, bread, some roasted meat, boiled vegetables, and preserved fruit.
While simple for receiving guests, considering we’d arrived so unexpectedly, there was nothing particularly strange about it.
Only the lady of the house herself, Edeline, was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is the young lady Nordvalt?”
When I asked the Butler, he bowed respectfully.
“She is engaged in her painting. When absorbed in her work, she often forgoes meals.”
I sat down and, before Arden could make his move, took a bite first.
The taste on my tongue was ordinary. At least, there didn’t seem to be poison—none that I could detect immediately, anyway. And yet something felt off.
Without drawing attention, I spread my Holy Power thin across the table. The force enveloping all the food swept away any trace of poison and contamination.
Only once the food was thoroughly purified did I properly begin eating.
The taste wasn’t bad. The soup was clean and light, the bread a bit cold but edible, the meat not tough at all.
Kalianna ate quietly without suspicion, and Johan, contrary to his petulant expression from before, accepted the meal without protest. The attending priests did the same.
All of them ate well, oblivious to the purification, utterly unguarded.
If there really had been poison, we’d all have been massacred here before ever reaching the Grand Duchy of Croen.
Of course, I’d have saved myself through self-detoxification, but what would become of a Saint who alone survived—that was obvious without even thinking.
Johan would have died suspecting me, and the Temple would have seized the opportunity to begin yet another round of vile politics over why only I remained alive.
The very thought exhausted me.
As we finished eating and everyone headed to their rooms, Johan asked me in a sharp voice.
“How long are you planning to stay?”
I answered without stopping my stride.
“I’m aiming for three days as my limit, for now.”
How thoroughly Edeline concealed herself would determine how long we stayed. At my answer, Johan’s face hardened.
“I pray that your decision, Your Grace, does not bring shame upon the Grand Duchy of Croen.”
To anyone listening, it would sound like genuine concern—but it was pure sarcasm. The bitterness of having lost his position as Holy Knight Commander was no small thing; Johan proved to be remarkably consistent. I turned to look at him with a perfectly serene smile.
“I appreciate your concern, Johan.”
Though I appreciated it only in the sense of understanding it; I had no intention of heeding it. I was the highest-ranking person in this party—what else could he do? In the old days, talk like that would have landed him straight in the Heresy Inquisition Office on charges of insubordination.
How tragic that the authority of a Saint had fallen so low.
Johan looked as though he wanted to say more, but when Arden regarded him quietly from beside me, he finally held his tongue. I went straight to my room as soon as dinner ended.
“What was in the food?”
I shrugged at Arden’s question and answered.
“No poison, at any rate. And even if there had been, judging by what I didn’t detect, it would be far weaker than what the Temple puts in my meals.”
The grandfather clock chimed twelve times. Midnight.
At last—
the deep night I’d been waiting for, the one that belonged to the Manor alone, had arrived.
***
Lady Edeline, wiping paint-stained hands, gazed at her palms for a long time.
The deep paint trapped in the lines of her hands wouldn’t come off easily. Even after scrubbing with a wet cloth again and again, dark pigment remained beneath her nails and in the creases of her knuckles, as if it had already seeped into the skin itself.
Lady Edeline stared at those marks, then eventually gave up, lowering the cloth.
“Did the guests finish their food?”
The Butler bowed his head at her question.
“Yes. The Sleeping Draught should take effect soon.”
The Butler’s voice was calm as he recalled the Saint’s party—how they’d accepted everything offered without a shred of suspicion, eating readily. Edeline gave her next command in a level tone.
“Tomorrow evening as well. Add the Sleeping Draught to the meal.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Lady Edeline turned without a word.
In one corner of the room stood an enormous frame, not yet hung in its proper place, leaning against the wall. It was far too large for her to lift alone.
The Butler approached naturally and grasped one side of the frame, while Edeline steadied the other. The two of them carefully lifted it and carried it to the wall.
Lady Edeline stepped back once the frame was fully secured in place. The painting hung against the wall as though nothing in the world had changed.
Lady Edeline gazed at the painting for a long time, then murmured softly to herself.
“I’ve come too far to confess now.”
***
The moment the night I’d been waiting for arrived, I opened the door with utmost care and slipped out alongside Arden.
Nothing else mattered.
My objective was singular.
The room in the Second Floor Corridor—the one the Butler had dismissed as an art supplies storage.
I moved as soundlessly as possible with Arden toward the second floor. Each step on the staircase produced the faintest creak from aged wood, but such sounds were common enough in the Manor at night that they would pass unnoticed.
Arden moved ahead of me. His footsteps were nearly inaudible, and his hand remained positioned to draw his sword at any moment.
The moment we reached the Second Floor Corridor, the smell of Paint struck us full force.
What had seemed a faint fragrance during the day sharpened considerably in the darkness of night. The scent was a mixture—old oil, wet pigment, damp cloth, and something oddly musty beneath it all.
For a room where someone merely painted often, the smell was far too strong. The explanation about art supplies storage might not have been entirely false.
The problem was that it seemed unlikely art supplies alone occupied that space.
Arden extended his arm and drew me back.
I retreated obediently a step.
He positioned himself before one of the doors in the Second Floor Corridor—the very one the Butler had tried to slip past casually in daylight.
No light leaked from beneath the door frame. It was impossible to tell whether anyone was inside.
Arden slowly reached out, grasped the door handle, and turned it with deliberate care.

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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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