The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 69

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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 69
“Your sister disappeared from here?”
At my question, the woman who had introduced herself as Emily nodded.
“Yes. She was working as a maid at this manor and sending letters and money home regularly, but at some point the contact stopped. Even when I write to her here, I get no reply.”
Emily explained that she lived in a village some distance away from this one, and that her sister’s letters had ceased a full year ago.
A year. The moment I heard that word, I grimaced inwardly. Not a month or two—a year was long enough that even the most optimistic interpretation would inevitably lead to the word “disappeared.”
“For the first six months, I thought my sister might have been ill or too busy with work to write. But a year—that’s not normal.”
Emily’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it trembled noticeably.
“So I wrote to ask, and they said there was no such person.”
That phrase carried considerable weight. Not that she had already left, not that she had quit—but that no such person existed.
It meant either that someone had deliberately erased all traces, or that they were denying she had ever been there at all.
Emily said she had infiltrated this place as a servant to find some trace of her sister. It was rather crudely done for an infiltration, but I had to acknowledge the nerve of a woman who had come all this way alone, determined to find her family.
“And when I arrived today, there wasn’t a single sign of another person in the servants’ quarters. The only staff in this manor are the Head Maid and the Butler.”
That confirmed my suspicion. The sense of wrongness I’d felt earlier hadn’t deceived me.
For a manor of this size, the staff was far too sparse. Not sparse—abnormally absent. It made no sense for just a Head Maid and a Butler to manage such a sprawling estate.
But if Emily said that had already been the case when her sister worked here, then this wasn’t simply a recent reduction in household staff.
“My sister mentioned in her letters that the manor was large, but the only staff were the Head Maid and the Butler.”
“Is there any chance your sister was working somewhere else?”
At my question, Emily immediately shook her head.
“I couldn’t have been mistaken. The address is definitely here.”
Emily dug through her belongings and pulled out one of a bundle of worn letters, showing it to me. I let a faint glimmer of Holy Power shine forth and confirmed the characters on the paper.
The sender’s name and address. Norbaldt Count’s Villa. This was definitely the place.
But that wasn’t what I meant. I returned the letter to Emily and asked again.
“What I’m asking is—isn’t it possible your sister deliberately cut ties with her family and stopped writing on purpose?”
“That’s impossible.”
The light of trust in Emily’s eyes toward her sister didn’t waver for a moment.
I knew that look very well. It wasn’t the kind of belief built on solid evidence; it was the kind born of desperation—the kind you cling to because the moment you stop believing, you’ll fall apart.
“My sister is…….”
Before she could finish, I heard footsteps in the distance beyond the door. I immediately brought my index finger to my lips.
Hush—.
At the same time, I withdrew the faint glow of Holy Power I’d been holding at my fingertips. The room plunged into darkness, and Arden pushed Emily inward without hesitation before positioning himself to check my location.
We hid ourselves behind the art supplies. Arden twisted his body halfway to block the space between us and Emily, while I crouched down, nearly pressing myself into his embrace.
It wasn’t the moment for sentiment, but Arden’s frame was reassuringly solid. A well-built guard knight made a rather effective shield.
The door could only be locked from the outside, not from within.
So there was only one thing we could hope for: that whoever was outside would refrain from turning the door handle.
The footsteps drew slowly closer. The sound of feet on the corridor floor was unnervingly distinct.
I felt Emily’s shoulders trembling as she held her breath, while Arden’s hand remained motionless near his sword hilt. I extended my Aura Sensing as thinly as I could manage.
Someone stopped directly outside the door. For just a moment. A stretch of time where even swallowing felt like too much.
Then the footsteps receded again.
We didn’t move until the footsteps had completely vanished.
I broadened my Aura Sensing to check if there were any other presences nearby. A single person, retreating down the corridor.
Fortunately, they hadn’t set a trap and waited by the door—they had truly left. With no one in our immediate vicinity, I slowly rose to my feet.
“We’ll finish talking tomorrow.”
Emily nodded, her face still pale.
I sent her out of the room first. Questioning her further here was too dangerous.
If Emily were discovered, it would complicate matters for us too, but more importantly, the moment her purpose in infiltrating the manor was revealed, we might find her sister’s trail lost before we’d even begun to search.
Only after Emily’s footsteps had faded into the distance did Arden and I emerge from the room.
The smell of oil paint, which I’d been breathing all this time, made my nose feel stuffy. I used Holy Power to gently circulate the air, clearing away the paint smell that had lingered at my nostrils.
But strangely, the paint smell continued. It was coming from somewhere else, thick and persistent.
I followed the scent, moving slowly down the corridor. One side of the corridor was lined with portraits.
Following the smell further, my steps halted before a large portrait hanging at the far end of the wall.
Beneath the portrait was a name.
“Appears to be the previous Count,” Arden murmured quietly.
His voice was low and hushed.
“So that would make him… Edeline’s father?”
I reached out and lightly brushed the surface of the painting. Paint residue came away on my fingertips. Paint that hadn’t dried yet.
At the same time, I felt Holy Power emanating from that paint. The same subtle but unmistakable Holy Power I’d sensed from the palette and paint jars earlier. It seemed Edeline had been working on this portrait during dinner.
Setting it out to hang before it had dried was a secondary concern…….
“Why paint a portrait of one’s father with Holy Stone-Ground Paint……?”
I stared at my paint-stained fingertips, then gently purified them with Holy Power. My fingers became clean at once, but the question remained.
Holy Stone-Ground Paint. A portrait of the previous Count. A father said to have died of illness. A daughter feigning sickness. A missing servant. And a manor now inhabited by only the Head Maid and the Butler.
Arden stared at the portrait without blinking.
“Arden?”
I gave his arm a light tap, and his gaze finally pulled away from the painting. He shook his head briefly, then drew out a Lockpick from his breast pocket once more.
He’d been deft when unlocking the doors; now he was equally deft at re-securing them. Both the first and second room were locked back as if untouched. Two soft clicks sounded in succession, and the doorknobs returned to their original state of being firmly locked.
There was no trace of the doors having been forced, and the locks bore scarcely a scratch. Then, a stern voice drifted up from the floor below.
“What business have you wandering about at this hour?”
It was the Butler’s voice. Emily’s timid excuses followed in its wake. I couldn’t make out the precise words, but her tone alone spoke of utter intimidation.
She must have been caught the moment we left her. At least the attention hadn’t turned toward us. While Emily bore the brunt of his rebuke, we slipped from the corridor as quietly as we could.
Even descending the stairs, even entering the Guest Room corridor, Arden never once let his guard slip. I followed at his heel, spreading my Aura Sensing to keep watch over our surroundings.
We returned to the Guest Room without being spotted by the Butler.
The moment the door closed, I exhaled sharply. At last—a place where we could speak. Of course, given how suspicious this manor was, even the privacy of our room couldn’t be called entirely safe, but it was far better than the open corridor.
The instant we were back inside, I turned to Arden, who continued to scrutinize the portrait, and asked:
“Did you find anything?”
Arden nodded and opened his mouth.
“Do you remember what I mentioned?”

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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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