The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 80

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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 80
“I don’t know either!”
The confident answer hung in the office for a moment, leaving it utterly silent.
Croen had initially thought perhaps she was the kind to hold to her convictions even before money—which made him wonder just how serious the matter might be.
But Calianna’s eyes moved with perfect honesty between the gold coin box and the gems.
Those eyes did not belong to someone clinging to principle. They were the eyes of someone who genuinely wanted something but had no idea what it was.
“Didn’t I tell you to speak honestly?”
“I am speaking honestly.”
Calianna answered as though deeply wronged. Croen stared at her face, wondering if she was joking.
But her eyes held only sincerity. She truly didn’t know.
He caught himself thinking he’d been struck speechless more times today than he cared to count, and rubbed his face with his palm.
“Fine. I’ll have this sent to the Main Temple. You may go.”
As Croen dismissed her with an impatient wave, Calianna cast one last lingering glance toward the gold coin box and gems before rising from her seat.
The gems tempted her too. But having given such an answer, she possessed at least enough sense to know she couldn’t now ask if she wouldn’t be given those as well. In the end, Calianna left the office with nothing but regret on her lips.
Not long after the door closed, a subordinate who had been observing the guest quarters reappeared quietly.
“Your Grace, it appears that Lord Rotberk genuinely knew nothing of Raum’s existence. Rather, he seemed wary of whether this was some scheme to extort donations from our territory.”
Croen sank into thought, chin in hand.
“Hmm, so that’s not their purpose?”
“I cannot say. What the Saint’s purpose is—that is another matter.”
His subordinate answered decisively.
“The Saint’s escort knight, Lord Hawelin, deliberately refrained from joining the conversation. For all that he bears the title of the Saint’s protector, it seems he was not made privy to this information.”
“Then the Saint’s aims may not align with those of the Temple.”
Croen’s eyes narrowed. He recalled the Saint he had met in the reception room just moments before.
Those mint-colored eyes, unwavering and untouched by agitation or frivolous emotion—not the eyes one would expect from a woman barely come of age. She’d shown no indignation at hearing disadvantageous words, no reaction to mockery. She simply let such things pass.
Yet when it was time to play her hand, she played it without hesitation. She was not the sort one could handle carelessly simply because of her youth.
“Wasn’t Calianna, who came with her, also a Saint Candidate? I recall it stirred quite a commotion—that Caritas had chosen not one but two Saint Candidates this generation.”
“Yes. The Grailton Family.”
“The Grailton Family—isn’t the current Archbishop’s elder brother the family head?”
“That is correct.”
“And the current Saint came from the orphanage attached to the Main Temple, if I recall?”
“That is my understanding.”
One corner of Croen’s mouth lifted in a thin smile. To nominate Saint Candidates so openly and then claim it was Caritas’s choice—absurd.
“The Saint’s acumen is quite remarkable. Not only did she surpass the Archbishop’s designated candidate and claim the position of Saint herself, but she’s managed to remain alive until now.”
There was a hint of sarcasm in his words, but his admiration was genuine.
A young woman barely come of age, with no backing whatsoever, had overthrown the Archbishop’s blood relative to become Saint. A man who had once been part of the imperial household understood precisely what that meant.
“What is the likelihood that the current Saint is backed by the Heterodox Sect, which seeks to swallow the Caritas Church whole?”
“If that were the case, wouldn’t the Archbishop have already purged her on that pretext?”
“Perhaps. But they may have prepared just as thoroughly, placed sleeper agents at every level. They wouldn’t have scrimped when they placed someone in the position of Saint itself.”
If the current Saint truly had the Heterodox Sect as her backing, then this entire affair—the Ecclesia Sect’s attempt to awaken Raum—might be nothing but a scheme to make everyone dependent on this woman’s aid.
“For now, keep watch.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Once his subordinate withdrew, Croen turned his attention to the map spread across his desk.
The heart of Yugmangseong. The Croen Dukedom.
And himself, seated at the very center of the castle that lay at its core.
“She arrives with all that, and speaks of helping me. It’s laughable.”
A cold sneer settled on Croen’s lips.
***
The first day of my arrival at Croen Castle was spent resting within the fortress under the pretext of recovering from travel fatigue. From the second day onward, the proper tour of the territory began in earnest.
I finished the breakfast brought to my room and stepped into the corridor, where Croen was already waiting, dressed and prepared.
“I shall personally guide you today.”
“Personally?”
“There seem to be many things Your Highness wishes to see.”
His smile was gentle enough, but the true meaning behind his words was easy to read. He had no intention of letting me wander about alone.
And so I set out on the proper tour of the territory alongside Croen.
He brought his own carriage—or rather, not merely the carriage, but himself as well.
I couldn’t quite determine whether this was how he treated a Saint with honor, or whether it was simply surveillance.
I studied Croen, who sat opposite me in the carriage, trying to gauge his intent.
Of course, his expression told me nothing. That man possessed a remarkable talent for maintaining sarcasm, courtesy, and wariness all simultaneously on his face.
“As you can see, the territory is perfectly sound.”
Croen opened the carriage window himself as he spoke.
On the surface, at least, everything seemed normal. The villagers went about their business unremarkably, shops stood open, and the distant fields and mining roads showed no sign of anything amiss.
The sky was clear, the snow-covered landscape serene, and nowhere was there any hint that a Great Demon might stir awake at any moment.
Yet something about that mountain felt familiar. I narrowed my eyes as I gazed out the window.
That mountain shouldn’t be here. Back then, it was unmistakably far, far away.
Even if the saying held true that time could transform mountains and rivers, mountains themselves didn’t usually change so readily. Rivers might shift their courses, villages might rename themselves, forests might vanish and grow again—such things were entirely possible.
But a mountain’s position shifting so noticeably was another matter altogether.
And on that mountain now, there remained a starkly visible depression in its peak—the mark left when Raum had hammered it down.
Yes, that’s right. That scar was unforgettable.
We’d nearly captured a creature powerful enough to reshape a mountain’s summit with a single strike, only to let it slip through our fingers at the last moment.
A flicker of satisfaction rose in me for a moment, but I quickly remembered this was no time for it. I turned from the window and addressed Croen. “Has there ever been a Tectonic Shift in this dukedom significant enough to move mountains?”
Croen regarded me with a languid tone. “I haven’t been in this dukedom for even ten years, I’m afraid.”
Croen regarded me with a languid tone.
“Then perhaps you could summon someone who’s lived here for generations, rooted to the land?”
“That would be difficult at this very moment, but once we return to Croen Castle, I’ll locate a resident fitting your criteria and have them brought to you.”
Croen seemed inclined to dodge—he kept deflecting his answers.
“Then, would it be possible to see the current map of Croen Dukedom?”
“A map? Whatever for?”
The duke’s eyes immediately flashed with suspicion.
Surely he didn’t think I was here to… strip-mine his land?
It was entirely plausible. After all, purifying land and then tearing it away as payment was the fallen Ecclesia Sect’s specialty.
Moreover, if I listed objectively everything I’d said up until now, it painted a perfect picture of a protection racket buildup.
Your dukedom faces a crisis. A Great Demon slumbers here. I shall inspect your lands. And now—hand over the map.
With that flow, I could appear to be selecting land that requires Purification, while actually pinpointing the most valuable mines and strategic positions.
It was a misunderstanding he had every right to make. Even putting myself in his shoes, it did look suspicious.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words. How exactly was I supposed to clear up this particular misunderstanding?

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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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