The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 90

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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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Episode 90
No matter that he was the Former Emperor’s half-brother to the current Emperor, he was still the Former Emperor’s own son, wasn’t he?
Whether that doubt showed on my face or not, Kroen smiled very faintly.
“Your Highness may already know this, or if you didn’t before, you’ll soon learn once you seize real control of the Temple, but fertile land is the foundation of wealth and power.”
He began his explanation in an unhurried tone.
“Fertile land draws people and resources together, and forms the basis of a territory’s prosperity. When people gather and resources accumulate, naturally a hub emerges. And when the surplus products from that land give you advantage in trade with other territories, that becomes wealth and power.”
I knew that fact better than anyone. That’s precisely why my former self had pushed through policies to expand Temple lands around fertile soil.
Where people gathered, temples rose. Along the routes where goods flowed, temple administrations took root. The wealth produced from fertile land had magnified the Temple’s influence.
The Grand Duke continued in a matter-of-fact voice.
“And I hold the succession rights of the Imperial line. If such power were given to me, he would fear I might covet imperial authority and turn my blade against my older brother, or against the bloodline of my younger brother. That’s why he gave me such barren land.”
Thinking of how bloated the current Religious Order had become atop the foundation of fertile land I’d once gained, I understood well how easily wealth and power became fuel for corruption.
“You were thoroughly prioritizing the successor’s security.”
“Isn’t that what an Emperor does?”
His reply was dry. There was no particular pathos of a son abandoned by his father. He had long since analyzed and come to terms with the fact.
“As if giving me such barren land weren’t enough for his peace of mind, he also controlled my lifeline through food supplies.”
I suddenly recalled the ingredients of the Soup that had been provided to me—foodstuffs that never came from the Northern Territory.
“Before I became the Territory Lord here, the territory that originally exchanged grain and iron ore with this land presented us with rather unfair terms. Terms that made it essentially impossible for our territory to obtain grain. Imperial influence likely played a significant role.”
The Grand Duke laughed cynically.
“The surrounding territories mine ore and trade with other territories to obtain grain, so if the Imperial Family doesn’t provide grain, the future before me narrows to two paths.”
He held up two fingers, then folded one.
“Die of starvation in misery.”
The other folded as well.
His words didn’t sound like a jest.
“Or die dragged out by furious territory people before I can starve.”
Barren land, an economy dependent on mining even for neighboring territories, an environment requiring external grain supplies, and the Imperial Family holding that lifeline—his very survival.
Kroen, the Grand Duke, hadn’t received a territory. He’d received a very elegantly wrapped noose.
On the surface: an Imperial direct line raised to Grand Duke and granted a territory. In reality: an isolated Territory Lord in the Northern Territory, unable to maintain his land without Imperial support.
And beneath that territory lay the Great Demon Raum in slumber.
The Grand Duke dragged a weary hand across his face.
“And now, of all things, a Great Demon sleeps beneath the territory. Really, now.”
If the Grand Duke was being checked by the Imperial Family, for me it had actually worked out better.
This wasn’t simply about gaining a shield against the Second Prince’s marriage proposal. I could also split apart the entanglement between Imperial Family and Religious Order.
Even though I’d warned the Third Generation Saint to be cautious of the Imperial lot, and she hadn’t listened, the least I could do was let her feel why I’d warned her, then rend those ties anew.
And the Grand Duke before me now wasn’t inclined toward the Imperial Family. At the very least, he wasn’t the type to hand me over to the Imperial interest.
“It’s fine.”
At those words, the Grand Duke looked at me with surprise.
“That much is bearable if I can just seize real control of the Temple. If I don’t seize control of the Temple, eventually I too will be hauled before a Religious Trial and pushed toward the pyre.”
I casually exposed that my life was on the line too, putting me on equal footing with the Grand Duke, and extended my hand. This is how one plays politics, young one.
“I will save your territory from the Great Demon, and you will serve as my shield for a time.”
Kroen gazed down at my hand endlessly.
A brief silence fell.
The red sky rippled beneath our feet, and Demonic Energy rising from Raum’s abyss in the distance knocked against the barrier of Holy Power.
In that strange and ominous space, we weighed each other for a moment. Saint and Grand Duke. Temple and Imperial Family. One who must use the other, and one who must grasp hands to avoid being used.
The Grand Duke, having reached his decision, finally clasped my hand firmly.
“I didn’t expect your interests and mine to align so perfectly, Your Highness.”
The measured handshake was not that of two people conspiring a betrothal, but the very embodiment of a Death-Life Pact, a temporary alliance.
There was no affection, no trust, no romance. Only calculation that we each were a useful piece for the other, and confirmation that at least for now we were looking in the same direction.
This was enough.
What I needed now wasn’t an affectionate betrothed but a usable shield, and what the Grand Duke needed wasn’t a faithful Saint but someone who could somehow deal with the Great Demon beneath his territory.
I released his hand and spoke in a measured tone.
“Then I’ll hand over to you the spy the Imperial Family planted among my entourage. Before I leave, conduct a light interrogation.”
With this, I’d gained a fine leverage against the Second Prince.
If that bastard had truly inserted Imperial Secret Knight Order members into my party, this was more than simple surveillance—it was a political vulnerability.
To spy on the Saint’s movements in secret, disguised as Temple personnel. The more the Archbishop learned, the more trouble it would bring; the more the First Prince learned, the more interesting it would become.
The Grand Duke, holding the same thought, wore a villainous smile.
“Leave it to me.”
“Excellent. Most reassuring indeed.”
I exchanged a smile with the Grand Duke and nodded. As Arden confirmed our bargain had gone through, he released the Grand Duke’s subordinate he’d been holding without hesitation. The Grand Duke coughed a few times—a clearing of the throat—before asking.
“So when do you plan to capture the Great Demon?”
I regarded him for a moment, then shifted the smile on my face into one befitting a Saint.
“Everything has its season.”
What I really meant was that I’d already wrung enough use out of him, and once Raum stirred and began to rise, I’d be ready to stop him.
Of course, I couldn’t say such a thing aloud, so I dressed it up nicely, like one of the Saint’s prophecies, and gave it to him in roundabout terms.
“Raum remains locked in deep slumber. Rather than disturb him rashly now, it would be wiser to set your Territory and the Temple’s internal affairs in order, cut off the Heresy Faction’s movements, and then act. There’s no need to draw your blade at the wrong moment and risk waking a sleeping calamity.”
The Duke seemed to turn my words over in his mind for a moment, but he offered no objection. There was a curious faith in him, perhaps, that the Temple would not let this matter lie.
“Then might I ask one more question, Your Highness?”
“Ask as much as you wish.”
I answered with a benevolent smile. The Duke asked, his face perfectly calm.
“How do we get out of this Rift?”
…….
I maintained my smile and fell silent for a moment.
Hmm, how did I get out five hundred years ago?
I searched through my memories from when I was the Third Generation Saint. The recollection was quite vivid, perhaps because Valente had nearly died.
I’d been caught and wrapped up by Raum’s Demonic Energy tendrils as he tried to ascend to the surface, forced out alongside him. I remember struggling hard to purify his Demonic Energy as it crept into both Valente’s bound body and my own.
But a way out on my own?
I have no idea.
After Raum retreated into the Rift with his mortal wounds, Caritas appeared to me in a dream during my healing and left me a premonition that it would take five hundred years for Raum to awaken again. She fluttered her wings five times, so five hundred years was likely correct.
So I never bothered to venture back into Raum’s den—pointless effort. I simply sealed the entrance to this Rift.
Hmm, it seems I may have miscalculated……?
Cold sweat ran down my spine.

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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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