Get Mad [Isekai Revenge Fantasy Epic]

'Lucid Dreaming' was a resting technique Alan had developed in his years as a mercenary. Since he was always living on the knife's edge, even rest had to be maximised. Allowing him to build a foundation for the next steps he would take once he had awoken.

In his past life, Alan Smith was larger than life and never needed connections. Completely competent and ruthless. The joys he experienced connected to the Natural Psychopathy he was born with, and an inability to resist the urges that made him human.

He had a messy breakup with his parents. Realising far too late that he should've at least TRIED to reconnect with them. He grew into an unchanging pillar of his last world. Only in death knowing that his impact was as ephemeral as festive fireworks.

Having left behind no legacies.

Alan's consciousness sank into the dreamscape. He found himself standing on a clear river, unlike the murky water that was his past life's mentality. This experience of self-understanding was something he could only sense thanks to his past life's dreamscape.

It made his change into 'The Saint' feel more real.

Of course, this was all metaphorically speaking.

There wasn't any Xianxia-like Sea of Consciousness or mental landscape was happening in reality, but it was a good way to explain it. Very symbolic. All other words couldn't succinctly describe the vivid informational and emotional reshaping he'd felt.

Streams of memories became sorted into data.

Emotions of his current life overwhelming his past.

Alan had died regretful, but had already achieved his resolution. It was an imperfect end, but it didn't leave marks on his ghost after death. He should've had a crystal clear conscience in this life. At least, the man named 'Alan Smith' had grown past regret.

However, The Saint was different.

Memories of being a Natural Psychopath in his past life didn't pass on the same mental issues. He was still as normal and perfectly functional as a person as he was before- No, maybe even better when the experiences of Alan Smith sharpened his mentality.

Growing his ego way beyond its years.

Allowing him to gain a new perspective on life.

This world wasn't Earth. There was no government in this nation. Only the hands of nobles and royalty trying their best to attain power. Common sense here was also different. Meaning that he couldn't walk the same psychotic path as in his past life.

His goals started to shape themselves in his dreams.

The foundation of his thoughts before waking up.

One of his biggest regrets of his past life was realising that leaving things to the people was too inefficient. Believing that those that had been shaped by a broken system could change it after a dictator died was foolish. He was way too careless.

But that couldn't be helped.

Natural Psychopathy was a mental disease that therapy couldn't 'cure'. It was part of who the man named Alan Smith was as a human. Someone who revelled in death. Loving the act of driving a knife into another's gut and watching as they struggled.

That feeling of killing was an addictive exhilaration.

He had been far too consumed by it in his later years. Becoming an addict that couldn't go a day without that feeling. Becoming as necessary to him as eating. Even at the end of his past life, he thought he'd never be able to let go of that erotic pleasure.

The Saint proved him wrong...

Years of being a fairly normal priest had made him much different than the crazy and reckless fool he was in his past life. This slow life of communicating and helping out a finite community felt different from that daily injection of thrilling experiences.

That's why his Lucid Dreaming became different.

The essence of the person using it had changed.

The data being siphoned from his memories was allowing him to construct possible scenarios. Those ranging from what Alan Smith would've done... to the desires of The Saint. A deep-rooted obsession for real justice made him rethink his inherent bloodlust.

"Should I kill that bastard and escape this place?"

Alan imagined the scenario perfectly.

His current body was completely useless compared to even his frail, old past self before death. There was no experiences in martial arts and CQC carved into this current physique. Only the clumsiness of a man who avoided violence and chose peaceful methods.

Even still, he was confident in killing that sinner.

All it would take was a single finger.

However, the events shown after Pastor Robinson's death was a life of being on the run. With his current knowledge of society and connections with the Southern District's people, he could probably hide himself and escape this sanctuary if he wanted to.

Was this the right choice?

If it was in the past, he might've considered this.

The scenario changed again once he acknowledged that this particular plan was worthless. It was too focused on his current desires and had no room for his ambition. There must be a balance. Allowing him to not lose trust in the people he will try to control.

This was a good way to properly take responsibility.

Unlike his past life, where he had killed evil people and expected others to replace them, he needed to keep his position as The Saint and improve it to the point of being able to choose the replacements. The more power he gained, the more he could intervene.

A new scenario was being based on his beliefs.

Faith and desire balanced with great responsibility.

Alan Smith was confident and proactive, but The Saint was cautious and patient. Knowing his own emotions. Knowing exactly which feelings he had to suppress if he wanted his real desires. Those that were more important than punishing the wicked.

"Holy Power.." Alan thought of the new common sense of this world while formulating his plans.

Ready to use everything he had at his disposal.

——————————————————-

When he woke up the next morning, Alan was able to use the foundation he'd built in his Lucid Dreaming to create an actual plan. Building upon his current knowledge and desires. What came up a lot was a variable of this world considered 'Life Energy'.

Holy Power and Mana were in that category.

For now, Alan didn't have to worry about situations regarding Mana. That power was considered 'Evil' in this country along with Mages. Even the Royal Family gave credit to Holy Power while despising users of Mana. Believing them to be a big nuisance.

Holy Power worked differently from Mana.

The former was dependent on the faith of those around them. Objects containing Holy Power had their output change when people truly believed in their power. As the only human with Holy Power circulating around his body, it must be the same.

Alan once again resolved himself to 'seduce' people.

Make them completely trusting of him as a person.

How could he do that?

The answer was both straightforward and vague.

He must earn their trust with his own hands.

Back to the question: How?

What actions could be do to earn trust?

The emotionally stunted Natural Psychopath of his past life may not know the answer, but The Saint had become adept in that particular area. It wouldn't be easy, but it wasn't impossible. He simply had to continue to uphold his responsibilities as a Saint.

…By any means necessary.

A thin smile curved on Alan's face when he made up his mind. His face was the same, but the way he carried himself was subtly different than before he woke up. The rage consuming him didn't seem to bubble up to the surface no matter how hard it tried.

His mind being simultaneously twisted and clear.

The schedule he religiously followed altered a little.

Habits really died hard.

Unable to shift simply by a change in perspective.

Fortunately, it seemed like his skills had somehow been augmented by his past life's experiences. While previously it'd take a total of six hours to complete the ritual that required him to deal a gallon of his blood in a jar, now it only took ten minutes at most.

What had changed specifically?

The ritual concerning the sealing of his blood didn't use any magic tool or formulas. All he had to do was pour his blood into a jar and pray to enhance the preservation of it until the contents lasted a week in total. He was able to tell how long it'd take over time.

Able to quickly grasp that his Holy Power changed.

Perhaps his newfound resolution had altered it.

After all, there was no rule that a 'Blessed Item' had no way of effecting itself with its own faith. That was the only explanation he could come up with given his limited understanding of those like himself. There weren't any other examples for him to take note of.

Regardless, this actually made things a lot easier.

His thin and kind smile was still fixed on his face.

That same look he was used to giving people when he was truly comfortable now came out of his own accord. Alan took advantage of his self-control to keep his appearance calm. Making sure no one would be able to read him simply by looking at him.

Needing to be mindful of how others perceived him.

There was still time. Rather than doing anything too different from his usual schedule, Alan counted the time as per usual with hourglasses and rested more while he could. The next stage of the plan would be considerably risky and taxing on his mental power.

Alan tried to look 'drained' as he exited his personal prayer room. As he had expected, Pastor Robinson had been waiting by the door. The avarice in his eyes had not changed whatsoever since yesterday. He was really expecting The Saint to role over as expected.

There were only two choices given to him.

Realistically, Pastor Robinson had full control.

It wasn't a simple matter of being smarter or more conniving as an individual. This fatty had spent many years observing his behaviour. He knew how The Saint would react in anger and how he'd react when pressured. Having tested him many times.

Even in those unplanned moments of his anger.

There was no risk in his current actions whatsoever.

If the youth before him refused or tried anything, he would quickly figure it out based on The Saint's little micro expressions and eye movements. If even one thing was off, he had an entire plan meant to throw The Saint into the pits of despair if he wanted to.

So… what would be The Saint's awaited answer?

"Did you think about what I asked you?"

"I did."

"What is your decision?"

"You have always been right. I should choose what I'm inheriting and from who. If not for you, I would have lived my entire life lying to myself. Please, take this as a form of sincerity." Alan held a jar in each arm and handed over one of them as he'd promised.

It was a situation Pastor Robinson hadn't expected.

"…" A silence engulfed them as the bastard stared.

Almost as if he was putting pressure on the youth.

Trying to figure out if there were any tricks.

He secretly weighed the jar given to him and found that it truly was filled properly. From the smell of the jar alone, he knew the contents wasn't a substitute from an animal or some other substance. It was fresh saintly blood poured straight from the source.

He looked at The Saint's expression towards him.

Seeing that there was admiration in the youth's eyes.

A first for him.

Not being used to being given such a warm gaze.

"Haha! You're different than expected. I thought you really liked that girl from earlier, or is this because you think I'll harm her further?" This was definitely a bait to see if he'd get angered. No matter how hard The Saint lied, the kid wasn't an experienced actor.

Pressing his buttons should get a reaction from him.

Unexpectedly, The Saint blushed like the virgin he was when a woman was brought up. Showing a hint of desire in his eyes, and an emotion that the wicked beast knew intimately. His expression filled with the greediness of a novice merchant with no experience.

"Since I'll be blessing you from now on, it should be fine if I can touch her. I hope you won't refuse my request for this. It has been taxing to make more of this elixir. I deserve a reward." The Saint was both confident yet humble while asking this from him.

The man had become a little suspicious of him.

"You won't ask me for her release?"

"Why would I do that? I've always admired her beauty from afar, but could never touch her. Now that she's 'ours', you shouldn't monopolise a treasure like that. All I want is some time alone with her. You understand what I mean, right?" Alan took a step.

Pushing the jar into Pastor Robinson's arms himself.

Looking like he was the one bribing a good priest.

Calculations and schemes flashed by the adult's eyes momentarily, but he quickly reasoned that he had overestimated The Saint. He'd forgotten that a mere seventeen year old was The Saint. Not a scheming old man that was able to control his own desires.

This was a good opportunity.

Once a person stains themselves, the sin they committed wouldn't be easy to wash away. If he sealed the deal with a few words, then The Saint wouldn't be able to stop his offerings to him in the future even if he wanted to. It was that simple.

Pastor Robinson no longer showed any courtesy in private after realising the kid was under his thumb.

Unknowing that he would drink a poisoned chalice.