A Powerful Martial Artist Reincarnates as a Nun Knight

The situation was this: After stopping at a seemingly normal village on their way to the Toriento Bishopric, the party awoke the next morning to utter chaos. A newborn had strangled its mother and midwife, while the father babbled incoherently, his mind lost.

Having allowed outsiders into their village just the day before such an ominous incident occurred, the villagers immediately suspected Sophia’s nun knight party. After subduing the unruly villagers through a show of force, the party reluctantly took on impromptu occult detective work to identify the culprit.

And the result?
The husband, who accompanied them as a ritualistic conduit to track the infant, drove a silver stake through the immobilized baby’s heart before turning the stake on himself once they neutralized it.

His discovered journal fully detailed his tragic fate.
Apparently, the man’s family lineage were hereditary vampire hunters birthed from white cauls. Having grown disillusioned with his family’s calling, the man chose an ordinary life in his generation. Yet when his wife became pregnant, he agonized over their child potentially being born under the same white caul – facing a vampire hunter’s destiny.

Inexplicably, the child was instead born under a crimson caul as their ancestral prey – a vampire who immediately strangled the mother and midwife upon birth before fleeing. An outcome he could never have imagined.

{Certainly no natural phenomenon. The miasma must have been involved.}

As Esras-Hermes stated, those born under white cauls to become vampire hunters were considered a highly sacred mystery even by the Church – a heroic lineage fated to be the banes of vampires.

Vampires were unnatural lifeforms twisted by the influence of outer planar heralds, their origins not dissimilar from demons despite differing mechanisms. Vampire hunters were born to erase such unholy influences, the world’s antibodies.

And those who passed down this power and destiny through methods lost to time became the so-called ‘hunter lineages.’

{Had he been a naturally born vampire hunter from a lineage properly fulfilling their destiny, they likely would not have fallen victim to this mere miasma. But he rejected his own fate despite being born under a white caul, allowing the miasma to seize that vulnerability.}

Still, if they had properly eliminated the Archdemon’s vile work back then, that man could have been spared such tragedy. His wife would have delivered normally, and the couple could have raised a beloved child.

The more Sophia dwelled on it, the more bitter the aftertaste.

In any case, after such an eventful and arduous journey, they finally reached the foothills of the Alb Mountains. Once they crossed this range, the Toriento Bishopric would come into view.

“I didn’t expect to retrace this path so soon.”
Hildegard grumbled in complaint.
“When I first crossed this pass to be ordained as a nun knight, it was truly grueling.”

“Enough with the whining.”
Sophia rebuked Hildegard’s grumbling.
“The St. Gotthard Pass is somewhat treacherous, but hardly a dangerous route. Quite a few merchant caravans traverse this very pass.”

“Stop being so patronizing. No matter what you say, the fact remains that neither carriages nor wagons can use this path.”

Higher elevations were blanketed in perennial snow while lower areas were marshlands. Glacial terrain scarred the landscape with crevasses resembling gaping maws, natural pitfalls ever-ready to plunge any incautious, unlucky soul into their depths.

Of course, none in Sophia’s party were frail enough to face mortal peril from such hazards. But there was still an atmosphere to consider.

Crossing the Alb range took nearly a fortnight – an unexpectedly grueling environment for wilderness travel. Yet Sophia the nun knight, Hildegard the nun knight, and Conra the druid-alchemist were well-equipped for such rugged camping with their exceptional skills and resilience.

One night as Conra stirred the stew pot over their campfire, he suddenly remarked:
“Come to think of it, we haven’t encountered any monsters since entering the Alb Mountains.”

He was right – until reaching the mountain range’s borders, they had faced monster or bandit incidents almost daily. But since passing those boundaries, they had yet to encounter a single hostile beast.

Smiling wryly, Hildegard responded:
“That’s not all, is it? Sense the ambient energies around us. Don’t you feel something different?”

Heeding her words, Conra closed his eyes to heighten his mystic perception before exclaiming in surprise:
“Indeed, an astonishingly pure natural force can be felt here. It’s like the land itself delights the elemental spirits.”

More than anything, Conra marveled at the total absence of the miasma’s taint. That such pristine lands still existed – just how was that possible? Sensing his unvoiced query, Sophia chuckled as she poked the campfire with a branch, her tone one of mild bemusement:

“Well, the Alb Mountains are where the Great Ascetic first awakened the luminous force, after all. Many ascetic priests throughout history have since ventured into these mountains to emulate the Great Ascetic’s path. As such a sacred ground, it’s no surprise monsters cannot tread here.”

Upon Sophia’s explanation, Conra’s perception of the mountain scenery shifted. Indeed, appreciating famed landscapes was greatly enriched by the tales behind them.

Vistas he had previously found imposing yet tedious now appeared hallowed beneath the moonlight and stars.
Suddenly, a glint flickered in Conra’s eyes as a thought struck him.
“Then Master, might we potentially encounter practicing ascetic priests here?”
“Who can say? If fate allows, perhaps we shall.”

Yet inwardly, Sophia wondered if encountering them would shatter Conra’s idealized notions of ascetic priests. For as Sophia knew, those who delved into these very mountains to undergo austerities tended to be utter eccentrics.

Most would consider Paladin monk knights and nun knights itinerant oddballs themselves. But at least Sophia never entertained any notion of belonging to that category herself.

From Hildegard’s ensuing serious tone as the smile left her lips, it seemed she shared Sophia’s perspective:
“Allow me to advise you – unless you must, it’s best not to wish for encounters with the ascetic priests dwelling in these mountains. They’re not particularly conducive to mental wellbeing.”

The ascetic priests who climbed into the remote Alb Mountains to engage in profound austerities were the sort maddened by curiosity over ‘just what profound truth or enlightenment the Great Ascetic attained.’ They could be likened to those rare occultists among mages obsessively researching spells – or more aptly, to the ‘grandmasters’ considered pinnacles among such occultists.

Thus, the ascetic priests of the Alb Mountains engaged in all manner of outrageous practices. To maximize bodily exposure and directly experience the Great Ascetic’s lingering will within the mountains, some would wander the snowy peaks stark naked. While others, perfectly capable of walking, opted to ambulate solely on their hands like headstands.

In short, any seemingly ludicrous practices one could conceive had already been attempted, were ongoing, or would inevitably be undertaken by the Alb Mountains’ ascetic priests as a matter of course.

Having heard such accounts from the two nun knights, Conra could only gape in disbelief:
“Eh, surely you don’t mean to that extreme?”
“Of course I do! Would your master and mentor deceive you so flagrantly?”
At Sophia’s forceful affirmation, Conra shuddered as he rubbed his prickling forearms.
“After hearing all that, I sincerely hope we can pass through without any encounters.”
“It won’t be easy, but let us pray for that outcome. Truthfully, they are dreadfully bothersome sorts.”

Sophia and Hildegard both nodded vigorously, echoing Conra’s sentiments.

Yet as always, their hopes betrayed them. No sooner had those words left their lips than a boisterous, resounding laughter assailed their ears:

“Hu ha ha ha ha, Sister Chazelle! While slandering others may not constitute the best lessons for one’s disciples, would you not agree?”

The guffawing laughter seemed distant yet distinctly audible, while simultaneously close yet accompanied by ethereal echoes that reverberated thunderously.

“Oh dear.”
Cold sweat instantly beaded Sophia’s brow as distaste filled her expression – a truly unpleasant look.

As the laughter and reverberations faded, the party’s gazes naturally turned towards a singular point emanating an uncanny, profound presence.

There, a solitary silhouette stood.
Adorned only in a loincloth leaving their rippling musculature bare, the figure’s eyes were concealed by thick rags while their hair hung in dreadlocks bound at the ends, matching their braided beard.

Treading the Alb Mountains’ frosty terrain barefoot, their bulked muscular physique accentuated by the minimal loincloth attire struck an enigmatic pose.

“It has been too long since Sister Chazelle last graced the Alb Mountains! Hearing the news, I have come to greet her and compare the insights and enlightenment she imparted to me on our previous encounter against what I have fervently attained since then!”

Confronted by this overwhelming spectacle that strained human perception, Sophia could only cover her eyes with her palms as a lament escaped her lips.