A Powerful Martial Artist Reincarnates as a Nun Knight

He was utterly uncanny.
Clad only in a minimal loincloth that bared his rippling musculature, his eyes were concealed by thick rags while his hair hung in dreadlocks bound at the ends, matching his braided beard.

Standing barefoot on the Alb Mountains’ perennial snow, he struck an enigmatic pose – part bodybuilding display, part dance move.

“Your muscles have become even more impressive.”
Having barely regained her composure, Sophia remarked admiringly at the man’s physique.
His massively bulked muscles possessed remarkably defined contours like chiseled sculptures, flaunting an artistic corporeal beauty whether his actual flesh or astral form.

“Do you know how many sleepless nights I endured to surpass the lingering echoes of the enlightenment you imparted to me that day, Sister Chazelle? Layer upon layer of anguish enveloped me, a quagmire of convoluted thoughts obscuring my awakened mind’s depths.”

As he spoke, he slowly transitioned into another pose. His undulating muscles and tendons smoothly shifted forms to accompany his altered stance.

A side chest pose akin to an avant-garde fashion editorial – as he completed it, his overwhelming presence and pressure swept the surroundings. The shimmering haze was violently disrupted, and weaker-willed observers felt their spirits physically crushed by the mere aftershocks.

“Yet through unflinching, relentless effort, I finally attained it – the true power of light to vanquish nefarious beings!”

Babam!
An emphatic pronouncement as if punctuated by that sound effect. And remarkably, Sophia and Hildegard witnessed a pristine luminous force blossoming like an aureole, draping over his muscles like resplendent robes.

“Strength begets light! And since that day, I have not faltered in maintaining this empowered state for even an instant. Thus, the light finally responded to me.”

No, this wasn’t the time for her usual snark.
Recalling how she had once verbally trounced an innocent ascetic priest while crossing these very mountains, Sophia cursed her karmic debt.

Regardless, the sight of his muscular form coated in compressed radiant splendor like luminous garments was undeniably sublime and sacred – as if beholding a sanctified human icon.

In the end, a visitor had arrived, so Sophia had no choice but to receive him properly.
Rising from her seat, Sophia’s astral muscles bulked up before she fluidly transitioned into a Tai Chi stance, faint golden and jade luminous forces rippling like a radiant aura around her form.

“Come forth. Let me test you.”
“Ho! I’m coming! Let us cross palms once more!”

The muscular man’s uncanny silhouette seemed to slide closer without any visible muscular shifts – an eerie sight that unsettled Conra, making him instinctively recoil at the inhuman movements reminiscent of a wheeled mannequin.

Yet upon closer observation, Conra, accustomed to the salmon leap, discerned subtle footwork techniques that allowed this ascetic priest to maintain stable, towering balance despite such outlandish postures.

And soon, Sophia’s and the man’s forearms intersected.
What ensued was an intense grappling match to destabilize each other’s roots. Perceiving shifts through mystic senses, they fluidly adapted – deflecting, yielding, advancing and withdrawing in turns. Swaying left and right, twisting this way and that, rising and falling to control their opponent’s momentum through ingenious techniques.

Naturally, the larger man held the innate advantage in such contests of leverage. However, Sophia deftly employed lightness skills and gravity-defying stances to completely offset her size and weight disadvantages from the outset.

Gradually, dull thumps began echoing from their intersecting forearms as their pivoting stances traced circular arcs. Yet neither paid any heed until, with simultaneous grunts of “Hut!” they shoved apart, retreating a few paces.

“Your strength manipulation has become tremendously refined.”
“You have not lost your edge either, Sister Chazelle. When things reach their extremes, the principle of reversion manifests organically in one’s movements. To embody enlightenment, it seems mastering nature’s fundamental laws must still take precedence.”

As the two exchanged respectful appraisals, Conra prepared additional portions of food and drink.
Over hearty stew and cups of warm herbal tea, the ascetic priest Ezio Emmanuele remarked:

“Even these hallowed peaks cannot escape the demons’ unrest. Might Sister Chazelle be attending the Council to report on this matter?”

“Indeed, that is so. Has Priest Ezio awakened some mystical power through his austerities here to discern matters so keenly?”

To Sophia’s affirmation, Priest Ezio slowly stroked his braided beard.

“Well, I’ve simply become a bit more perceptive, that’s all. But if that is the case, then I have a request.”
“Hmm, and what would that be?”

Sophia tensed. Just what did this eccentric want? With such an inscrutable person, what outrageous demand might he make? Yet contrary to her apprehensions, Priest Ezio’s request proved surprisingly mundane:

“Allow me to accompany you.”
“What?”

Mundane yet not so simple.
If nowhere else, the ascetic priests and nuns of the Alb Mountains all engaged in outrageous practices to grasp even a sliver of the Great Ascetic’s enlightenment. To Sophia’s previous incarnation, they were akin to mad scientists donning black trench coats and paper bags over their heads.

Just look at this man’s outrageously uncanny fashion sense.

Observing Ezio transition into another pose amplifying his profound presence, Sophia agonized further. Each time that eerie presence intensified, the luminous force thinly enveloping her skin seemed to densify, though it was likely her imagination. Sophia resolutely ignored Ezio’s overbearing aura, feigning obliviousness.

“While I have no reason to stop you from accompanying us, but why? For your kind, leaving these hallowed peaks – the Alb Mountains – should be an option more difficult than ending your own life.”

The Alb Mountains were renowned for ascetic priests entering to undergo austerities, but hardly any returning once they delved within.

It made sense – these ascetic priests all engaged in bizarre practices. No matter how strange or outlandish one’s actions, as long as they didn’t transgress human decency, nobody intervened. In fact, they empathized and even discussed each other’s eccentricities.
Combined with these training environments and their religious aspirations, this place was practically a worldly paradise for them. So for Ezio to voluntarily propose leaving struck Sophia as inherently suspicious.

“Of course, these mountains remain my homeland, the place I must ultimately return to. There is nowhere else for me. But these are not ordinary times, are they?”

Evil stirs, Ezio elaborated – not just the Archdemon’s declaration of war, but some malign undercurrent now obstructing humanity’s path in this Iron Age, a premonition he had awakened to through his austerities.

“An era when a human’s aid is needed. No matter how fervently one pursues enlightenment, would it not be putting the cart before the horse to abandon human dignity?”

“Then why accompany us, specifically?”
“Because there is a current to Sister Chazelle’s path.”

While all lived their own lives flowing along their respective currents, Ezio explained, some existed within great currents exerting powerful gravitational forces that swept up surrounding flows.

“I cannot foresee what lies at that current’s end. But if I wished to lend a hand for this world’s sake, following Sister Chazelle may currently be the best recourse available to me. Will you permit it?”

Swayed by his plausible words, Hildegard and Conra nodded admiringly – “Ho, how lofty and noble!” Abashed by their own prejudices against the Alb ascetics, they felt compelled to reevaluate their biases. Yet Sophia remained stoically unmoved as she pressed:

“Hmm, and your true motive?”
“To empathize with the struggles and anguish the Great Ascetic must have experienced while interring his ancient foes.”

Ah, there it was – the ulterior motive she expected.
Accepting Ezio’s candid response, Sophia nodded in comprehension. Very well then. Humanitarian concerns were likely not the Alb ascetics’ strong suits, if her memory served.

While clergy who cultivated the luminous force placed them among the continent’s most virtuous echelons, their skewed priorities manifested glaringly through their mindsets and conduct far beyond mere eccentricities.

“Very well. Having you accompany us would certainly be helpful. At least your skills seem genuine.”
“So this priest will be joining us?”
Hildegard inquired, and Sophia affirmed with a nod before Ezio stated:
“Please, call me Priest Ezio, not ‘this priest.’ Though even Ezio feels too formal, so I would appreciate if you simply addressed me as Ezio.”
“Hmm, I shall count on your support then, Priest Ezio.”
“Ah, I’m in your care as well.”

Conra also welcomed him, happy to have a proper adult male join their previously all-female party. However, in contrast to the others, Sophia asked Ezio with a somber expression:

“So then, do you intend to remain in that attire even after descending the mountain?”

Sophia raised a crucial point. Ezio’s current appearance – a minimal loincloth, bare feet, an ornate stone rosary hanging from his neck, and an avant-garde hairstyle with braided beard – would undoubtedly mark him as an aberrant upon leaving the mountains. Yet Ezio firmly answered:

“Certo che lo farò. (Of course I shall.)”