A Powerful Martial Artist Reincarnates as a Nun Knight

At Karl’s guarded demeanor, the young spearman Conra said to Sophia:
“See, Master! I told you showing up suddenly in the middle of the night would make him suspicious!”
“My, you do nag quite a bit. How can anything be accomplished if you nitpick every little thing? Just observe what your teacher does instead of chattering.”

Dismissing her disciple’s words as nagging, Sophia turned to Karl and said:

“Ahem. Look here, swordsman. It seems you’re quite eager to exercise your muscles right about now. If you grant me a small favor, I’ll oversee your training a bit.”

Even Karl could not help but be intrigued by Sophia’s words. It was indeed the perfect time when he felt the urge to train, yet his status as a defeated prisoner prevented him from doing so. In that situation, to be legally accommodated for training, and moreover by Sophia – the strong one who had lightly defeated him – was an unexpected boon he could not dare request himself.

“So what is this favor you ask of me?”
“Nothing much, I was just wondering if you could have a bout with this squire and disciple of mine?”
“A squire and disciple, you say?”

Karl slowly mulled over Sophia’s words as his gaze naturally fell upon Conra standing beside her. Raising his index finger to point at Conra, he asked:

“You mean spar with this young lad?”
“Just calling me a ‘young lad’ after pointing your finger!”

Though Conra reacted indignantly after silently listening, his reaction was swiftly suppressed by his master’s forceful head-patting.

In any case, after calmly looking Conra over, Karl spoke:
“He seems quite talented and skilled, but I fear he may be a bit too weak to face me?”

It was a mercilessly candid assessment, yet neither Sophia nor Conra took great offense – it was an undeniable, objective fact after all. Sophia simply laughed lightly and said:

“No need for grand expectations, just think of it as a casual instructional bout. This Conra claims he needs a wall to overcome. It may sound rather disrespectful, but that is precisely what I wish to request of you.”

For a warrior of Karl’s caliber, having spent a lifetime refining his art, it was only natural to take immense pride in it. So to have that culmination of his efforts regarded merely as a “wall to overcome” by someone could certainly be heard as disrespectful, as Sophia had pointed out.

This was also a lesson for Conra. While ambition was good, there were times when respect for others should take priority. This was the subtle teaching behind her words.

“Until recently, if faced with such a request, I would have flatly refused without a second thought. I may have even furiously accused you of disrespect.”

However, Karl’s demeanor remained composed, even gentle beyond simply calm – a reaction so detached that Sophia was momentarily taken aback.

In any case, the crucial point was the content, not the tone.

“Well then?”
“Very well. It is also a swordsman’s fulfillment to guide promising young talents. Out of respect for the victor, I shall gladly oblige.”
“Thank you! What a relief, Conra!”

As Sophia happily patted Conra’s back, making a “ttak” sound, the young boy cried out in pain. Karl inwardly sympathized, certain Sophia’s palm had left a stinging imprint on the boy’s back.

Soon, Conra rose while defending against his master’s back smash, bowing respectfully to Karl.

“Thank you for obliging my selfish request, despite its disrespect.”
“Not at all disrespectful. After all, the martial arts are about raising each other up through competition. Clinging to pointless pride would only lead to stagnation. And I do not offer this for free either – remember that my teacher has promised me something far from trivial.”
“I understand.”

At Conra’s reply, Karl found himself increasingly taking a liking to this young man. Audacious yet sufficiently mature, a rare talent combining ability and effort – though Karl’s skills were superior, he was sure to gain something from this bout with the boy.

Having a wall to overcome ahead was certainly a driving force for growth. But having someone persistently chasing from behind was also a reason to continuously strive without pause, was it not?

“Very well, let’s head out then.”
“Understood.”
“Yes, Master.”

The three immediately went to the mansion’s rear garden. Though night had already fallen, making it difficult to see, their enhanced senses allowed them to clearly discern objects in the darkness.

“Allow me to examine your condition first, before we begin.”
“Please, go ahead.”

As Karl assented, Sophia prodded various points of his body to assess his condition. Soon, her hands emitted luminous power as she performed a rudimentary pulse diagnosis, leaving Karl marveling at the comfortable vitality and resilience flowing through his fully invigorated body.

“This is the first time I’ve experienced such prime condition. Is this also an art of the Order?”
“Why would it be? This is my own art.”

Sophia replied with a blank look, as if asking ‘what nonsense is this?’, an expression quite unbecoming of the clergy that made Karl chuckle wryly.

As Sophia took the center of the garden, Karl and Conra stood on opposite sides, keeping the other in view. Sophia asked them:

“Do you need any separate lighting?”
“It would be better without.”
“The same for me, Master.”
“Very well, then let us begin this way. Are you both prepared?”

At Sophia’s question, Karl gripped his longsword while Conra took his spear, each assuming their stances. Seeing their wordless assent, Sophia nodded.

“Defeat will be decided if one side admits defeat or loses consciousness. While I can immediately heal any minor injuries, please still refrain from any excessively dangerous attacks or defenses as much as possible. It would be best not to impose any restrictions on area or time either, as I have already obtained permission – feel free to thoroughly ravage this entire garden over the course of your bout.”

Both Karl and Conra met her gaze in understanding, their eager eyes asking for the starting signal. Seeing their anticipation like hounds awaiting the hunt, Sophia clicked her tongue before finally nodding and raising her hand high.

Suddenly, Karl spoke up:
“Let’s at least introduce ourselves before we begin. I am Karl Hector Mayer. And you, young friend?”
“Conra makku Setanta.”

As Conra replied, Karl quietly laughed.
“A fine name.”
“Then, let the fair —!”

With Sophia’s words as the backdrop, the two warriors crouched tensely like arrows on the bowstring, awaiting the signal. A moment passed that felt like both an instant and an eternity. Then, at last:

As Sophia’s raised hand dropped, two resolute wills clashed upon being unleashed.

+++++

A bout between a spear and a longsword could essentially be considered a ranged fight.
This situation arose from the differing lengths of their respective weapons, causing swordsman and spearman clashes to typically unfold in a set pattern.

The swordsman seeks to intrude within the spearman’s range to bring the opponent within his own. The spearman tries to keep the swordsman outside his range.

Naturally, this meant the swordsman’s movements tended to be aggressive, while the spearman’s were relatively defensive in nature.

However, the clash between Karl and Conra was unfolding in a manner contrary to such conventional weapon tactics.

Conra’s spear techniques advanced with a ferocious, beast-like momentum, highly aggressive and ever-changing. With the lithe, resilient movements of a leaping salmon, Conra unleashed a torrent of continuous thrusts.

He actively utilized the spear’s long reach to continuously vary his gripping position along the shaft. So despite his techniques strictly adhering to the fundamental rhythms of ran, na, and chal, the trajectories and tempos his spearhead traced became extraordinarily dazzling and rhythmic.

In contrast, Karl’s movements were extremely solid with few openings. His sword sphere (kengring), which all swordsmen develop, was like a sturdy fortress meticulously constructed stone by stone. He established anchor points in every direction his sword could reach around him, excelling at reactive fencing techniques accordingly.

Compared to Conra’s aggressive approach, Karl’s movements could appear somewhat defensive in nature.

However, fundamentally, Karl and Conra’s movements adhered to the principles of swordsman versus spearman engagements.

With his firm sword sphere, Karl calmly advanced step-by-step, trying to bring Conra within his range. Meanwhile, Conra used feral, dynamic movements to disrupt the distance between them, attempting to nullify Karl’s efforts.

Watching their clash with folded arms, Sophia marveled at Conra:
“Your skills have improved considerably in just a few days.”

Until now, Sophia had mainly guided Conra’s physical training and studies, without specially instructing him on spear technique forms – she had thought solidifying his foundation first was crucial before techniques became ingrained, lest it become difficult to correct later.

However, by experiencing Sophia’s training methods for both astral muscles and astral brain, Conra had unconsciously adapted his transformed foundation naturally.

Able to see, hear, react more powerfully, solidly, agilely – it was only natural for his techniques to exhibit a different dimension. Surprisingly, Conra’s adaptation was as natural and harmonious as donning a well-fitting garment, despite the adjustments required to overcome bad habits. This was truly talent.

‘This is what talent means.’

Even as Conra clashed with Karl, Sophia smiled while stroking her chin, observing her disciple’s real-time growth.

‘Five years may not even be necessary.’

She revised her estimate of how long it would take for Conra to reach Karl’s current level. Of course, as a talent combining ability and effort, Karl would have also raised his own skills in that timeframe. Ultimately, it would still not be easy for Conra to immediately surpass Karl.

‘How enviable, to have someone to vie against.’

In his previous life, Lee Bum-seok had walked the path to strength alone. In this life, Sophia was too strong from the outset, making it difficult to find challenging opponents.

While the Paladin knights certainly possessed formidable might on par with Sophia as the Order’s pride, both she and they were constantly too busy traversing the continent to properly face each other more than once a year.

As Sophia reflected thus, Karl and Conra’s bout was rapidly approaching its climax, with the situation turning unfavorable for Conra. Regardless of Conra’s remarkable talent and devoted cultivation, at their current point, Karl’s overall parameters held an overwhelming advantage.

In a clash between one who aggressively generates variables and one who stubbornly grasps control of them, if the latter’s capacity is greater, the former’s means will gradually become restricted, forcing them into an inescapable predicament.

Eventually, having fully acknowledged his defensive position, Conra leapt back with a wide sweep of his spear, opening distance between himself and Karl.

“Admittedly, you are stronger than me for now, uncle. But don’t let your guard down. With this next move, I’ll show you everything I’ve got!”
“What? Uncle? ……Ugh, come!”
“Here I go!”

With rising spirit, Conra took a stance while spinning his spear, then narrowed his eyes as he glared at Karl. He had momentarily awakened and suppressed his druidic and alchemical senses, fully concentrating his heightened perception as a spearman through a focused trance technique.

To Sophia’s eyes, Conra’s astral muscles swelled as his astral brain flickered with agile responses. Facing him, Karl condensed his sword sphere to appear like a thin skin, quietly centering himself while gathering strength and focus.

It was Conra’s resounding battlecry that finally broke the standoff:

“Gae-Bolg, Bane!”

Was that a technique name? Accompanied by a cry in his father Setanta’s native Erin dialect, the young man’s figure shot forward like a loosed javelin. Though initially reminded of a ‘life-or-death charge’ by his reckless momentum, Karl’s sharp, wide vision soon noticed Conra’s rhythmic, enigmatic footwork propelling him forward, immediately revising his judgment.

‘The momentum was a feint. The real threat is that stride technique!’

Having judged, he had to react instantly. In a moment, Conra’s spearpoint was already before Karl’s face. With a mind as serene as a still lake, Karl raised his longsword in a middle guard position.

For an instant, Karl’s sword tip and Conra’s spearpoint crossed paths. In that momentary pause, as if time had stopped, Karl pulled back his extended longsword, deflecting Conra’s spearpoint over his shoulder. He immediately took an unprecedentedly deep step forward, thrusting his sword in a long middle guard extension.

This entire sequence of continuous movements unfolded swiftly in an instant. When their motions came to a complete halt, the outcome was clear – Conra’s long spear had been deflected over Karl’s shoulder, while Karl’s longsword rested against Conra’s collarbone.