A Powerful Martial Artist Reincarnates as a Nun Knight

Rotaringhia’s royal palace. The place where the venerable Iron Throne has stood since the kingdom’s founding and establishment of the current capital region Vennatoria.

The carriage carrying Sophia and Conra arrived at this royal palace in the late morning, a couple hours before noon.

A majordomo who had received advance notice greeted the two as they disembarked.

“Welcome to the palatial abode of Rotaringhia’s rightful sovereign who has consecrated seven cities to the supreme celestial deities; the grand capital that enshrines nine noble gems; the glorious court of the most exalted monarch whose Iron Throne resides here.”

The majordomo’s overly grandiose greeting, which would have once exuded national pride, now rang hollow to Conra as he naturally reflected upon hearing it while first stepping out of the carriage.

Such thoughts were unavoidable.

The royal palace that would have normally teemed with nobles and officials now stood hauntingly silent and desolate. Although servants and attendants still remained stationed performing their duties, the eerie absence of those who originally occupied these quarters inevitably evoked a sense of an era’s decline.

This palace’s solitude would likely persist until the current king either awoke to reclaim his place or met his demise to receive a new sovereign.

Confronted by such a melancholy sight, Conra felt an inexplicable pang of sorrow.

Befitting its sheer vastness, navigating the palace’s myriad paths and corridors proved labyrinthine. Only after an extended journey following the majordomo’s guidance could Sophia and Conra finally arrive before the king’s bedchamber doors.

The majordomo opened the doors and stepped aside.

“Please enter.”
“Very well…”

Sophia and Conra exchanged a small nod before proceeding through the open doorway.

Although called the king’s bedchamber, the room’s interior lacked any particularly special trappings – only differing in its larger size compared to ordinary noble manors, and the regal canopied bed draped in ornate curtains.

At first glance, nothing seemed amiss within. Everything appeared properly maintained in an orderly, pristine state. Perhaps the chamber’s attending servants regularly tended to the king’s room and person? If so, it represented a minor solace for the king’s sake.

However, as the two approached closer to the bed, they couldn’t help but wrinkle their noses in disgust. Their initial impression of cleanliness immediately dissipated upon nearing the bed’s vicinity.

“Kuh. Master, this stench…”
“Indeed, it’s foul.”

A horrifically putrid, filthy odor wafted from the king’s bed – utterly unrecognizable as emanating from a living being or the bed itself. Blending discordantly with pungent fragrances, it formed a nauseating miasma.

“It seems they tried concealing the foul odor with strong scents.”

When Sophia inquired to the majordomo who had followed them inside, he responded with a bitter smile:

“We had no choice. One day, the bedridden king’s body began emitting a peculiar stench. No matter how much we bathed him or laundered his bedding, the smell stubbornly persisted.”

Gradually over time, more attendants resigned and left the palace. Conveniently, the officials stationed at the palace also departed to seek other employment. Eventually, budgetary allocations to maintain palace operations ceased altogether, the majordomo confessed.

“We did have ample fragrance pouches in storage to mask the odors until now. But even those have nearly depleted.”

The majordomo’s confession made Sophia and Conra simultaneously furrow their brows. Although normally indifferent to secular rulers’ authority, witnessing such a formerly powerful figure reduced to this pathetic state unavoidably induced discomfort within Sophia too.

Clicking her tongue, she unfolded her spell notebook to newly formulate a spell matrix within her vacant mental sockets through memorization.

After re-storing her notebook, she snapped her fingers – the trigger command releasing her freshly inscribed spell. A radiant glow emanated from her fingertips, enveloping the bed and startling the majordomo.

“Wh-What are you doing?!”
“Remain calm and observe.”
“How can I remain calm when you’re casting spells on His Majesty’s person without warning? Is this why you came?”
“My master means no harm to the king. Just watch and trust her for now.”

Although Conra tried reassuring the frantic majordomo, he wondered if his intervention was even necessary. Sophia had merely projected a veil of light that soon dissipated, revealing the bed and king unharmed – inevitably arousing suspicion regardless.

“Wh-What did you do?”
“I performed some cleaning.”
“Pardon?”
“Smell the air.”

Reflexively wrinkling his nose at Sophia’s casual remark, the majordomo found the previously overwhelming stench of putrid, rotten, and fetid odors had completely vanished.

“I’ve eliminated all filth through that earlier spell. Remove these fragrance pouches immediately – they’ll only hinder the examination.”
“Spells can…do such things?”
“Hmm? Of course not normally. This is a spell only I can create.”

The Cleaning Clear spell Sophia had used produced effects impossible through conventional spell formations. Attempting to magically remove impurities inevitably raised complications – what constituted impurities versus acceptable substances, along with various practical conditions obstructing such ambiguous parameters.

However, that represented the workings of relatively objective and sophisticated general spellcraft systems. The ‘mantra’ Sophia referenced when devising Cleaning Clear followed entirely different operating principles.

Mantras grasped inherently ambiguous targets through utterly subjective channels before manifesting reality accordingly. Successfully transplanting this principle into spellcraft allowed Sophia to somehow realize nebulously-defined spell effects like Cleaning Clear.

“Conra, if you would.”
“Yes, Master!”

At Sophia’s request, Conra stepped forward wielding the willow wand she had brought instead of a sword. Tapping its end against the floor generated an unprecedented flow permeating the room’s interior, circulating the previously stagnant ambient energies.

The two then completed preparations by misting germicidal solution throughout the area using a spray applicator.

Drawing upon her extensive medical knowledge from restoring past-life memories, Sophia began meticulously examining the bedridden king’s condition with eyes and hands.

The king’s emaciated body feebly clung to life, scarcely breathing like a mummy. Sophia’s azure-luminescent gaze pierced his flesh as precisely as medical imaging devices. Likewise, Conra proceeded with his own druidic and alchemical diagnostics.

Eventually, Sophia and Conra shared their findings while recording the king’s status on a prepared anatomical diagram – the overall assessment roughly:

“It seems an Evil Parasite Worm has dominated the region connecting the cerebrum to the brainstem.”

Maintaining respiration at least ruled out brain death or spinal nerve issues causing total paralysis. Judging by symptoms alone, he likely languished in a vegetative or minimally conscious state.

The apparent culprit afflicting this condition seemed a repulsive, worm-like creature nested within that cerebrum-brainstem junction.

“But that’s not the only issue, is it?”
“You’re quite perceptive. This patient suffers systemic, total-body degeneration beyond just his consciousness. All internal organs have atrophied into non-functionality. Dehydration and renal failure are present. The digestive tract appears obstructed too, rendering oral intake impossible. Only basal cardiopulmonary functions barely persist.”

As Sophia continued explaining, the majordomo’s complexion paled further – the stark difference between hearing vague negative assessments versus receiving comprehensive professional diagnoses proving overwhelming.

“At this rate, even regaining consciousness would mean imminent death. He might actually fare better remaining under that Evil Parasite Worm’s metabolic control for now. At minimum, it should prevent the host’s precipitous demise for its own purposes.”

With each additional remark, the majordomo seemed to lose all remaining hope, increasingly despondent bordering on utter despair. Observing his reaction solidified Sophia’s judgement that this man sincerely remained the king’s devoted loyalist.

“Whoa, he’s essentially an entire hospital ward unto himself. How is he even alive?”
“Likely the Evil Parasite Worm’s doing. Well, either way it’s within my ability to treat all this.”
“I figured as much, Master. What’s impossible for ordinary people doesn’t apply to you.”

Amidst their dialogue, the majordomo belatedly regained his senses to urgently interject:

“W-Wait. Are you saying a cure is possible?!”
“Indeed. I have no penchant for deeming the impossible possible. Though this will require quite the significant undertaking.”

Tears welled in the majordomo’s eyes at Sophia’s nonchalant affirmation. Collapsing prostrate, he pleaded desperately:

“Please, I beg you, save His Majesty!”
“No need for such theatrics. That’s precisely why I came. Instead of that, attend closely – you have a role in reviving your lord.”
“I shall do anything! Any task within my ability, name it!”

As the majordomo pledged total devotion, Sophia briefly wondered if he went too far before relaying her request:

“Once word spreads we’ve come to examine the king, others will inevitably seek to interfere. You must stringently control access, preventing anyone from disrupting the examination site. Understood?”
“Without question! I will succeed even sacrificing my life!”
“No need for such extremes. Very well, I shall trust you.”

After dismissing the resolutely sworn majordomo, Sophia and Conra immediately began treatment preparations. Daylight remained limited, yet much needed accomplishing beforehand – akin to the extensive groundwork required before wheels could properly turn.