Alex sat cross-legged in his sub-dimension, surrounded by thick, swirling mana. He'd been cultivating for hours, enduring the familiar pain as he let the energy seep into his body. Slowly, he felt a surge of strength building, an invisible barrier within him loosening and then shattering in a sudden, exhilarating release. A rush of power spread through his muscles, and he clenched his fists, feeling a newfound resilience in his flesh and bones.
"Well, that was… intense," he muttered, slightly winded.
[Congratulations, Host. You've broken through to Stage 3.] Nova's voice, for once, sounded genuinely pleased. [Let's see what your stats look like now.]
With a flicker, his status screen appeared before him.
Status Screen
Overall Cultivation: G (Altering Muscle Stage)
Name: Alexander Argoth
Race: Human/???
Title: - (To Be Discovered)
Class: - (Currently Locked)
Talent: Sub-Dimension (Rank: S, Growth-Type)
Affinity: Space-Time (Grade: Unknown)
Cultivation Manual: Origin Creation Manual
Stats:
Mana: G
Strength: G
Agility: G
Intelligence: G
Stamina: G
Alex grinned, feeling stronger than he ever had before. He pushed himself up from his meditation, stretching his arms and legs experimentally. His muscles felt different—firmer, yet more flexible—and as he dropped into a few light exercises, he could tell his strength had nearly tripled. He lifted a heavy stone he'd brought into his sub-dimension, surprised by how effortlessly he could now hold it above his head with one arm. The newfound power in his muscles was undeniable.
"Not bad at all," he said with a chuckle, dropping the stone and looking down at his arms"
To his surprise, his skin looked noticeably different. It had taken on a smooth, porcelain-like quality, almost resembling fine ceramic. He touched his forearm, feeling the resilience in his flesh. It was as if his skin now acted as a barrier, filtering the mana around him and storing it within a space he couldn't yet access.
"This must be the effect of Stage 3," he mused, glancing through the Origin Creation Manual to find more about his altered body. He noticed a section explaining that as he progressed, his body would adapt to house the "Origin," transforming piece by piece to accommodate this powerful foundation.
[Looks like you're on your way to becoming something other than human,] Nova teased. [Space-time muscles, space-time flesh… You're practically a whole new species, Host.]
He chuckled, snapping the book shut. "Sounds like fun. Let's keep going."
After dressing, Alex headed to breakfast, where he found his father and sister already seated. James greeted him with a nod, while Olivia glanced his way with her usual skepticism.
"Oh, look," Olivia said with a mocking smirk. "You're actually keeping up with the breakfast routine. I figured you'd have quit by now."
Alex rolled his eyes, grabbing a seat across from her. "Nice to see you too, Olivia. Always so encouraging."
James sighed, glancing between the two with mild exasperation. "Can we get through one meal without you two at each other's throats?"
"Fine by me," Alex said, giving his sister a pointed look. Olivia just huffed and looked away, and they finished breakfast in relative peace, though Alex noted the amused glances James gave him every now and then.
After breakfast, Alex headed out to the courtyard, where Alfred was already waiting, standing tall and calm. As Alex approached, Alfred's eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile crossed his face.
"You've broken through to the next stage," Alfred observed, his tone approving.
Alex blinked, a bit taken aback. He hadn't mentioned anything yet. How did he—
[I told you he wasn't as simple as he seems,] Nova whispered with a hint of amusement in her voice.
Alex swallowed his surprise, giving Alfred a nod. "Yeah, I did. It was… intense, but I managed."
"Good," Alfred replied, eyeing him with quiet pride. "Now, since you have your own cultivation path, I'll focus on teaching you about the different ways people here fight. Tomorrow, we'll visit the arena so you can observe firsthand. But today, I'll be training you in swordsmanship."
Alfred reached into his space ring, pulling out a katana. The blade was slim, with a single sharp edge, and its hilt was wrapped in a smooth black leather grip. He handed it to Alex, who took it with both hands, feeling a thrill at the weight and balance of the weapon.
"A katana," Alfred said, his tone serious. "From this point forward, you'll be responsible for keeping it with you at all times. A true swordsman is never without his blade. You must be able to draw it and strike at a moment's notice."
Alex nodded, sheathing the katana and securing it at his waist, feeling the weight settle against his hip. "Understood."
Alfred's gaze softened just a fraction before he began his lesson. "In the body path, people cultivate weapon arts to enhance their physical attacks. Mages, meanwhile, cast spells from their cores. For now, we'll focus on weapon arts, since spellcasting requires you to reach F-rank before you can harness mana externally."
He paused, giving Alex an assessing look. "Given your rapid progress, I expect you to reach F-rank within a month. Normally, it would take an average person a year, and even talented cultivators need several months."
Alex's chest swelled with pride. "Thank you, Alfred. I'll do my best to meet your expectations."
Alfred nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Since you're new to swordsmanship, let's start with the basic forms. Watch closely."
Alfred took his stance, the katana held low, his feet balanced. He demonstrated each form in turn, moving through them with practiced grace.
"The basic forms of katana usage," he said, gesturing with each movement. "First, Jodan-no-kamae, a high stance for aggressive strikes. Then Chudan-no-kamae, the middle stance, ideal for balanced defense and attack. Lastly, Gedan-no-kamae, the low stance for counterattacks."
Alex mirrored each form, feeling the different stances shift his balance and focus. He struggled at first, his movements stiff, but Alfred's patient guidance helped him gradually find a rhythm.
After an hour of practice, Alfred stepped back. "Now that you understand the basics, it's time for some real practice. Defend yourself."
Before Alex could fully process the command, Alfred swung at him with a swift, precise arc. Alex barely managed to dodge, feeling the edge of the blade nick a few strands of his hair.
"Hey!" he yelped, stumbling back. "Isn't this a bit much for my first day?"
Alfred didn't relent, his expression calm and unyielding. "Life isn't fair, Alex. Your enemies won't wait for you to be ready."
He advanced again, and Alex gritted his teeth, raising his katana to parry. They moved in a blur of strikes and dodges, Alfred's attacks relentless yet precise. He deflected each of Alex's counters with ease, his movements smooth as if he were dancing.
The courtyard filled with the clash of blades as Alex struggled to keep up. Every swing of Alfred's katana forced him to react, shifting between stances and making split-second decisions. His arms grew heavier with each parry, and his breathing grew ragged, but he refused to give up.
Alfred's attacks intensified, and Alex found himself slipping into the forms they'd practiced. He moved instinctively, using Chudan-no-kamae to guard against direct strikes and switching to Gedan-no-kamae for low sweeps. His dodges became smoother, and for a brief moment, he felt in sync with the rhythm of the fight.
But Alfred's skill far outmatched his own, and as the session dragged on, exhaustion caught up with him. After a final, desperate parry, Alex stumbled, his knees buckling as he struggled to catch his breath.
Alfred stopped, sheathing his katana. "You did well for your first time," he said, a hint of approval in his voice. "You're learning quickly."
Alex managed a tired grin, barely able to stand. "Thanks… I think."
Without warning, the exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
An hour later, a sudden splash of cold water shocked him awake. Spluttering, he looked up to see Alfred standing over him, an empty bucket in hand.
"Time to move on to academic studies," Alfred announced.
They moved to a small study area near the courtyard, where Alfred laid out several thick volumes. The first part of the lesson focused on equations and calculations, and Alex's head swam as he tried to make sense of the formulas in front of him. Numbers and symbols blurred as he stumbled through each problem, trying to catch up to Alfred's explanations.
"Alright, try this one," Alfred said, pointing to an equation that seemed even more complex. "Take it step by step."
Alex stared at the numbers, his brows knit together in concentration. Slowly, he began to piece together the logic behind the equation. To his surprise, he started to make progress, breaking down the steps and seeing how the pieces fit together. Though the math was challenging, he found a strange satisfaction each time he completed a problem correctly.
"Not bad," Alfred commented as Alex finished the last equation. "You're getting the hang of it."
They moved on to language exercises next, and Alex faced a new set of challenges. He struggled through grammar and sentence structure, tripping over syntax and unfamiliar words. But with Alfred's patient guidance, he began to grasp the basics, each new concept clicking into place bit by bit.
"Now, history," Alfred said, moving on to the next subject. Alex felt a flicker of relief—he knew this was where he would shine. As Alfred explained Astria's historical events, Alex found himself recalling details effortlessly. Names, dates, and locations came back to him as though he'd studied them a hundred times before, and he answered Alfred's questions with growing confidence.
Alfred gave him a scrutinizing look, though there was a trace of approval in his gaze. "You know this well. Surprising, given your background."
By the time Alfred dismissed him, Alex felt drained, both physically and mentally. He gave a weary nod of thanks before stumbling back to his room. His body cried out for rest, and as he collapsed onto his bed, barely able to keep his eyes open, he heard Nova's voice about to remind him to cultivate—but seeing his state, she softened.
[Sweet dreams, Host. Not that you can hear me.]