(IC) Chapter 333 - My Path

The old nodes from the Standard States were gone—extinguished, forgotten—but in their place a new lattice flickered awake.

Not muscle alone, not mind alone, but a framework woven from both. His nerves pulsed with a clarity that was not purely reflex but not purely thought, an in-between state where intent and motion blurred. Every tendon, every muscle fibre felt tied to thought itself, and every thought was coloured by the language of the body.

It was as if the Pillar had taken his flesh as its canvas, drawing its lattice across veins and nerves, wiring perception into bone and sinew. And the Body, in return, was painting itself into his mind, embedding instinct and reflex into thought, making calculation visceral.

A hum spread through him—subtle but steady. No rush of raw strength, no flood of blinding clarity, but something more… complete. Balanced.

When his eyes opened, the forest hadn’t changed, yet it felt like an entirely new world. The colours were sharper, but not from the Pillar alone—the bark’s texture carried weight, its grooves whispering of resistance if struck. The air smelled of pine and earth, but the body translated that into instinct—how the wind might bend an arrow, how the soil might give under a sprint.

Even his breath moved differently. Inhale, and his heart knew it as rhythm. Exhale, and his muscles knew it as command. Thought and body no longer ran parallel—they were one.

He had done it.

Alonso flexed his fingers slowly. The motion was ordinary, almost trivial, yet every joint and tendon answered with a precision, as though his flesh had been replaced with something smarter. He rolled his shoulders and felt thought ripple through them before motion even finished.

Minutes. That was all it had taken to set the foundation and build the State. But the difference was vast.

“And this is just the first,” he murmured, the words nearly lost to the whispering canopy above. His grin came unbidden, quiet but sure. “Still weaker than before, though.”

He still felt oddly weak, yet not as much as he had expected. Beneath the surface, there was something more to this new state than a simple 50 to 60% increase. It wasn’t only a matter of numbers. It was structural, foundational. A different architecture altogether. He couldn’t help but wonder what the Extreme Paths might feel like in comparison, each carving the body or mind into sharpened edges without compromise.

Such a marvellous thing.

He drew in a slow breath, then another, steadying himself. The First State was just the foothold—a fraction of what lay ahead. Compared to the next stage, this was little more than a sketch. Yet even so, he was confident. Confident he could reach the Second within a day.

“Interesting,” Houston’s voice broke in, bright with a spark of fascination. “Really fascinating how both Pillar and Body are now piggybacking on the same nodes. No wonder it’s irreversible—the lattice dependency is total. Once fused, the system can’t separate them without collapse. It’s like a double helix—two strands wound together. Before, Pillar and Body were like parallel chains: strong on their own, coordinated but separate. Now they’re wound, spliced into one rope. Try pulling them apart, and you’re not left with two ropes—you’re left with frayed fibres.”

He paused, clearly mulling it over.

“Your nerves are now acting as both carrier and amplifier. Normally, nerves just pass signals from brain to muscle, like copper wire carrying current. Now, they’re resonant conduits. They feed the Pillar lattice with biological rhythms—heartbeat, breath, muscle tension. Which means your body itself is an active part of the processing framework. You’re not just moving faster—you’re thinking with your flesh. Your reflex arcs are basically being hijacked into your simulation loops.”

Alonso exhaled slowly, trying to map what Houston was saying to what he felt.

“Which also means,” Houston added, excitement rising, “you’re running a closed feedback circuit. Body signals sharpen the Pillar, Pillar feedback hones the body. It’s recursive, self-stabilising, self-correcting. Honestly? It’s not just efficient, it’s elegant. No wasted cycles. No partition walls. You’re running on a unified field now.”

Alonso chuckled faintly, the new state flowing steady beneath his skin. “Really impressive… and impossible to undo, huh. Not that I see a reason to.”

“Yes,” Houston replied. “Once you step onto this path, there’s no turning back. It irreversibly changes you. But the payoff—hah, I’d kill to run the maths on what happens at the higher States.”

Alonso nodded, very satisfied with how it had turned out, most of his fears laid to rest. Yet there was still one last step before he could claim it a full success.

“Alright… let’s give the microcapacitors a shot,” he said, a thread of unease running beneath his words. Numbers said it should work fine, but numbers weren’t the same as truth. It was like saying you understood how to forge steel just because you’d once carved wood.

“On it,” Houston replied. “As we discussed, in theory the microcapacitor system should still function. It builds on the body, fueled through the Pillar, and it never tied directly into your node structure. The question isn’t whether it works—it’s whether it can even be formed starting from the First Fusion State. Last time, the Second Standard was your anchor. Now, the foundation is different. ”

Alonso exhaled slowly, weighing the risk. “The base might be weaker, but if we strip the model down, keep fewer internals, it should stabilize. Less capacity, sure, but a better foundation.”

“Yes. Simplify, then scale up later,” Houston said. “Go ahead. I’ll watch the margins and scream if something’s about to blow.”

Alonso snorted under his breath, shaking his head, then lowered himself to the ground.

This was different from his approach to the States. Those demanded movement, strikes, swordsmanship, perception, the rhythm of blades striking through the void. The microcapacitors, though… they were patience. Balance. A structure not hammered into being, but coaxed into shape.

He slowed everything down until the world was just pulse, breath, faint heat under the skin.

The first point lit—low in his calf, where muscle met tendon. He held it, tested the strain. Too much and the fibres twitched uncontrollably. Too little and the spark winked out before it even stabilised.

He adjusted. Breathed. Kept it alive.

Another—across the shoulder, binding into the joint. Then one in his forearm. Dozens more followed, each one a bead of fire sunk into flesh, each demanding its own measure of current. Every new spark tugged at the last, tilting the whole structure off-balance. He had to rebalance constantly, shifting energy like sand between cupped hands, never letting it spill.

Minutes stretched. The pattern thickened. Hundreds of nodes pulsed inside him, each a microforge storing its own charge. He let them speak to one another—testing resonance, feeding back and forth until the strain eased.

And then the moment came sudden, sharp—like a chord snapping into tune.

The sparks no longer dragged against one another. They sang.

Resonance had been reached.

Alonso exhaled, relaxing like a surgeon after a successful operation.

A smile broke across his face.

Before him, a prompt flickered into being:

Path of Shards – 7.002%

The skill had regressed from the 9.3% he had once pushed it to, now hovering just above the lower limit. Yet the simple fact it was shown here, in this weaker First Fusion State, meant only one thing.

He had found the way.

Back then, it had been a live-or-die gamble—perhaps a miracle, perhaps The Tower lending him a hand. He had thought the configuration perfect. Now he understood: it had never been perfection, only a foundation—a structure to be refined, advanced, and bound tighter to his States with every step forward.

Finally, it all aligned.

His swordsmanship and perception realms didn’t just dictate how far he could push No-Strike—they set the ceiling of his States themselves. The States in turn determined how far he could expand the microcapacitor lattice, and that lattice pushed the ceiling of Path of Shards.

All connected—technique, skills, and States, with mind and body no longer separate, but one.

Alonso grinned up at the clear sky. The path he had forged—his and his alone—now stood clear before him. Complete. All that remained… was to walk it through to the end.

“Houston…” he murmured, lips quirking into a grin. “I guess we don’t have a problem.”

Ayu sat cross-legged in the grass, the shade of the village huts scattered behind her.

The crackle of a bonfire carried from the centre of the settlement, voices rising and falling in bursts of chatter. The smell of roasting meat and spice drifted on the breeze, sharp and heavy, clinging to her tongue even at this distance.

Ayu had chosen to train here. It suited her better than solitude and, more importantly, with Makoh nearby, she considered it the safest place in this stage.

Resetting the States had felt like she’d just died, buried under the ground and sealed in a coffin. Blind, deaf, numb, completely crippled.

It wasn’t good… at all.

So she rushed to push into the First Extreme Body State, desperate to shake off the choking weakness crawling through her veins.

Yet the more she studied the path, the more bewildered she grew. Where even were the nodes now?

And the Pillar… it had to be linked as a passive energy source for the body? Passive— as in all the time? Her Pillar would feed straight into her muscles?

This…

She’d thought it would just be a bit different. But this was something else entirely. Another beast. Would her old knowledge even help? Chiara was sharp with diagrams, numbers and signals, sure, but besides the plain instructions, Ayu doubted she knew much, if any, of the real Body Path. Had she judged too fast?

Worry crept under her skin. She was on a timer, after all, and she’d just reset her whole States without looking back. Had she been reckless?

No.

No, come on, Ayu. This was her thing. Different, yeah—but her body was her ground. She knew it better than anyone. Her Anokh’tai (Understanding of I) had already reached the level of the beastman Master Warriors—maybe even surpassed them. She wasn’t bluffing herself.

She drew a deep breath, feeling into her frame.

Ok. First thing first. The start was similar: use the Pillar to supply energy to the body, kill and regrow the cells, stronger each time. But now… instead of carving space for nodes, she had to carve pathways. Links stretching from the Pillar into every key piece of flesh. Like nerves, except they weren’t activators anymore—they were suppliers. Feeding.

And once those channels were set, she had to keep drilling the flow, hammering pulses through muscle and bone until they reshaped completely around it. Not just enhanced—rebuilt.

Reconstructed, piece by piece.

Another biological network, like the vascular or nervous systems—but instead of connecting to the heart or the mind, this one linked directly to the Pillar itself.

She focused and started.

The first pulse ripped through her like fire poured straight into her marrow. Every nerve screamed, every tendon felt like it was tearing loose. She hissed, spitting to the side, sweat stinging her lips.

“Damn—hurts a hell more than the first time,” she muttered, but her fists stayed tight.

The EM waves from the Pillar shoved their current deeper, boring through her muscles, carving channels where none existed. Fibres split, tore, then knitted again, thicker, denser, feeding off the stream. Her bones thrummed as if hammered on an anvil, splintering under the pressure only to weld back stronger.

She bent forward, forehead pressing to the grass, teeth grinding. Each breath came ragged, broken into gasps. The pain was rawer, sharper than before, because this wasn’t just overlaying power—it was remaking her from the inside out.

But she didn’t stop.

Pulse after pulse, strike after strike, until the rhythm was hers. Until the flow didn’t tear but carried. Until her frame caught it and bent with it, like steel beaten soft enough to shape.

The rhythm started to turn. The violence of it shifted, smoothed, not because it grew kinder—but because her body caught the beat. Muscles didn’t just burn, they drank. Bones didn’t just rattle, they resonated.

Pulse. Strike. Tear. Regrow.

Again.

Again.

Until her whole frame was moving to it—heart pumping like a war drum, blood surging in time with the Pillar, breath cutting in sharp, perfect beats.

Then—snap.

The pain didn’t vanish, but it bent, folded, wove into her. The flow wasn’t tearing her apart anymore. It was hers.

Her chest rose. Her spine straightened. Her eyes flew open.

And the world slammed into her.

Not brighter. Closer. Every sway of grass, every flick of dust, every shift in the wind hitting her skin like a whisper made of steel. Colours deeper. Edges sharper. Her whole body alive, thrumming, not with borrowed power—but with something that was her.

She stood in one smooth motion, bouncing once on her toes. The ground answered, dirt and grass scattering from the force. Her arms flexed, and it was like her tendons were cables strung tight to break mountains.

A wild, ragged laugh tore out of her throat.

“Yeah… that’s it.”

The First Extreme Body State.

Despite the pain, relief washed through her. She was still weaker than her prime, sure—but this path… yes, this was her path.

There was more to it than just a stronger State. She could feel it—energy rolling inside her like a second heartbeat, her muscles thrumming as if they could run, fight, and burn forever without faltering. This wasn’t just endurance. It wasn’t just stamina. It was life itself, wired tighter, running hotter.

A qualitative change. Not just an upgrade. A rebirth.

And she knew. This would guide her forward. This sealed off the Pillar path, shut the door behind her. But for Ayu… it had always been that way.

There was always just one road.

Up.

She grinned, teeth bared, steadying herself as her body mended faster than it ever had. The regeneration didn’t just chew through her natural reserves—it pulled straight from the Pillar, patching torn fibres, stitching bone, feeding her whole frame in real time.

Now… time for the next.