Closing my eyes and activating Spatial Perception, the world around me transformed into a grid. The grid patterns enveloped everything, but seemed incomplete, particularly around the trees. The sense of presence from the trees was unlike the detailed grid that formed on the ground. It was similar to the sense of movement from the Wendigos.

During the fight with the Wendigos, I had noticed this disparity. Their movements in my spatial perception appeared as whole surfaces without any grid, but with a sense of movement, speed, and shape. Now I could observe the trees without any movement in the same sense that I was able to observe the Wendigos.

It must be a combination of the skills. The sense of presence was already there from the skill book, but I had introduced my own interpretation to form the surrounding ground. Anything on the ground could be easily seen within the grid pattern, but that couldn't be said about vertical things. They only provided a sense of presence.

Now, I'm in a dilemma about what to do with my spatial perception. Go the grid route or the sense of presence in Spatial Perception?

After pondering for a bit, the answers became clear to me. While the sense of presence was all good and reliable, I had no clue how I got those or how to enhance it further. Familiar with the grid, it felt like my only viable choice. There existed an ideal skill to combine both, but that was just my inner perfectionist whispering sweet impossibilities.

So, instead of cramming both ideas into a single, confused mess, I decided to focus on refining what I knew. If I failed, I would simply read the skill book and discard all this grid talk.

Focusing intently on my skill, I tried to expand the grid onto the trees. The familiar mana pattern of spatial perception enveloping my mind began to shift. My brow furrowed, and I could feel the slight tension in my muscles as I concentrated, but there was only a small reaction. The grid near the roots started climbing up before halting abruptly, no more than half a foot up.

Confusion gripped me as I realized the issue was my approach: I had only established two axes.

Without a vertical axis, the skill could manage minor elevation changes on the ground but failed entirely to grasp the vertical dimension.

Should I add another axis? But what if there is a problem in handling the information? 2D and 3D are vastly different, with a significant increase in the number of points.

My mind raced with the implications, but I stopped myself from spiraling into another tangent. Instead of worrying endlessly, I resolved to take the plunge.

Refocusing, I took a moment to adjust, breathing deeply to center myself. Taking myself as the core, I imagined the X-axis spreading outward from my hands and the Y-axis extending front to back. Slowly, I introduced the Z-axis, originating from my toes and extending to the top of my head. I deliberately limited my skill to avoid any sensory overload.

Using my sense of presence of the twisted tree as a reference, the grid started extending upwards, and a sharp intake of information flooded my mind. My sense sharpened, and the familiar sounds of the forest became a backdrop to the grid forming on the tree before me. However, the range of my skill started to decrease again.

My range had increased to five feet after Spatial Perception leveled to ten, but now it decreased until it settled at a mere three feet. The twisted trunk and gnarled branches of the tree before me became a complex pattern of intersecting lines and points.

The sense of presence I had felt seemed muted, buried beneath the intricate grids. This new level of perception was overwhelming, but with practice, I knew I could master it.

Opening my eyes at the success, I used the upgraded sense with my eyes. And found my eyesight and Spatial Perception clashing, the two perspectives struggling for dominance. It felt like trying to watch two different movies on the same screen.

My vision, accustomed to the natural way of seeing the world, was now competing with the intricate grid overlay from my Spatial Perception. A dull ache spread through my temples, and I winced, the sensation akin to pulling an all-nighter and then sitting through a three-hour lecture. My mind felt stretched, struggling to process the conflicting information.

I had relied heavily on this skill in dim settings where the range of my eyesight and Spatial Perception aligned perfectly. Now, the expanded vision felt disorienting, the clash of perspectives throwing me off balance. A chuckle escaped my lips at the absurdity of it all, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet forest.

It was as if my vision had expanded, giving me an almost omniscient view of the area around me. The detailed sense tapered off after about three feet, and then the surroundings appeared only in the natural eye vision without details or a grid.

That was quite a unique experience. There I was at the center of a three-foot circle where I could sense anything inside it. My own little world. Then there was the normal world outside, staying just as always within my eyesight.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

For the first time, I truly grasped how difficult it is to develop a skill that introduces additional senses to the human body and how advanced the skill book should be for it to easily merge a new sense with my vision.

The sense of perception I gained from the skill book had seamlessly integrated with my eyesight. Initially, the 2D grid on the ground didn't cause any dissonance since it was in its early stages, and the information was minimal.

However, now that my Spatial Perception had advanced significantly, and the details collected by the skill had increased tremendously, I think I had to adapt my mind to handle the enhanced senses.

Our five natural senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch—each cover a wide array of information without overlapping. The sense of smell, for instance, doesn't interfere with sight, touch, or hearing. Each of these senses provides distinct information, never conflicting with one another.

However, now I faced the challenge of two senses clashing over overlapping data, creating a unique and complex situation.

I realized that even though my initial adjustments might eventually work, it would require significant time and practice to refine them for regular use.

Refocusing on the present moment, I took a deep breath to center myself. The forest around me was alive with sounds and movements, each contributing to the immersive experience. The damp earth's scent mingled with the decaying leaves, creating a musky aroma that clung to my senses.

First, I stopped using spatial perception. With normal vision restored, I opened my eyes, relying solely on my natural sight to take in my surroundings. Huh? The world suddenly felt less colorful as the grid deactivated.

Getting back on track, I closed my eyes, and activated the new spatial perception. With the grid lines intersecting and forming a detailed map of my surroundings, I expanded the skill outward to a radius of one foot.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again, overlaying my natural vision with this initial grid. The process was slow, my brain protesting against the strain, but I persisted.

With each exhale, I tried to relax my muscles, releasing the tension that had built up from the sensory overload. The grid was still there, but it felt less intrusive now, like a semi-transparent layer on top of my natural vision. I could see the details more clearly, the lines blending with the environment rather than clashing against it.

Then I gradually increased the range, sweat forming on my brow from the influx of information, as I focused intently on expanding my perception.

Spatial Perception Lvl 10 -> Lvl 11

— And I could almost see three feet without much strain. Another level, and I was sure it would become effortless.

With my senses almost aligned, I wiped the sweat from my brow and pulled one arm across my chest, using the opposite hand to deepen the stretch, then switched sides, loosening the tightness in my shoulders.

I swung my sword in smooth, controlled arcs, each motion a precise strike at an imaginary target. The blade sliced through the air with a satisfying swish, a sound I found deeply reassuring.

I also felt my mana starting to deplete a little faster than before, a subtle warning in the back of my mind.

[ Mana: 126 / 130 ]

This was another one of my glaring mistakes. The sheltered environment of the academy hadn’t prepared me for when things went sideways. Absorbing ambient mana was next on my priority list after my spatial perception had sucked it dry. For now, I pushed the thought at the back of my mind.

My muscles remembered the movements, the practice ingrained in my body through countless repetitions. The clash of perspectives still lingered a little, but with each swing, I felt more in control. The process of synchronizing my natural vision and spatial perception would take time, but I was willing to put in the effort.

Thankfully, the grid was also showing my arm movements. It was another complexity, but I wanted to see if adding the grid might increase my precision with the sword. After working out the kinks in my muscles, I turned toward my new practice partner, Sir Twistopher.

With an initial swing, my sword connected with the trunk, and a faint rotten scent wafted up, mingling with the musky aroma of the forest. The scent tickled my nose, making me scrunch it slightly in reaction. It’s funny how I had almost forgotten the unique scent of the Mistshade Willow Forest. That's definitely a low blow, Sir Twistopher.

Once I got used to the smell, I scanned the strike. The detailed mesh overlay blended more seamlessly with my natural sight, showing the precise cut. That was my initial goal for the grid. The detailed feedback allowed me to sense where the next strike would be most impactful.

I swung the sword again in a smooth arc, feeling the swish of air and the satisfying impact as it met the target.

Precision was the key to sword mastery, ensuring not a single ounce of force was wasted. Hopefully, my grid would help achieve that. But checking again, I observed that my sword was a little angled.

An uneven strike. A subpar result, but with this level of scrutiny, I was sure to level up Sword Mastery quite fast. Instead of random strikes, I began practicing the eight cuts Professor Vanya had taught me. Though they weren't particularly useful against beasts, they were invaluable for attacking humanoid monster.

And with me finding some similar anatomical parts, the eight cuts should also be effective against monsters.

A few quick slashes and the tree was marked with eight basic directions: head, right shoulder, right side, right leg, chest, left leg, left side, and left shoulder.

Each swing targeted these points, honing my control over the swing angle.

The rhythmic sound of my blade cutting through Sir Twistopher filled the forest. I adjusted the angle slightly with each swing, feeling the subtle difference in resistance.

The spatial perception updated with each cut, allowing me to target these points more precisely on the grid.

The glass sword wouldn’t break if the angle was correct, a lesson drilled into me by the constant shattering. My steel sword shouldn’t chip if the angle was correct. While there was a margin of error due to the sturdy nature of a steel sword, eliminating large defects was within expectation. And with my upgraded spatial perception, I was sure to work out on the small details.