《Unhinged Fury - (LitRPG, Reincarnation)》 Chapter 1 - Rebirth

Prologue

Tom didn¡¯t let his offense up. A stone spike punched through one of the creature¡¯s back legs. It twisted violently, and another spike opened up a slash along its stomach instead of impaling the thing. More of his skills screamed alarm at him. He phased out of existence. A claw strike that would have decapitated him went through his converted ethereal neck instead. When he reverted a moment later, his throat felt like it had been bathed in acid. There were internal injuries, but he didn¡¯t have time to deal with them directly. He blasted undirected healing mana through himself, and some of the damage was reduced. That injury meant the monster¡¯s claw strikes had sufficient magic invested into them that they could hurt him even if he used his phase ability, Tom realised. That was a problem. Another blow at his head triggered a second lifesaving phase-out reaction. Light exploded in his brain. Memories were ripped away. What was he doing? Fighting? But why? Where was Pink Wing? Why did he feel so sick? On instinct, he reached for his mana pool to heal himself. His mana wasn¡¯t there. Confusion filled his thoughts. Somehow, there wasn¡¯t any available. What was happening? A beast was on top of him, a snarling cat. He was losing to an animal, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The monster was too strong and fast. He felt half his arm get torn off. His grip on his spear slipped. It lunged at his face. He saw teeth, lots of them. Clarity flooded through him. All of his memories returned, but something was off. He couldn¡¯t feel his body; he was in a white emptiness. Words appeared in front of him. You have died. Tom stared blankly at the message. The shock of last time wasn¡¯t there. This had happened before. He understood more about the process, but the emotional toll was more significant. Last time, death had meant a rebirth and a chance to let his training make a difference. This time, it was the ashes of failure. But the signs were clear. There was no pain, no muscles to move, and when he reached for his skills, there was nothing. He was dead once more. But¡­ He stared at the incomprehensible words. Memories of the chaotic last few moments rose unbidden. The wador had been so fast, and Black Dodge had done nothing¡­ And this¡­ You have died. The words had not changed and he could sense the truth of their existence. An absolute fact backed by the very GODs. But he couldn¡¯t die. There was so much he still had to do, and how could he have been killed when everything had been going so well? The two main threats had been eliminated. Humans had won. In the context of the battle, his death to the wador at the last moment made no sense. The contract between them should have neutralised their threat. But¡­ It was not a prank. The systems, or GODs, or whatever maintained this moment, had cheated. They had changed his mindset to make it impossible to deny the reality. There was no comfort of self-delusion here. The words were real, and they were Truth with the capital T. Undeniable, undisputable. He had died. The wador that he was supposed to defeat easily had destroyed him instead. The entire fight and the preceding moments flashed through this brain, as did that last thing it had said to him. ¡®Humans are not the only ones capable of planning.¡¯ They had seen what Black Dodge could do, and probably noticed how much he relied on that time dilation. Then they had adapted and found a way to negate his strengths, leaving him helpless. If he had a body, his cheeks would have reddened. There had been a dream when he was designing the shield golem. A perfect defensive shield that had made a random fighter a hero¡­ right up until it failed. It had been breached by a specific frequency of energy and rendered useless. He had thought it had been supporting the shield idea, but it hadn¡¯t. It had been warning him about his overreliance on a single skill. Preparation, his signature talent, had been what had defeated him. And that True Dream had warned him. And he hadn¡¯t realised it¡­ And now he was dead. The conscious acceptance of his state was a signal, and the words in front of him changed. Your species patron goddess has deemed for you to have lived an exceptional life and as a reward you may direct the terms of your reincarnation. Would you like to be reincarnated into a sapient species? ¡°Yes.¡± Do you wish it to be a terror, neutral or good species? That was an easy answer. ¡°Neutral.¡± He said. Terror was something he would never consider and the good species, in his opinion, had something wrong with them. They had a flaw in their psyche that put other species or activities first, like the chosen and inventor, respectively. He did not want his new life¡¯s development to be forced down such a path. Do you wish your potential within the species to be low, middle or high? ¡°High,¡± he answered without hesitation and wondered who the hell would go for anything else. Someone who wanted an ordinary life, Tom thought after a moment¡¯s consideration, and given his last forty years of struggle, he could see the appeal. Surviving and growing had been exhausting, but that challenge was to be embraced, not avoided. Do you wish opportunities to achieve power to be infrequent, normal or frequent? Note that opportunity goes hand in hand with suffering. ¡°Frequent.¡± More opportunities to grow were something he couldn¡¯t turn down. Do you wish your circumstances to be impoverished, standard, or privileged? He considered that question for a little longer than the previous ones. Ultimately, his desire was to be strong, and starting from an impoverished background could prevent that, courtesy of malnutrition and the poverty spiral. Privileged was probably just as bad in its own way. Luxury was wonderful, but it did not lend itself to gaining strength. It was why he had avoided most of his system room functions. ¡°Standard.¡± He said, hardly able to believe that he was voluntarily giving up a chance to be reborn as a rich noble or its equivalent. Then he remembered his death and the cause of it. He had died because of his failure to think things through, and he was one of the champions of humanity. It was a costly mistake, and that sort of culpability should go hand in hand with consequences. ¡°Impoverished,¡± he corrected. The earlier questions already provided him with a path to power. Starting poor would be a penance for his mistake in this life. Do you wish to reincarnate exclusively as a human? This one stumped him. ¡°Um, maybe I¡­?¡± The words wouldn¡¯t come to him. While he wanted to be human, he also didn¡¯t want the baggage they were probably going to face. Do you wish to be reincarnated in a biped form? It was better. Close to human but not¡­ ¡°Probably¡­ I¡¯m not sure?¡± He trailed off uncertain about what to say. Is your preference for a broken, declining, stable or ascending civilisation? ¡°Not broken and not declining unless the problems can be fixed.¡± That answer was easy. He couldn¡¯t imagine anything worse than being reincarnated and then watching his new species decline, being unable to change the trajectory. Do you wish to remember everything, fragments, nothing, or just have your personality carry through without specific memories? That question threw him more than anything that had been asked. The nothing option sounded like death, but everything or fragments didn¡¯t sound much better. If he had the memories of this life rattling in his head, what then? What would happen if he discovered the ruins of humanity or an isolated, struggling tribe that was doomed to extinction? What happened if those pieces let him realise that their suffering was his fault? That his death due to stupidity and arrogance had resulted in billions of his species being thrown into misery? It would break him again, and he didn¡¯t want that to happen. ¡°Just my personality,¡± he whispered. ¡°Unless I can reincarnate as a human in the competition with full memories to help save my species. Then do that. I would love the chance to make amends for my mistake.¡± There was a pause, as though his request was being considered. Then new words appeared. Your Goddess wishes you a fulfilling and wonderful life. Everything vanished.
Chapter 1 - Rebirth Tom felt dissociated from everything. Something profound was happening, but his thoughts were not ordered enough to comprehend it. It was like fireworks were exploding inside his consciousness; fireworks that were accompanied by a touching serenade of haunting orchestral music that existed right at the edge of his hearing. The combined effect was spectacular, beautiful, and fragile all at the same time. Not to mention overwhelming. He retreated from the mental assault and sunk into his physical senses. The bright sun blinded him briefly, its rays piercing through the gaps between the swirling magic, intensifying the disorientating effect. He shifted to the side, but his feet didn¡¯t respond like they were supposed to. Something was interfering with his balance. There was a buzzing noise that made him dizzy. His right foot dragged instead of lifting. It got tangled with his other ankle. The world spun helplessly. Then he crashed down onto earth that was spongy enough to cushion¡­. It felt like it had been freshly fluffed - it gave way as his shoulder smacked into it, almost completely absorbing the force of the fall, so it hardly hurt. He half-bounced and then face planted into the soil. A partially open mouth allowed some of the soft dirt to squeeze in, and it tasted of dust and old hay. Instinctively, he spat it out. Saliva and dirt dribbled down his chin. His mind was struggling under the assault of his senses. The fireworks hadn¡¯t stopped, the music probably didn¡¯t actually exist, but it played on anyway, making the situation seem even more unreal than it was already. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. An additional fantastical effect had been added to everything else: through the eye that was not pressed into the ground, he could now see magic swirling in the air above him. It was an entreating, playful display like wisps would use on their victims. His instinctive self had an overwhelming desire to reach out and touch them, but his logical mind recoiled from the concept. It didn¡¯t want anything to do with magic that tried to entice him in that fashion. Not that he could do anything. All the will and desire in the universe could do nothing to influence a body that was not responding. Above him the concentrated magic bled into the visible spectrum: pinks, purples the occasional flash of vibrant orange. They danced, enthralling. Then a tendril reached down toward him. There was something sinister about the motion. Whatever the magic represented, it was no longer innocent and playful. Instead, it was the opposite, and was coming for him. Adrenaline burned inside him. Fight and flight instincts clamoured for attention, and Tom didn¡¯t care which one he chose. The only thing that was important was that he acted immediately. Internally, he begged for his muscles to respond. Commands rushed from his brain, but not a single muscle twitched. His desperate pleas failing to change the factuality of a nonresponsive body. Will, by itself could not overcome the reality of the situation. While he was lying prone, powerless to twitch a finger to protect himself, the first of the dancing tendrils reached him, touched him, stroked him. There was a piercing pain. His entire body tensed in response, but the order to leap up and flee vanished between him and its destination like all the others. The touch was like that of claws: nasty, sharp, and coated with poison digging into him. His every nerve ending fired in a brief flare of agony before a soothing, healing energy inexplicably chased the pain away. Tom¡¯s brain struggled to comprehend what was happening. Then another tendril struck his foot. The same sensations. Started and gone in half a second. Then they were coming faster and faster. His knee, upper arm, ear were all violated within moments of each other. Invasive, unnatural energy that made him sick to the core of his soul. They were striking him continuously. It was a patter of attacks that were each distinct, but part of a greater whole. His brain cracked. It was like a dam being struck by a volley of missiles: a massive explosion that left a catastrophic breach in its wake. Initially, only a trickle of water would push its way through, then billions of tonnes of contained mass would be released and the thunderous liquid would sweep through the gap, pushing all before it. A flood of thoughts, existence and memories surged through the abruptly opened passage. Two sets of himself simultaneously coexisted in his soul, and, even though they were both him, they battled for supremacy. They were both him. Tom understood that as an absolute fact. An incontestable truth. Him now and him from the past. The same person, each part of a greater whole. However, in a way, this truth didn¡¯t matter. The sets of experiences clashed. Which one won was inconsequential, but there was a contest occurring, a battle for dominance. Within the maelstrom of the mixing thoughts, the two parts of him struggled to define themselves. There was the part that had always been in this body. Childish and not fully formed, it only had a little over four years of memories to draw from. Then there was the main weight of his conscious, the tsunami that had flooded through the abruptly opened gate. These were memories of a lifetime¡­ well, technically two lifetimes¡­ that had been unexpectedly freed. The magic that had been battering his body had broken that barrier and released the memories of this true self. His head throbbed as a result of the clash, and his scattered thoughts wondered if this was a mistake, whether whatever ritual was attacking his body had broken something that it shouldn¡¯t have. Tom didn¡¯t care whether this was a mistake or the intentional actions of a GOD. It was a chance to complete his promise and save humanity. There was a core of determination within him that was more than willing to claim the opportunity. Despite the chaos of the moment, both that generated internally and externally from him, clarity restored itself extraordinarily quickly. No matter the provenance, the memories of a young child could not compare to that of an adult, especially when they were and had always been the same person. Coherent thoughts formed. Tom was whole once more, and he remembered why. He remembered why he was here and why everything mattered. He had been reincarnated by DEUS, humanity¡¯s GODDESS. Despite his mistakes, he had been gifted a new chance to make a difference, and he was going to seize it. The desire, the certainty burned within him. Last time, he had failed; this time, he would do better. His mind still felt like it had been shattered and then inexpertly put back together. Things were missing, Tom could tell that much. The holes were not forgotten dusty memories, either; these had an aura of importance, and must have been actively removed. It was a mystery, him, the other GODs or DEUS¡­ his own choice or one of them had to be the explanation. However, the riddle would have to wait until later to be solved. There were more important issues to work through now. He systematically grabbed the key memories, the shiny bright ones that demanded attention. Anger, love, sadness, significant events, conversations, and needs. This was his second chance to help save humanity. It should have seemed a daunting task, but it didn¡¯t. For some reason he was confident in his abilities. Too much so. But if he was being completely honest, it was not all misplaced arrogance. History had repeatedly proven that he was good at surviving. Before he died he had held the number one rank amongst the million other champions who had come with him. Given fate, given that ability to actively direct luck as his crutch, and his knowledge of the system¡­ some of that confidence was justified. But then he pondered at the certainty of it. The only thing that made sense was that it had stemmed from his missing memories. Tom decided that after a moment¡¯s thought. Something about them meant that he was worth more than a typical reincarnation. Oh and then he remembered the moments after his actual death. The one thing he had dreaded more than anything else was to be reincarnated to discover that humans had lost. His agreement to come back with memories had been dependent on him being a situation where he could save humanity. That he would make a difference. Unlike last time. That thought was a trigger. Unbidden, the memory of those last desperate moments of his previous life over took his consciousness. He was back in that battle. The snarling face of an animal that was actually a thinking creature, an opponent that he had foolishly discounted, snapping at his head. Its claws ripping into his stomach as he strove to hold off the sharp teeth. His strength failing, his weapon slipping. The enemy¡¯s mouth biting down, and¡­ Tom swam out of that recollection. All that was left was the bitter taste of those last moments. The memory of that moment forever ingrained upon him. The moment of ultimate failure. To keep his sanity, he focused. How he had died was less important now than the experiences he had gained, the lessons he had learned, and the techniques from the first two lives that he could use to grow his strength during this new opportunity. That was what mattered, not his past failure. In moments, his reestablished mind summarised the events. The tutorial, Existentia, the journey to beat the trolls. While the tutorial memories were unbroken, those from Existentia proper were full of holes, like something had been removed from it. He was pretty sure he remembered the key bits. The people. His friends¡­ The quest they had been on. The quest he had put them on. Despite his initial importance in the group initiation, once they had gotten going his role had become purely combat focus. But that was a peripheral consideration. What had happened to his plan? His companions had been alive when he had died, he was certain of that¡­ If so, would they have taken it on? Yes. They would have. He was absolutely sure of it. Clare, Rahmat, Selena, Everlyn¡­ especially Everlyn! She would not have given up. They would have seen it through. Hope, excitement, and concern simultaneously bloomed in him. Would they have been strong enough? Could they have managed it without him? Part of Tom wondered at that thought, why would he consider himself being missing to be so critical. Yes, he had been the best tank, but¡­ that wasn¡¯t enough to matter at the level they had reached. It had to be something else. The gaps in his memory were the only explanation, but the question was. what had been in them? Mentally, he screamed. This was not what he had expected. His mind was almost exploding as it tried to make sense of what was happening. There were so many questions. The survivors of the trial would have hunted the trolls, of that he was certain. Had they been successful? How many years had passed? Was there any way for him to find out? And were any of them still alive? The questions crowded around, their combined urgency almost overwhelming him. Those questions, and the critical ones. How would he make the aliens pay for killing him? What method would allow him to have the greatest impact? By exploiting what he knew. That was the only answer. He was only four years old, and he suspected the formal system wouldn¡¯t kick in until he turned fifteen. That was a lot of growing and ability accumulation that could be achieved before earned experience made organic growth harder. Then he remembered the gap he had opened to the others in his past life. Early development could compound to create something ridiculous, and he had the perfect opportunity to do so. Abruptly, the ever-vigilant part of his brain screamed out a warning. The frequency of the sharp spikes of pain had dropped. There was barely more than one occurring per second. They were reducing, which meant a transition of the ritual from one stage to another was in progress and traditionally that was when an exploitable opening might occur. Tom checked the surrounding atmosphere and then smiled internally. The suppression that was limiting his body movements was reducing. A small flood of hope went through him. Without being obvious, he tested his body. He attempted to wriggle his toes. They responded ¨C admittedly, only slightly. That meant that whatever force had been robbing him of agency was definitely weakening. Was it enough? More and more of his muscles came back under his control. If he could move, he could protect himself. The highest priority was to gather information on his situation. He shifted, lifted his head out of the dirt, and glanced around. Tom¡¯s eyes widened. What the hell? He thought to himself. He was not alone. Instead, he was in a ritual field with over twenty bodies prone on the surrounding ground. The sun beat down from above almost directly overhead and of the bodies that he could see, none were older than five, and some were only three. What sort of sick person? He mused before stopping the spiral before it started. The ritual, so far while painful, had not been harmful. It was possible there was a reasonable explanation. But¡­ Twenty children? And Tom knew for a fact that his younger self had gone to sleep and woken up in this spot. There had been no warning, and it was suspicious as hell. No, he had to assume the worst. A second passed, and he managed to wriggle his fingers as the command of his muscles continued to improve. With a struggle, he lifted his head further, looking beyond the sprawled kids to observe the edge of the ritual and hopefully catch a glimpse of those responsible. It was pointless. The ritual¡¯s edge was only twenty metres from him, but the magic was swirling too densely for him to see through it and beyond it to their wider surroundings. All he could tell was that he was trapped in a ritual in a circle of soft dirt. He wanted to ask what was happening, but his throat locked up to the point of almost causing him to cough. He tried to pierce the clouds of magic with his unenhanced vision and his persistence paid off. Two silhouettes were visible. They could have been human or they could have been something else. But, based off their proportions, they were his species. From what he knew of the alien species in Existentia, very few had dimensions that mirrored humans. Most were larger or had extra limbs. Or no limbs at all. Or abnormally shaped torsos. The situation was getting weirder and weirder. What was happening? He wondered. It didn¡¯t feel like he was being sacrificed, but¡­ Tom¡¯s memories contained details of such activities, including other humans who did awful things in the belief that what they did was for the greater good. His fist closed, seizing a small handful of dirt. He wasn¡¯t sure what he could do with it¡­ But something was better than nothing. Maybe he would be able to throw it in someone¡¯s eyes. His focus turned to alternative offensive options, and he cursed his scattered mind for not doing it sooner. It probably would not work, but that was not an excuse for not checking. His mind reached out and attempted to trigger Earth Manipulation. Nothing happened. The spell was missing from his mind. His internal concern mounted. What about Spark? This was an ability he knew back to front. One that had been with him the longest. He understood everything about it. He could feel the mana in him but the Spark spell framework itself was absent. Desperately, his brain flicked through all the abilities he had, but with Spark missing he realised it was futile. None of them would be present. They were not blocked by the ritual - they simply weren¡¯t there. They had not come through with him. Tom wasn¡¯t surprised by that, but it would have been nice to have something to protect himself with. His mind raced as he tried to work out what options were available. Physically, he was weak. Ability-wise, he seemed to have nothing to offer. Trickery? Nope, that, too, felt hopeless. Even the optimist in him acknowledged he was screwed. Whatever was doing this was probably so far beyond him that it was a gap that he could never cross. It was unfair. This was his second chance. It was too early to lose it. The situation could be innocent¡­ But twenty kids? Why? Why that many if it was not for some terrible sacrificial ritual for power. The worst bit was, that while he would never have been able to consider doing something like this himself, if it helped them place better in the competition, even he had to admit it would be worth it. Electricity crackled through the mist. It struck him and his muscles spasmed and he crashed onto the ground. Tears of frustration broke out unbidden. He was paralyzed. That meant he could not even use the dirt in his fist. He was helpless as a baby! And he couldn¡¯t even scream his irritation. Nothing apart from his regular breathing was working. ¡°Okay and done. Confirm that it was successful, please.¡± A gruff voice abruptly ordered. ¡°Yep, the monitor stone is reporting everything worked perfectly.¡± A female voice answered. ¡°And everyone survived.¡± ¡°Look at them,¡± the original voice started up, sounding aggrieved. ¡°Weak, pathetic. What a disgusting waste of resources.¡± ¡°Spending on the future is never a poor investment.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t give me that shit, Delilah. You don¡¯t have a single bit of mothering instinct in you, and this¡­¡± the man paused and Tom could imagine him spitting. ¡°This ritual is parents raiding the communal pot to look after their spawn. I have grandkids, you know. Not here, of course, I mean on Earth. I entered this hellhole to save them, and for no other reasons. We need to make sure that when they get to Existentia they¡¯re protected. And we¡¯re wasting resources on a certain failure of a bet.¡± ¡°Thunder fists begs to differ¡­¡± ¡°Screw that psycho.¡± The disgruntled man interrupted his companion. ¡°The fact he rose in thirty years is an exception, not a rule.¡± ¡°He brought his whole team with him. They were all powerhouses.¡± ¡°He was an exception.¡± ¡°Not the only one,¡± the female voice said quietly. ¡°Most of the famous reincarnators did the same.¡± ¡°But they took over forty years. it¡¯s too close to the end of the competition now. Our resources should only go toward projects that generate guaranteed ranking points. Whatever just happened to the dragons and insects on the ladder changes everything. Previously, our only chance of catching them was gambling. Now we can do it with grit and incremental gains. Spending on this ritual is a waste. There¡¯s no return on investment, and I can already see this costing us third place.¡± Tom¡¯s mind raced as he processed the conversation. It was two people chatting amongst themselves with no regard for their charges, but they had let a lot slip in their friendly banter. For someone like him, someone who was missing critical context about the world that he found himself in, it was a blessing. They had given him information that he would have to use to shape his approach. There were only thirty years of the competition to go, which meant he had lost sixty years of contribution time. It was a bitter piece of knowledge to learn that he would have so little time. But on the positive side, somehow humans were still in touch with the top of the ladder. They could still reach the critical third spot or possibly higher. Having fought the dragons, he couldn¡¯t personally see how that was possible, but apparently it was. If they could get third or higher, then the eight billion people from earth when they arrived would have a chance of prosperity instead of being scattered and easy picking for the terror races out there. There was still a future to be won. Tom couldn¡¯t put into words how relieved that made him feel. They were still in the running, and he had thirty years to grow his strength to the point of being a difference-maker. He had no illusions about how hard that was going to be, but if Thunder Fists had done it, then he would too. His lack of foresight had cost him once. Never again. He would take all his enemies seriously, and every waking moment would be focused on the singular aim to grow his power. By the time the competition came to a close, not even the dragon in his memories or a stronger version of her would be able to stand up to him. His name would ring louder than this Thunder Fist¡¯s one ever did. Chapter 2.1 - Early Complications Tom listened intently, hoping they would continue gossiping. Every little morsel of information was welcome; he was as a starving man, and even the smallest piece felt like a godsend to him. He knew he needed to learn more. Thankfully, Delilah continued: ¡°If you really find the expense of the ritual distasteful, I have good news for you. You¡¯ll be pleased to know that this is the final generation.¡± ¡°They said that two years ago, too.¡± The man complained immediately. ¡°The council even voted on it. It was locked in. We were no longer going to support the drain. In the end, the vote was almost unanimous, because all the locals who actually pay taxes and vote for the council members hated it. Most of these kids are from adventurers, and you guys don¡¯t pay for a thing. Do you know the rituals were adding, like, one whole percent to our tax rate? It was a crazy expense.¡± ¡°And an equally crazy benefit for those lucky enough to receive it.¡± She shot back. ¡°That us taxpayers shouldn¡¯t have to cough up. Let the brats¡¯ parents pay it. That is, if they think it¡¯s actually worthwhile.¡± The woman snorted. ¡°The higher powers had a different idea. It was the priests who overruled your bean counters. Are you really going to argue against DEUS?¡± ¡°The priests are probably corrupt.¡± The woman responded to that claim with a low whistle. ¡°Man, you¡¯re losing it. This isn¡¯t earth. DEUS is real, every one of us knows it¡­ Seriously? Corrupt priests? How do you even imagine that working? I can¡¯t imagine what level of blasphemy that would even count as, them ascribing words falsely to her.¡± The way she referenced the word blasphemy was enough to send chills down anyone¡¯s spine. Tom, with his own experience, agreed with her. You did not mess with the GODs. ¡°There¡¯s no way the priests are taking her name in vain.¡± There was an awkward pause. ¡°She can¡­ um¡­ well, the designs of the GODs are beyond mortal minds like us.¡± ¡°Quite. Now, are you going to read that?¡± She sounded very happy to change the subject. Tom would have felt the same. Discussing what the GODs did when they were disrespected was never enjoyable. ¡°We only have a limited amount of time.¡± ¡°Is it really necessary?¡± Delilah laughed at that: ¡°It¡¯s not a command of a priest, so I guess you technically have some leeway, but are you really brave enough to go against Eden of the Green?¡± There was another embarrassed silence. ¡°Is she even real?¡± ¡°Is magic real? What kind of silly question is that? Yes, you thick idiot, she¡¯s real. Very much so. With some of the ignorant things you say, one would think that you¡¯ve spent the last fifty years locked away in your workshop without talking to a single person.¡± The man chuckled, not at all offended by her acerbic tone: Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°That¡¯s pretty much what I¡¯ve done. I¡¯ve put my head down and done my job. I¡¯ll have you know my ranking is below a thousand. That¡¯s better than most of you adventurers.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Delilah said, sounding apologetic. ¡°It wasn¡¯t intended as a dig. But yeah, she¡¯s real. I¡¯ve met her. She¡¯s so fucking competent when out in the field it gives me goosebumps. I¡¯m good, but she¡¯s on a different level. When she¡¯s in a camp she¡¯s scary, obsessed with the reincarnated ones. I¡¯m not sure she talks about anything other than them and plans to farm ranking points. She¡¯s got a two tracked mind.¡± ¡°Yeah, but what can she do to me?¡± ¡°Well, the last person to skimp on reading her message got thrown into a darkhole trial.¡± ¡°That¡¯s cold. But was that really just for not reading the stupid message? Or did they have other infractions? Was this just the straw that broke the camel¡¯s back?¡± ¡°It was just about the message. The guy had apparently been a saint apart from that one mistake, and the outcome was worse than you think. He used to be a crafter, and was forced to enter a darkhole trial. I mean, what the hell? I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in there, but far stronger people than him had entered and never emerged. He didn¡¯t have a chance. She basically executed him.¡± ¡°Totally unhinged.¡± The man agreed. ¡°She¡¯s intense, but I¡¯ve met crazier. The punishment was because a reincarnated kid got killed due to his mistake.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I don¡¯t need to bother with this.¡± There was the sound of rustling paper. ¡°Honestly, what¡¯s the chance of there being one in this batch?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the chance of a reincarnated one here?¡± she said thoughtfully. ¡°This late in the competition, I would have said close to zero, but that was before the priests insisted the ritual goes on. DEUS isn¡¯t doing this for nothing. So yeah, I wouldn¡¯t bet against it.¡± ¡°We¡¯re warded. No one would know if I didn¡¯t read it.¡± ¡°Seriously! Are your brains rotted? Are you really considering not reading it? We¡¯re talking about priests and Eden of the fucking Green. You¡¯d have to be¡­¡± There was a moment of stunned silence. ¡°All I can say if you don¡¯t, then I¡¯m going to. I don¡¯t want to be sent to the darkhole because I¡¯m associated with you.¡± The gruff man cleared his throat and laughed nervously. ¡°I¡¯m joking, of course. I¡¯m not about to neglect my duty. I¡¯m not suicidal.¡± There was the rustle of paper. ¡°Listen up, kids. I know this is a shock, and the ritual is the opposite of pleasant, but it¡¯s done. We¡¯ve wasted more credits than is sensible, but your human bloodline has advanced a notch. Congratulations, you¡¯ve received a massive bonus and a head start most of the human race will never get.¡± ¡°You should probably stay away from editorialising why you do this.¡± ¡°Eden¡¯s not going to care.¡± Tom heard Delilah chuckle: ¡°You haven¡¯t met her.¡± ¡°Now¡­¡± there was the sound of paper being repositioned; then the way the gruff man was speaking changed. Now it was like he was reading off a sheet instead of repeating stuff from memory. ¡°The ritual has stunned you for ten minutes, so this message can be delivered in full without you betraying any reactions. If you are reincarnated, your life is in imminent danger.¡± Shock went through Tom. The early conversation had primed him for this, so it wasn¡¯t a total surprise, but still - his life being in peril? This was not what he had expected. ¡°Eyes away from them¡­¡± Delilah hissed. ¡°Are you seriously policing me?¡± ¡°No, I volunteered to stop you from doing something stupid because I like our arrangement. But you need to stick to protocol. You. Don¡¯t. Know. Shit. There could be someone out there watching you.¡± The gruff man obviously took the warning because he was quick to continue his reading: ¡°Reincarnated human children have been hunted by hired assassins since the first years of the competition. Significant expense has been taken to protect you, but rank discrepancy means our obfuscation attempts are not perfect. You are responsible for your own survival and cannot rely on our protections. To facilitate this, it is recommended that you hide your special nature until you have sufficient power to defend yourself from rank sixty assassins.¡± The man paused for a moment. ¡°As if any of these kids are going to ever be strong enough to face a threat like that. What a dumb piece of advice to give. It should read you¡¯ll need to stay hidden until the end of the competition, because that¡¯s the best they¡¯ll manage.¡± ¡°Stop opinioning and bloody read it. You need to be finished before the stun wears off.¡± Tom managed to not outwardly react to the statement. But his pulse quickened. Were things truly that dangerous? If they thought they had to make an announcement, then it probably was. Chapter 2.2 - Early Complications He focused on not reacting, on preventing his heart rate from spiking while his mind raced. Did this threat apply to him? Obviously, it did, but it also didn¡¯t. Every second thought spiralled back to the options he had been given after he had died. They were more nuanced at their heart, but for Tom, when choosing between them only two options had been considered. Oblivion or at least a wipe of his memories so his future life wouldn¡¯t be plagued with regrets of failures. Or reincarnation under the proviso, that he would be given a genuine chance of making a difference in the competition. If his presence could allow humans to place high enough in the competition to prevent the spiral of humanity into extinction, then he would willingly try again. That was his requirements, and he knew DEUS, and the GODs rarely made mistakes. Him being alive, within the bounds of the ninety-year competition, meant he would receive that chance. That fact precluded him dying to assassins before he had the personal power to stop them. Such an outcome was not something that DEUS would allow. While the threat almost certainly existed, and he would follow advice to protect himself, Tom was certain that he personally wasn¡¯t at risk, providing he did nothing stupid. This was a case of being alert but not alarmed. But he was not na?ve, Existentia was not a soft place, people died in it. He had died in the first year here, half of his friends too. It was a brutal, savage existence, and the competition made it even more so. If the assassins came, then there would be collateral damage and, while he might be protected by the terms of his reincarnation, those around him wouldn¡¯t be. It was vital he kept his head down and not be responsible for the deaths of innocents because of his carelessness. ¡°Whatever,¡± the male voice groused. ¡°The ritual you have just experienced has served two purposes. The first is that it upgrades your human bloodline. I¡¯m sure you can all appreciate the advantage that will give you.¡± Those words felt weird to Tom. From what he could remember, the human bloodline had been weak and barely worth the effort. The benefits were marginal at best, but that was not what the carefully crafted message must have been suggesting. The man kept going, oblivious to the confusion in Tom¡¯s head: ¡°Second, the ritual unlocks dormant memories early for everyone over three and three quarters. By forcing the unlock, we can deliver this message before the dominant personality reestablishes itself randomly between the ages of five and six. When that happened at the vagaries of chance, most reincarnated ones had been identified by our enemies before they even knew they were in danger. I have to repeat this: you are responsible for your own survival, no one else is. Others who have reincarnated recommend that you let your most recent childhood memories guide your actions for the foreseeable future and only act out of character when alone in the various heavily warded locations throughout the city.¡± ¡°I¡¯m impressed, Pete. Word for word. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d think you believed that Eden of the Green was watching.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. With all the protections in place, I doubt it¡¯s possible, but I¡¯m not taking any risks when it comes to the top fifty freaks.¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Delilah laughed again. She clearly enjoyed teasing him and ruffling his calm: ¡°Are we done here?¡± ¡°Almost,¡± he sounded annoyed. ¡°They added a passage.¡± He switched to his reading voice. ¡°Now that your racial bloodline has been upgraded continue to focus on developing your fate usage. Experimentation is the key to greater power.¡± There was a sigh. ¡°And we¡¯re done. Kids, you don¡¯t know me, and you¡¯ll probably never see me again. I don¡¯t volunteer at the orphanage, and that¡¯s by design. For the next week, you¡¯re in partial lockdown. In a minute or two, you¡¯ll regain control of your body. As per protocol, all adults have been cleared from this area of the city. There¡¯s a clear path to the orphanage, and there¡¯s party food there to celebrate your new status. Please head straight there. If you delay too long, automatons may activate to herd you.¡± ¡°You are actually scared of her.¡± ¡°Shut up. Let¡¯s pack everything and go.¡± ¡°Hey, Pete, it feels strange to leave them here like this.¡± ¡°What are you suggesting, Delilah? It¡¯s protocol I¡¯ve done this before. They¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re kids.¡± ¡°Are you really proposing that I go against Eden the fucking Green?¡± He parroted her words back to her. Then his voice softened. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. This is the ritual grounds. It¡¯s probably the most defended place in the city. The rules, the protocols that you were so keen for me to follow, state that no one is allowed to observe them closely after the awakening.¡± He lowered his voice further. ¡°They¡¯ll be locked in the orphanage, and even parents face restrictions there. Those that visit too regularly get banned for an entire week. Adventurers who only swing by every few months are given a leave pass, but that¡¯s for only half an hour.¡± ¡°And the regular volunteers?¡± Delilah sounded thoughtful. ¡°Are they kept on to provide stability?¡± ¡°Nope. They get a forced week off.¡± ¡°The poor kids. This entire thing must be so traumatic for them.¡± ¡°The theory is that a significant amount of the assassins¡¯ information gathering is done by getting into our brains. If any human identifies someone as reincarnated, then the aliens can, too. If we¡¯re all blind, that protects them. Kind of creepy if you think about it. Having aliens scry through my eyes.¡± ¡°Oh, totally.¡± There were the sounds of a sloppy kiss. ¡°Gross,¡± Delilah complained half-heartedly. ¡°You can¡¯t do that after what you just said. It¡¯s like I¡¯m kissing an alien.¡± The man laughed. ¡°Coming from you of all people that¡¯s funny. I bet to you the idea is a turn-on.¡± There was the noise of more deliberately loud kissing. They were, Tom realised now, exhibitionists. Yes, they were only kissing, but yuck¡­ didn¡¯t they realise dozens of kids were listening? Then again, none of the normal children were going to have the maturity to understand what they were hearing, and the amorous exchange was not because of them. It was triggered by the idea of aliens watching them. Once more, all he could think was yuck! ¡°Yeah, I thought so. We¡¯re done here and you¡¯re obviously in the mood. Let¡¯s go have some fun.¡± There were sounds of footsteps retreating, and Tom¡¯s mind was in turmoil. There were assassins out there, hunting him and people like him. From what little information he had, it could be gauged that the humans had reacted by putting systems and controls in place to mitigate the risks. But these were not perfect, and that was why hiding his nature was his responsibility now. He had to find a way to utilise his younger self to allow himself to blend in seamlessly. But how? That was the question he needed to answer. The memories were there, but actually taking and using them as a basis for action was more complicated. When he thought about moving his arm, it was as Tom and not as Ta like his younger self had been named. There had to be a better way. The message that had been read out to him had almost confirmed it. But what? He concentrated his mind focused on the desire. Something had to be there. There was a ding. Chapter 2.3 - Early Complications It was a sound he instantly recognised, and smiled in anticipation. He wondered if his desire and situation had created a skill to help him. If so, it would be surprising to get a solution so easily. Without hesitation, he stepped sideways, and a moment later he was in the familiar surroundings of his system room. Soothing plain metal walls greeted him, which was just the way he liked it. Then, before he could make any order, the wall directly in front of him transformed. A poster had appeared there, its font large enough for him to read from where he stood. Congratulations, you have received a title. Title: Hunted Reincarnated: This title grants two benefits. The pseudo-system room, unlike the standard version, which is not available until ten (earth years) have passed, can be used at any point in a person¡¯s life. It is not the standard room and has a reduced set of functions, which include: The pseudo-system room does not provide access to the following functions that you might be used to: The primary downside to the pseudo-system room is the 8: 1 time dilation that is in effect when you are in it. Every minute in it is equivalent to eight minutes in real life. Tom read the details, and then read them again as he attempted to understand what this title offered. First of all, it shielded him completely from some forms of scrying, which was a relief. Tom knew for a fact there were skills out there that could effectively look through your own eyes and allowed the sharing of thoughts. If they were used at the right time, a reincarnated person would be revealed even if externally they had done nothing suspicious. The title protecting the reincarnated ones from such a vulnerability was a true boon. Without such protection, the assassins hunting them would have found all of them easily enough, no matter what defenses the older humans had installed. The knowledge curiously felt first-hand, even though, as far as he could tell, he had never had any strong scrying skills. That was another mystery presented by his missing memories that he would need to resolve at a later time. The next most important bit was the section in the provided functions which would allow his body to act independently while he was in the system room. It sounded like the pseudo-system room was undetectable, unlike the adult version. The rest of him would continue to interact and even converse naturally while his mind was elsewhere. A video screen had appeared on his right once he had read the text, and he took a moment to study what it was broadcasting. It was like watching a first-person video that had been put on fast forward. His body staggered to its feet, moved dizzyingly fast, linked arms with a girl with multi-coloured eyes and a tear-streaked face. The two of them hugged and then took a jerky trip across the circle. He and the girl weaved through the milling upset children until they reached the biggest kid in the area. Then they left as a trio. Once they hit the street, they seemed to move so fast, it was as though they were sprinting. Watching it was disorientating, so he pulled his eyes away from the TV. Seeing a young child, one barely beyond the toddler stage, moving almost too rapidly for his mind to register, drove home exactly how big of a contraction that 8:1 ratio actually represented. He thought furiously, trying to integrate the ability the title gave him with his long-term plans and what he had learned from Pete and Delilah. This had to be what the note had been referring to. A hidden title that all those reincarnated got. Hidden, so no one knew about it, which was why they talked around it in code. If he left this active, he would be perfectly safe. The title guaranteed that no one could see through him and notice his more mature brain behind that of the child. That was the good, but the bad was the time dilation. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He glanced at the screen. They crossed a room in a jumble of images. Tom saw couches, a water tap, a monster¡¯s head with fangs as long as his forearm mounted on the wall. Then they entered what was best described as a hall or gymnasium. Less than three seconds of relative time had passed for him. It really drove home how punitive that time dilation was. Staying in his system room was costly, but it was also safer. Was using this continuously the solution? Or did a middle ground provide a better balance? Or was he thinking about this in a wrong way entirely? Was this pseudo-room a Trojan horse left to trick people into using it to stunt their growth? His memories were fuzzy but he was certain to his core that an evil trick, a perfect apple hiding poison, was something that enemy GODs could subject them to. If he relied on the pseudo room exclusively for his safety and his body got in trouble, then what? He would have to intercede, and the change in behaviour, no matter how brief, would be a red flag to whoever was watching. Tom pondered the issue and then decided to forge ahead as normal to distract himself. ¡°Show status screen.¡± He ordered. He was expecting a list with his frankly terrible attributes to appear, but instead, nothing happened. The wall continued to display his new title and a noticeable absence of additional useful information. ¡°System, what¡¯s happening?¡± The system is not available in the pseudo-system room. Then the title flashed to draw his attention to it. Specifically, the items that were excluded. Tom¡¯s frown deepened. The majority of the functionality that he was used to, that would have made staying in the system room more tolerable by allowing him to research, was missing. The easy access to the auction house, the experience shop and even the list of skills, spells, traits and titles were not visible for him to use in planning. ¡°Did any of my titles carry through?¡± The system is not available in the pseudo-system room. ¡°Shit, shit,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°How do I find out if any titles have been carried through?¡± This time there was no answer, not even a flicker to draw his attention to the title like it had before. There was absolutely no reaction. He wondered if he was going to be blind to his progress until he turned ten or if there was another way to infer or determine the details of his status sheet in the meantime. ¡°How do I deal with this?¡± he asked, knowing there would be no response. All he could do was make a note and move on. Mentally he wished the item to join his to do list and the wall to the left flickered. To do.
  2. Plan a build.
  3. Confirm the current state of competition and humanity.
¡­.
  1. Track down a suitable method to allow viewing of status sheet.
He chuckled. This had to be some sort of record. He had only been reincarnated for a few minutes, and already had a list of stuff to do longer than his arm. With a thought, he dismissed the helpful list. He knew everything it said, but it was good practice to keep track of his tasks to ensure nothing slipped through. On the screen, he could see that his body had moved once more. It was now in a dark, dimly lit area. ¡°Man up,¡± he told himself. There were two options. The first was to play his new life passively. That involved spending the next few years in this pseudo system room only emerging occasionally to use his fate and practice skills. It had the advantage of ensuring that he would remain safe, but he couldn¡¯t see an approach like that making him strong enough before the competition ended. With a thought, he entered his body. Sacrificing almost ninety percent of his time by cowering in his system room was not acceptable. For the next week, no adult who knew him would be in contact. If he was going to make mistakes, blending into the new life now was the time to do it. When he opened his eyes, he found he was crouching in the equivalent of a blanket fort created from a mixture of old broken spears and the cured pelts of insignificant monsters. His memories told him that his two best friends were with him, as was a bowl filled with sweets and chocolates. ¡°Ta cried.¡± Bir poked him. Her emerald eye looked almost sinister in the light, especially next to the plain brown one. Tom remembered the tear-streaked cheeks she had when they had been coming back. ¡°It¡¯s okay. The ritual hurt, and it was a traumatic situation. There was no shame in crying.¡± They both looked at him in confusion kind of like he had grown a second head. What had just happened? Had he broken some sort of rule by accident? Whatever had caused it had struck them dumb. His mind went over his actions with mounting panic to work out his mistake. He had only been trying to make her feel better. Then he realized what he had done. He wanted to hang his head in embarrassment. Two seconds! Only two seconds. That was how long it had taken him to break his cover. It must have been a record, and he half expected a ding to signify him getting some sarcastic title. Luckily, it wasn¡¯t that type of system. They were still staring at him. Confusion in their eyes. He attempted to find the right thing to say. The memories of his younger self came to the fore. ¡°I didn¡¯t cry. You cried worst. You¡­ you were like a crybaby.¡± He shoved her, and she tackled him back. And then they were wrestling. ¡°You¡¯re the crybaby.¡± ¡°No, you are.¡± Pa tried to separate them. There was a spark between them as their hands briefly made contact, Tom guessed it was some kind of static electricity. He felt himself being pulled away from Bir and at an unspoken signal as one they both turned on the bigger boy. A minute later they broke apart laughing with Bir taking the excuse to grab some chocolates. Mentally, he was still in shock at slipping up so early. It was time to learn how to be a four-year-old. Something told him it was going to be a long few days. Chapter 3.1 – Childhood Friends Tom let the most recent memories of his young body bleed into him. It was a chaotic jumble, and the assault made him feel nauseous, but he persisted. The discrepancies between his older self and the behaviours that the four-year-old Ta was supposed to be exhibiting were too great. There were so many examples of that: speech patterns, the frequency with which he touched others, even the little Ta¡¯s tendency to give into hunger. These were all activities that needed to be reprogrammed. Then there was the specific knowledge he had to keep track of, such as memories of whom he liked and whom he hated. All the details rushed through his consciousness: where he slept, where he hid, spots he¡¯d better avoid. He sampled the memories quickly - not to absorb them, but instead attempted to catalogue them. He had to be aware of what his main mind didn¡¯t know so that he could query his memories at critical times to avoid blunders. Even this lightning-quick search had found numerous high-risk moments - like the fact that there were foods that little Ta never ate. When he went to the buffet tables at mealtimes, he would need to relive those memories to ensure he didn¡¯t select something that would give his status away. There were dozens of other examples - people little Ta would never talk to, or his habit of sticking hard to the left with his hand always touching the frame and, if possible, the hinges when passing through the doors. Carefully, Tom catalogued all the identified idiosyncrasies for future use when a situation next demanded it. Even if he got everything right, he knew he would fail to mimic all the tells. If anyone took enough time to observe him in detail, his subterfuge would be revealed. While there were some things that he could fix, like his speech patterns, there were others that he had no chance of changing. He had warrior instincts, and that was not something that he could put aside. Little Ta would need to develop in that direction. There would be a change. It was unavoidable, and Tom would just have to strive to hide the impact as much as possible. Tom forced himself to focus on the present. The three of them were playing invisiblies. It was a game where they would hide in the fortress and secretly observe the others. Bir was there, the blond girl with her striking artificial emerald green eye - along with Pa, the largest of their extended cohort. It was the three of them. Inseparable, as always. An introvert, extrovert, and Tom who filled in the middle of the spectrum, at least around others. Internally, inside their group, things were almost the other way around. All three of them were breathing heavily from the impromptu battle, and Pa was staring at him curiously. For a moment, he let his conscious control of everything slip. It was time to let the instincts of Little Ta come out to play. ¡°Pa didn¡¯t have to elbow so hard.¡± Little Ta complained while rubbing his chest. To Tom, it was slightly sore, but not anywhere near enough for him to have commented on. But for a weak four-year-old¡­ yeah, to his younger self it had been a big hit. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I couldn¡¯t breathe.¡± Pa glared at Bir. ¡°She sat on me.¡± Bir was in a good mood. ¡°I won fight. Pa is being a baby and Ta¡¯s weak¡± She stuck out her tongue at both of them and then she pulled up the corner flap, as though the conversation was not important. The flap had a very distinctive crease caused by the regular use that allowed it to fold over easily and thus give them a good view of the room beyond it. They were a few meters above floor level. Surprise ran through him. The slight give he had felt under him, and the general groaning of spears became a lot more ominous. The fort was more extensive than he had imagined. They were high. It was as though they were looking out from the third floor of a building. They could see the top of everyone¡¯s heads. Their location, like Tom had surmised, was constructed like a standard school gymnasium, and thus consisted of a single massive room. There were rows of tables heaped with food on one side. Nearby, a machine was spewing out glowing bubbles. A small group was actively playing with them while everyone else watched the bubbles cautiously. They even changed positions to avoid any that drifted near them. A purple one, a significant distance from the rest floated into the path of an eight-year-old. He had just collected his lunch and was focused on not spilling his precariously stacked plate. He didn¡¯t see the bubble coming at him on a collision course. ¡°Uh-oh,¡± Bir said, watching the same thing he was. It struck the kid mid-thigh and then puffed out of existence. Nothing happened for a moment, but Tom saw the boy¡¯s eyes widen. His mouth formed an oh of surprise. He yelped, clutched at the impact site with both hands and his food went flying. Perfect sausages, potato chips and a meat pie rained down onto the wooden floor. Tom winced at the waste. No one else in the room reacted. Some glanced over to check on the sudden commotion, but mostly it was greeted by indifference. It was like it was a common occurrence and not worth raising even an eyebrow. A small golem trundled over to clean up. The poor child had collapsed to the floor and was clutching the impact point like it had shattered the femur. He was now bawling his eyes out as he lay there, rocking his upper body from side to side. Tom wanted to rush over and try to comfort him, but his memories told him this was nothing unusual. The bubbles were usually a fun game that occasionally resulted in brief but painful consequences. A bystander getting hit was rarer, but with the party food supplied and the resulting inattention, it was not that much of a surprise. ¡°Purple hurts the worst.¡± Bir said wisely beside him. ¡°When it got me my hurt for a day.¡± Then she poked her mouth. ¡°Feeled it in my teeth.¡± ¡°Really your teeth?¡± Tom asked. She nodded seriously: ¡°Purple¡¯s really bad. You feel pain all through. Arm,¡± she touched his elbow and then traced her finger up the arm and circled his chest area. ¡°And teeth really bad.¡± She tapped his lips to demonstrate. ¡°Yes it¡¯s potent,¡± Tom agreed. His own memories shared the three times he himself had been struck by one of those bubbles. Yeah, he could kind of see her point. They caused a small amount of pain, pain that lingered for an hour. Nothing like a real broken bone or heavy hit, but little Ta had certainly collapsed dramatically as a result. His younger self, Tom thought, had poor pain tolerance. The boy below had stopped screaming, but was still whimpering on the floor. Maybe his younger self hadn¡¯t been that bad, he thought, as he revised his estimates of children in general. Chapter 3.2 – Childhood Friends Tom¡¯s eyes went over to the machine that had started the problem. As he watched, a child of around ten launched herself at a yellow bubble. It popped on her chest and then she started floating. She whooped in excitement. Tom¡¯s memories told him that the maneuver was not without risk, as occasionally the colours of the balls would change. But successfully hitting a yellow bubble was super fun and made the danger worthwhile. Overall, the artefact created a very enjoyable game, and his more logical brain could see other benefits. It was teaching situational awareness and body control, while floating would help train the kids to adjust to changing physical conditions. It was actually a very impressive toy. The three of them watched in silence. Tom focused on his need for context and forced his dual experiences to cooperate with each other. He needed hard information to make sense of everything that was happening. The brain of a four-year-old was difficult to parse at the best of times, but with the way the integration had scrambled the memories it was nearly impossible. Useful bits and pieces filtered through, but nothing substantial did. It was possible that little Ta, despite living here, had never truly considered the possibility or attempted to observe how things work. There were two compulsory hours of solitary isolation required per day. There were dozens of special rooms to choose from, and entering them was monitored. These were all different, but Little Ta had focused on the ones with the best toys and pretty much ignored anything else. Then there was an actual trial they had to enter for four hours once per week. Little Ta had mixed feelings about it. Being away from his friends felt lonely, but being able to play in a grassy meadow with guaranteed bright sunshine and a small lake to waddle in was also enjoyable. Tom hoped those memories were evidence of protected training opportunities, but he couldn¡¯t tell. His younger self unfortunately was not at all observant. The memories combined with the other little pieces he had overheard did bring things together. They were in an orphanage, but not quite. In some ways this place was closer to a boarding school than anything else. Every child born to adventurers or crafters, whether the parents wanted to look after them or not, had to stay here. It was a rule to safeguard those who were being reincarnated. But it also meant the place was well funded, and it had been designed to protect and prepare all its students for the very harsh world outside this small, protected space. Not all children here were unwanted, and his wandering eyes spotted a couple of not parents visiting their own kids. One woman had five, with ages ranging from six to twelve crowded around her. Tom¡¯s senses were not advanced, but he could feel the threat she represented from where he stood. She didn¡¯t look the maternal type, but she was treating all of them like one would train one¡¯s own, and Tom could see similarities between their facial features. Little Ta had hated the thought of the not-parents. He, Bir and Pa were orphans in a practical and probably literal sense. There were no adults that visited them. A lot of their play revolved around them being the offspring of great adventurers who were out saving humanity. For the three of them, that was the only reason their own not parents didn¡¯t visit. Little Ta had naturally believed that fact absolutely, and he suspected Bir and Pa were the same. The fantasy was not realistic. Maybe they had been abandoned, but it was more likely their parents were dead. ¡°Chocolate time,¡± Bir declared as her hand dived in and targeted a particularly chocolate-dense area of their sweets bowl. She grabbed a handful and then settled back down to watch, one hand clutching her prize and the other regularly popping her loot into her mouth. Pa had Cam out. There was a look of concentration on his face. He was pointing the staff of his figurine at snotty Ma and her not parents. ¡°Pow, pow.¡± Tom studied the adults in front of snotty Ma. The dad had a Pacific islander appearance to him. Brown skin, huge shoulders, a thick body and was dressed in finely crafted gray chain link that somehow neither generated sound as he moved nor reflected light. The mum was slighter, almost petite when standing next to her partner. She reminded him a lot of Everlyn. She was clearly a scout, with her dark hair and leather armor that was dyed like military camo - and curiously, a foot-long blade sheathed at her side. He guessed the pair¡¯s larger weapons would be in a spatial storage somewhere, but why the knife was not also there was a mystery to him. He personally had kept his spear exclusively in his spatial storage, since it was the most convenient way to retrieve it when needed. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. There was nothing better than manifesting a spear in your hand when the charging boar was only a meter from you, thus giving it no chance to react before it impaled itself. The pair of them were powerful, but right now all their attention was on snotty Ma. Their love for her was obvious. They were Ma¡¯s parents, but they were not allowed to be that here, so those two were deemed to be not-parents¡­ They officially visited to help all the children, but no one was fooled. They, like all the others who used the loophole, only had eyes for their own. All the kids were technically orphans. Strictly speaking, they were all supposed to be treated equally, but corruption spread everywhere humans settled and some children like snotty Ma were more equal than others. They had adults that showered them with attention and gifts. It was not lost on any of them that Snotty had better clothes than everyone else. She even had a magic ring that she could use to knock someone away. It was probably gifted to help her if she was threatened, but it was as equally applicable as a bullying tool. That was something she used regularly when there were no adults around to spot her actions and with it, they couldn¡¯t touch her. ¡°Pow, Pow.¡± Pa repeated. ¡°Cam crack them. Turn them to dust.¡± Bir giggled. ¡°No not Cam. I¡¯m full. I¡¯ll crack them.¡± There was a pause. ¡°Who do I target? A not or a snotty?¡± ¡°Nots dangerous,¡± Pa observed, then he looked meaningfully up at the roof above them. He couldn¡¯t actually see it because the hides were in the way, but the intention was clear. ¡°And there are no birds to help.¡± ¡°I love it when there¡¯s birds.¡± She agreed. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s why it was your first word. We get it.¡± Pa told her. She giggled and Tom, letting his instincts guide him, immediately joined in. He wasn¡¯t sure he was following the conversation completely. He guessed he just had to fake things. ¡°Now how do I do this?¡± Bir mused to herself. Her eyes were darting from spot to spot. A fancy bottle manifested out of nothing in the not mother¡¯s hand. Tom¡¯s memories told him that this, while not a regular occurrence, was something not parents did. The lucky child almost always got physically stronger afterward. ¡°That,¡± Pa said wisely. ¡°Target that.¡± ¡°Good one. I¡¯ll make it broken,¡± Bir promised with a giggle. Her eyes shut and her brow creased in furrows of concentration. Fate boiled out of the young girl¡¯s body. Tom almost jumped in shock. Bir could use fate? Of course she could, he reminded himself. Any human could. But for a four-year-old to apply it so deliberately¡­ It was incredible to him. And she wasn¡¯t funneling a small amount, either. It was a flood of energy, and far more than he would have expected any child to have. He watched in awe as it swirled toward snotty Ma. It coalesced around the bottle that was still in the mum¡¯s hand and then shot off in multiple directions, bits going into the mum, some of it into the dad and the rest into snotty. Tom could imagine it priming probability to make an unlikely event like the bottle spilling into a certainty. The mother was holding the flask, waving it around and explaining something to her daughter. Tom winced in sympathy. The large amount of fate that Bir had released had been barely contested by the trio of them. He tensed. Something spectacularly unlikely was about to happen. With the speech complete the Mum handed the bottle over. Snotty snatched at it greedily. The abrupt motion must have surprised the mum, for there was a slight fumble as the flask changed hands. Her daughter rushed to open it. Then, to their surprise, but not Tom¡¯s, disaster struck. Ma¡¯s pricy ring, the one that created the force field that she used to bully them, caught on the edge of the bottle. Her second hand, instead of smoothly plucking the cork out, knocked the entire thing out of her grip. Minus the cork. The precious flask slipped from her hands. Panic flared over her face. Snotty Ma tried to snatch it from the air, but she was only a four-year-old, and her inept attempts only made the situation worse. Not Dad, despite his heavy armour, went around the mum and was reaching out to catch it before it had even dropped five centimetres. The speed of that movement had left him a blur in Tom¡¯s vision. Unfortunately, the mum had the same idea. With them both moving at superhuman speed, they collided. His thick, gauntleted hand struck the bottle, and it shattered. Liquid went everywhere, with most of it going over Ma¡¯s pristine, white, expensive dress. Next to him Bir was shaking, almost unable to control her laughter. Pa had the sense of mind to attempt to close the flap so the adults would not be able to see them. That was not what Tom wanted and his fingers slid under the leather to jam it open and leave the smallest of cracks so he could still watch. ¡°That was a body elixir!¡± the Not Dad cursed. ¡°I¡¯m going to have words with the alchemist. How do you put something that expensive in such a cheap bottle? It broke after barely being touched.¡± Snotty Ma burst into tears. ¡°Oh, sweety, don¡¯t cry. Eloise, listen to me. It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡± The mom said, gathering her into a hug, ignoring the messy liquid that covered her. Using the name Eloise was very taboo. That was very much against the rules, but the parents didn¡¯t care. Chapter 3.3 – Childhood Friends Bir was wiggling violently with both hands covering her mouth to stop her laughter from attracting attention. Pa caught his eyes and the two of them pulled her away from the hide wall, so the vibrations of her thrashing didn¡¯t become visible from the other side. ¡°That was me. I caused it to break. Did you see snotty¡¯s face!¡± ¡°And the not dad¡¯s face,¡± Pa agreed wisely. ¡°So angry.¡± Causally, the slightly larger boy grabbed some sweets and popped them in his mouth. They crunched loudly as he chewed. Tom wasn¡¯t interested in the sweet candy. He kind of wanted to go and get one of those sausages instead. Then he noticed the two of them were looking at him. It was the same strange look as earlier. A sinking feeling struck him, and he instantly stepped sideways into the pseudo-system room. His body, now separate from him, started reacting in the appropriate fashion, and the concerned looks vanished. With both hands together, he smacked his own cheeks in frustration. Another misstep. Being here, in the system room, was a waste of time. He could be practicing being younger, but he had absolutely no idea about how to react to what he had just witnessed. The absurdity of it ¨C he just couldn¡¯t envisage how a four-year-old was even supposed to respond. Probably the way Bir did. But the adult him didn¡¯t know how to mimic that sort of behaviour. ¡°Why is this so hard?¡± he screamed, confident that no one would hear or answer him. It was ridiculous. That prank. A four-year-old using fate for a practical joke. She most likely wasn¡¯t even reincarnated - his memories told him she had done this a couple of times before. But her control, the volume of her fate pool ¨C both of those had been impressive. She had to possess at least forty points; possibly more. How could she have so much? Another entry was dutifully added to his to-do list. Out of the corner of his eyes, on the wall, he noticed it updating in real time. Tom strove to put it out of his mind. On the screen, the three of them had retreated deeper into the hide fort in an effort to avoid the notice of the not parents. Tom wondered what to do. Then he focused. He had to accomplish better acting. He had to learn to mimic behaving like a little kid. Mentally grumbling to himself, he left his system room. The trio were playing heroes versus monsters. He gambled that he could ponder the future while participating on autopilot, and stopped paying active attention to the game. His overall aim couldn¡¯t be clearer. It was to get stronger and make a difference, and that promise when he accepted reincarnation meant he could. That was locked in. A wellspring of hope and motivation, and the broad steps required to do so were also evident. The only issue was his frightening lack of knowledge. Unfortunately, he had died before any children had been born, so he really didn¡¯t know the rules he was going to be subjected to for the next eleven years. After that, once the experience shop unlocked, it would be a different story, but until that point, he was blind. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The blind spots of the situation bothered him. What was going on with the assassins targeting him and the other reincarnated ones? His brain itched in response to that thought, as though there was a memory that he was supposed to have that could answer it. He focused, but the feeling faded. More reason, he thought with a dismissive laugh, to work out why were there holes in his memories. Then his mind turned to the state of humanity. How was it going? How big was the city? And did it matter? There was no specific knowledge that could directly help. However, he was pretty sure this was the only orphanage around here, which gave an indication of the town¡¯s population. If this was the only one, it meant that the town was only generating thirty babies every year. That was not a lot when you thought about it. A hundred people could create that many if they were breeding constantly. But was that a choice that individuals who made it to the competition would make? He doubted it. There was, Tom realised after a moment of consideration, no easy way to estimate the number of adults from the children. While a population estimate could have been useful, it didn¡¯t matter. In the conversation he had eavesdropped on, Pete had thought they could catch the dragon¡¯s ranking points, and that was what was important. Only a million humans had entered the competition, and probably a third had died within the first six months. Whether the remainder was ten thousand or half a million, as far as he could guess, didn¡¯t matter much. All that Tom cared about was getting to a high enough place to save the billions who were still coming. In hindsight, given the threat of the assassins, he figured the most important question for him currently was this: how much freedom to train his body and abilities did he have? He remembered those solitary places that they got sent to. Little Ta didn¡¯t know, but he was hopeful that would be an option. With the assassins hunting him, alone-time in a warded room was going to be vital. Then there was the issue of the physical impact of his training. Once he got serious about it, he would develop calluses and start to move differently as muscles built up. Mentally, he could feel the to-do list upgrading. He would need to watch the older kids. Provided a segment of them took physical development seriously, Tom would be able to do the same. He guessed he would just have to make sure he was not the best of his cohort and in doing so, avoid painting a target on his back. There were so many questions jumping around in his head that it almost hurt, and he only had a vague idea of how to deal with them. It was trite to say time will help, but that was what he was telling himself now. Most of them would be answered with time. Frustrated, he grabbed one of the boiled lollies and popped it into his mouth while examining his two companions. They definitely wouldn¡¯t be able to help answer any of the random questions pounding in his brain. Before either of them noticed his distracted state, he moved the ugly monster dolls he was using: ¡°Pow, pow.¡± He flung one of them in the air to signify a direct strike of Cam¡¯s devastating magic and let the others flee. Those piled up behind Bir, using her as cover. The adult in him frowned at the game. It was not realistic. There was no way these monsters would hide. If this were real, they would have been driven insane by the presence of a sapient. They would have abandoned all sense of self preservation and charged Cam¡¯s position. He pushed the irritated thought aside and focused on the sweet flavour flooding his mouth. It felt so good. Appreciatively, he savoured the taste of the sugary treat. The experience almost made him cry. It had been over forty years since he last had one, back on earth, when things were still normal. The taste brought back too many bittersweet memories, memories of what they had and what they had lost. Then, he did not have to worry about monsters and competitions; on the other hand, neither did he have magic. And magic, he reminded himself, made up for a lot of the world¡¯s injustices. Providing they could place high enough in the competition, his treacherous mind reminded him to ruin the moment. If they couldn¡¯t get at least third, not even magic would be able to compensate for the sufferings of the billions of humans. Next to him Pa was waving Cam around: ¡°Pow, pow, splash.¡± Tom turned the monsters over to show that they were dead. Bir giggled: ¡°Splash like I made the potion. And mean Snotty cried. She cried lots.¡± She added happily. The adult Tom wanted to tell her off for taking pleasure in another¡¯s suffering, but the child within him agreed wholeheartedly. Tom hated what that implied, but he knew what he had to say: ¡°We got her good.¡± Chapter 4.1 – An Isolation Room Tom¡¯s memories continued to settle inside him and, as they did, his immediate needs consolidated themselves. He had to get his eyes on one of the isolation rooms. He desperately needed a training sanctuary. It was necessary for his psyche that these rooms could act as one. In the meantime, everything about being four and acting that age was enough to make him scream. He moved the toys around. Then they broke up for a potty break. Bir went from playing happily to running off urgently. Since they had left the fort, they switched to playing with the bubbles. Even his cynical mind had to admit it was fun, at least for the first ten minutes. His coordination was as terrible as he had feared, but he had to admit the physical play was nice. It was useful to determine firsthand how restrictive the new body was. He successfully popped one of the floating bubbles, jumping in front of Pa to do so. It let him float for about twenty seconds. He only had moderate expectations, but even against them the magic was underwhelming. It was especially so due to the fact that, in his previous life, with the help of his stone domain, he could effectively fly. The other two children, however, were having an amazing time, so he pretended to do so as well. A purple bubble flashed into existence. It was heading toward him. He rotated away, pretending he hadn¡¯t seen it. ¡°Ta, look out.¡± Bir yelled. He turned to face her - and then he felt the energy from the bubble strike him. It was a letdown. Tom had expected it to feel like his calf had been chewed on to the point of the bones getting teeth imprints, but instead it was like being kicked by a horse. Nothing worth worrying about. Bir¡¯s mouth opened in shock. Others were regarding him similarly, and then Tom remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Instantly he entered the system room to allow little Ta to start the waterworks. On the screen, lots of kids crowded around him and collectively they moved him away from the dangerous bubble machine. He recovered. They played with the bubbles some more and then, growing hot, tired and sweaty, they had a break. There was sparkling lemonade, which was yummy but not refreshing, and he finally got a sausage. It was kid¡¯s food, and thus disappointingly bland. More than anything, Tom wanted to train, but he knew that he couldn¡¯t do so because of the threat of the assassins. Little Ta would do everything in his power to avoid the isolation rooms, so he had to do the same. At Bir¡¯s insistence, since she was their de-facto leader, they retreated into the fort. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. It had been less than half a day and it shouldn¡¯t have been affecting him as much as it was. But he knew what the two were planning, and it made him scream internally. Tom liked to spend time fighting and not playing with figurines, but he suppressed his feelings and laughed along with them, pretending this was the best afternoon ever. Unlimited party food and no compulsory isolation sessions or lectures meant it was a special holiday. That was the definition of fun for a four-year-old, so he spent a couple of fate points to help him act the part and hide his inner feelings. The fate points would shift probabilities to help him achieve his aims. Bir was even more amped than he was. Pa remained subdued, but that was just the sort of a child he was. They scrambled upward, climbing vertically, then using small, body-length mini slides at the dead ends before finding another way up. As they went, he paid attention to the construction. At the first glance, it appeared flimsy and made by kids, but it had been clearly built by adults who knew what they were doing. Everything meshed together too perfectly. There were always multiple routes available and a variety of obstacles to pass. For a four-year-old, getting high up, which they all wanted to do, was a decent workout. There were other unimportant details that gave it away. The load-bearing spears had metal fused at the joints to keep them together, and the monster hides located in key spots had a neat stitching that a kid would have been incapable of. It was like a kid¡¯s play center, just built larger and with magic. There were regular artefacts that released glowing globules of light; those would float along the ceilings of the various tunnels. You could even pop them if you wanted, though that made the passages dark and gloomy, so, following Little Ta¡¯s memories, he avoided doing it. Then there were the clear windows fused seamlessly into the hides. The windows let the light flood into areas the globes couldn¡¯t reach, and, of course, there were the various magical inclusions to make everything more interesting. There were self-resetting boom traps that would knock you backwards, and trapdoors that would cause you to fall a few meters before magically slowing you down so you wouldn¡¯t hurt yourself. The latter were apparently well-known, as Bir and Pa started giggling in anticipation while approaching them. Tom pretended to be ignorant and overly surprised by the fall. The other two loved that. Exploring the giant structure was kind of fun, but Tom knew it wouldn¡¯t last. Bir puffed, pulled to a halt. She went to the side and flicked a hide up to reveal a gap they could see through down to the gymnasium. Pa had an eviler plan. He got Cam out, then opened a pocket on an inner wall and started pulling out monster figurines and two hero ones. These weren¡¯t stuffed dolls like the ones from before, but instead hard statues that looked like they had been created out of monster bones. Artistically, the detailed sculpturing itself was merely impressive, but the artwork and the colourful paint lines added to each model made them look downright real, especially if you glimpsed them out of the corner of your eye. It was like they were waiting there, preparing to pounce. Tom¡¯s heart sank when he realized what the two of them were going to make him do. Since it was his turn, he took the hero figurine. It was Thunder Fists, and the guy looked ridiculous, bulging muscles and a goddamn cape like a blond superman. ¡°Pow pow.¡± He and Cam fought the monsters. The other two appeared to love every minute of it. His stomach rumbled. They switched to playing invisibilies again, which was easy because they were already in position. As he watched, there was a flurry of activity and a lot of golems activated. They went over to the party table and the hot dishes from lunch were all removed and new ones, suitable for dinner, were delivered. ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± Bir said immediately. ¡°Let¡¯s race to dinner.¡± Chapter 4.2 – An Isolation Room Tom followed, launching himself down steep tunnels, squealing with the others when they took a long slide. Then they burst into the hall proper. There was already a long queue there, and they joined it immediately. There was not a single adult in sight; however, everyone remained perfectly well-behaved. The golems stood sentry, and Tom¡¯s memory reminded him how they responded to line-cutting. Distractedly, his eyes swept the space. The way it had been divided into multiple active use areas was impressive. It had turned something that would otherwise be a sterile dining environment into a community hub. Then his explorative gaze paused for a moment as he noticed a big metal door that was out-of-place even amongst the eclectic features of the large room. It was large, bulky, and he guessed secure. However, there was something off about it. Somehow, it felt new. Tom struggled to understand that emotion. How was it new? It felt it, but didn¡¯t look like it. The metal was no longer shiny, the woodwork on either side was the same as everywhere else. Then why? Was there an explanation for how he was reacting? Curiously, he prodded Little Ta¡¯s memory even as the queue they were in slowly moved forward. There was nothing there. The younger him had walked past the door hundreds of times but never consciously registered its existence. Tom took a half step forward and then stopped himself. Something was off and he wasn¡¯t sure this wasn¡¯t a trap for those who had been reincarnated. Some form of illusionary trap, maybe. ¡°Ta, why stare at wall?¡± Pa asked. ¡°What?¡± Tom almost jumped guiltily. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡± he stopped and searched for a combined excuse and distraction that he could use. ¡°I¡¯m not looking at the wall. Just thinking about Thunder Fists.¡± He tore his gaze away from the spot. The presence of the reinforced door nagged, at him, but for now he had to ignore whatever that was. The line moved again, and then it was time to select their dinner. He went past the lovely-smelling exotic dishes - curries, plates of vegetables, and what appeared to be succulent pork with a layer of crackling. His mouth watered, but he ignored those offerings and held his plate empty until he reached near the end of the queue and then served himself the spaghetti. He hated every moment of the experience and in a couple of months he would start maturing his food palate, but for now he wouldn¡¯t take any risks. He ate what little Ta had liked. The spaghetti with a healthy dose of cheese was surprisingly tasty. They left, heading toward their sleeping wing. Finally, Tom thought to himself. This was his chance. He pointed at an isolation room they were passing: ¡°I want a toy.¡± Bir stared at the closed doors in surprise: ¡°It¡¯s a cel¡­ a cele¡­¡± she stuttered and then gave up and changed what she was saying. ¡°It¡¯s a party week. We don¡¯t have to do silent time. It¡¯s not needed.¡± ¡°Toy,¡± Tom insisted. ¡°I open and you stop the door closing.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I want the toy. Just I go in and you stop the door.¡± He repeated. ¡°Will it work?¡± Pa asked, doubtfully. He shrugged. There was only one way to see and getting accidentally stuck in the room for a couple of hours sounded better than anything else. ¡°Only one way to find out?¡± He suggested, and when Pa nodded, he approached the doors with determined steps. The other two followed, and when they were in position, he firmly placed his hand on the sensor. The gateway opened. ¡°Quick.¡± He ordered. Bir and Pa went to block the doors, and Tom entered the room. It was the size of a large bedroom, and absolutely packed with equipment. He moved towards the toy boxes - then stopped as he noticed the writing. It was everywhere. Warning: security is not guaranteed to work unless you are alone, and the door fully shut. Then another line, near what appeared to be combat dummies. Room not rated for spells stronger than tier 2. On a console with multiple buttons and dials, the following was written: Press for extra security if using abilities more powerful than tier 1. Hold hand here and request the desired rank of combat dummy to activate direct opponent. His eyes darted around. Two hours a day in here. He was definitely going to get the most he could out of it. Relief flooded through him. This was much better than he had feared. The extensive collection on the bookshelf caught his attention. It covered the entire wall. Greedily, he skimmed the titles. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. These were all great topics, and Tom couldn¡¯t wait to read them. He could see the last two especially guiding his short-term development. Best of all, the existing setup meant that, from the start, he would get a guaranteed two hours per day in here. In other words, a time period during which he could be as abnormal as he wanted to. He could study the theoretical books safely, or else do intense training that would be off limits where others could see him. That was a spectacular opportunity. ¡°Ta, why are you so slow?¡± Pa called. He jerked, having not realized he had frozen only halfway in. Tom glanced back at him. The other child had left his post and had wandered into the room as well. His heart sank and panic set in when he saw that, and imagined the isolation room sealing them in, but thankfully Bir was still holding position in the right spot. ¡°There,¡± he declared, pointing at one of the three toy boxes off to the side. Pretending that he had been struggling to decide between them. The one he selected was the one intended for the kids their age, so if anything was spying on them, they wouldn¡¯t be surprised. He forced the lid open to reveal the carefully-stacked arrangement of toys. He grabbed the toy he could recall playing with. When he stood up, Pa was at the bookshelf and Bir was squealing as the door was trying to close and banging into her. Then the two of them fled the room, and the doors clicked shut behind them. ¡°Why did you do that Pa. You left and the doors are bad.¡± These were now closed, but she kicked them anyway. ¡°Naughty big doors. They kept trying to shut.¡± Tom stopped himself from laughing in response to her red-faced indignation. Instead, he held up his prize: ¡°I got it.¡± It was a train engine, something that none of the others would recognize. It was not like they existed here, and he doubted anyone would have bothered to recreate children¡¯s books that might reference them. A crafter had created this presumably for a nostalgic reason, but there was a big difference between a one-off toy and the societal framework necessary to allow others to understand the artefact. To those who hadn¡¯t experienced a life on Earth, the toy likely appeared to be a curiosity, a weird box with wheels. Pretending excitement, Tom sat cross-legged and placed the train on the floor in front of him. There was a green button and when he pressed it, the wheels moved as though the thing had batteries. Tom had to admit that it was fun to watch, since it stirred long-forgotten memories. It was probably why the crafter had made it in the first place. There was another switch. He toggled it on, and lights lit up along the side of the toy. Beautiful. ¡°Stupid toy we didn¡¯t need it.¡± Bir said. ¡°You almost get stuck and it¡¯s not even a good one.¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t.¡± He answered. The train was in front of him, but apart from its slight nostalgic value, it added nothing to his life, not even as a distraction. The act of retrieving it, though, was a different matter. That was a success, and it had confirmed that the entire orphanage system was set up to aid reincarnators. There were direct benefits, too, like the fact that he would not need to seek out solitary protected spaces because they were being forced upon him, but mainly it made him feel better about the situation. The assassins had been a shock, but if humans had built all this, it was likely that these had been countered, and, providing he showed due diligence and did not make any waves he would be protected. The lights above flickered a warning, and Tom got to his feet hurriedly. Being out of their dorms after lights-out was scary; they had all gone through that at some point, and none of them wanted to repeat the experience. The third floor was dedicated to those under eight, a set of sixteen barracks-like rooms split evenly across the four different age ranges. The seven three-year-olds were, of course, shoved into his cohort¡¯s dorms. There was no segregation by sexes at their age, so the three of them piled into their normal room. Tom, for appearance¡¯s sake, sat on the floor, next to his bed playing with the toy he had pinched. He knew from experience that it would disappear by morning, so he pretended to focus on getting the most out of it. As he watched it roll itself from spot to spot and made its lights flash in different ways, he considered what skills he needed to prioritize. There was magic here that guided this train. Unlike the earthly ones, it had a boomerang effect that caused it to return to its user. Tom shook his head, disappointed in himself. So what if crafting had progressed significantly since he had died? That insight did nothing for him right now. Rather than observing useless shit, he had to spend his time focusing on his build. Unfortunately, he knew little about the rules, but what he had seen in the training room made him hopeful that he could quickly close his knowledge gap. All he could do was be thankful that the solitary humans who had entered Existentia had banded together and spent some time considering the best way to give opportunities to both normal children and the reincarnated ones. But his fate pool was full, and waiting would be wasteful. Yes, a better understanding of how everything worked would help direct his efforts, but what he did now would be pointless at worst, so he wasn¡¯t about to hold back. What specific skills did he want to develop? He had a vague idea of the direction he wanted to take with his build, but not much more. This time, he was not going to be a tank. Entering every battle knowing that he was about to be hurt might have been vital for keeping his friends alive in his last life, but not this time. Someone else could take that role. It was the same with crafting. Tom was always honest with himself. If he had a mythical title to support crafting, then he would do it anyway for the ranking points, but he didn¡¯t and without that sort of incentive there was no way he was going in that direction. What else? He really wanted a battle precognition skill. The intense desire for it was weird. It felt unnatural for him to possess such feelings, as he had always intended to take such a skill. Any build that lets you reach a high level without one, all of his memories agreed, would be an act of negligence. You would have to be a moron not to buy one no matter what role you filled. When you fought truly powerful opponents, capable of casting spells that could destroy you in one hit over a wide area if you weren¡¯t pre-warned, you were dead. Tom had always assumed his build would have that as one of the earlier uses of his experience. However, the intensity of the desire surprised him. He didn¡¯t know why he wanted the ability so much, but it didn¡¯t take much to work out that the urge had something to do with his missing memories. The holes were strange, but he guessed it was probably a common symptom related to being reincarnated. Hopefully, the books in the isolation rooms would explain what those gaps were. That¡¯s what he didn¡¯t want: the question was which way to take his build. What, apart from a heap of ranking points, did he desire from this second chance? Stealth, Assassin, Healer, or a specialization in doing damage? And, if he went down that last path, was it best to focus on multiple enemies or single ones? There were so many options to consider. The dilemma was which one was best to pursue. Judging by his past life, specializing in everything was not an option. This time he would not be a generalist; instead he would be a specialist capable of incredible feats. Chapter 5.1 – Healing Magic What did he want? And what would earn him the most ranking points? Those two questions consumed him, and he pondered them as he moved the train back and forth. How to execute the plan? That was another question that kept swimming to the surface, but Tom wasn¡¯t too worried about that answer. Execution would not be an issue. He was confident in his abilities, his willingness to train and the way he could find even the smallest of loopholes to exploit. He suspected he was close to the perfect person for DEUS to reincarnate. And it wasn¡¯t all arrogance, either. He had the results to support that confidence. After all, in his last life, he had received a title that acknowledged his advanced understanding of fate and, since he had achieved so many titles, he knew how they worked. That was a larger advantage than most people understood, because the best method to stop someone from getting a title was telling them how to get it. The GODs disliked people cheating like that, and so the fact that he already knew the pre-requisites for multiple titles meant he could work through the list without triggering the GOD¡¯s ire. How did he know that? Tom shrugged at the thought. There was no true answer. Mostly it was about intuition, but there was more to it than that. He was certain he was right, and he had learnt to trust that feeling. When he knew something this absolutely, he always turned out to be correct, no matter how outlandish the position initially seemed to be. If those two advantages - his fate and title knowledge ¨C would work in tandem, they would propel him ahead of even the other reincarnated humans, no matter how impressive their resume. As he played with the train, he focused on the first two questions. The memory of the fight where he had died, kept playing in his head, unbidden. Not just those last moments where the cat-like person had strained with everything it had to kill him, either. There was also the power of both the giant and the dragon. Then the memory reset to the wador. Tom shivered. Its claws tearing his stomach open while it strained to bite his face off, and then the spear slipping¡­ He shook his head, disguising the action by following it up with an inquisitive neck tilt while staring at the train, implying that it had done something unexpected. Those last moments had been a mistake, and a costly one - all because of his own arrogance. The wador had prepared to fight him, taking skills directly to counter him, and Tom, to his own detriment, hadn¡¯t even considered that to be possible. As a result, he had been easily slaughtered in a battle he entered willingly, believing he had the upper hand. However, that wasn¡¯t why he was dwelling on the memory. He focused instead on the true threats they had faced in the trial - the devastating power of both the dragon and the giant. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Tom shuddered when he remembered them. The dragon had been the size of a small hill, but despite that it was incredibly quick and agile. She would have been unbeatable, if it was not for their surprise attack that exploited her weakness. One that now she would be very conscious of. Best case scenario, she would defend the vulnerable area on her neck more proactively. Worst case scenario, there would be a magically-tailored artefact protecting that weak spot. Tom knew she would not do the former. That opportunity was gone for eternity. He laughed at the thought process he had used to reach the final decision. It boiled down to see a big monster, me tough, me want to beat it. It was, of course, a more nuanced decision than that, but only slightly. What was the point of being able to defeat a swarm of monsters when something like that was around? It made his choice simple. He would become a single target specialist. Thoughts regarding stealth and rapid attack methods occurred to him, but he dismissed them. Those abilities did not belong to his strengths. To grow into the most powerful being he could be, it would be best if he leaned into what he was great at. His best features were hitting hard while sustaining high mobility. There was no point in complicating things. Spear skills were a requirement, as it was always fun stabbing monsters. As for magic, Lightning and Earth were a given, both because of his prior experience and his affinities. Even as he thought about it, an extra item was added to his ¡®to do¡¯ list. He had to confirm that affinity did not change with reincarnation. What else? He wondered. Chaos-related skills had to be a part of the build because of their link to fate. Any human that did not have a core component of their skillset focused on random outcome attacks was failing as far as Tom was concerned. The memory of what Selena and Jane had done to the giant was still fresh in his mind. The power that the tier two spell Chaos Bolts had reached had been extraordinary. They had almost imprinted themselves on reality as they had shot toward the giant. They had been that powerful - and then the bolts had hurt it when other attacks had just bounced off. All that, along with teleportation and precognition for defense, would be the core of his build. Tom smiled to himself. This was a development plan that would work. But what now? He asked himself. He had fate, and presumably some time in the dark, before he fell asleep. How did he want to use that resource? Healing, Tom decided after only a moment¡¯s thought. It was not a part of his core build, but it was something everyone should possess to a limited extent. Plus, lacking the ability to fix himself up was making his skin crawl. It made him feel fragile. That a minor cut, at least by his standards, could kill him because he lacked the magic to stem the bleeding was horrifying. Tonight, he would fix that, and it would be proof of the concept of everything else he wanted to achieve. Above, the lights flickered, five rapid flashes. With mock reluctance, Tom pushed the train away and then joined the line that was winding through the cleaning loop. The layered spells struck him one after the other. First, his outfit rippled as the first couple of spells struck. Little Ta recognised them as the ones that would clean and mend his clothes. A fresh minty taste spread through his mouth as his teeth tingled. He felt his hair shift subtly and then a general prickling ran over his skin. It was not unpleasant, just notable. He exited the small loop and, as he passed the mirror, he discreetly admired the power of the spell. His clothes were now pristine, the small rip in his trousers had been mended, and the spaghetti stain on his T-shirt had vanished. When he smiled, his white polished teeth flashed in the mirror even though he had never physically brushed them once in his life. Marveling privately at the invention, Tom climbed into bed and pulled the blankets over him. The lights had not switched off yet, and he was pleased that the bedcovers were of sufficient quality to block all the light from outside. Chapter 5.2 – Healing Magic Hiding on his bed under the covers was not as safe as staying in the isolation rooms, but he had read the sign as he had entered the room. This room is a protected space and prevents scrying. Note: Secrets are not safeguarded from physical observation. The sign had been modest, a polished piece of metal embedded in the wood, but to Tom it was equivalent to a flashing neon advertisement. They were as good as inviting reincarnated children to practice their magic here. He had done a lot of thinking about this. Given the warning the moment he was awoken, the fact all the adults had been driven from the orphanage and the magic that thrummed in every wall. Given all those precautions it felt safe to accept this sign on face value. That sign, the oversized blankets that acted as convenient blackout curtains, even the positioning of the beds in their own alcove supported that hypothesis. Outside, the lights went out, and he smiled and pulled out the knife he kept under his pillow. As far as he knew, everyone in the room had one. They were being prepared for the cutthroat world out of the orphanage, and having a weapon handy when sleeping was an easy lesson to teach. Silence is vital, he reminded himself as his hand ran over the sheathed blade. Physical observation included hearing, so the sound of him drawing his blade could easily be noted by everyone still awake¡­ which, as far as he could judge from the surrounding noises, were most of them. If it had been his own dagger, Tom would have no issue unsheathing it silently. But this was a weapon maintained by a four-year-old. It was lacking in most respects, but he was not helpless. Without panicking, he marshaled his mind and focused on the need to unsheathe the weapon without a sound. Then he released a single point of fate to bias the probabilities in his favour. That was all that was needed, as he really wasn¡¯t asking it to do much. With one hand on the sheath and the other on the hilt, he pulled it out and twisted the knife as he did so to allow it to come out smoothly. It made no noise. Tom was only inches away, and he didn¡¯t hear a thing. A professional, even an assassin, would have been comfortable with the precision of the attempt. With more haste than necessary, while maintaining the focus of reducing unnecessary noise, he rolled up his left sleeve to expose the flesh of his arm. It was time to take his first real step in his new life. It was time to create his first spell. He clutched his weapon, if it could be called that. It was, after all, a blade designed for four-year-olds to play with. It was, in other words, effectively a toy; on the other hand, the powers of the place did have to balance safety with creating survival habits somehow. The knife was constructed of metal; it had a heft to it, even if it was hollow, so, instead of being paper-thin, the blade was more like cardboard. This safety feature, along with the blunting of the blade, made it safe for young children to use. Only the tip was sharp enough to cut, and the way it immediately thickened meant a kid would be incapable of inflicting a deep cut on anything. It felt like a knife, but, unless you had Skills, you could only use it to inflict bludgeoning-type damage. Piercing and slashing strikes were beyond it. A mock-weapon for a four-year-old. It was carefully designed to give the appearance of being real and dangerous while being impossible to do serious damage with. It was, Tom hoped, sufficient for his purposes. He positioned that tip on the fleshy part of his lower arm, close to the elbow so that his sleeve could cover it if the healing failed. Then he pressed down. The soft skin parted surprisingly easily, and he was certain blood welled up. He ignored the pain. The room was pitch black, and briefly he had an image of the wound dripping and leaving signs that he had cut himself. Very conscious of his precarious position and the need to hide evidence, he licked the spot, his mouth closing on the injury to capture any leaking blood. Copper taste flooded through his mouth, and he grimaced in disgust. The taste was unpleasant in battle on the occasions when it dripped down into his open mouth, but actively licking it up made it worse. However, the intensity dropped rapidly. When he licked it again, there was no additional blood to taste. The injury was not significant. Mentally cursing the situation, he stabbed himself again. Once more, the wound was pathetic. The knife was too much of a toy and not enough of a weapon. Another thrust. This time, he pulled his arm back and struck down as fast as his weak body could manage. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The pain this time approached the one the purple ball had inflicted. It was throbbing, which told him he had probably done sufficient damage to test his magic. All that was left was to cast the spell. The natives of Existentia would undoubtedly have considered what he was attempting to be crazy. Tom only had a rough concept of the numbers involved, but most people have never created an ability and the majority of those who were successful did it via an achievement and not perfection like he was aiming to do. Basically, they were rewarded for achieving numerous, and usually dangerous and life-threatening, pre-requisites. What he was attempting was something very few natives managed, because duplicating a skill perfectly based on trial and error was almost impossible. In his last life, Tom had done it with evolutions, but the same principle was involved here, and he was sure he could replicate his earlier success. Both the achievement and perfection pathways for spell acquisition were considered almost a myth by the natives. For most people, spells and skills were gifted from classes, trial drops or master trainers. Self-discovery was nearly impossible, almost certainly by design. Tom was pretty sure he had read once that only one in a hundred natives ever developed an ability outside those three sources, and that increased to one in a thousand when you were discussing the perfection method. Tom knew that, in some ways, he was arrogant in assuming he could recreate not just one, but many of his skills that way, but he had significant advantages that others lacked. For one, he had possessed the spell, and had cast it thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of times in his previous life. That allowed him to understand how the spell form worked intimately, and not just theoretically from books. Mentally, he rehearsed the process, recalling how his previous healing spell had been formed and then the tweaks he did to improve its efficiency. The cut he had created was superficial. Tom pictured the likely pattern of damage that the last blow represented, the split skin and the burst capillaries because of the blunt force trauma. Then he envisaged the spell. Usually, the spell form managed by the system would accept the mana he sent into it and do the work on his behalf. This time, he would need to do it manually, to summon the unstructured mana and then fold and spin it into the pattern he had viewed so many times before. He would do that outside his body, and then, when it was complete, he would pull it down onto the wound just like he did with Touch Heal. Theoretically, it was difficult, but not beyond the realms of possibility, especially since Tom had often taken the basic spell form, then stretched and distorted it to drive efficiency. He was used to manipulating the base form of the spell on the lowest level it had; extending that experience to creating it from scratch was definitely feasible. The idea was simple. What he was attempting was not impossible, just highly unlikely. It might have been a remote possibility, but fate could make the near impossible likely. With that desire crystal-clear in his mind, Tom released all the fate he possessed and bent it to that single purpose. Fate swirled out of him, and it was denser than he was expecting - not necessarily more potent, but there was more of it than a four-year-old should have had. More than he had brought to Existentia in his first life. That was an oddity. One more thing to follow up but hardly critical right now. He refocused on what was important. The wound ached, and he missed the diagnosis capability of his previous spell, but this was self-inflicted damage, so he had a clear picture of what had been done, and therefore knew how to fix it. Be perfect, he reminded his fate, and then started the spell. First, he summoned his magic. He was not surprised to find out that his reserves were tiny. The small quantity let him measure each unit as he cast the spell. He only had eight mana, which was next to nothing, but then, the wound he was fixing was equally small. The magic gathered, and he forced it into the spell form he needed, twisting and attempting to combine it into the exact pattern he remembered. His magical control was poor, and his memory was patchier than he had hoped. As he was working, he could feel fate tweaking the weaves he had tied together. The almost unknowable substance directed the strings he formed, shifting them subtly to a new position, and made it so that when his control slipped, the weaves fell into stable positions instead of tearing everything apart. Tom suppressed his disappointment at the ugly construction. It had none of the elegance and crispness of the system framework. Hopefully it would work, despite its clear inadequacies. He pushed it onto the damaged area of skin and visualized the physical changes that were required to close the cuts and heal the bruises. The spell weave would settle into the wound, and then, with a mixture of matter expulsion, movement, and cell growth the damage would be overwritten. It was a process he had observed thousands of times. Tom watched in horror as the magic he had created partially worked, but mostly evaporated away without doing anything. He had been hoping to feel the wound become unbearably itchy to signify that it was healing, but the spell did not provoke that sensation. The last of the magic faded, and his arm still throbbed. It had not healed completely, and it should have. Eight mana with the proper spell would have been a massive overkill. Lying there in the blackness, he chuckled to himself, soft enough that he wouldn¡¯t be overheard. Had he really been expecting that to work? Was he truly that arrogant? Fate was powerful, but the material he had given it to direct had been defective. He had expected his natural talent to be sufficient to get the spell form close to what he remembered, but the process was far harder than his memories had suggested. His magical manipulation ability was woefully inadequate. He flexed his arm cautiously and tried to assess if the spell had worked even slightly. A frown crossed his face. Apparently, fate had done a good job. It had turned his failure into a minor success. The wound throbbed less than it should have, and moving his arm did not affect the injury like it would have if it was fresh. Given how bad his spell form had been, perfection had been impossible, but the experiment was a success. He had cast a completely unassisted heal. His grin broadened. It was a minor triumph. It had not worked well, but it had worked. Practice, practice and more practice, and he would master this. It might take a month, but Tom was confident his approach was going to work. Happy with that outcome, he fell asleep. Chapter 5.3 – Healing Magic The nightmare snuck up on him, breaking through his normal dreams and seizing him before he fully registered its presence. It was a scene from the past. It was particularly horrific, because he recognised it. This was the moment that had forced him to change, the one that had set up the transformation that took him from being an apprentice builder to a tenacious violent survivor in a monster-filled tutorial. Aghast, but unable to tear himself away the nightmare progressed, ignorant of his wishes to be elsewhere, Dux, a fragment of consciousness assigned to aid his transition, stood next to the wall that displayed a simple diagram. She was in her form as a perfect female. The outcome that would result from a placement in each of the spots from first to seventh, and then, drawing his worried gaze, the skulls next each of them. It was enough to make Tom want to throw up - even now, over forty years later. This was the memory of the crushing realisation of exactly what they had faced. The past him shuddered and pointed. ¡°That¡¯s, there¡¯s, it¡¯s, that¡¯s not fair.¡± Dux chuckled darkly. Tears were running down her cheeks. ¡°No. It¡¯s really not.¡± ¡°Then why do it?¡± He shouted at her before he could help himself. The logical bit of him knew this was not her fault, that he was being unfair by taking it out on her. After all, she was just the patsy tasked with explaining this to him, but the situation was so overwhelming his emotions were out of control, and yelling at her did not cost that much. She was not alive in the usual sense. She kind of didn¡¯t actually exist. Instead, she was a limited clone of DEUS. Through comparing DUX to the GODDESS was like relating a misshapen branch floating on a river to a battleship because they could both float. Not as inconceivable as most comparisons to DEUS were, but still a poor one. ¡°Because¡­¡± Dux said in a broken voice. ¡°Because DEUS is not in charge of this. She is only one of eight. Her ability to influence things is limited.¡± ¡°But look!¡± his finger stabbed at the table she had created. ¡°If we get third. Third is a great result, better than average, but- but this is suggesting over two billion will still die!¡± ¡°But five will live.¡± ¡°Even the second one doesn¡¯t spare us. Only first place matters. How could you do this?¡± It was true if you only looked at the death column, but practically any result of third or better remained a win. That was the tipping point where the majority survived, and humans, as a species, became unlikely to go extinct. ¡°DEUS does everything she can to avoid death. But don¡¯t knock the third place. If you get that, your species can look forward to a long and prosperous history.¡± He knew she was right, but he wasn¡¯t going to admit that. His mind latched onto the lie instead. There was no way a GODDESS was doing everything she could. ¡°How is she doing everything? She could have excluded us altogether. Never put us through this. And what of the other species? If we win, do we doom them?¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°They have the same incentives as you do. But you have to realise that most other species will be better suited to surviving, even if not prospering, in the lower placements than humans.¡± ¡°But if we win, they die. Will the lives they lose be on our conscience?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not your concern, Tom. That is on the GODs, not you. As I said, the other species will likely be less affected by getting lower places.¡± ¡°This whole idea is barbaric.¡± ¡°Yes, it is.¡± ¡°Then why do it? How could GODs resort to such pointless loss of lives?¡± ¡°Tom,¡± her tone made him look at her. ¡°It¡¯s done. The competition exists because they want it to. There is no way to change that. The only things humans can do is to not place poorly.¡± ¡°But these deaths, they¡¯re not academic. When we talk two billion deaths, that¡¯ll mostly be kids, because you¡¯re resetting everyone¡¯s ages.¡± ¡°Yes. The young among those who place poorly suffer.¡± ¡°How can you say it so clinically?¡± ¡°Because ranting and raving doesn¡¯t do anything.¡± She screamed at him. ¡°It¡¯s done. All you can do is step up and be strong enough to make a difference. Limit the harm.¡± ¡°My sister, she¡¯s ten. She¡¯ll become one of those statistics,¡± he accused. ¡°And my parents, friends¡­ If we get fifth place, ninety nine percent of people will die. If I survive, that¡¯s basically everyone I know who¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°Not accurate, you know more than a hundred people. There¡¯ll still be four or five.¡± ¡°Shut up. Shut up. Don¡¯t correct that statement on a technicality. I don¡¯t care if the woman I buy my sandwiches from survives. What about the people close to me? Ninety nine percent dying in ten years. Don¡¯t try to gaslight me. They¡¯ll all be dead.¡± ¡°Then make sure humanity doesn¡¯t get fifth. Stop complaining. Fight. Step up and win the competition.¡± ¡°How? With spells? With skills? Is it better to level them or buy higher tiers? What¡¯s the right approach? Help me, please, give me a hint. This is my family that¡¯s going to die, my little sister¡­¡± Tears were running down his cheeks. ¡°You¡¯ll have to work that out.¡± ¡°But there must be rules.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ve already told you them.¡± She said harshly. ¡°Optimal strategies, then.¡± He begged. ¡°Work those out yourself. I can¡¯t help you with that, but I can repeat the rules. Every tier upgrades an ability by fifty percent. Every thirty-two levels do the same at tier-zero, and every four at higher tiers. Progressing both the quality and level of your spells is for the best.¡± Tom did the maths. Levelling abilities, as he understood it, particularly on the levels she was referring to, were hard. ¡°So I should be buying higher tiers. But there¡¯s not going to be enough experience, is there? Everything is about experience. And everyone has to make sacrifices on their build choices, don¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She answered quietly. ¡°Experience, especially for a competition species, is everything. You can use it to buy items, traits, spells and skills.¡± ¡°So, what do I do?¡± ¡°Do you want to save your sister?¡± ¡°Yes, of course. What type of fucked moronic question is that?¡± ¡°Then do the best you can in the tutorial. Survive for longer than anyone else, accumulate contribution points, get into Existentia with an advantage, and leverage that into greatness. Take responsibility for your species rather than relying on others.¡±- In his dream state, Tom remembered the enormity of that moment. It was the second time she had said almost those exact words, but this time they got through to him: the sense of the size of the task that faced him, the knowledge that it would not be easy, the fact that the other species dragged into this mad competition would be fighting just as strongly as he would. Not to mention that burning pit of certainty that he was going to do exactly what she said. Namely, survive like a cockroach, and then, when he got to Existentia, have a plan to guarantee the future of his species. The chance of Emily having a proper life would be up to him, rather than on the shoulders of others. The nature of his dream shifted and changed. Chapter 5.4 – Healing Magic He was now standing with bare feet on hard-packed soil. Real dirt, a different colour from the brown, almost black, that he was used to. It was a visual proof he was elsewhere, yet that change was not important. Instead, he focused solely on his feet. They were pasty white, with clipped nails, smooth, and soft! A sigh ripped through him. ¡°Of course.¡± His body had been reset, and that hardness he had developed over years of exposure to the weather was gone. This was the body he had on Earth before the tutorial started. Others would get to wind back the clock, and he had to start with his weak twenty-year-old body. Biologically, he achieved peak strength at twenty-five, and he wished he had been able to choose that as his starting point. He glanced around and nodded to himself. He was completely alone, like he expected. After surviving for as long as he had, he had been certain that he was going to handily beat everyone else. That assumption was apparently correct. He shifted his toes into the dirt. Then he applied force to test them under pressure. There was a prick of pain. When he lifted his left foot up and brushed his sole, the culprit, a speck of rock substantially smaller than a Tic Tac dropped off. Fragile. Dux hadn¡¯t lied. He was twenty again, but this time it was for real, and, most importantly, he would not be alone. He pulled his gaze away from his body¡¯s regression to examine his surroundings and discovered he had appeared near the centre of a near perfect circle. It was maybe a hundred metres across. Then a glowing blue dome rose out of the dirt and expanded above him, encasing him in his own space, separating him from the world that existed beyond the boundary. Him and the Earth and then eventually the others. He was the first, but Dux had confirmed as much. Tom did not move as he waited for the others to arrive. He wondered what they would be like. It was a sizeable area, and hopefully, that meant his starting team numbers would be on the larger side. The tunic itched, and it felt like it was scratching him even when he was not moving. Tom looked at his hands. The soft skin of a scholar greeted him. He had been an apprentice builder on earth, and that was the body he had now. There were a few calluses, but nothing like what he had toward the end of the tutorial. At least his arms were not as white as his feet. All of him unweathered. It was too late to do anything about it. After twenty years without wearing shoes, he had not even considered that the regression would mean he would need them. Recency bias at its blinding best. The cleared area was still empty, and he started pacing. Maybe he should see how opaque the dome really was, potentially gain a useful inkling of what they would face. Three steps later, he stopped and returned to his previous spot. There would be time later. How long had passed? Twenty minutes? He had confirmed that the longer you survived in DEUS¡¯s trial, the earlier you would arrive here, but he had not wasted questions to clarify whether a year meant a minute here or an hour. Surely it couldn¡¯t be the latter. The rules wouldn¡¯t trap him in this dome for almost two days with nothing to kill. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Pop. Suddenly he was not alone, and Tom¡¯s eyes went to where the man had appeared. A youthful face as unweathered as his own feet greeted his eyes. There were differences, with the other man being noticeably richer from the possessions¡¯ perspective. Tom¡¯s brain catalogued the pertinent details. Around rank-eight, magic user, decent clothes, a well-made robe, shoes, visible socks, and a staff that lent more into its quarterstaff heritage than its alternative purpose as a magic focus. No, he had misjudged it. There was nothing magical about the weapon. It was thick, heavy, sturdy, and probably packed a wallop, but it did nothing more. It was cheap. Tom¡¯s esteem for this other man increased. The man was openly studying him back. It was Keikain, a man the future him knew, who was as clever and skilled as he had originally thought. However, he also had a cold, callous side, that was only revealed after one spent a lot of time with him. Time blurred forward, and people appeared more and more frequently. He was able to get a count. He had survived for forty years, the mage twenty-five, and now that they were down to fifteen years, a new person appeared every few seconds. Until they stopped at a disappointing eighty-six. The accumulated people all looked at each other uneasily, assessing those around them just like Tom had. Everyone gathered here would rely on each other to survive for long enough for their personal strength to grow to the point when they could flourish independently. Though if how they went about it might differ, at least the aims of all these refugees from Earth were similarly aligned. They all wanted to save humanity. The best path to achieve that was unknown. It was deliberately so, and it was probably the purpose of this twisted game. Fame, strength, influence, wealth, and who knows what else were the metrics that would measure them for the next sixty-four local years, or almost a hundred earth years. Once the competition ended, they would find out if they had done enough. The rest of humanity was one hundred percent dependent on everyone gathered here, and the presumably thousands of other staging spots spread out over Existentia. Tom forced his breathing to be even, to combat the mounting anger. He had seen the rewards for the different places among the seven races. They all had, and humanity¡¯s combined score had, to be in the top three of the seven races competing, otherwise¡­ the eight billion people currently in stasis would be seeded on this world in a way guaranteed to create death and suffering beyond anything that humans had ever done to themselves. Tom shut his eyes and held in the tears as he imagined what would happen to his family and friends if they failed. Seventh place meant they dropped everyone naked with nothing to aid them on a planet where a bunny rabbit could kill a grown man. Sixth, you got to spend your contribution points, but for most people that might mean they could drop with clothes and a knife. After all, humanity¡¯s best was already here, and in a hundred years¡¯ time, they probably wouldn¡¯t be around to help. Fourth place got contribution points, clustered starting zones, basic structures, and a month¡¯s rations, which might sound like a lot, but it wasn¡¯t. The only upside with that result was that human civilisation would probably survive, at least in some spots. According to DEUS¡¯s analysis, there would be a five percent ten-year survival rate. Tom really did not want that happening to his mum, dad, and Em. The inhumanity! Internally, Tom laughed at the joke. For millennia, humans had believed that other humans were their worst enemy. They were wrong. Fuck the GODs! Think it, but never say it out loud. He had learnt that lesson. Fuck the GODs! The essential thing was that everyone here was working toward the same goal. Their siblings, parents, partners, and kids were all in the same boat. Humanity completely united, and all it took was¡­ Tom stopped the thought. Fuck the GODs. That was the only thing that had to be said, at least in the safety of his brain, where they probably couldn¡¯t hear. And when Dux had challenged him to grow and take destiny into his own hands, he had done it. He had survived, and he had amassed contribution points, and now it was time to make a difference. Chapter 5.5 – Healing Magic The dream blurred again, and Tom knew exactly where he had ended up. He recognised the battlefield before he died. The past him was ecstatic, which was in complete contrast to what the present him felt. This was another memory he definitely did not want to relive. If he could have forced himself to wake up, he would have. They had done it. Despite the odds, they had defeated the dragon. He would leave this trial far stronger than he had entered, and then he would complete his plan to upgrade humanity¡¯s racial trait, and, in doing so, save Emily. Tom could taste the success. They had avoided a defeat that had been planned by a subset of the GODs. Sure, they had their own GODs aiding them, but, despite that, the deck was heavily stacked against them. They had won anyway. It was a heady feeling. Not only had they triumphed; they had also delivered a devastating blow to one of their competitors at the same time. The dragons losing their ultimate champion would have massive ramifications for the competition. The neutral races achieving one of the top spots was no longer as incredibly unlikely as it had once been. It was an amazing feeling. In this trial, they had turned everything around. ¡°And now you die.¡± The wador declared. Tom startled in surprise. He had almost forgotten about that annoyance. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this.¡± Tom told it, turning to face it. ¡°Even if you¡¯re successful, there¡¯s no guarantee the contract backlash won¡¯t kill you, and, just so you know, my death won¡¯t spare you from consequences, either. The contract limitations continue until its specified dissolve conditions are met.¡± He stared at those scarred, sightless eyes. ¡°There¡¯s no need for you to die here.¡± ¡°Your species¡¯ success against the dragon was impressive, but¡­¡± Those disfigured eyes stared him down. It was a deliberate pause, an ominous one. ¡°Before you die, I want you to understand that humans are not the only ones capable of planning, and the wador are infinitely adaptable.¡± Tom¡¯s warning systems went off. The other person was attacking, but unlike the usual way, time hadn¡¯t slowed. Somehow, over the last twenty-four hours, this wador had got something that countered his dodge skill. Instinctively he activated his purchased trait Crystallised Moment. It gifted him a second to think. The wador had crossed half the distance to him and his skill Black Dodge clearly wasn¡¯t triggering. There was no time to ponder the why or how; his battle instincts took over. A massive chunk of his magic was directed into his domain, and then into the dirt and rock under his feet. He was already connected to it, so the starting priming step had already been completed, lowering the delay. This burst just added power to the mix. A host of earth spikes exploded out of the ground. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The second of frozen time passed. Almost faster than he could register the cat like person wove through the spikes and then it was on him. His spear bounced off its chest as Rahmat¡¯s Power Strike, which he hadn¡¯t even realised he had been relying on, failed to materialize. Idiot. he thought. He should have empowered the spear himself instead of relying on someone else. His threat assessments barraged him with information. A teleport took him directly and blindly away. Another burst of warnings caused him to turn his stomach to stone. The wador kept coming. A blow struck the newly converted Living Rock, and he tumbled backward, leaving a puff of dust and flying chips of rock behind him. He thrust the shaft of his spear up, desperately angling it to catch its plunging mouth. That was successful, and all the wador could do was to half-bite the wood and then withdraw to try again. One threat vector was neutralised, but his overall position was dire. The creature was on top of him, forcing him to deal with it straining downwards, its jaws lunging and snapping as it attempted to get past the wood to bite him. While Tom was focused on that desperate resistance, its four back legs pumped, ripping into his stomach, groin and thighs. Living Rock reinforced the area, but there was pain as its claws went through the protection and reached unconverted flesh with active nerves. Tom didn¡¯t let up his offense. A stone spike punched through one of its back legs. It twisted violently, and another spike opened up a slash along its stomach instead of impaling it. More alarms screamed at him. He phased out of existence as the claw strike that would have decapitated him by slicing through his neck went through his converted ethereal body instead. His throat felt like it had been bathed in acid. There were internal injuries, but he didn¡¯t have time to deal with it directly. He blasted undirected healing mana through himself, and some of the damage was reduced. That injury meant its claw strikes had sufficient magic invested into them that they could hurt him even if he used his phase ability, Tom realised. That was a problem. Another blow at his head triggered a second lifesaving phase-out reaction. Light exploded in his brain. Memories were ripped away. His thoughts became chaotic. What was he doing? Fighting? But why? Where was pink wing? Why did he feel so sick? On instinct, he reached for his mana pool to heal himself. His mana¡­ Somehow there wasn¡¯t any available. What was happening? A beast was on top of him. A snarling cat. He was losing to an animal, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The monster was too strong and fast. He felt half his arm get torn off. The grip on his spear slipped. It lunged at his face. He saw teeth, lots of them. Clarity flooded through him. All of his memories returned, but something was off. He couldn¡¯t feel his body and he was in a white emptiness. Words appeared in front of him. You have died. Tom woke with a stifled gasp. Sweat drenched him, and his heart thudded at a million miles per minute. The horror, the conviction, the successes and the failures The near pitch blackness of the dorm rooms greeted him. He collapsed back into his covers. It was still late, based on the lighting, it was the middle of the night and it would be far too suspicious if he got up and explored, even if going to an isolation room was tempting. The memory of the dream was spinning in his head. It was a memory of why he was here, and why he was going to make all the sacrifices he could to be successful. The fate of humanity has never rested on one person; but, given the conditions of his resurrection, maybe that wasn¡¯t true anymore. Possibly, on a collective basis, humanity had failed, and fixing it was up to him. Whatever it takes, he promised himself. With a sigh, he forced himself to go back to sleep, but sleep took a long time coming. Chapter 5.6 – Healing Magic The next morning, he woke, and with the aid of light he examined his wound. All that was left were two faint lines on the skin of his arms. There wasn¡¯t enough data to verify the effectiveness of his healing spell; unfortunately, he didn¡¯t know how much natural healing would fix him overnight. The minor wounds from last night being healed by morning was not beyond the realm of possibility, but Tom was suspicious. With his likely terrible vitality, his guess was that the injury should have looked worse and his magic had helped out. Well, he would do a controlled test tonight. Make two wounds and heal one to confirm scientifically how effective the spell was. For now, he needed an injury to continue practicing his healing, so he promptly used his knife to open the wound up once more. The cut was nastier than he had expected, clearly worse than last night, and it bled profusely. With a frown of distaste, he got rid of the leaking blood. Then he repeated the healing attempt of the previous night, but used only half his fate. Keeping some available for emergency use during the day was for the best. The spell form was frustratingly difficult to create, and the end result looked like what he had achieved with his first attempt ¨C in other words, so ugly and malformed that it would be a minor miracle if it worked. It settled on the cut, and the magic activated itself. The bleeding scabbed over, and in mere moments the recent wound looked like it was a two-day-old one instead of fresh. Even the color of the bruise was reduced to a dull yellow. He didn¡¯t get ahead of himself. The cut that he had closed was minor and the efficiency of the spell was terrible, but it was progress nonetheless, and that was all that mattered. Tom considered opening the cut further, but decided against it. He would continue trying to duplicate the magic during the rest of the day, but without fate boosting his skill level he doubted he would be able to achieve even the partial success he had to date. He emerged from his personal blanket fort and saw that, as usual, Bir was already gone and Pa was sleeping. Following his normal routine, he went through the cleaning loop, then used the bathroom and walked briskly down to breakfast. His stomach grumbled as he got closer, but it wasn¡¯t ready. There were still twenty minutes until eight when the proper food got served. Until then, there was only fruit and dry bread available. Tom would have liked to be able to sample the fruit, but little Ta would not have considered it, so neither did he. Bir was with a mixed group of four and five-year-olds, so he joined in. They were playing bubble tag, a game where both sides had to avoid popping the bubbles. After only twenty minutes of running through the bubbles, the automatons activated, swarmed the tables, and deposited breakfast. There wasn¡¯t a single adult in sight, and once more he skipped the fancy food options and had his sausages like Little Ta would normally do. After he had eaten, he saw pastries getting delivered and hurriedly got back in line. When he reached the front, there were only two chocolate ones left, and he grabbed both, the maximum allowable quota, and ran over to Bir to share. Excited by their luck, they departed, intending to go to the magic television room. As they left, Tom made a point of duplicating little Ta¡¯s usual approach of staying next to the door frame, and it caused him to almost run into an older girl with brunette hair and a white streak going the other way. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. She was around ten. The collision was minor, but it felt like static electricity snapped between them. He backed away with wide eyes. The girl must have experienced it too because she glared at him and then her eyes flickered between him and Bir. A small smirk appeared on her face as she stared first at the half-eaten pastry in his hand and the full one in Bir¡¯s. ¡°Dragons.¡± She cursed with obvious, false annoyance. ¡°The morning pastries have been distributed. I guess it¡¯s bad timing on my part. But¡­¡± She pointed at Bir, aggressively. ¡°You there! Give me that.¡± Bir backed away eyes wide and put the pastry instinctively behind her back, as though hiding it would make a difference. Privately, Tom thought she would have been better off licking it, but as young as she was, she wouldn¡¯t have even considered that. The older girl scoffed at the reaction: ¡°If you don¡¯t give it, I¡¯ll take it.¡± She strode over, pushed Bir firmly against the wall and forcefully grabbed the pastry from her. There was nothing that he could do. It was so unfair. They were outside the main hall, so there were no automatic protections. Usually there would be an adult around who might or might not intercede. But because of the ritual, none of the usual volunteers were allowed in. She was going to get away with it. The older girl, ruffled Bir¡¯s hair. ¡°Don¡¯t cry, little baby. I¡¯ll make sure I enjoy it.¡± Bir was introverted around older people at the best of times, but when being bullied, Tom knew that she had just shut down. She was almost comatose. The bully took a big bite of the pastry and smirked at him. Fury coursed through him. The entire thing was unacceptable. She couldn¡¯t do that without consequences. He wouldn¡¯t stand for it. With an angry snarl, he charged at her. Different techniques and approaches flashed through his mind, but weaponless and with this weak body, there was not much he could do. Bereft of options, he lowered his head and tried to skull charge her. With contemptuous ease, she sidestepped him, and he ran past her. Then she lightly kicked him in the backside, making him overbalance and go sliding along the floor. Roaring, he got up and charged her a second time. This time, he held himself back slightly so she couldn¡¯t dodge around him. She didn¡¯t bother - a single long arm arrested his momentum. He tried to kick her, swing his fists, but her length let her avoid the blows. Effortlessly, she restrained him, laughing. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you,¡± he screamed. The girl, because that was what she was, remained amused. Then abruptly, she got bored and moved at full pace for the first time. The world tilted and spun. He found himself with his arm behind his back and his head down below waist level being pushed into the wall. She was not gentle, and it hurt significantly more than anything he had done to himself in this life. He attempted to wiggle, and it only made it worse. Agonizing pain radiated from his shoulder. He twisted. Tried to kick her with his heels and attempted to bite her hand when it got too close. It was futile. He had lost. The fury fell away. He blinked, confused at suddenly being able to think. Tears were running down his face. His arm felt like it had almost been pulled off and his jaw felt dislocated, but most of his attention went internally. He had no idea why he had reacted so aggressively. ¡°What the dragon was that.¡± The older girl demanded. ¡°You went psycho.¡± Tom relinquished control and put little Ta in charge: ¡°It was Bir¡¯s pastry. You weren¡¯t allowed to take it.¡± Little Ta screamed. The unnatural rage was gone, but enough of the underlying anger remained as fuel for the younger him to channel. ¡°You¡¯re mean. You¡¯re mean, mean, mean.¡± With a laugh, she released him: ¡°Piss off, kid. You did good, but no one wants to hear your blubbering.¡± Chapter 6.1 – Unexpected Anger The encounter with the girl with the white streak in her hair disturbed him on multiple levels. For one, it was a new phenomenon in the orphanage. Little Ta had already been in this place for slightly over a year, and that sort of bullying was not normal. Hopefully, it was only a symptom of the lack of adult supervision and not a more worrying domino effect of his true memories awakening. His second cause of concern was his own reaction ¨C namely, the uncontrollable rage that had pulsed through him. Not for the first time, he wondered exactly what did those memory holes hide. Was it possible something in there had caused that fury that coursed through him? It seemed ridiculous. On earth, he hadn¡¯t believed the stories of people bottling emotions down and then having them eventually explode out into unexpected violence; but that was what that reaction had felt like, and it troubled him. He comforted Bir, and then concentrated on being a child. They reached the magic television room. The screen differed from the earth technology ¨C it was far superior. When you activated the magic, it became more similar to opening a window and looking through it than it was to watching the regular television. Everything was perfectly three-dimensional with no noticeable pixilation issues. ¡°No, not like that. You need to remove the other one first, it¡¯ll just click out.¡± Tom snapped. Bir had been trying to shove in a memory crystal that captured a Druid¡¯s battle before removing the old one. She looked at him wide eyed. ¡°Let me show you,¡± he corrected hurriedly. Bir let him demonstrate the technique of releasing the old crystal and replacing it with the new one. She smiled and then practiced popping the crystal out of the holder. Eight times in total! He knew because he counted, and then they settled down to watch. It seemed she had either already forgotten or never cared that he had briefly gone out of character. He had gotten away with it. It was, however, a wake-up call. This was a mistake he was making too often. Internally, he examined his fate pool. It was over half-full. He had to address the issue. It was, after all, an investment in his survival. Fate could influence events indirectly; more importantly, the resource could act on a conceptual basis. It could be turned to improving his acting, or at least help to hide or prevent the larger missteps that risked revealing his status to a hidden observer. Who, after all, might be watching him. While it couldn¡¯t directly change his thought patterns, it could cause something to fall and make a loud noise to distract him before he broke character, or cause a coughing fit by having him breathe in contaminated air and physically prevent the action. There were lots of pathways that it could use to influence him, and if he spent it early and cautiously, it would protect him cheaply. Plus, Tom wanted to know how much fate he actually possessed, and this investment would answer that question. Tom smiled wryly at himself. It was not like satisfying his curiosity affected his decision-making in the slightest. Not even a little. This was just something he absolutely had to do. While they were watching a hero kill a wyvern with a spectral axe, Tom focused on his fate. One by one, he concentrated on the image he desired, then released a single point. He asked it to stop him from dropping out of character. After ten points, he tweaked what he was envisaging to create a direct protection. If anything that might reveal his nature happened, he wanted the energy to turn the enemies¡¯ attention away from him, to save him from his own mistakes. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Fifteen points later he had used about a third of his fate pool, which placed his current fate at somewhere between forty and fifty. The amount was perplexing, especially with Bir having similar quantities. Last life, there had been competent people at level fifty with less. This was another mystery to solve. Tom recalled the bookshelf in the isolation room. He couldn¡¯t wait to get locked in there and be able to find the answer to all these simple questions he was putting on his ¡®to do¡¯ list. Under his clothes, where no one could observe, he manipulated raw magic and tried to corral it into the Touch Heal spell form he remembered. His mana would recharge every six minutes, and he had carried out a risk assessment. He had compared the benefit of practicing his spell form a hundred times extra per day versus the danger of an enemy of humanity observing it. The risk, as far as Tom was concerned, was low for several reasons. For a start, eight mana was well below background variation, so his magic should be lost in the noise of the environment. Furthermore, the clothes he wore were enchanted with what he suspected was a weak obfuscation ward, which would hide anything he did. Finally, the entire orphanage had regular artefacts spread throughout it - artefacts whose sole purpose was to spit out magic static, creating chaotic flows throughout the place. Even a single one of those precautions would probably have been sufficient for him to take the risk, but with all of them working in tandem there was almost no chance of anyone noticing what he was doing. It was the eighth time since reaching this room that he had attempted to construct the spell, and this time the result was no different. It broke into pieces halfway through the process and the magic vanished. Internally, he shrugged. Given the barely workable structure he had managed, even when using fate, the complete failure without it was not a surprise. But he was not discouraged. He had years of practice to complete everything before he could level. That gave him more than enough time to perfect this spell, though regularly cheating with fate would dramatically reduce the timeframe. Bir jumped to her feet abruptly and sprinted out, presumably to go to the toilet again. Pa smirked, recognizing what she was doing too, and got up from the cushions. They followed her out. Magic screen-watching was finished. She would want to do something physical after lazing about here for over two hours. The trio of them seemed to drift between activities. Sometimes it meant choosing vigorous play like physically pretending to be heroes and fighting monsters while jumping on top of the various obstacles in the greenhouse. Other times they would go to story time, which meant that an adult they had never seen before would read them and a handful of others a book. Tom spent the day focusing on being a kid. He didn¡¯t retreat to his system room because that would waste his time. Instead, when tricky situations arose, he relied on his more recent childhood memories to guide his actions. In between those problematic moments, in the long periods of drudgery that filled his day, Tom would dutifully practice his healing spell every time his mana pool filled up. Like clockwork, it failed every time. Before he knew it, he was back under the covers, knife in hand, with fate to spend. He made two cuts on his arm and then did a fate-assisted heal on one of them. The spell form was still embarrassing. It seemed a little lopsided, too. On the other hand, he thought he felt some itching when it landed. With a sigh, he settled down to sleep. Today¡¯s attempt had gone much better than the first one. In the morning, he checked the two cuts. To be perfectly honest, the differences between them were negligible. Possibly the control one¡¯s bruise was a darker shade, and the mostly-healed line an angrier red. While he was pretty certain of the variance, he was not convinced an independent authority would have made the same ruling. This time when he left the warmth of his covers, Pa was also awake and ready to leave. So, after detouring to the toilet and the cleaning loop, they went down to breakfast. Tom had sausages and, at Pa¡¯s urging, served himself a deep purple fruit that had been sliced but not peeled. Its outer skin had the sheen like one would see on the inside of an oyster shell. ¡°It¡¯s nice,¡± Pa assured him. ¡°Really yummy.¡± The other child had four slices on his plate. After he had consumed the sausages, he played with the fruit segment to demonstrate his reluctance to eat it. ¡°Try it, try it.¡± With his face screwed up in protest he bit into it. This was not something little Ta would have tried, but Tom saw it as an opportunity to push boundaries. The fruit was both alien and surprisingly pleasant. It tasted like a cross between carrot and blueberries that had been salted. The texture was closest to that of a mango. He could definitely see it being a part of his diet in the future. Even as he privately complimented the fruit, he allowed little Ta¡¯s instincts to take center stage. Tom could feel the disgust that he should have felt get reflected across his face, and he spat it out onto the plate and made a point of wiping down his tongue while making gagging noises. Pa laughed at him and then ate his fourth piece, unconcerned with Tom¡¯s rejection of it. Chapter 6.2 – Unexpected Anger The day continued, and he went through the motions with a focus on his two priorities. These were raising his acting to a minimum standard, and his healing. The heal was boosted by fate first thing in the morning and at night, but never during the day. The initial unstable construction of the spell form improved every day by slight degrees. When examined, it was becoming more consistent and getting closer to the smooth, perfect lines he remembered. While he was sure he was making progress, the injury that he actually healed did not support that hypothesis. There was no identifiable improvement in its overnight state, even if the morning cast showed the wound visually improving. He was starting to wonder if the morning successes were not, instead of an evidence of healing, only a surface effect. There was a possibility that the apparent healing was coming at the expense of the tissue below the visible cut. He nibbled on his lower lip and shut his eyes. If that was the case, then he might be creating a stop bleeding spell rather than a healing ability. The next morning Pa slept in, and after eating he and Bir joined up with a wider group of kids to play obstacle tag at the greenhouse once more. Almost two hours later, they went for an additional snack, basically timing a food raid for the back end of breakfast. Tom stopped in shock when he entered the dining hall. Pa was sitting at their normal table with five older kids surrounding him. The girl with the white streak in her hair was the cause. She held a foul-looking concoction and was offering it to Pa with a broad but all-too fake smile on her face. Tom could feel the anger rapidly building inside him. Next to him Bir released a burst of fate, and it shot straight at the bully who had stolen her pastry. Based on how quickly it had been launched he doubted it was a deliberate action. That meant it would be less efficient than the prank she had performed on snotty Ma and her parents. The diffuse cloud hurtled at its target. Then stopped. It was like it was a magic attack striking a defensive shield. Fate that had been invisibly following the older girl activated and negated everything that Bir had sent. The ten-year-old resisting fate was only a minor surprise. This was what he had expected to occur when the adults had been targeted. Bir stamped her foot, which caused him to look at her sideways. Not only was she a prodigy in her ability to use her fate, apparently she could see it as well. In the tutorial, it had taken Tom decades to develop that skill, and this girl had done it before she was five. If little Ta had not possessed memories of her using it pre-ceremony, he would have suspected she was reincarnated too, but those memories existed. This was not a new phenomenon. She was a genius, and at this thought more notes appeared on Tom¡¯s ¡®to do¡¯ list. Given her aptitude, he was going to turn her into a powerhouse while he developed himself. She huffed next to him. ¡°Adults are easier.¡± A blond skinny girl in the group patted Pa on the back forcefully and stabbed a finger at the mixture of juices and other stuff they had brought over. Tom guessed along with the innocent stuff it probably had raw eggs, curry, and hot sauce. They were about to force him to drink it. ¡°No.¡± Tom snarled his fury rising. A four-year-old against a pack of older kids. Pa had no chance. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. This was unfair! The blond had a hand hooked around Pa¡¯s lips and her other was lifting the cup toward his mouth. Weaponless, he charged. This situation had to be fixed. He had to crush them and show them who was the boss. The girl with a white streak in her hair, the ringleader saw him coming and rolled her eyes: ¡°Giant dragons, boy. Give it a rest.¡± She moved to intercept him. In Tom¡¯s mind, she was the enemy. This was her fault. The head charge had been a dismal failure last time. So, he adapted his approach. In the split second, he had to think; he figured if you were weaponless and wanted to hurt something, you kicked it with as much momentum and force as you could muster. He sprinted at her and launched. His technique broke apart immediately. The proportions of leg to height were off and his muscles lacked the explosive reaction time he was used to. Years of having to occasionally switch to martial technique mid battle, often when already injured, let him compensate for his body¡¯s weaknesses. By sheer skill, he got airborne, his leg up, and somehow, he even managed to be on target, heading straight for her knee. Unfortunately, he was still four. The attack was weak and slow, and she sidestepped casually to avoid him. He missed. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± She asked. A weight slammed into his back and the air was blown out of his lungs. A single hand pinned his two arms, and a knee pressed into his back, making it a struggle to draw in air. Tom tried to throw his weight around, but it was futile. He was thoroughly beaten. The raging anger cracked and faded. He still hated her and didn¡¯t know why she had targeted Bir and Pa, but the rabid need to attack her had receded. ¡°Are you going to behave now.¡± He nodded, and then she got off him. It took him a moment to gather the composure to get up. By the time he was ready to do so, the group of older children had left. Bir helped him stand, and he did so while still struggling to breathe normally. ¡°She¡¯s a mean girl. She hurted Ta?¡± Tom hesitated at that question and assessed his body¡¯s state. He was slightly winded, but nothing else was overly sore. She could have done a lot more damage to him, and easily so. In fact, the lack of additional pains spoke to care not to injure him more than anything. She was, after all far stronger and heavier than him but all she had done was restrain him for a few moments. ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± he answered in a state of confusion. All she had done was restrain him. Just the impact of landing after the missed kick should have left him more hurt than this. The only explanation was that she must have held him back slightly and prevented him from landing too heavily. Such care was at odds with her earlier blatant bullying. It was possible that she was worried about the consequences, but there were no adults around. Once more, he had the disturbing feeling that there was something unknown influencing the situation. Pa, meanwhile, had half risen to come to their aid, but then stopped, torn over the prospect of abandoning his food versus helping his friend. The automatons could be overly proactive if you left plates unprotected. That threat and probably the lack of escalation had made him stay where he was. They went over to him. ¡°Pa are you okay?¡± Both Tom and Pa could clearly see the mounting indignation in her face. Her cheeks were red and there were no adults in the room. A full meltdown would do nothing. Tom searched for a way to pacify her. ¡°She didn¡¯t hurt me,¡± he insisted. ¡°And I didn¡¯t get hurt.¡± Pa said quickly. ¡°They made me a special drink.¡± Bir glanced skeptically at the creation in question. Her brows wrinkled briefly in confusion, then her lips pursed, and she shuddered slightly as she imagined actually having a sip of the horrible-looking thing. ¡°Special drink is good.¡± With visible reluctance Pa picked it up and took a sip like it would prove his point. There was a brief look of distaste that was skillfully hidden. ¡°It looks bad, but yummy.¡± Pa gave her a forced smile. Bir did not seem to notice. ¡°I¡¯m worried the mean girl hurt you.¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t.¡± When Bir wasn¡¯t looking, Pa grabbed his water cup and drained it. Almost like he wasn¡¯t realizing he was doing it, he pushed the foul looking drink a bit away from him and then shifted it a little further. ¡°I¡¯ll make mean girl leave us alone.¡± Her anger was rising again. ¡°Were you here for food?¡± Pa asked brightly. ¡°You¡¯ll have to be quick breakfast finishes soon.¡± Bir nodded and hurriedly rushed over to get food before the automatons activated and cleared it up. Chapter 6.3 – Unexpected Anger The next two days passed with the same routine and together the three of them hurried to dinner. He selected his fare and sat down at the table. ¡°Four adults,¡± Bir announced excitedly. ¡°Yes,¡± Tom answered. He had noticed them because it was unusual to have even one adult at the meal and four were so many he had stopped in surprise when he had spotted them. ¡°Who to target?¡± Bir had that mischievous look that he had started to recognize. ¡°Ta you choose?¡± she insisted probably because she was subconsciously sensing that he had been slightly withdrawn all day. Tom forced himself to look devious as he checked out the adults in the room. It was not at all subtle, but consistent with little Ta¡¯s usual behaviour. His eyes alighted on Ralph. He was over six, so had chosen his own name and was a frequent target of Bir¡¯s tricks. He assessed the relative fate levels between the two of them and was not at all surprised to find that the other boy¡¯s fate pool was almost empty. Given the history of successful fate pranks, Ralph having low fate was expected. If Tom directed Bir¡¯s attention that way, she would target him despite her annoyance at the white streak bully¡¯s victorious defense against similar attacks over the last couple of days. However, Tom didn¡¯t want to do that. There was something about using fate, what was probably humanity¡¯s most precious resource, on a boy that couldn¡¯t be any older than eight that caused his stomach to roil in protest. There were four adults in the room, and Tom focused on them. An instant to assess them told him they were in the same state as Ralph. They were ripe for targeting. He had seen none of them before, which made sense, given the restrictions that they all acted under. One of them looked like the man who had been the not dad of snotty. To stay in character, he needed to pick someone, no matter how distasteful it felt. ¡°Him,¡± Tom pointed, selecting the man for the crime of having a slight resemblance to snotty¡¯s dad. Bir grabbed his hand. ¡°Don¡¯t point. He¡¯ll notice and, Pa, you don¡¯t stare either.¡± She sounded scandalized at their lack of tact. They returned to focusing on their food. ¡°Have you done it?¡± Pa asked after nearly a minute of eating. The spoon that was most of the way to her lips paused as she concentrated. In Tom¡¯s advanced senses, there was another flood of fate as she emptied her entire pool. The dedication to the prank was impressive. Tom looked over at the target before he could help himself. Bir grabbed his wrist. Her nails digging in. ¡°Wait. No, look.¡± It was too late. He had noticed how the fate had split up and spread to impact many people. The outcome was already in play. The man was near a table filled with twelve-year-olds. One of them got up, holding his plate and as he turned to presumably move to another seat, he was playfully shoved from behind. As he attempted to balance, an undefinable overboiled veggie went flying to splat on the floor almost three metres away from him. At the same time, the plate itself fell out of his fingers and hit the floor with a massive crash. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. There was a roar of laughter. Their target was on his way to the coffee stand and barely paying attention to the commotion. It was, after all, just one of many similar ones that would likely occur over the meal. His foot landed on the veggie, and slipped like he had stepped on a banana peel. He windmilled, yelled a curse, and, despite all the speed and balance he possessed, none of it helped. He crashed hard into the ground. For a moment, the floor had been perfectly frictionless and that had doomed him. Bir giggled. ¡°Ta stop looking, or they¡¯ll think you are to blame.¡± Tom forced his eyes away from the target and stared instead at his plate. The entire situation puzzled him. How was an adult walking around with a lack of reserves and no defensive fate to protect him? It was almost incompetent. The string of events that caused him to tumble had not been overly elaborate. Ultimately, no one had pushed him. There had been no magic, only a single vegetable, and that should not have been enough to bring him down like that. Fate, that was the answer and with the man¡¯s lack of it, that outcome was entirely predictable and was most likely identical to what Bir had imagined. But why did the man have so little? Tom would have expected him to have either defensive fate already spent or dormant fate available to react to the threat and counter it. Something about the whole situation stank. He glanced back at the man and was surprised to see him getting to his feet with a slightly amused expression on his face. He must have guessed why he had fallen, but he didn¡¯t seem at all angry. Tom¡¯s eyes narrowed. The man had no fate in play to protect himself; nor had any of the other adults that he had seen, now that he thought about it. Plus, Bir¡¯s comment earlier confirmed that lack was not a one-off for this celebration. The grownups were all functioning without a fate reserve or protection. Was this a symptom of something profound, or was it a bone they tossed to the kids to give them a chance to use their fate? Were they deliberately making themselves vulnerable as a training tool, or was it something else? That was another point to add to his list. ¡°Did you see him fall?¡± Pa asked breathlessly. ¡°Yes, that windmill,¡± Bir grinned happily. ¡°But Ta was staring. Naughty Ta.¡± Tom laughed, protested his innocence, and continued his act. He was sure of his performance. Ever since he had thought to put a few points of fate to the task there hadn¡¯t been a major mistake. His cover was intact, and he was confident when there were more adults around that his acting was good enough to sustain the pretense that nothing about little Ta had changed. As he lay down to sleep, he assessed the last five days. His existence from the moment he had been reincarnated had been interesting, but nothing like he had expected. When the option was raised, he had imagined how unpleasant it would be to be reincarnated as a helpless baby and have to live through indignations such as potty training. He had also been concerned about being a young child in a band of desperate humans roaming over Existentia barely able to survive like the group his small team had left. None of those outcomes had occurred. This existence¡­ He snuggled into his warm blankets. Bits of it were amazing. His bed, the cleaning loops and the dinner buffets were an unexpected luxury. Yes, there was a threat of assassins, but with his improved acting he was confident he could avoid them. All in all, everything had worked out perfectly, and in less than seventy-two hours he would get two hours in an isolation room, where he would have a lot of his questions answered. Then, a few days later, four more in the trial. Tom could barely wait for those restrictions to lift and for him to get into a regular routine that included isolation time for training. His only concern was his healing spell¡¯s lack of measurable advancement. But there was a reason for his struggles. Manipulating raw magic had turned out to be far more difficult than he had imagined. Eventually he would crack the problem, hard work would let him close the technical skill gap, then with fate¡¯s help he would earn his first skill - and then the floodgates would open up. Chapter 7.1 – Outside The next day and a half passed uneventfully, and Tom sat down at lunch once more, his plate filled with plain, bland and tasteless food. Happily misleading any hidden observers, he munched on something resembling a sausage. Today was an even day, so only healthy food was served. From what he could understand, everything provided had been designed to be nutritionally balanced. The labels all had an asterisk to denote that status. On normal days, only about a third of the dishes had that categorisation, and the children were always supposed to source half their food from those dishes. However, the lack of adult supervision still had its consequences. This was not the first time they had done this. They knew how a bunch of pre-teens would react, so the orphanage had the even day rule. Bir next to him was pretending to gag as she ate the same sausage he had. It was all there was today for so-called food, and it was effectively tasteless. He forced himself to giggle at her antics, and then he saw what was happening on the table across from him. He froze. A girl was eating with no hands, using magic. Her arms were pointedly at her side, and the fork hovered in front of her. It dipped down, scooped up some vegetable mash and then rose again. ¡°Ta.¡± Bir elbowed him in the side. ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me.¡± He shook his head to buy time to process what he was observing. There was nothing remarkable about the girl. She was eight or nine, slightly chubby, with dark brown hair, but she was clearly responsible for the telekinesis he was observing as her eyes were fixed on the utensil. She had a spell or skill¡­ No, you¡¯re better than that, he reminded himself. There was no need to guess, so he concentrated on observing if any mana was in play. There was nothing, not even a ritual, which meant what he was seeing had to be a skill ¨C which was far more impressive than a spell would have been. ¡°Look,¡± he grabbed Bir¡¯s finger than that been poking him and pointed at the girl. They watched another two successful scoops. ¡°I want it,¡± Bir agreed. Tom realised his group wasn¡¯t the only ones reacting. There was slack jawed amazement on all the surrounding tables. The girl was obviously showing off the ability for the first time, because multiple people were pointing at her. And no mana, Tom thought to himself in amazement. How could you pick up a skill like that? He could see a pathway to develop an ability like that with magic, yes, but how did you do it with a skill? The fork dipped down and grabbed another mouthful, its user completely oblivious to the wonder she was causing in all the watching eyes. There was a flash of energy some of which struck the fork, which destabilised it and caused it to tip forward and dump the collected mush down the front of the girl. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! She jumped to her feet, glanced down at the smear running down her uniform, and her face went beet red. ¡°Corrine! Why would you?¡± Tom¡¯s eyes snapped over to the girl who had cast the spell to disrupt the skill. He recognised the back of her head even though from this angle he couldn¡¯t see the white streak that originated from just above her temple. ¡°Because it was funny. And because you were showing off.¡± She spun and glanced significantly at their table and met Tom¡¯s eyes. For a moment, it was like she was talking to him. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one to have gained skills and magic.¡± The chubby girl stamped her feet. ¡°I know. But.¡± She gestured at the food on her clothes. ¡°This is your fault.¡± ¡°By the dragon! You¡¯re upset about a little mess. For goodness sakes, the cleaning loop is right there.¡± Corrine pointed. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to.¡± ¡°Fiona, what you did is inspiring.¡± Once more, she looked in their direction. This time their eyes did not meet, but it was like she was addressing the younger children. ¡°It¡¯s a very good utility skill, but it¡¯s hardly the most impressive one around. You can¡¯t even kill with it, and it¡¯s not even the best in your age cohort. Sukarno¡¯s camouflage skill is tier two.¡± ¡°So is my telekinesis.¡± ¡°Yes, but he got his last year.¡± ¡°Stop talking her down, Corrine.¡± An older boy snapped. ¡°Getting a tier two skill as a child is super impressive.¡± She glanced at the boy who had interceded: ¡°Here, at this academy, it¡¯s barely middling. Not having anything stronger than that at fourteen is downright pathetic.¡± The boy flushed in anger: ¡°I have multiple tier two hammer skills.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Corrine said quickly, raising her hands. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant to say. I meant to say your lack of further progress is unlucky. I¡¯ve seen how hard you train.¡± ¡°Of course I train hard. My parents tell me all the stories. I understand what we¡¯re here for.¡± ¡°What are you implying? That I don¡¯t have parents, so I don¡¯t train hard?¡± she asked dangerously. ¡°Not everything is about you, Corrine.¡± The boy finished. There was an awkward pause and Tom wasn¡¯t sure if the jab had been deliberate or merely poor wording. Then the boy smiled cruelly. ¡°My parents also taught me not to be a bully.¡± Deliberate, Tom concluded. He was trying to put her in her place, but Corrine didn¡¯t react to the latest attack. Quietly, she just sat down and started eating. ¡°You need to talk to the psychologists.¡± The older boy continued, unperturbed. ¡°The way you act out when the adults aren¡¯t around can¡¯t be healthy.¡± ¡°Mind your own business.¡± Corrine was glaring at the boy. ¡°Unless you want to fight?¡± ¡°Just because you¡¯re going to be a powerhouse doesn¡¯t mean you can treat people this way.¡± ¡°Is that a challenge?¡± ¡°Corrine, not everything is about fighting.¡± ¡°Dragon, eat you. It very much is! And your defective attitude is why you¡¯re so weak.¡± The boy sighed and turned back to his food. Next to him Bir had picked up a fork and was clearly trying to make it levitate off her finger. Other children were doing the same. The confrontation between the boy and Corrine had been unpleasant, but seeing one of their members having gained the telekinesis skill inspired everyone to try to do the same. ¡°Skills seem easy to get,¡± Pa muttered to himself. He, too, was balancing a fork on his finger, but he did not appear as invested in the activity as all the other younger kids around the place were. Tom stared at the other child in surprise. Those five words caused him to reevaluate the conversation through a new lens. What it implied was far more relevant to his situation than what had been explicitly stated. Apparently, most of the children developed multiple skills while they were still very young. That by itself was not so surprising, as Tom knew that natives would train their young and make sure they would earn a handful of lower tier abilities before maturity, but what was happening here seemed to be much more than that. An expectation that the majority would gain a tier two skill or spell by age nine seemed ridiculously ambitious. Then A tier three or above by fourteen? That was just as preposterous. Several tier two skills with a single weapon being seen as normal? That was well outside his internal benchmarks. Tom was sure he was observing the impact that fate had on ability acquisition. Tomorrow afternoon, he would be forced to go into one of the isolation rooms and then he would find out. He couldn¡¯t wait. Chapter 7.2 – Outside The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Before falling asleep, he made the same cuts as every other night, spent his fate, and marvelled at how much faster the exercise was becoming - even if there had been no noticeable improvement in efficacy. When he woke, there was a buzz in the dormitory. Finally, they were going to be allowed to play outside. With Bir and Pa beside him, they lined up for breakfast ten minutes before the seven a.m. opening time. A massive line grew as everyone gathered behind them, excited to be allowed out of the orphanage. The anticipation had them all wiggling on the spot as they stood waiting. Tom, of course, was looking forward to the opportunity to answer some of his societal questions. He wanted to understand the nature and size of the towns. They ate breakfast in record time and then hurried out. Despite their efforts, including being up the front of the queue, a substantial number of the older children escaped to the outside earlier, as they had taken their food to go instead of sitting down to eat. Standing at the exit was Dimitri. Little Ta recognised him. If any of the volunteers could be called their primary carer, it was him. He was a giant of a man ¨C over seven feet tall, a thick body with no fat, and a prominent nose. He chattered happily with the older children ahead of them, but as the trio approached, he made a point of not looking at any of them. ¡°Have a good day?¡± He said in a gruff voice with a thick Russian accent. ¡°Normal routines start after lunch. If you don¡¯t present, automatons will be activated.¡± His attitude toward them was at odds with how everyone else was treated. Tom understood why he was doing it, but Bir didn¡¯t. She looked troubled, but that expression vanished the moment they got outside and the bright but weak early morning sunlight greeted them. Tom blinked rapidly to try and acclimatise his eyes faster, and when his vision recovered, he glanced around. It was underwhelming. They had exited out of the gymnasium door like most kids, which put them on the side of the building, and they ended up standing on a small strip of grass. Thirty metres away from them there was a wall made from dark stone, and the sun was poking over the top of. It looked giant, but was probably only three metres high, which was way too much for them to get over - but something any semi-competent adult would have no problems with. Tom hoped there was magic built into the structure to prevent people casually jumping over the top, otherwise what was the point of it existing? There was a stream of mostly teenagers heading towards a small gate and with the three of them holding hands with Bir in the middle they ran toward it. An older child passed them without difficulty, but they stayed ahead of everyone else and only slowed down when they reached the exit to true freedom. Tom¡¯s eyes examined everything that he could see as they moved. What they walked through was a garden, and it had been planted to have lots of green. He had been expecting orange tones, but either this area of Existentia was different to where he had first lived, or the green was an environment deliberately tailored to the city. They reached the gap in the wall and spilled out into the town proper. Tom this time stopped to stare. The view was unexpected. The orphanage was surrounded by a significant cleared grassy area. The closest building was over a hundred metres away and it was more like three in the other two directions. Tom stared around in amazement. There were no trees here, only trimmed green grass, with the view broken up by massive constructions that he recognised instinctively as war machines. They were each the size of a double story house, and he could see the glint of lenses, metal etched runes and moveable parts in the massive weapons. It didn¡¯t take a lot of education to recognise that what he was looking at was the magical equivalent of anti-aircraft guns or maybe missile launchers. By the way they were formed, it was clear that they could be rotated to strike in every direction. He could only see a dozen of them, but they were all subtly different. One was like a classic cartoon laser with concentric crystal rings that got smaller and smaller, stretching up over five stories into the sky. He could imagine the energy travelling from layer to layer getting stronger and stronger with each step until it was powerful enough to punch through the scales, hide, or magical defences of terrible monsters. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Bir didn¡¯t care and dragged him forward, and he discovered the amount of grass was significantly less than he assumed. Spaced between them were paths inlaid with complicated metal swirls that formed geometric patterns; these seemed to create a funnel toward the nearest siege weapon. All the supposedly open space, Tom realised, had in fact been purposed to accumulate energy and support the defences. It was a breathtakingly complex construction effort, and each weapon must have taken years of dedicated effort to create - even with the help of magic. As he crossed the field, he attempted to act like a four-year-old, but suspected he was failing. Even though he had no interest in crafting, he knew enough to understand the workmanship whose results he was running across. It was impressive, and he wanted to examine everything. Embarrassed, he took a step back and let Little Ta control things, and was glad to see that his behaviour barely changed. His acting had been passably good, apparently. The freed-up mental focus allowed him to register another oddity. There were no adults in sight. For an event such as this, he would have expected ¡®not parents¡¯ to be lining up to see their kids. After all, they had been subjected to a forced separation for a week. However, there was not a single older person present, and these defences looked like they were supposed to be manned, which told Tom that this was another of the special arrangements that they enforced around the ritual. All the children seemed to be flowing toward the same spot and soon Tom found himself on a road and lining up behind others to get into a store. ¡°Yay, magic sweets,¡± Bir said excitedly. Her words enabled his memories to fill in the blanks. As far as Little Ta was concerned, there was no such thing as money. Adults would just give children things, and this was the best shop for that. There was an old woman who loved to sneak them special sweets and chocolates. Tom allowed the mass of kids to carry him through and, very quickly, they ended up in the shop. ¡°Don¡¯t dawdle, keep moving, one bag each.¡± An exasperated-sounding attendant ordered. She was the only adult present, and the old lady who was usually here was missing. The store, however, was the same as always, and Tom absorbed all of it with wide eyes. They were in a rations store that sold ready-made meal bars and also more substantial cooked alternatives. Each had an advertised buff associated with them. Three non-magical ration bars cost a single credit. Tom didn¡¯t have to ask to know that the currency here was auction credits. It was too convenient to not use them, as all adults had access to them and, if necessary, they could create them directly from experience at a one-to-one ratio. Providing you were doing anything, even minor tasks like low levelled crafting, exterminating vermin, or cleaning you would generate significantly more than one experience point per day, so everyone could at least afford to eat. Then there were the options with actual buffs and escalating prices to match. The better meals, the ones locked behind glass windows, were being sold for substantially more. One had a price of a hundred and fifty, and was advertised as coming with a ten percent buff to all attributes which would last for an hour. Given that in the final trial they had been earning about a hundred thousand credits and four times that in experience per day, if you were an active adventurer, the best food in the shop might as well have been free. Then again, that trial had been an exceptional opportunity. But even if he had been hunting in the wild, that sort of cost would definitely have been affordable. When they reached the front of the line, they were allowed to take a single bag which contained eight lollies in it. They were a variety of colours, but unmarked beyond that. ¡°Visit the wall? Look outside?¡± He asked. He would have preferred to push for them to explore more thoroughly, but knew it would be out of character and something the other two wouldn¡¯t be interested in. Bir groaned next to him: ¡°I want to play,¡± she pointed back the way they had come from and waved her bag of lollies. ¡°There are two floaties!¡± ¡°I want to see the outside.¡± Tom repeated stubbornly. ¡°We can climb wall, look out.¡± She shook her head adamantly. ¡°A little exploring won¡¯t hurt,¡± Pa said, finally swinging the vote in his favour. Rather than returning to the lawn surrounding the orphanage, they continued on down the road. It dipped down, and they passed a variety of shops. Most of them were shut. Both he and Pa seemed to have the same idea, so they left the main street and entered a residential one that sloped up. When they reached the top, the three of them paused. Although the hill was the highest part of the town, it was not much higher than elsewhere. However, it was elevated, and, in most areas on Earth, it would have been the location of a couple of giant mansions which the rich and the powerful would have bought for the view. Here that was not the case. It was another park with five more of the magical artillery laid into it. The closest one was a jumble of metal that looked very climbable. Bir squealed and ran toward it. There was a blur, and a woman appeared in front of them. She held her hand up firmly in the very standard gesture to tell them to stop. ¡°Sorry, kids, this is off limits.¡± She was not anyone that Little Ta recognised, but he could appreciate the way she commanded her own body, the crisp firm movements and the uniform. A high ranked adventurer or soldier, competent and dangerous. She was also the first adult Tom had glimpsed that had a full fate pool. The three of them looked at each other. None of them knew how to react. Chapter 8 – Misunderstandings and Progress To Tom¡¯s immense surprise, it was Bir who reacted. ¡°I¡¯m allowed to explore.¡± She protested in a sulky tone. Then there was a pause. ¡°Dim said, anywhere.¡± ¡°Not here.¡± The woman¡¯s voice was flat. ¡°All defence installations, excluding the orphanage, are off limits. They¡¯re too dangerous.¡± Tom recognised the tone of a professional soldier. This was not you are breaking a small rule and I¡¯m a petty guard attempting to demonstrate my authority kind of reaction. It was more if you take another couple of steps, you could kill yourself and I¡¯m willing to beat you black and blue to prevent that. ¡°I¡¯m allowed.¡± His hand grabbed Bir¡¯s shoulder. Pa¡¯s did the same. The woman smiled slightly, despite clearly trying to maintain the professional demeanour. Tom understood that reaction very well. Bir was cute when she got worked up. She reminded him of his little sister from back on earth. ¡°They are off-limits.¡± The woman repeated firmly. ¡°Shoo. You aren¡¯t allowed to be here.¡± Tom nodded and pulled Bir backward. They turned to leave. As they did so, he got his first view of the town proper. The hill they were on was the only one in the walled-off section, but squished against the mini city was what could only be called a small mountain. It was constructed out of sandstone, but the architecture mirrored a cluster of crystals. Tom hoped it was ruins he was looking at, because the construction was certainly not man-made, and its scale reminded him a lot of the fortress the giant had claimed in the trial. Everything was far larger than it should have been. The fact that the doors were visible from almost four kilometres away meant they had to be twenty metres-tall, maybe even larger. The town was built to press against the mountain, and used it as part of its defence. The walls were a perfect circle, with about a third of them missing where it pressed up against the steep slopes of the hill. To his left, it was around three kilometres to the wall, and to the right, a little over two. The entire place had been built with defence in mind, but not like you would see on earth. The defences mimicked the new reality that they found themselves in. Numerous open spaces to provide air defence and walls that were eighty metres high with over a hundred towers placed at regular intervals around it. Together, they combined to protect against ground offensives as well as any aerial attacks. Tom couldn¡¯t see it, but he suspected there were protections against anything approaching from the Underground as well. The engineering effort that had gone into the construction of the place was incredible. On the macro level, he could see a range of mountains on one side, but whatever was located in the other directions was concealed by the walls. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed here,¡± the woman behind them reminded them. The three of them startled at the unexpected prompt, and then they headed back down the hill toward the orphanage with slightly guilty glances. As they descended, the view of the wider city vanished as the standard buildings got in the way. The street was residential, with double story town houses constructed by earth manipulation, lining the streets. They would not have been out of place in any inner city environment, as they each had a small garden in front of them. Of course, only Tom noticed that detail. They walked down the road slowly. Bir was twirling and being silly. She had one of the lollies and it was doing something to her. She ran across the road again and back laughing. There was a cough behind them. They froze, turned and stared at the man who had appeared. They had not heard him approach, and he stared angrily at Bir. ¡°You¡¯re dancing on the fast road. Have you been taught nothing? It¡¯s restricted to people with rank forty speed. I almost ran straight through you. I almost killed you, you silly kids.¡± Bir retreated into herself, as she always did when around strange adults. Her cheeks went red. ¡°We didn¡¯t know, Sir.¡± Pa said instantly. The man ignored him: ¡°This is not an acceptable behaviour. It¡¯s dangerous, very dangerous¡± He stepped forward and grabbed Bir by her upper arm. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this, but I have no choice. You have to be taught a lesson you remember so you won¡¯t do it again.¡± ¡°Sir, we didn¡¯t know.¡± He disregarded Pa, put her over his knees and smacked her on her bottom. ¡°Do. Not. Play. On. the. Fast. Roads.¡± He said, punctuating each word with an open hand slap. The man¡¯s face was grim the entire time. Tom stared at the scene in disbelief. Logically, he understood this man thought he was doing the right thing. That he had come from a culture where physically disciplining children was normal. But¡­ Bir had started to wail with the first blow. His mind went blank. Little Ta¡¯s memories showed that they had never had this rule explained to them. Sure, they could see the different colours between the two zones and feel the slightly softer surface on the non-fast part of the road, but this was not something they had been warned against. And he was hitting her. And Pa had told him it wasn¡¯t her fault. Tom¡¯s fists clenched. Who would do this? Who punished kids like this? The man doing the discipline looked no older than thirty, but Tom knew only too well that apparent age meant nothing. He could easily be a grandparent set in his ways with his age reset to his youth by the magic that created that tutorial. Or someone from part of earth that still saw smacking children as appropriate punishment. It didn¡¯t matter. This was Bir. She had done nothing wrong. They hadn¡¯t known better. They shouldn¡¯t be the ones being punished. It should be the volunteers who had failed to explain the rules instead; worse, the man seemed to enjoy what he was doing. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Bir was screaming now. It wasn¡¯t right - all she had been doing was having some fun! The pressure was mounting in him. It rose from the pit of his stomach, and was uncontainable. This was unfair, disproportionate. This was an adult punishing a child for nothing. There might be rules on the fast lane, but Tom knew that someone with rank forty speed also had the perception to prevent a collision. Even if the rule existed, it had not been put in place to restrict little children, but older adults. Snot was running down her face. The man had a grim look, but a small smile. Bastard, Tom thought. It was unacceptable! The man dropped Bir. ¡°I don¡¯t take any pleasure in this.¡± She fell hard on the ground her hands barely reacting in time to cushion the fall. The anger fused as a tight knot in his brain, and he charged. After all those years of fighting, the knowledge of how to make the most of his body flashed through him. He released fate to increase the chance of him landing a big hit. Then he launched himself, attempting to drive an elbow into the person¡¯s balls. With his full weight behind it, it was the one spot weak enough that even a blow from a four-year-old could have an impact. Air swept around him and plucked him from the ground. The man stared at him. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± He tilted his head sideways as he asked, and then his nose wrinkled in confusion as Tom continued to futilely swing his fists in an attempt to hit him. They were missing by more than a couple of inches. Held there, suspended in the air, he attempted to scream obscenities, but his throat choked up and stopped him. Above, on the hill, there were flashes of light and loud bangs as multiple artillery cannons fired¡­ the ground shook slightly. A piece of the road under the man¡¯s foot broke, and he fell hard. Vibrations split the corner of the house next to them, causing a chunk of stone as large as Tom to fall. A wind blast slammed into all of them. It made the adventurer stumble and knocked Pa off his feet. The falling slab of rock struck the ground and shattered. A small piece flew into the man¡¯s eyes, causing him to flinch backwards and then blink furiously. The bubble of energy holding Tom suspended in the air did not waiver for a moment. Then healing flowed over the man, and internally Tom cursed that outcome. Half a second later, he was no longer damaged. The spent fate had shifted probabilities, but not enough. Despite its efforts, Tom was trapped now, unable to do anything. At that realisation, icy tendrils of reason spread through Tom¡¯s mind. The pit of anger receded, and he knew how foolish his blind attack had been. Bird poo splashed onto the man¡¯s face, striking the eye. He was blinking busily because of the shrapnel. Tom attempted to fix the situation by apologising, but that set off another coughing fit. Shock went through him as he realised the implications of both this and his earlier throat tightening. There could only be a single explanation for those coincidences. Social Silence, no matter what he had thought, was not lost, instead it was apparently active and helping. First, by preventing swear words a four-year-old wouldn¡¯t know, and now by stopping an apology that likewise would make no sense. The skill was not a panacea - he knew how limiting it was. This was an issue he needed to fix himself, so, in order to avoid suspicion, he gave up on rational action and leant into being a little kid. ¡°Don¡¯t hit Bir.¡± He screamed, channelling his inner child. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to hit her.¡± The man spat in disgust as some of the poo had trickled into his mouth. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got spirit, don¡¯t you?¡± he said, his tone clinically cold. ¡°You sad, old, bastard!¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± the man growled, and Tom found himself unable to speak as the wave of force holding him in place spread and closed over his mouth. The restrictions were so complete it was a struggle to breathe. Even his nostrils were partially blocked. The adventurer wiped the remaining bird poo off his face, and then a clean spell left him spotless. ¡°You brats and your involuntary fate release. I hate it.¡± He was staring at Tom like he was a particularly annoying insect. ¡°I¡¯ve heard all the stories about how often that happens in the orphanage. Never had any desire to volunteer, so never thought it would happen to me. It was even more unpleasant than expected.¡± He glanced suspiciously up at the sky and then across to the house that had partially broken. ¡°Can¡¯t believe a four-year-old did that to me and - were you really trying to hit me? Do you understand anything? I¡¯m a front-line adventurer! Do you have a single brain cell in your head?¡± Tom struggled against the air magic constraining him, but the attempt was hopeless. ¡°You¡¯re crazy, you know? I don¡¯t know what to think. You¡¯re either going to end up as something special or die young. For now, you have to learn the consequences of challenging those stronger than you.¡± There was a small ripple of energy and the invisible forces restraining him fell away. As he fell, he tried to tumble correctly, but his body was slow, unresponsive, clumsy. He twisted enough, so the impact was on his shoulder and executed a partial roll that prevented any serious damage, but his face still smacked into the hard ground. It was probably going to leave a graze, and it felt like a tooth might have been chipped. Diagnostic magic washed over him, but no healing power accompanied it. The man had obviously decided his injuries were too minor to worry about and leaving them was probably supposed to be some sort of lesson. He was plucked off the ground and placed across the man¡¯s knee. ¡°No! no!¡± He fought and tried to land a blow, but his arms were too small and the hand on the back of his neck, too strong. He was bent over the person¡¯s knee. The anger consuming him was not extreme, but Tom lashed out anyway. At the very least, he needed to keep up appearances. His flailing fists connected with the man¡¯s ankles and hidden spikes on the armour cut into his skin. Slap. There was a stinging pain on his buttocks. The blow was actually surprisingly gentle. The slaps were making lots of noise, but they weren¡¯t hard. Tom was in control, but he punched the man again this time aiming for the foot. When it connected, it felt like he cracked a knuckle. Tom almost whimpered the pain. The crazy adventurer wore metal shoes in town, so it was like he had hit a brick wall. Who did that? Slap. Another sharp blow. Tom didn¡¯t try to retaliate, knowing it was futile. The punishment came faster, and he lost count. The strikes stopped abruptly. His backside felt hot. The man dumped him back onto his feet. ¡°Learn to respect your elders and don¡¯t be so stupid as to pick a fight with someone that much stronger than you.¡± Then, suddenly, the adventurer was gone, and Tom used his years of experience to stop wailing like a child. Then he pulled his pants up and tried to look dignified. Briefly, he glanced at his hands and the bloody bruises and cuts his own blows had left. His bum stung and throbbed, but that was nothing like the pain in his hands. That fate attack he had released when consumed by rage had taken up two-thirds of his fate. With a sigh, he channelled what remained and directed it toward healing his fists. He knew what he had to do, and that was to stop the bleeding and fix the cuts. He would leave the bruising for later. He created the spell form, and it came together almost instantly because of the hundreds of times he had practiced it over the last week. It washed over the cuts and caused the skin to itch on both hands. There was a ding that only he could hear, and he felt a thrill of excitement go through him. He knew it was a spell acquisition, and he couldn¡¯t have been happier. Progress, demonstratable progress, that was what the ding had signified - and it had only been a week! It didn¡¯t matter how weak the spell was, if he could do this much every handful of days¡­ By the time he reached fifteen years of age, his base would be terrifying. The bleeding had stopped, and even the bruising that had not been his focus had receded somewhat. It was not perfect. The deeper cuts on the knuckles remained, as he only had eight mana, after all. But the small injuries looked like they were four days old instead of fresh. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± Pa asked. He was looking at the blood. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine.¡± He flexed hands marvelling at the lack of pain the movement caused. ¡°They¡¯re not deep. The cuts have already closed.¡± Bir, who had been shocked out of her brawling by Tom¡¯s intervention, was staring at the wet red covering his fingers: ¡°We have to go back and get a heal?¡± Tom shook his head: ¡°Did you see the evil man get pooped on?¡± He watched Bir like a hawk as he said it. Through the tears, she smiled, and that made his own pain more than worthwhile. That, and having successfully acquired his first spell. Chapter 9.1 – Titles Conveyed Bir wiped the snot off her face with the sleeve of her dress. It was disgusting, but Tom made sure he didn¡¯t react as such. It wasn¡¯t about keeping up his cover, either; it was about her. She had always been fragile around others, and Tom¡¯s heart bled for her. She was the worst person this could have happened to. The girl sniffed repeatedly. New tears began to form. ¡°He ate poop,¡± Pa reminded her. Tom doubted that Pa, who was almost five, had noticed the same signs he had, but the interjection got through to her. ¡°Yuck!¡± She half smiled and wiped the other half of her face. Tom really wanted to push her into a cleaning loop, but he knew that wasn¡¯t going to happen until lunch. ¡°So yuck.¡± They all chuckled and then slowly headed back toward the orphanage while pointedly staying on the correct side of the road. Tom realised he didn¡¯t resent the decision to head back to safety. For now, he had no desire to explore further. He didn¡¯t care how big the town was anymore. What he had seen had told him enough. The town¡¯s population was in the thousands, probably tens of thousands, but not higher, but it no longer mattered. What was important was that he was safe. Powerful defences had been set up, and there was more than enough security to let him develop to his full potential without feeling like his life was continually in danger. He had been expecting to grow up as a kid in a small tribe perpetually running from monsters. Basically, to live in a continual struggle to survive. This outcome was infinitely better. As they descended from the hill, Tom realised after about ten metres that he was moving far too lightly on his feet, given the discipline he had received. Bir tottered significantly more gingerly, and in response he tapered down his own range of motion and pretended to be just as crippled. Relative to what he had experienced as an adult, the slight discomfort he was in was not enough to slow him down, but little kids had different pain thresholds, so he didn¡¯t blame her for her weakness. She was young, and he knew that his younger self would have been similarly affected. They reached the park and played in the safe spaces outside the orphanage, where they had full rights to be ¨C and, as a bonus, there were no adults in sight to harass them. Collectively, they were drawn to the cartoon space laser and managed to scramble up to the eighth disk. That left them two stories high, and the fall was onto the hard moulded metal supports of the weapon. The setup combined with the height they had climbed was clearly unsafe, but, unlike on the hill, no one came to tell them off. They were allowed here, and Tom was sure there was some sort of indirect monitoring to make certain they didn¡¯t fall or spells that would save them if they did. Despite his certainty, he was not willing to throw himself off from this elevation to prove that point. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The day had warmed up, and Pa, being slightly larger, had reached the eleventh disk while he and Bir had got to the tenth. A bell went off, telling them it was lunchtime, so they retreated inside. Lunch was fun. It was not a dedicated health day, and there were no adults to direct what they ate, so the full range of exciting unhealthy options were available. Tom gleefully chose pancakes combined with a thick dose of maple syrup and vanilla ice cream. It was a perfect meal, because it agreed with both his and little Ta¡¯s palates. Having eaten their lunch, they immediately disappeared into the child fortress to hide. They ascended deep into its internals, so that, rather than being positioned to look over the rest of the gymnasium, they were on the far wall instead. It left them as far away from the teachers as possible. From Little Ta¡¯s memories, he knew it was a futile effort, but for appearance¡¯s sake he went along with it anyway. Plus, the poor attempt suited him, since he wanted to get into the isolation room. While they attempted to be quiet, they played heroes against terrors, whispering the spells each of their figurines used, such as pasta blast, isolation walls and big bird poop. Croak. All three of them jumped at the unexpected noise. They spun as one. A green frog, larger than his head, was staring at them. Instinctively, because of the presence of a monster, they all tensed up. The figurines were of the hard variety, and Tom held them out like weapons. They were trapped in a dead end. There was no flight here - only fight. Luckily for them, the monster was small. ¡°Froggy.¡± Bir said after a moment. Little Ta¡¯s memories filled in the blanks, and he lowered the figurines. He recognised that it was not a monster, but a familiar. Dimitri¡¯s familiar, to be precise. Pa was less forgiving. He shoved Cam toward it: ¡°Pow, pow.¡± The frog blinked and then waited. ¡°Pow, pow,¡± Pa¡¯s voice became softer, and then trailed into silence and he brought Cam down from the attacking position and into his lap. It blinked again: ¡°Follow,¡± the frog ordered in Dimitri¡¯s voice. ¡°It¡¯s time for your daily isolation room.¡± They could have split up and run. If they all went in different directions, one or two of them would have escaped, but they instinctively knew such defiance was pointless. Dimitri finding them like this was a mercy. As usual, he had scheduled for them to all go in at the same time, which for them was the best situation possible, and, if they ran, even if they managed to evade long enough to skip today¡¯s session, it would only mean they would get a double tomorrow. Four hours in the isolation room was more terrible than two sessions on separate days. Not only was it extra boring - they all knew from experience you would spend the last couple of hours with hunger cramps. The frog hopped ahead of them, and they trailed behind. The route it took was surprisingly direct, and Tom would have to check Little Ta¡¯s memories, but he suspected Dimitri had used magic to speed up the trip by opening up routes that weren¡¯t usually available. At the bottom of the exit slide, the large man waited. His eyes still went nowhere near them. There were none of his usual kind words. Instead, he turned and walked away. They watched him. Croak. As one, they glanced at the frog. ¡°Follow.¡± Chapter 9.2 – Titles Conveyed It hopped after its master, and they did the same. When they reached the first floor, it turned out there were four rooms available. Because of the sensitivity of the moment and the presence of an adult, Tom retreated to his system room to ensure Little Ta had control. There was no hesitation on the part of his younger self. He skipped over to the doors, scanned himself in, entered the room, and then waved to Bir, who was doing the same in the room directly opposite to him. Both their doors shut mere seconds apart. Tom made a point of waiting until the ding that signified a full sealing occurred before taking charge once more. With a massive grin all over his face, he glanced around the isolation room and wondered what he should do. The bookshelf was the obvious destination, but there was also the exercise equipment, the combat dummies, and the final display which his eyes settled on. There was an alcove that contained a variety of practice spears, and he went straight over to them. Not a single one of them was full size, and the shortest was still too long for him. He seized it anyway and retreated to the middle of the room. Once there, he held it in both hands. His right index finger traced over the grain, and he lowered his nose and breathed in deeply. It smelt faintly of the oil used to maintain it. It was a spear, and it was his to use. Experimentally, he spun it and then thrust forward with a single explosive movement, then pulled back into a resting position. A smile blossomed on his face. There was something about holding a proper weapon, even a practice one, that let him shrug off some of the shroud of impotency that had been dogging him. At three quarter pace, he performed a simple kata, enjoying the simplicity of the movement and the freedom as the spear whistled through the different positions. The full-length mirrors let him observe just how terrible his form was, but he persisted. His new body had to start somewhere. Besides, as it was, he had no muscle memory to fall back on and very little coordination, not to mention that the nerve connections between his brain and his muscles felt like they were frayed. Movements that had been basic in his past life were beyond his ability now, no matter what speed he attempted them at. Slow, half speed, at full pace - none of them helped. He couldn¡¯t perform them. It was more than just a lack of system skills and attributes. His failures went down to the shape of his body and subtle stuff like having less fast twitch fibres. There were other issues. He was pretty sure his arms were slightly shorter than expected, given his height. That mis-balancing caused him to struggle with motions that should have been routine. After ten minutes of a light workout that made a single bead of sweat roll down his face, Tom stopped. He didn¡¯t know if physical activity was safe yet, and leaving this room with blisters would be less than ideal. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. He put the spear back and quickly rearranged the weapons so they were positioned in an identical arrangement to what they had been before he entered the room. Later, if he had time, he would do something more appropriate, like repurposing all of them into a poorly constructed balance course, an evidence of a four-year-old playing, rather than hiding the idea the weapon had been used at all. Job done, he faced the bookshelf. It was time to give context to his new life. The reincarnation primer he had spotted in the other isolation room was available in this one, too. He grabbed it and started to read. This book is written for people who have reincarnated, but can serve as a source of inspiration for everyone. Whatever, he thought, he didn¡¯t need to read platitudes. Quickly he scanned the introduction, focusing on ignoring the fluff to extract the hidden gems; to find the truth amongst the dross, so to speak. You are facing a long grind, and it will be many years before you gain access to the experience shop and the ability to purchase the classes, levels and abilities that you need to have an impact on the ranking ladder. For individuals of your calibre, this will be difficult. Remember, Patience is a Virtue. Tom grinned as he read that piece of advice. Individuals of your calibre he guessed was probably code for murderhobos, given the target audience. Counselling patience was absolutely required for people who, like him, would have spent decades on the edge between survival and failure. He could feel that itch in himself. He wanted to go and kill things, to destroy them, to get the rush of power like he had achieved when he had first arrived in Existentia. However, logically, he knew that path was not available, because the experience metric and the shop to use it were locked. Instead, he would have to bide his time and develop naturally rather than supercharge everything by killing lots of monsters. Tom skimmed the rest of the introduction chapter, and, despite there being no more individual sentences that caught his attention, he didn¡¯t put the book down. Then he pondered if there were any hidden messages. There was a secret message. He was sure of it. The text kept referencing the importance of the independent acquisition of skills and the benefit that such an approach gained. Then, separately, it mentioned that interviews with reincarnators revealed they ended up with more titles than expected by the time they reached maturity. The two lines of thought were never linked in the same sentence and rarely in the same paragraph, but on his third re-read Tom became certain of what it was trying to say. Effort spent on gaining abilities would lead to titles, and both quality and quantity counted. ¡°This is a chance for me to make a difference,¡± he whispered to himself in the empty room. He would do whatever it took to independently acquire as many abilities as possible. It was not like he hadn¡¯t already been intending to do so, but it was nice to know that there would be a carrot down the line to reward his efforts. What was important was that while he was sure the orphanage would offer some specialised training to gain abilities, taking advantage of this kind of service was a trap. It was something he would actively avoid, if hard work gave him a chance of obtaining it independently. Having gleaned everything he could from the introduction, he checked the table of contents and flipped through to the chapter dealing with Abilities that Persist Through Reincarnation. The collective experience of everyone who had gone before him was neatly laid out for him to view. Chapter 9.3 – Titles Conveyed Tom read the information greedily. Traits Spells Skills Tom nodded to himself. It seemed that the system was not generous when it came to allowing abilities from the first Existentia life into the second. The only exception out there was for the high-level skills, and that last line explained why Social Silence still functioned. He wondered if any of his other high-tiered skills had made it through. He guessed it was unlikely, as his other two prospects - Fate Weaponised, Black Dodge, and Contract Binding - had only been tier five. However, if his Black Dodge skill had gotten through the gauntlet even at a lower level, that would be a massive win. As for Contract Binding, Tom really couldn¡¯t care much if he lost it. Tom flipped the page and saw the sub-heading of titles. This was the entry that he had the most hope for. The points below are the key guiding rules for the transfer of titles to the second Existentia life. Tom read the summary once, then a second time; he still didn¡¯t understand what it was talking about. The first condition was easy enough to follow, but what about the other three? He flipped the page and was relieved to see a significant amount of extra detail - a worded explanation in natural English with clear examples. Two paragraphs in particular caught his attention. An example of a body-specific title is something like the classic healing sponge version that most primary community tanks receive. This title is earned exclusively by the body receiving a set amount of healing over a set time. An instance of a soul title would be one awarded by someone achieving a unique, or a near-unique, insight into the system, competition, or knowledge field. The award of such a title is completely independent of anything happening to the body. It was that second paragraph that let him understand what the different terms meant, because he had received a soul related title in his first Existentia life. Title: Complex Conspiracy Discoverer: That title had been earned by him working out that the GODs had been preventing communication about the use of fate. A Geas prevented written instructions from being exchanged on the auction house and even made it hard to talk about fate with your friends. It had nothing to do with the body, so he knew he still had it. When he had received it the first time, he had been excited by the reward because it had upgraded the most powerful trait he had bought in the contribution store. Forty years alone, struggling to kill things, had gotten him that trait; that sacrifice had been worth it, and that upgrade had made it even more useful. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. In this new life, Tom didn¡¯t know if the trait had been allowed to come through with him or if this title could influence it. The trait had allowed him to ask a single yes or no question every eight days. It was an ability that could shape strategy at a level beyond human comprehension. For example, you could ask something like, is it better for humanity to go to war or not? To have that answered explicitly was a massive boon if, as a society you were considering the pros and cons. The trait had been a trump card that was supposed to get stronger every year that he had survived. Instead, he had only lasted a little over six months. In many ways the purchase had been wasted¡­ but, based on the amount of fate that he had had available as a child, it was possible that others had completed his quest. If they had done it, and succeeded despite the odds, then that forty years of sacrifice, of loneliness, in the tutorial would have been worth it. But they hadn¡¯t¡­ He put his hands over his eyes in sudden despair. They couldn¡¯t have done it, because it was supposed to be a knock-out blow. But the competition was still ongoing, and humanity¡¯s position remained precarious. Failure was the only explanation. Briefly he felt like crying - the size, the consequences, the impossibility of everything almost overwhelming him. Stay calm, he reminded himself. ¡°It¡¯s not over. You¡¯re here. You can be the difference. The fact you¡¯re reincarnated means there was a chance,¡± he told the empty room. Deliberately, he recalled the conversation he had with DEUS when he had died. The only way he could be reincarnated was if humanity could be saved. That was why he was here in the first place, and he would not fail. He would use every waking moment to drive himself to greater and greater heights. Nothing would stop him from getting humanity to the third place on the rankings. That would be enough. They didn¡¯t need second or first. The rewards for third would give Em a future, and his parents too, of course, but mainly he was doing this for his defenceless innocent little sister. She was currently in stasis until the end of the competition. What he was fighting for was the resources she would have when she came out of it. The competition continued, so he prayed that he still possessed the trait, because its power in this late stage would be almost unrivalled. It was only now that humanity had established towns that they could consider acting with a thousand or more people at once. And the more people the questions could cover, the more impactful they became. He had assumed that the trait would be lost, that DEUS or the other GODs wouldn¡¯t let him keep it, but the fact he had a title that had once referred to it gave him hope. Nothing was certain, though. It was equally possible that the reward of the title had changed. and he made a mental note to explore that once he worked out how to check his status. There were three other titles that Tom thought might have been transferred. With his excellent memory, it was easy enough to record exactly what they had been. They had all been awarded for outcomes that were non-body related, so he was pretty sure they counted as soul-based for this purpose. Evolution Master: Unique Skill Creator: Sage of Fate (Earth): All three titles were going to be a huge bonus for him. Evolution Master would effectively allow him to make twice as many evolutions as he would otherwise be able to. Instead of taking one-tier zero spell to tier four, he could promote two in the same amount of time. In practice, the benefit was significantly higher than that, because to evolve something you usually had to pass three tests: comprehending knowledge thresholds, determining unique applications. and number of times used. For the first two of those tests, getting them to fifty percent would take a lot less than half the effort required to reach a hundred percent. If you needed ten unique applications of the abilities, then thinking of all of the first five was probably easier than just coming up with the tenth when you had already found nine. The other two titles would also help. His progress was not a hundred percent fate locked, but a substantial amount of what he was going to achieve would be aided by the attribute. Having it work ten percent stronger would make a difference. As for the Unique Skill Creator title, it would mean that as he progressed his skills up the tiers, they would gain useful additional abilities. Those sideways evolutions, as he had discovered with Black Dodge, would each increase the power of the ability by a significant percentage. Together, it was a massive head start over everyone else. He kind of wished he had other titles, but the six months he had lived in his second life had not been enough to build up a huge backlog of them. ¡°You can do this.¡± He told himself. ¡°You can make a difference.¡± And, knowing that those titles existed, and he almost certainly had them, made him feel a lot more confident about his chances. He would become powerful, and he would kill the dragon, and this time permanently, Tom promised himself fiercely. He would do it. But for now, he had to make the most use of his isolation time, and that meant gathering knowledge. He flipped back to the contents and then opened the book to the chapter titled. Determining your skills, spells, traits and titles. Chapter 10.1 – Assassination History The desire to determine the details of status gripped Tom, and this book had the answers. He urgently flipped to the chapter that would tell him what he sought, and then forced himself to slow down. He breathed deeply and stared at the mirror. A chubby four-year-old was reflected in the silvered surface. The eyes were unflinching, but the cheeks looked like they were being puffed out. A weak body, restricted by the system from earning a single point of experience - which would have been his most valuable currency for improving himself. What could the person looking back at him actually do? This urgency was beyond ridiculous. Every moment he still had was to be made to count, but his motto had to be smarter rather than faster . Eleven years, that¡¯s what he had. Time enough to build a stable base; one, that, when he came of age and piled on the experience, could be tempered into a spear that could kill a dragon. That was what he was about. No doubts, no being merely good. He would grow and beat the best. When one looked at those soft unassuming features, the ambitions felt impossible, but Tom knew otherwise. Existentia was a harsh world, but it was also one that gave you opportunities if you were smart enough to seize them. With his mind centred, he read the book in front of him and noted the critical sentences. Extracting information for your status sheet before you turn ten is difficult. There are methods in place to help, but please be aware that they are imprecise and flawed. Every Isolation Room contains a ¡®Status Reveal Ritual Interface¡¯ to support discovery. Discovering unknown areas of your status is best achieved immediately after receiving a notification. DO NOT DELAY. The longer you are away from the incident the less chance you would have of being able to discover the specific change. The ¡®Status Reveal Ritual¡¯ requires recent proximity or exact knowledge, and, if either condition is met, will display the component of your status sheet you are after. In practice, this means any ability or title query more than four days after receiving it will be undiscoverable. The discovery period for lower-tiered abilities can be as short as one day. Actively using a skill usually counts as recent proximity, but this is not always the case, particularly for tier 0 to 2 abilities. Titles or Skills that are downgraded from your first Existentia life are very rarely discoverable before you turn ten. Tom read through the details and frowned at those implications. It was basically saying that titles and skills that hadn¡¯t changed would be easy for him to display once more, but if any of them had altered their name or been reduced in power, the change would leave them undiscoverable. It was also not something he could change, so he put the issue out of his mind. If he had minor titles or skills floating around, then they would be a pleasant surprise when he got access to his system room. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. With an understanding of what was on offer, he jumped to his feet and hurried over to the dedicated alcove that contained the ritual process. It had a recharge time of slightly under an hour, so, if he didn¡¯t want the next person in the room to know he had used it, then today he would only get one try at this. However, every other future session he would be able to use it twice. There was no point in digging into his past status, as this might be his only opportunity to determine the exact specifics of the healing spell he had just acquired. Decision made, he released five points of fate to reduce the chance of making a mistake, and then followed the steps displayed on the diagram pinned above the ritual. They basically consisted of activate, wait while mentally focusing on what you wanted, then select the type of information you need displayed. In this particular case, he had to choose spell information. Then, if he was successful, the screen would update, and that was exactly what it did now. Spell: Heal Minor Scratches (Tier 0) This spell allows the healing of surface level wounds with poor efficiency. The description was suspiciously short, but the implications of what he had created were clear. Not only was it tier-zero - it had a trash rating within that designation. Most of the decent tier-zero spells Tom had researched during the tutorial. He had never seen this one before. That was how bad it was. He wondered what it would cost in the experience shop. Fifty? A hundred? The fact it was less than a single ration bar said heaps about its quality. Tom shrugged. He guessed that, given his plan, it really didn¡¯t matter. He was always going to have to evolve the spell multiple times, and this just meant he would need to evolve it within the tier before increasing its grading. What were a couple of extra steps when he had eleven years? The real question was, how bad was the spell? Now that he knew what it was supposed to do, he could do a more sensible test. With a frown, he went to grab a knife, climbing up the shelving to get one from high up so he didn¡¯t end up with a toy. He unsheathed it, then held it in one hand, impressed. There was a nice weight to it, and the edge shone in the artificial light of the isolation room. It was sharp. This knife was definitely not something a four-year-old should have been playing with. He glanced at the corner of the room and the white gem on a pedestal. Even with that powerful healing crystal being so close, this knife did not belong in the hands of a child. Then again, children didn¡¯t deserve to grow up in a situation as violent as what they were facing. They needed to learn proper fighting skills, and he guessed that cutting themselves was a risk this society had to let them face. Tom, however, was not that young, so he positioned the tip over the same spot he had been doing during all of his testing. Then he pressed down. Instantly, the skin parted, and the blade disappeared into the flesh. Dark-red liquid swelled up on either side of the embedded weapon. Tom left it in. When he eventually pulled it out, it would gush blood, but that was fine with Tom. When the time was up, a powerful cleaning spell would activate and remove any evidence of any spilled blood. He left the knife in, then channelled his mana into the system-constructed spell form. When it was ready and poised just above the wound, he yanked out the blade. The blood came, but it was more of a trickle than the flood that he had been expecting. That made sense, because he had deliberately cut in an area that he knew contained no major arteries or veins. Ignoring the blood, he let the spell activate, and there was an itching sensation as it went to work. In under two seconds, it was done. A splash of water followed by a rubbing with the hand towel left his arm clean. The spell had closed the wound, as advertised. On the surface, it was a successful heal, but from the description Tom knew otherwise. Experimentally, he poked the faint pink line that had been left. The whole area ached in response. Chapter 10.2 – Assassination History His frown deepened as he assessed the level of pain. Bruises, even deep ones didn¡¯t feel like that. The cut might be closed, and the injury at least visually might have appeared healed, but it was not. Under the layer of mended skin, the injury persisted. ¡°Damn,¡± he whispered to himself. The spell was as terrible as he had feared. It was false, and its flaws represented an active danger. It only healed superficially. Its magic worked exclusively to close surface cuts. The deeper areas of the injury remained untouched, which was dangerous. Given what he knew was happening, he was not surprised to observe that a nasty bruise was forming almost as he watched. Trash. Total trash, he thought in annoyance. He had known the instant he had read the description that it was going to be so, but it was annoying to have confirmed it so completely. Unless it was used very selectively, it was more detrimental than helpful. Ignoring the internal injuries while healing the skin was more dangerous than leaving an open wound and allowing the body¡¯s natural processes to fix it. But I got it after a week of practice, he reminded himself. The first version was only ever the start, and he had always been planning to evolve it into something better, anyway. So, its issues really weren¡¯t a problem. He would, as a matter of course, need to be selective whenever he used it. If he suffered a graze, it would be perfect¡­ then he chuckled to himself. ¡°For minor scrapes it¡¯s wonderful,¡± he told the room. ¡°But for self-inflicted stab wounds it was a no go. That¡¯s a skill that belongs as the first step in the path to slaying a dragon¡± He laughed harder and then reconsidered the way his mind had jumped to the negative. This way might actually be better because of his title Unique Skill Creator. Thanks to it, by the time he finished it was possible his healing spell would have extra sideway evolutions which would make it stronger. The extra steps he needed to take to make it better would give that title more chances to activate. Annoyed and satisfied at the same time, Tom went back to the book and checked his to-do list. He wanted to use the remaining hour and a half to do some research and answer some of the questions he had. The first item researched was physical training. He had only practiced with the spear for ten minutes, but he had to admit it had felt good to have a weapon again. The question was whether doing so was problematic. He ended up cross-referencing multiple books before he was satisfied with the accuracy of the answer, which was basically a firm yes - he could train to his heart¡¯s content. Physics, biology, all those things he had taken for granted on Earth did not necessarily flow as linearly in Existentia. How the young of species developed reflected one of these quirks. The gist of it was that it was near-impossible for a child to create muscle mass or calluses through training. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Basically, the enhanced healing everyone got in Existentia was responsible for it. In the absence of any system, which is what children got, the healing restored you to your prior state. On earth, physical activity made a difference. Where your skin was continually worn away, callouses would form to reinforce the area. When you lifted weights and damaged muscle fibres, extra ones would grow. Basically, biology allowed the human body to adapt to the conditions thrown at it. In Existentia, that feedback of stimulus causing adaptation didn¡¯t work. Instead, when you became an adult, the system took over that role. That was how he had gained natural points of vitality and strength in his last life - even if the natural part of that designation couldn¡¯t have been further from the truth. It was not all doom and gloom - his attributes would increase as he aged; however, it was determined by diet and genetics, not activity. There was no known way to force attribute gain, outside of elixirs, while the system considered you a child. Training was back on. That made Tom smile, even though he knew it wouldn¡¯t alter his body like it would have done on Earth. It meant he could secretly develop spear abilities, which was a part of his long-term build. Next, he checked on the history of reincarnated kids and their subsequent assassination, because he figured it was something he had to know. In moments, he was engrossed in the text. It was fascinating, especially since it was about real people with consequences driving societal adaptations, which even fifty years after it all started, were impacting him personally. The first reincarnated children had been identified within six earth years of the competition starting. Tom absorbed that information with surprise. That was early. Without the ritual to force the issue, the emergence of past memories were supposed to happen when they were five or six years old. Add on nine months lag for pregnancy¡­ It meant the child would have to have been conceived in the first year and possibly even earlier. Potentially only months after arriving in Existentia. That¡­ His brain struggled to understand that. The biology urges after over a decade of isolation made sense. He had also indulged, but birth control was so easy. He couldn¡¯t imagine a child being a mistake. Unlike the group he had started with, other groups had obviously decided that the best way to earn ranking points were to have children and build up a larger population. Tom could understand that reasoning. If you could double or triple your numbers every generation then a starting group of a hundred like his could have ended up having nearly a thousand people by now. Having ranking points be generated by ten times the number of people could only be a good thing, so he could definitely see why a group could have made that decision. That is, if most of those born survived. In practice, he knew from his own experiences that Existentia was too harsh a mistress to allow that. A lot of men and women, he realised, would have been reincarnated into a child as part of a nomadic tribe. He shuddered, thinking of the difference between the challenges that they must have faced versus the situation he was in, with his dedicated training rooms complete with encyclopedias¡¯ worth of knowledge. Tom tore himself away from his own thoughts and continued his research. Chapter 10.3 – Assassination History In those early days, there had been so little coordination between the disparate groups of humans that the risk of assassins finding the humans had been low. It still occurred, but as the years passed, humanity had migrated into set areas where they could help each other as needed. That, and the beginning of established settlements, had ramped up the frequency of targeted strikes. Then the massacre of the woolanda had begun. Forty kids had been executed. He read the chronological events in growing horror. The moment he finished the section, Tom pushed the book aside and leapt to his feet. His mind was spinning at those words. The circumstances had been described, but it was the result that horrified him. To handle his emotions, he focused on actions and rearranged the spears to create a small tent. Even though the process was hampered by his uncoordinated body, it only took a couple of minutes to make. But that was with his adult mind driving the action. Tom was confident that anything that examined this room once he left would assume that he spent most of the two-hour session constructing it. Yet, as he worked, his mind thought about what he had learned. The assassin had been a native powerhouse with a rank of a hundred and ten. That, apparently was more than twice as much as any human in the camp. Combined with his class skills, fighting him was impossible, because what could you conceivably do against someone who was twice as strong, twice as fast, and twice as durable as you? They couldn¡¯t fight something that powerful; besides, initially it didn¡¯t reveal why it was there. Then it killed the first child, and the five champions of the group had fought back. Five against one, they had thought they had a chance but the benefit of the higher-levelled skills and spells at the native¡¯s disposal made all the difference. Skills grown for centuries were far more potent than ones worked on for only decades, and even if the humans had higher-tiered abilities, they couldn¡¯t cross the attribute and experience gap. The champions had been slaughtered. The native had then gathered up all the children and demanded the reincarnated person reveal themselves. It had promised to spare everyone else once the reincarnated ones were all killed. There had been no volunteers. Then It started killing. It executed one child, re-cast the spell and then kept going. Another wave of parents had launched a counterattack when they saw their loved ones dying. This time more than forty adults participated, but the attribute gap between them and the native was even larger than what the champions had faced. They all died, and the assassin had ignored the survivors and returned to his task. It killed children one by one as it searched for what it was after. In the end, over a third of the tribe and all but two children had been slaughtered. It was a mystery to the author as to why the reincarnated ones did not reveal themselves earlier. Tom clenched his fists as he remembered that. Such cowardice, to refuse to volunteer - and it had achieved nothing! The tent was finished, and he looked back at the book. How could someone reincarnated to a new life allow forty kids to die pointlessly once they knew resistance was futile? It made his blood boil. If Tom had been there, he would have volunteered after the five champions died, the moment it was obvious that there was no point in hiding. He would have ended things. The book remained where he had left it, and, reluctantly Tom went over there to finish the history lesson. This was different than earth history and because of his experience it felt far more real. He could envisage himself in these situations, but there was no point putting his head in the sand and remaining unnecessarily ignorant. He picked it up and continued his research. A month later, the same alien had struck another group of nomads. The same process repeated, but the story had been spread on the auction house, and the adults in this group were weaker. They stood and watched and, once more, the reincarnated ones refused to reveal themselves. This time, only half of the children were slaughtered. Two months after that, it located a much larger encampment. This settlement had almost a hundred fifty children. The adults were stronger and ready for it, but it came with ten of its companions. The newcomers had an average ranking of over ninety and it was clear that even if every adult sacrificed their lives, it would be pointless as they would all die. They prepared to fight anyway. Before they did, four children led by a twelve-year-old called Michael had walked up and surrendered. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. After they were killed, the assassins cast their spell and left. Tears were running down Tom¡¯s face. He couldn¡¯t keep reading. He didn¡¯t know if it was the Michael that he had been friends with. But if Michael had been there, that was exactly what he would have done. Whoever it had been Tom sympathised. It was painful to imagine what must have been going through their heads. These were heroes who had been given another chance to make a difference, and for that Michael, after seven years of effort, while still being too young to have achieved anything of note, they had been forced to put their head on the chopping block. All because an unstoppable force, a native far beyond their power had come hunting. ¡°How were the other GODs allowed to get away with this?¡± he asked the air and wiped his cheeks. ¡°How?¡± He shouted. There was, of course, no answer. It was the same bullshit that had occurred with the resurrection of the dragon. He and the others had killed her fair and square, and then the game board had been flipped on them. He had always known that Existentia didn¡¯t pretend to be fair, but that was too much. An impossible-to-kill dragon being defeated by Clare¡¯s brilliance, and then that getting stolen from them. Impossible-to-defeat assassins butchering reincarnated kids with parents forced to give them up or be killed themselves. What was next? How would they cheat next? His eyes dropped back to the book. He was sure this story had an ending. It probably wouldn¡¯t be pretty, but the way children were centralised now meant that the problem that had hit Michael¡¯s settlement had to have been dealt with. Over the eight hours following the deaths of those four kids, human ranking points exploded. More points were gained in that brief period than humanity had compiled over the previous twenty years. When the tally stopped going up, humans¡¯ total had increased by a hundred and ten percent. Tom froze as he read that passage. Somehow, he knew to the core of his being that this was the GOD¡¯s response to rule breaking. How did he know? He wasn¡¯t sure, but he was certain, and it must have been related to his missing memories. It didn¡¯t make any sense otherwise. Why would he know anything about GODs? From the memories he possessed, he had been very successful in many things, but ultimately he had just been a warrior, a pawn, and others had beaten the dragon. There were no interactions with GODs anywhere apart from witnessing the aftermath of Sven¡¯s blasphemy. It was a mystery that he couldn¡¯t solve, so he lowered his eyes and kept reading. Over a month passed until an explanation of the surge of ranking points was made available by one of DEUS¡¯ priests. The woolanda, a known terror species, had been convicted of knowingly interfering with a competition species after receiving a formal warning. The account the priest gave did not make it clear whether it was DEUS directly or a champion of hers, but over that eight hours the woolanda as a species was eliminated. As compensation for the lost lives of their children, humans had been credited with ten percent of the ranking points associated with the elimination of a native sapient species. The priest cautioned that the reincarnated ones were still not safe, but the other two species hunting them would ensure that they would no longer kill innocent children. This forced restraint, combined with the new orphanage protocols and the town prayers, has greatly reduced the number of assassinations that have occurred. In the thirty-five years since the extermination of the woolanda, it is believed that only five reincarnated children have been killed before reaching maturity. In all cases, their status as being reincarnated ones was widely known amongst the town population. Tom put the book down and wiped the tears from his eyes. He did not know whether the reward humanity had got for the hundreds of dead children was worth it or not, but at least it was something. An entire species destroyed for interfering with the competition. Tom had known the GODS took it seriously, but that was heavy stuff. Sitting on the ground, his thoughts roaring in his head, he shut his eyes and grimaced. He could guess that, overall, this was great news and he should be celebrating it. However, he didn¡¯t feel that way. His safety had been purchased by the death of innocents. He wondered if the Michael mentioned in the chapter was the man he had known. Tom swallowed heavily and forced himself not to think too hard on it. Ultimately, he really didn¡¯t want to know. To distract himself, he glanced at the timer. It showed that there was less than fifteen minutes left before the doors would open. He was feeling fidgety, so, to calm himself, he pulled out his preferred spear and started training. Now that he knew that doing so wouldn¡¯t risk exposing him, he tried to go faster. It was still a struggle to force his body to move in the right ways, but he needed to build repetitions to get the Spear skill anyway, so he went through the effort. It wouldn¡¯t become his focus until he developed some magic, but training now would help his efforts later. As he fought, he once more used his new spell to heal the cut, trying to force it to extend its effects deeper. He could see that the attempt failed, and the bruise remained as dark as it had been earlier and when he poked the area, it hurt - more than a bruise of that size was supposed to. With a sigh, he replaced the spear in the tent and went to the healing crystal in the corner. Its magic fixed the cut, bruise, sore muscles all of it. If someone or something checked the room after this, they would discover nothing. Instead, they would assume he had spent the time constructing a useless fort and building book towers¡­ an action Little Ta had done many times before. Tom nodded to himself. This was good. He eyed the shelves of reference books. This was very, very good. He was going to enjoy the forced isolation times. Chapter 11.1 – Competition Positions Tom exited the isolation room with what he hoped was a bored expression. He wasn¡¯t sure how convincing it was, even with his efforts to slow himself down ¨C inside, he was filled with energy. It was awesome. The isolation room had been so much better than he had been imagining. It had been created for people like him. The answers to most of the pressing questions he had been asking had been readily available. They had predicted what he wanted to know and made sure the books with the knowledge were identifiable. One session had transformed his view of his entire situation. He was both significantly safer and better placed to have explosive growth than he had initially thought. Then he remembered what he had read, and recalling how humanity had earnt these protections in the first place destroyed his excitement. His emotions, Tom acknowledged, were all over the place. Fear of the future, dread of failure, anticipation of his impending power¡­ they were yo-yoing everywhere. The area outside the isolation room was empty until Bir¡¯s doors opened. A moment later, so did Pa¡¯s. Tom frowned. Bir looked like how he felt, and her eyes were red. She had tried to wipe away some tears, but had failed to hide the evidence. His heart broke. That was the other cost of the protection that he was receiving. Little Ta had been resilient, but occasionally the isolation had gotten to him. Bir and others like her suffered at least once a week. Pa had been closer to Bir, and his happy face, too, had fallen when he spotted her. He immediately ran over and hugged her. No words were exchanged; and, truth be told, there was no need for them. Their session had taken them past dinner time, and, as they trudged toward the gymnasium, Tom let himself interact with the others on autopilot, his conscious thoughts directed internally. He collected his food and started eating without registering the actions. The cost of the isolation rooms was higher than he had realised. How many other innocent children were like Bir? He frowned. He guessed it didn¡¯t matter - the price had already been paid. It was up to him to make the various sacrifices count, and that was exactly what he was going to do. New questions swirled inside him. How should he make the most of these resources? If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. What was the best way to fix his healing? Was there an opportunity to cut himself under the table? The extra sharp meat knife that he had grabbed with dinner was clutched in his hands on his lap, ready to be used. Surreptitiously, Tom cased the room. None of the adults were looking at him, because they were still deliberately ignoring everyone who had gone through the ritual and were instead focused exclusively on the older children. At different tables too, he realised. He hadn¡¯t even noticed it, but the four-year-olds had all been funnelled onto a table near the bubble machine. A machine that, as usual, during the evening meal had its active effects switched off. The coloured bubbles did nothing but pop, and, to his surprise create an effective smoke screen. They were materially hidden from the sight of the grownups, and then, as a secondary protection, all the adults and the near adult were pointedly not glancing in their direction. He licked his lips. If he slipped the hand clutching the knife under his pants¡­ then a bit of pressure. ¡°Ta, you like.¡± Bir gestured at a pink vegetable on the side of his plate. He had tasted it and found it to be very similar to a carrot, but channelling his younger self had rejected it. He made a face and stuck out his tongue to non-verbally show how disgusting it was. The girl promptly speared it with a fork and ate it happily. Carefully, Tom pulled the hand holding the knife back above the table. The adults might not be able to see him, but he was not protected from the other kids in the same way, and the risk wasn¡¯t worth taking. If he was going to cut himself, it had to be done under his clothes. The bleeding had to be low enough that it wouldn¡¯t soak through the fabric of his top, and it had to be unnoticed by everyone. There were too many ways for the attempt to go wrong, and it wasn¡¯t worthwhile to take the risk. An hour of distracted training of a healing spell he might end up having to discard was not that valuable a prize. The question about the pink carrots had pulled him out of his self-reflection at least. Present in the moment, he turned his attention to the chocolate mousse dessert, which was the one good part of his dinner selection. Snotty Ma on the table behind them was complaining about her elixir being spilled. Bir next to him was giggling a little at the expressed outrage, but, thankfully, the other girl didn¡¯t notice. They escaped dinner without any drama, and the rest of the evening continued in the same vein, but by the time he settled down to sleep he had made some decisions. For the next week, he would take stock of the reference materials available in the isolation room, and once that was done, he would dedicate the full two hours to reacquiring his spear skills. Outside of the isolation room, his focus would be on building his healing magic up with a two-pronged strategy. First, he would try to extend the range and ability of his existing spell to facilitate its evolving, and secondly, he would use a free-form magic to directly create a better version of the spell. He figured he would split both his fate and his available time between those two tasks. He woke in the morning and immediately snuggled deeper into the covers. It was cold outside the blankets, and his memories from Little Ta told him that was always the case. There was a temptation to nap longer in the cozy warmth, but he assessed himself and decided that extra rest would be a luxury rather than a need. While keeping his movements slow and trying to avoid moving the blankets unduly, he grabbed his toy knife and pulled his top up to expose his belly and chest. He shoved the mass of material under his chin and pinned it to prevent it from rolling back down. Then, without fuss or hesitation, he cut himself. Chapter 11.2 – Competition Positions The knife was bad, and it stung more than such a small slice should have. He ignored his body¡¯s reactions. Fighting for his life almost every day for over forty years and suffering injury after injury as a result meant he had built up an impressive pain tolerance. He could have (and had) fought through shattered bones and minor issues like disembowelment when the situation demanded it. Magic could heal those types of injuries easily enough, but you still needed to kill the monster attacking you before there was time to address anything that wasn¡¯t a, ¡®I¡¯m going to die in the next half a second¡¯ issue. These cuts are nothing, he reminded himself. They were barely worth paying attention to, but he still felt each one. They all hurt, and felt like being pinched by someone not holding back and using their nails at the same time. The main culprit was the knife. He wished he had easy access to something other than a toy, but he also understood why that particular restriction was put in place. Children, especially ones as young as the ones in this dorm, could be stupid, and you really didn¡¯t want them playing with combat knives, and especially not the type he was wishing for. Extra sharp enchanted edges were definitely a no-go. That could be¡­ Tom pulled his imagination up. That was not an outcome he wanted to think about. Slice after slice, he kept going. The injuries he inflicted now would have to last him all the way to the afternoon, if he was to maximise his practice time. There would be no opportunities intraday to reapply the injuries, and so he had to make sufficient cuts that eight hours of healing wouldn¡¯t remove them completely. With his mana regenerating fully every six minutes, that was over eighty cuts to heal. The tip went in and he pulled sideways. Then, between every cut, he tested the slice he had made twenty cuts earlier to ensure it wasn¡¯t too deep. He figured any bleeding caused would have clotted by then. Because it was pitch black under the covers, he checked by running his finger over the cut and then sucking it. Wet blood would get transferred to his finger and dry one wouldn¡¯t. When he was checking the tenth time, a copper taste filled his mouth, and, with a frown, he applied his healing. He didn¡¯t want his clothes to show blood stains when he left his bed. Twenty minutes after he had woken, he was finished and rolled out of his alcove with the visible signs of the self-mutilation covered by his top. In the soft lighting of the dorm, he was relieved to see that his covers were spotless. There were no revealing red smears anywhere; not that it mattered. Given what he had learned, he was certain there would be a security process in place to protect him. Probably something like a room wide-channelled clean to make sure any activities like his own weren¡¯t noticed by anything sapient. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. As he climbed down from his alcove, his chest and stomach burned like someone had thrown a cup of hot water over them. With an application of willpower, he kept his expression perfectly smooth, not betraying any indication of the agony every slight movement was causing. It was pretty funny when he thought about it. The injuries he had inflicted were the definition of minor, and, while each cut contributed little by itself, a hundred in proximity was more painful than lots of more serious injuries. Examples of the latter ones included the dislocated knee which had hardly troubled him even when running through the trees from a pack of monsters that resembled raptors out of Jurassic Park. The matters were made worse by the fact that whenever he moved, the crusty scabs covering the cut broke and triggered the nerve endings. Thankfully, there was no one out of bed and active in the room, but he didn¡¯t lower his guard. He couldn¡¯t know how many people were watching from the warmth of their personal alcoves. Tom forced his body to move normally rather than giving into the instinct to hunch over to reduce the effect of his clothes rubbing against his wounds. As usual, he did his business, then went through the cleaning loop that seemed to activate for longer than usual ¨C presumably, it needed more time to remove all the crusted blood that had leaked. The scabs still required to hold the sides of the scratches together would be left untouched. Magic was amazing like that. Then, with his back forced straight, he faced the day and acted normally - except for secretly applying his heal every six minutes. Half an hour before he was to enter the isolation room, the last of the cuts were fixed and after he went through a cleaning loop it already felt like a distant memory - but one Tom knew he would be repeating every day going forward. An automaton led them to the isolation rooms and, without fuss, Tom went straight into his assigned one. The moment there was a ding to confirm his privacy, he tore off his top and examined himself in the mirror. His chest looked like a normal child¡¯s, except for a couple of faint lines where the cuts had not fully healed. The vast majority of the scratches were completely gone. For such a crappy spell, it had done surprisingly well. Curiously, he checked on its progress. Spell: Heal Minor Scratches (Tier 0) ¨C Level 3 This spell allows the healing of surface level wounds with poor efficiency. The level of the spell had jumped up, but given how many times he had cast it, that improvement was not that much of a surprise. Unless it got some incredible threshold bonuses, it was always going to be crappy, but that wasn¡¯t why he was doing it. He was certain that one of the hidden criteria for an evolution was the number of uses. With a shrug, he seized his slightly too long spear and threw himself into training until sweat was dripping off him. A quarter of an hour later, feeling physically unable to continue, he grabbed a folder he had noticed from the right of the door. It had the words ¡®Current Events¡¯ upon its cover. Chapter 11.3 – Competition Positions It was going to have some of the answers that he was after. He flipped through it, searching for any interesting insights. There were a couple of summaries that immediately caught his attention. The first was ¡®Current and Forecast Ranking Points.¡¯ Dragons: Current Rank 1 with accumulated points of 310 million and year on year accumulation of 7 million. Additional notes: Peaked at 433 million. Insects: Current Rank 2 with accumulated points of 302 million and year on year accumulation of 9 million. Additional notes: Peaked at 420 million. Giants: Current Rank 3 with accumulated points of 278 million and year on year accumulation of 4 million. Additional notes: Benefited from an unexplained 20 and 30 million jump in earth years 28 and 34. Tom¡¯s eyes widened in horror as he saw the next couple of lines. ¡°Fuck, no,¡± he swore as anger exploded through him. ¡°No, this isn¡¯t right! They said we were in touch. That¡¯s not being in touch! We¡¯re losing. This is a fucking disaster.¡± He stared at the position of the humans. Wador: Current Rank 4 with accumulated points of 276 million and year on year accumulation of 4 million. Humans: Current Rank 5 with accumulated points of 262 million and year on year accumulation of 2.5 million. Additional notes: One off gain of 100 million from GOD¡¯s action. Inventors: Current Rank 6 with accumulated points of 201 million and year on year accumulation of 5 million. Additional notes: Advances by rapid stops and starts every couple of decades. Over due for an influx of points. Chosen: Current Rank 7 with accumulated points of 42 million and year on year accumulation of < 1 million. In horror, he read and reread what was displayed, but if anything it reinforced his initial reaction. Humans were losing, and not by a small amount. They were getting thrashed. Fourth was a personal disaster for most people, but any lower than that was an extinction level result¡­ and that¡¯s where they were positioned. When he had overheard Pete and Delilah, he had interpreted their words positively, and if he was honest, the headline numbers had supported some of their optimism. But how could anyone with basic mathematics see this summary and think things were going to be okay was a mystery. Yes, humans had two hundred and sixty-two million points and were only sixteen million behind the third-placed giants. A gap like that was possible to close, but that wasn¡¯t the problem. The issue was that year on year humans were earning only two-thirds of what the two species directly above them were. The points between them and those ahead were only going to widen. His need to not only be good but to strive to be the best couldn¡¯t be clearer. Over the next ten years, the gap between them and third place was going to double and grow to over thirty million. To close it, he was going to have to do something huge. His gamble with the trolls was supposed to have been such an attempt, but while given the extra fate he had, it must have partially worked, it clearly wasn¡¯t enough. On the next page, there were additional summary tables that attempted to explain the consequences for the non-reincarnated of what not getting lower in the rankings meant. He and anyone like him, of course, already knew. Eight billion humans were currently in stasis. It was a lot of people. They had gone through the same tutorial he had, but had not done as well, because he had made it into the competition, and they hadn¡¯t. Tom didn¡¯t blame them. Most modern people would naturally struggle to fight monsters and that is what Existentia had plenty of, and when the competition ended, they were coming here. The only question was the advantages they would be able to bring with them, and that depended on how the one million champions of humanity performed. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. And the unfortunate fact was that the different outcomes were not the difference between a ford and a BMW, or between growing up in third-world slums or first-world luxury. A lack of advantages in Existentia was basically a sentence to be torn apart by a monster. Competition Success was literally the difference between life and death. The book he was reading did not downplay the situation. It was very candid about what failure meant. It would be horrific, dreadful, and cause untold misery for humanity. The information was presented across multiple pages with different lenses to make sure it was easily understood. For example, if you won the competition, everyone from Earth would be gifted a hundred thousand experience, a tailored tier three skill, a random trait, an eligible class plus sixteen levels and the right to spend your contribution points how you wanted. Contrasting with that, if the champions failed, then everyone coming would get nothing to help them. They would just appear in a random location on Existentia, naked. Whether that was in a jungle, the middle of the ocean, or in a pit of flesh-devouring mice, didn¡¯t matter. With each person coming without levels or items, even a tiny bunny could kill them. Existentia was not Earth - everything was far more lethal, even in low-levelled areas. No advantages meant exactly that. You could die before you even registered where you had been dropped. And it wasn¡¯t just personal benefits that were up for grabs. If you ranked first, there were also societal level advantages you would be awarded. Humanity would be split up amongst eight massive kingdoms. All of those would have no threats either in or outside their borders, and an assurance that there would be no terror race within a year¡¯s travel. That was the guarantee of security part, but there would also be less important, but more tangible bonuses. These vast, sprawling kingdoms would come with pre-established buildings to support industry, master level workshops for the crafters and farming infrastructure complete with golems to feed the population for generations. Basically, the advantages were so substantial it would be almost impossible for any of those nations to fail. However, the lower you dropped, the less you would receive. By the time you were ranked only fourth, then humanity would be spread out into enclaves with only a million people each. That would be a single city-state kind of arrangement, and, if that group got bad luck, they could have a billion strong terror species camped next door. An outcome like that would cause the enslavement or death of the entire population within weeks. Then, if you got last, the result was even worse. Every single person would be dropped into Existentia by themselves. All of them scattered, and each so weak they¡¯d be unable to defend themselves, and if they somehow survived, then it was possible that they could explore their whole life and never meet another human. Getting last was a delayed death sentence. The position humanity achieved in the competition was critical, and the summary that best captured that urgency as far as he was concerned was the one dealing with survival chances. Position 7: 1 in 100,000 is estimated to survive ten years. No prospect of intergenerational survival. Position 6: 1 in 1,000 is estimated to survive ten years. No prospect of survival beyond 10 generations. Position 5: 1 in 100 is estimated to survive ten years. Fifty percent chance of one pocket of humans surviving beyond 10 generations. Position 4: 25 in 100 is estimated to survive ten years. Survival beyond 10 generations guaranteed. Position 3: 65 in 100 is estimated to survive ten years. Intergenerational survival as natives highly likely. Position 2: 85 in 100 is estimated to survive ten years. Intergenerational survival as natives guaranteed. Position 1: 99 in 100 is estimated to survive ten years. Intergenerational survival as natives guaranteed. Finishing in the last three positions effectively guaranteed humanity¡¯s extinction, and, while ending up fourth would prevent such an outcome, it would still result in three-quarters of the population dying within ten years. That was six billion people! Even third wasn¡¯t that great, but at least humans wouldn¡¯t go extinct if they ranked that high. That was why their current performance was such a kick in the gut. Unless their trajectory changed, they were going to end up fifth and possibly sixth. Both outcomes were a disaster. Fifth place meant ninety out of a hundred people dying within ten years and only a fifty percent likelihood of any human living beyond ten generations. Tom couldn¡¯t bring himself to consider what getting sixth would mean, and, if one read between the lines, one could see the inventors had a good chance of passing them. If the arrangements for him being reincarnated hadn¡¯t included the promise that he could make a difference and that he wouldn¡¯t be here if humanity was doomed, he might have given into despair at this update on how they were performing. As it was, he drew hope from the incomplete history of other people who had been reincarnated. Apparently, others had achieved amazing feats within thirty years - and that without the benefit of these isolation rooms and resources, not to mention the early fate that he had available to build his abilities. I will do better than them, Tom promised himself. He had to do better than them. The giants, wador, and even the insects and dragons might not know it, but the humans were coming, and Tom was going to be at the point of the spear when they did. Chapter 12.1 – Redirecting Fate Tom threw himself back into his spear forms. He had a future to create. With the weapon spinning around him, he focused on footwork and on rotating the shaft to block imaginary monsters striking at him from his blind spot. The shaft slipped from his small, sweaty hands. It crashed into his shins before spinning out of control, rolling and thumping into the wall. ¡°Damn it,¡± he cursed, while jumping up and down on one foot. Sweat was running down his face, and he tested his leg. It protested, but there was no structural damage, so he retrieved his weapon and kept going. He only allowed himself to stop once his breath started labouring so much that every attempt to suck in the life-saving air hurt. His shins and forearms were covered with bruises. He used a light weapon, but had spun it more than fast enough for slip-ups to have consequences. Without Skills to aid his spear work and with the added disadvantage of the unfamiliar body there had been lots of mistakes. While sucking in deep breaths, he forced himself to pick up the folder that contained current events. He flipped through to the next chapter he wanted to target, which was ¡®Demographics.¡¯ ¡°Fuck, that¡¯s bad,¡± he cursed in annoyance the moment he reached the page in question. Talking almost caused a coughing fit, but he managed to stabilise his air flow and forced deep breaths in and out. His eyes devoured the information. The numbers were terrible, and, unfortunately, they provided context to humanity¡¯s poor result on the ladder. Stagnation was the word that fitted the situation best. Collectively, something had gone badly wrong with humanity¡¯s progress. In his last life, in a little over six months, he had almost reached rank fifty. Yes, he had a lot of fortunate encounters, significant luck, and the first mover¡¯s advantages that had elevated him above his peers. If you stripped away all those bonuses, he might have expected others to take five years at the most to match what he had done. That would be more than ten times slower, and the trials and titles had not sped him up that much. For so many to have failed after fifty-five years to reach even that modest threshold was damning. There were an estimated a hundred and twenty thousand humans left in the competition, with the vast majority of them being from earth. Of that population, about ninety thousand were loosely associated with the human empire, which was the three towns and billions and possibly trillions of acres of wilderness that spread out on all sides of them. Two-thirds of that population were classed as adventurers and spent their time on exploring - and then exploiting - the unclaimed lands nearby. While it was presented as a single kingdom, it wasn¡¯t. Each of the towns were effectively isolated entities that were far enough apart that on earth they would be on different continents, and they all had established native kingdoms between them, so you couldn¡¯t even pretend they were linked. However, thanks to the auction house, the towns communicated freely with each other, so in a very real sense they worked together, sharing progress. The problem was not the existence of these safe havens - it was the general lack of advancement. Only five people had been confirmed to have reached the PowerHouse stage, which was a rank greater than a hundred. Four of which, he noted, were reincarnated. Tom mentally did the mathematics. During the trial, the worst of them were getting a hundred thousand experience per day, but to reach the PowerHouse rank you only needed to average twenty. It was a lot, Tom could acknowledge that, but was it reasonable that so few people had hit that threshold? Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Tom considered the daily grind that would be required for such an achievement. He had fought in the tutorial for forty-five years, and, until Pinkwing had died and he had started taking unreasonable chances, he had progressed faster than that and his rate of gathering experience hadn¡¯t trailed off. The tutorial was, of course, different from Existentia, as it had forced him to transition to progressively stronger zones as he grew. There had been no slow periods or slacking off allowed by the setup. To not grow in the tutorial was to be overwhelmed and die. That wouldn¡¯t happen here, as the impossibly large world they found themselves in was a natural system. Sometimes the enemies you faced would get stronger as you continued on, and other times you would cross the power peak and they would start to get weaker. Basically, once you got to high levels, it would become a struggle to find monsters capable of challenging you. There was also the issue of diminishing returns you got when you kept killing the same type of monster. It was logical that eventually the majority of creatures you fought would be ones you had defeated before, and so the experience you got per kill would be reduced. If you killed a lot of rank ten wolves, then when you fought the rank hundred versions, you would start hitting diminishing returns almost immediately. Even when one took those factors into account, it was disappointing that the most powerful human was only rank a hundred and thirteen. He had been expecting better. He skimmed down to the next fact, and that fact almost made him want to scream. Over fifty percent of people were below rank fifty. That was unacceptable. Tom shook his head in disgust as he read those numbers. It was extremely disappointing. It was no less than a collective failure, especially by those who hadn¡¯t passed rank forty. Tom wasn¡¯t even willing to give a pass to crafters. Everyone had a responsibility to improve and do better, and, in his mind, being below eighty after fifty years, let alone having only achieved half that rank, was negligence. He went back to physical training and monitored the ritual corner. It flashed twice to indicate that it was available again, and, thankful for the relief, he stopped the kata. All of his leg muscles were spasming, and he used the ritual terminal to check the skill he knew he still had. The moment he finished, the screen updated. Skill: Social Silence ¨C Tier 7 This is considered by some to be a powerful social skill, and by others to be the most insidious of curses. A spirit gifted with precognition keeps watch over you, and if you are about to say something that is likely to have a moderate negative social impact or worse, you will be stricken with two seconds of silence. The same attempt to convey an idea may only be blocked three times, unless the recipient mentally acknowledges the block as being in his favour in which case it will continue to occur. This skill has been applied as a curse and cannot be removed. This skill has zero levels and cannot be turned off. It was there, completely unchanged from his previous life. Tom appreciated still having it, despite its occasional downsides. While it could be annoying, it had proven its value when negotiating with the other competition species and trial natives. The way it functioned had allowed him to navigate social pitfalls that he would otherwise have never been able to see. For his current circumstances, it was also almost perfect. It would stop him from saying anything that would risk revealing that he had been reincarnated, because saying something that could get you killed was the ultimate negative social impact. Tom wanted to find out what happened with the trolls and confirm that the apparent racial trait upgrade had been caused by his plan and, after he had died, by his old team¡¯s continual efforts. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the ¡®Current Events¡¯ book about racial traits or bloodlines. Also, he hadn¡¯t noticed any titles that indicated data sets that contained the answers he was looking for while examining the bookshelf. It would be there. Given all the other materials supplied in the isolation rooms, the knowledge would be here somewhere. But it had clearly not been deemed important enough for a typical reincarnated one to be placed in an obvious spot. It was probably buried as a footnote in one of the larger random books but hunting that down was not a priority. Plus, it was not necessary knowledge for right here and now. It would be nice to have, and would satisfy his curiosity, but he wasn¡¯t going to waste hours searching for these details. Not when there were both the more readily available and possibly the more useful facts out there, ones that could actually change his approach in the obvious places. He focused his effort on understanding the society that the survivors had built. Chapter 12.2 – Redirecting Fate The town served as a central hub for all exploration within half a year¡¯s travel. If you discovered something important, you reported it to the hub, and those who needed to know about it would be informed. Tom tapped that paragraph thoughtfully. That meant that, theoretically, every trial within six months of the town should have been uncovered and recorded, including the details such as the type, the level range, and any quirks that it might possess. When he became an adult, he would set up a trip that would take him through all the trials and monster areas that can level him as fast as possible. This way, he would not have to search for trials, and that was another boost those early reincarnators wouldn¡¯t have had, despite their massive success. This was even more evidence that he could surpass their achievements and make a positive difference. Having that kind of data available made the failure of so many people to breach rank fifty even more troubling. There had to be an explanation there. When his two hours came to a finish, the healing crystal banished the aches and pains, and the clean spell removed all the sweat and the grime. He decided not to leave with cuts to heal, since he figured out that people entering and leaving the isolation rooms would be under the most scrutiny, and he wanted to look as normal as possible. Bir and Pa were waiting for him when he exited, and they went to get dinner together. As they were about to enter the gymnasium, a force picked Tom up and pushed him hard into the wall. Bir next to him squealed in shock as she likewise was shoved forcefully against the wood panelling. Pa, a little ahead of them, was spared. It took Tom a moment to understand what was happening, mainly due to the difficulties of rotating his head to give himself a better field of sight. However, when he did so, snotty Ma, sniffling as always, came into view with the magic ring on her finger glowing. She paused to grin at them: ¡°You look squished.¡± She said before marching sedately toward the dinner queue. ¡°You dropped your special potion.¡± Bir yelled after her. Internally, Tom flinched as snotty Ma spun to face them: ¡°Was that you? Was that your fate?¡± ¡°Nope, nope. You dropped it. I wasn¡¯t there. Your fault not mine.¡± She stuck out her tongue defiantly. The barrier holding them was weakening. Tom tried to push out from the wall with his arms to hasten its demise. ¡°That was mean. You made dad angry.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t do it. You dropped. You¡¯re clumsy.¡± Snotty glanced down at the ring on her hand and noticed the glow was lessening. Then, with an annoyed final glance, she hurried into the dining room to get into the line ahead of them. When she was about twenty metres away, the power of the shield holding them in place shattered around them and they could move as normal. It had not hurt them as it lacked the strength to do so, but getting trapped like that was definitely annoying. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I¡¯ll get her not-parents again.¡± Bir promised fiercely. ¡°I¡¯ll show her. Fancy pants, artefact, meany.¡± Tom managed not to massage the bridge of his nose in response. An escalation between them was not something he wanted to see. The loss of that powerful elixir annoyed him on a fundamental level. He glanced sideways at the glaring Bir. ¡°Rather than pranks,¡± he said carefully. ¡°Have you considered using fate to win competitions?¡± The girl tore her scowl away from Snotty and stared at him instead, her eyes suspicious: ¡°Is that why you beat me?¡± She asked. ¡°Is that why Ta is suddenly better at bubbles?¡± Tom felt a pit of worry in his stomach. He hadn¡¯t ever used his fate in any of their play, but he was suddenly worried that he was displaying too much competence. Was his adult mind boosting the performance of this body too much? He wondered how it would be best to play this. Social Silence was not giving him any guidance, but he guessed that wasn¡¯t unexpected. In his last life, it had never stopped him from putting his foot in his mouth when amongst his friends. With them, it let him do anything, and he speculated it was the same here. Its lack of activation informed him that there was probably nothing he could do to harm their relationship right now. ¡°I want to win.¡± He told her honestly, even though it was misleading. He would never use fate so trivially. ¡°I¡¯ll do it too.¡± Bir declared. Tom¡¯s senses picked up her fate immediately flooding out of her. The abruptness of the response shocked him, and he expected it to blast into Snotty and be negated by her protections, but instead it kept going and spread out through the food tables. It was his turn to look at the other girl suspiciously. He couldn¡¯t see the angle and what the fate was being directed to do. ¡°Hurry,¡± Bir insisted before she hooked his arm, grabbed Pa¡¯s hand and dragged both of them to stand in the opposite line to Snotty. A line which was significantly longer than the other. Pa¡¯s stomach rumbled. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the other one be better?¡± The one Bir had chosen had a lot more people in it because a large group of nine-year-olds had all decided to join this one to stay with their friends. ¡°Not going in Snotty¡¯s line. This ones better.¡± Tom looked at Pa helplessly and then saw the determined expression on his other friend¡¯s face. There was no way they would convince her to do otherwise, so he resigned himself to getting a later dinner. There was an abrupt crash as one of the automatons broke down in front of the other line. The brief release of magical energy was spectacular, but not particularly noteworthy, as one or two of them failed most days. They were all used to seeing it. Dimitri immediately came over to take charge, along with a number of automatons designed for that exact purpose. More magical flares occurred as the broken construct was turned off, with each of the various pools of magic drained away. Only once it was completely inert was it finally broken apart and removed from where it was blocking access. Their line moved forward and Snotty¡¯s one didn¡¯t. Mentally, Tom¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he couldn¡¯t help but glance at Bir. She looked smug. An idea of what that fate was doing occurred to him and he searched for where it would act next. Snotty¡¯s queue was still shorter, so he was certain there would be more general mischievousness in the play. Then a girl in their line had her plate slip out of her hand. She tried to re-catch it and somehow knocked it right over the food-laden table so the piled-up, sauce-filled, pasta, followed shortly after by the plate, landed on the other side. There was a splat, then a bang, and red droplets spread out everywhere on the ground with the remains of her meal in the centre. Snotty¡¯s line was prevented from moving again. More automatons came and milled around as they cleaned it up and, because of the way the plate had fallen, they were stopping Snotty¡¯s line from progressing. Furthermore, his queue was moving very quickly as the group of nine-year-olds had decided to collectively raid the pie stand. Six of them were scooping everything onto their plates while the other ten stood beside them, taking nothing. In a quarter of the time it should have taken them, they were off to their own tables. Surprised, Tom found himself free to serve himself, while Ma, because of the multiple delays, had four people in the queue in front of her. Bemused, he collected his food, and when they reached the kids¡¯ table, all but three places were occupied. They took them. Snotty Ma had to sit on the empty table by herself. Bir was happily grinning like a Cheshire cat. Chapter 13.1 – Human Racial Trait Tom ate his food mechanically while pondering the issue of malicious fate use. Bir was the centre of attention, chatting happily to the entire table about her success, bringing her usual extroverted self around other four-year-olds to the fore. Her pleasure at causing chaos was seeping into how funny she found everything to be. His eyes, unbidden, turned to Snotty¡­ Ma, he corrected himself forcefully. He had to stop thinking about her with that derogatory term. Her condition was probably some innocent variety of hay fever. It wasn¡¯t her fault, and it wasn¡¯t right to pick on her for it, and if they were truly as safe as the information in the isolation room implied, that was a change he could make. From now on, when engaging with her, he would refer to her by her name. Ma, the sound that many mums out there would have loved to have heard first in a world different to this one, was sitting by herself. She was on the second table and was still alone. The isolation room had spat them out half an hour after the start of dinner time, and half of their immediate cohort, the other four-year-olds, had already left when they got there. No new four-year-olds had come in since, so she ate alone, her head down, not making eye contact with anyone. Her movements were listless, and she was picking at her food rather than enjoying it. She was four, and he wanted to move and sit next to her, but forced himself to stay still. Yes, he was probably safe, but he wasn¡¯t going to take undue risks, and moving to join her would as likely backfire instead of help. If he did it, she would probably think it was just to mock her. It was sad, and he wondered about how things had gotten to this state. Her hay fever was part of it, but her not-parents were probably to blame. The ring, while given from a place of love, made her a social pariah. It was too powerful to have been handed to someone her age. If you were four and had the power it gifted, you were going to use it. Little Ta would have exploited it worse than Ma had done. Earlier, she had used her ring to push them aside in order to get ahead of them in the queue. In the grand scheme of things, it had been a pretty minor abuse of power, and according to his memories, it was not the first time. But Tom knew that, if Bir had the ring, she would have abused the functionality a lot more than Ma had. He sighed sadly. She had, he admitted, with the benefit of his adult memories, shown remarkable restraint. It had only ever been used to constrain, never to hurt, and while it couldn¡¯t hurt them directly, that didn¡¯t mean no malicious applications were possible. If she had struck when they were running or taking the opportunity to push them off a raised platform, the outcomes would have been more serious. But she hadn¡¯t. She had never tried to hurt them, and she wasn¡¯t ever verbally cruel. In fact, she was restrained on most occasions, and he couldn¡¯t remember her having ambushed them with water balloons, thrown food at them, or locked them in a room - which were all actions Little Ta had done to her. And the ring would have made it easy for her to succeed at all of them. Bir tapped him on the shoulder having noticed where he was staring. ¡°I¡¯m going to win dinner.¡± She grinned. ¡°And I¡¯m never going to lose bubbles.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll beat you,¡± he answered back half-heartedly while internally wondering at the type of monster that he had unleashed. She was currently a very happy bubble monster, but Tom could tell that if she had her way, they were all going to suffer various mishaps when they next played anything competitive. Realistically, it wouldn¡¯t end up at all like that, but she would start winning more. Forty points of fate a day being directed proactively to help with everyday life meant she would be getting an awful lot of good fortune. Hopefully, with minimal prompting from him, the other kids would notice her success and grow to counter her. As for Bir - he was sure that, when she saw the older children developing amazing powers, like the girl with the levitating fork, she would realise how to direct her fate to achieve a similar outcome. It was only a small step from what she was already doing. If he was lucky, this would be the start of his cohort exploding in capability. Given the size of the challenge that humanity was facing, if he could help make the entire generation stronger, that could only help. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. After dinner, Bir wanted to play bubbles. Her dreams of greatness were not realised, since she was only using the small amount of fate that had regenerated since the start of dinner. She was also not going against the strangely fateless adults, and the tiny amount she could direct was not enough to challenge the defensive fate of the other children. That didn¡¯t stop it from working, but it did so by only affecting Bir almost exclusively. For example, bubbles changed colour from negative into beneficial just before they reached her. Another time, when she was running instead of stopping, she slipped and ended up tagging someone she hadn¡¯t been targeting. Then she fell over once more, and in a fluke occurrence landed on a floating bubble that let her escape Tom, who was chasing her. Each of the events was a minor thing, and, if Tom hadn¡¯t been watching for them, he wouldn¡¯t have realised they represented abnormal luck. But while individually they were insignificant, the advantages added up. She was the last tagged in four out of their six competitions, and, when she was the dragon, she hunted everyone down in record time. Observing her clever and semi-regular use of fate made the entire thing fun for Tom. The lights flashed warningly, and they retreated to sleep. When he woke up, the first thing he did was grab the toy knife. He gripped it hard while remembering how painful the cuts had been for the entire morning. Every time he had moved, it had been like being lashed by a multiple-tailed whip. The memories didn¡¯t stop him. Once more, he started to cut himself systemically. Like the previous day, he tried to move like normal. It was a continual battle to stop himself from hunching over to relieve the pain from his protesting chest, but he kept his back straight and smiled every time it was required from him. Finally, he got to the isolation room and used the identification ritual immediately. As expected, the screen updated to the title description. Title: Complex Conspiracy Discoverer: Reward: Previous Reward is no longer applicable. Reward transfigured into DEUS Chosen ¨C tier 0, which grants a single question once every thirty-two days and will be made available when you gain access to your system room. He paused while reading the change to the reward. He had been certain that he would keep the title, but he was unsure about whether the reward would change. Out of all the possible options, keeping a version of DEUS¡¯ Chosen, even if it was greatly weakened, was one of the better outcomes. Under the literal interpretation, it meant he wouldn¡¯t be able to use it until he turned ten. After that point, it would be extremely useful in helping him to fine-tune the build that he hoped would allow him to save humanity. The previous version of the trait was: DEUS¡¯s Chosen: Once every eight days, you may ask a question. The answer given will be the truth, but can only be a yes or a no. Which meant what he was getting from the title now was only a quarter as good as what he had purchased from the contribution shop and used in his second life, and thirty times worse than what had come for free in the tutorial. Back then, the questions had been possible daily, and it had been a crutch he had used to get through his everyday life. It would be a massive drop in flexibility, but even when reduced as significantly as it had been the trait remained powerful. Being able to ask whether he should continue on his current trajectory or change it up was something that he was looking forward to. With that first step done, he got to work, meaning to get the most out of the isolation room. He split his time between spear forms and studying. His research was focused on cataloguing the room¡¯s contents rather than on launching into any in-depth analysis. Tom was impressed by the breadth of information available. There were lots of books on a variety of builds, as well as on the unexpected synergies between powers that had been identified. Another few shelves covered battle strategies against specific enemies that could be found in the nearby wilderness. Tom did not read them from cover to cover to confirm they were serious literature. Instead, he put them into his to-be-read pile and moved onto the next book. All too soon, his isolation room time ended, and he went through another evening, slept, and then suffered a pain-filled morning before finally getting back into the isolation room. This time it was a different one, and, while the toys supplied here constituted a different set, the books were basically the same. The session was three quarters of the way through, and he was stretching to keep himself limber while his breathing recovered from the exhaustion of the previous ten minutes of frantic training. One by one, he checked the title of each book. These were dedicated to scouting and opponent analysis, and, while these were undoubtedly important skills, they weren¡¯t for him. He hoped to recruit a specialist into his team to fill that role instead of doing it himself. He grabbed one that was thicker than most, and then saw the title. A spike of excitement went through him, and he snatched it up. ¡°Racial Traits and Bloodlines Abilities.¡± He read the title out loud and then immediately opened it to the index. Chapter 13.2 – Human Racial Trait His finger stabbed down in relief when he spotted what he wanted. Humans - Page 8 Almost buzzing in excitement, he flipped the pages open. This was it. Finally, he was getting his answers! Humans. Possess Three Racial Traits He read the heading in a state of disbelief. After almost three sessions, he had finally found it. What he had been secretly hoping to uncover the whole time but had been too afraid of the answer, too terrified of disappointment to dedicate the time to search for it. But he shouldn¡¯t have been. He had been wrong. His fears misplaced. There were three traits! They had done it, and finally he could see a description of what his team had achieved in his absence. Directable Fate: Can actively direct fate. Tom¡¯s eyes skipped over that first trait. It was better than the words suggested; a doozy of an ability, of course, and the key to his future success. However, for him it was boring. It was exactly what they had already before he had died. Community Fate: Fifty percent extra fate is generated and then automatically split in equal parts to provide a revenge pool* to protect the individual, the community and the species. These fate pools decay at ten percent per day. Additionally, if the entire fate pool is emptied, regenerated free fate can be directed to the community benefit and have the usual stickiness penalty reduced by 75%. *The revenge pool acts independently, and is dedicated to causing bad luck to any non-human sapient that hurts the members of the pool. The backlash aims to duplicate, with interest, the negative impacts inflicted upon the human victim, from maiming to death. This can extend to killing sapient creatures through the created misfortune many months after the initial transgression. Intrinsic Fate Link: Provides a number of benefits: Fate is 20% more potent. Bloodline fate properties are improved. Receive +1 fate per level. And, fate specific traits, skills and spells are 30% easier or cheaper to acquire. Tom stared at the two extra traits that had been added since he was last alive. A huge grin split his face. He clapped in excitement. They had done it! He had suspected they had. But this¡­ this was evidence. Clare and the others had done it. They had been successful. He couldn¡¯t tell if they had managed it in the first year, two, four, eight or sixteen years, but they had definitely done it. Humans had stolen another species¡¯ traits during the competition! It was a massive achievement. All those years of planning, the sacrifices he had made to see this through ¨C it was all worth it, since they had been able to succeed. Following the plan that he had laid out for them, without DEUS¡¯ Chosen to keep them on track. It was incredible. And what a success it was! It almost made him feel less guilty about dying due to a stupid mistake. Tom knew he had skimmed over the exact wording, but the additions had all felt powerful. He focused on Community Fate to try and understand the precise benefit it brought. There were two parts to it. The first was the revenge shield component. The wording was confusing, but nothing that a bit of mathematics in the pseudo-system room couldn¡¯t resolve. What it did was create three pools of fate over time, each of which was one and a half times the size of the person¡¯s personal fate pool. That storage would then act as a direct and collective threat to anyone who hurt any humans. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°A revenge shield,¡± he repeated those words while his mind was striving to understand the intricacies underneath the broad description. If a sapient attacked, and then either materially hurt him or killed him, some of the fate that had built up in his pool, the local community storage and the species dam, would be unleashed to eliminate them. It wasn¡¯t stated explicitly, but he suspected that if the enemy was killing multiple people, the species pool would release a lot more fate than if someone had only killed one person. The released fate would not act as a protective shield ¨C rather, it was dedicated completely to offensive action. The part of the description that made the racial trait special was the section that said ¡®many months after the initial transgression.¡¯ That addition made all the difference. If you killed a human, you would create a pool of fate that wanted to kill you. Most of the time, that wouldn¡¯t be enough. But if you kept killing that hostile intent following you would only grow. Eventually, you would get in a seventy thirty fight or a sixty, forty fight where you would expect to win, and then that entire pool built-up over months would be out to get you. Everything that could go wrong, would, and you would die. The idea was insidious. A pool of fate that could wait until the killer of humans fought someone near its own strength, and then the world itself would turn against it. The ground would slip under their feet, magic with a low chance of failing would implode, the monster would dodge the right way and, when they themselves have to guess the safe position to dodge into, they would choose wrong. Each error like these had only a small influence on the battle, but when you added them all up, they guaranteed the killer¡¯s death. And given how the trait worked, you were not necessarily talking about small amounts of fate, either. He remembered Bir during their most recent bubble session. She had only been spending a few points of fate, but it had made such an extraordinary difference. She had gone from average to dominating as a result. That was with less than five points. The Revenge Shield worked on a level orders of magnitude higher. If someone killed a handful of humans, it was easy to see the combined contributions from all three pools building up to the point where thousands of points were acting against them. They would die fast. Despite its strength, it was a deterrent, not a shield. Once other species discovered that humans had this trait, they would be very hesitant about attacking. Until then, humans would remain fair game to all those stronger around them. Tom remembered the ladder and the consequences and benefits of each of the seven spots. This new trait functioned the best when humans were together. The importance of getting into the top four was only increased by the presence of this racial trait. This revenge pool would not matter if you were up against a single human. Yes, the hostile revenge-fate might, on occasions, be problematic. But if it was someone strong eliminating the weak, then the low levels of revenge fate would not be able to get through the natives¡¯ natural fate reserves. But if you had to fight ten million humans, even if they were pathetic and unlevelled, a small amount of fate multiplied by thousands would make powerhouses that would give even a terror race pause. One often-quoted rule in Existentia was that quality trumped quantity. One powerful person could defeat a hundred weak ones. However, this racial trait turned that paradigm on its head. It didn¡¯t matter now if you were many times stronger than humans - if you killed enough of them, that revenge fate would build up until there was so much of it that it would kill you. Where once someone might have been able to kill a thousand humans a day without any issues, with revenge fate in play, even eliminating a hundred would become a death sentence. ¡°You¡¯re the best, Clare. You¡¯re amazing.¡± The words slipped out. She had done it without DEUS¡¯ Chosen to help her with her strategies. She was completely missing his aid and the benefits of his preparations, and she had managed to pull off a victory anyway. This! This was exactly what he had wanted. A real future for humanity in Existentia - and that¡¯s what that trait did. The secondary component of Community Fate was not as interesting to him, though his strategic mind disagreed. It was happy to remind him that removing the stickiness penalty was a massive upgrade to the flexibility of the primary trait. His team had performed the impossible and beaten the dragon, and a lot of that success had been achieved by stacking fate for months until it was effective despite the loss of efficacy normally caused by using fate away from themselves. What they had unleashed against the dragon would have been four times stronger if this trait had been in existence. Nevertheless, while it didn¡¯t create any excitement, it certainly explained why all the adults had empty fate pools. The town was clearly taking advantage of that part of the racial trait. With a thought, Tom created a note in his to-do list. He was definitely going to find out what the fate of ten thousand people was being directed towards, because that sounded awesome. Some of it would be directed permanently to security, he was certain of that. Another chunk, he was sure, would be used to protect the reincarnated ones, but Tom wondered if they were using it for more exotic purposes. Say, like occasionally applying it to supercharge crafting, or to help everyone in the orphanage to improve their abilities. It was safe to assume that a lot of strategic minds would be guiding the plan. Unfortunately, he guessed, it would be awhile until he was able to uncover those exact details. Still, it was nice to imagine what such a massive amount of reality-defying potential could be directed at accomplishing. Asking those types of questions as a four-year-old, or even an eight-year-old, was definitely a no-go, though. Finally, the Intrinsic Fate Link was also interesting because of the variety of actions that it supported. Curiously, he flipped through the book to get an idea of the racial traits that different native groups had received. He wanted to understand how powerful Intrinsic Fate Link was, because, unlike Directable Fate and Community Fate, Intrinsic Fate Link had values that he expected he would be able to compare against the racial abilities of other species. With mounting excitement, he checked what the other species had. This was good, maybe even great. This gave humanity a real chance. Chapter 14 – Bloodlines Tom flipped through the pages, appreciating the quality of the information. Each profile was standardised: there was a picture of the species in the top right corner, then a blurb that described it. The images were not photo-quality, but they were close, and each one was accompanied by a silhouette of a starfish to convey relative size. Most of the species were significantly larger than a human, but some were like the starfish or even smaller, and only the size of a human head. For a minute, he flipped through the pages, admiring the artwork. The breadth of natives captured was extraordinary. There was the occasional species that appeared vaguely humanoid, three on his count amongst the hundreds of entries, others that were animalistic like the wador. The kind of presentation that, in computer games, would have had mutated in their description. They ran the entire gauntlet of features: some had skin that was hairy, hide based or scaley; some had limbs ranging from none to four, to six, to eight - right up to the hundreds you would see in the millipede territory. There were frills, bright patches of colour, decorative antlers, and lots of focus on natural weapons like prominent tusks, horns, or canines. Tom doubted that he could have come up with all the images that he saw, especially the exotic ones, sapients that just looked weird. A tangle of tentacles, a pile of pine cones, a marshmallow jelly fish - the variety relative to the conformity he was used to from earth, where most things had a common design, was astonishing. For a moment, he lay the book down and assessed his body. He was still sore, but his breathing was mostly under control. Fighting when fatigued could save his life, so he got up and dutifully went through spear forms while letting his mind drift in order to internalise what he had just learnt. His subconscious teased at something, a kernel of an idea. It was something hidden, something important. He thought about the different native species, how they looked, the construction of the book, the consistency and precision of the language. He thought of the way he reacted to the presentation on an instinctive level; of the fact that the book existed in the isolation room in the first place. That was significant, as he was sure that priests or people with similar skills were involved and curating the content. On earth, there were things you could say were truthful. There were those where there was a weight of evidence that supported the assertion, but you were never a hundred percent sure. Evidence could be forged. In Existentia, it was different: there were skills and active gods. Here, the concept of truth was real. Understanding bloomed through him. He finally understood what his subconscious had been trying to communicate to him. The book had a presence to it. It was like he was reading from the experience shop with the implicit guarantee of truth. It had nothing vouching for it, but Tom found himself trusting it more than anything he had ever read on earth. He could tell that all the assertions of fact were vigorously tested and confirmed, and there were no errors anywhere on the printed pages. That¡¯s the insight his subconscious was trying to share? He felt almost betrayed. What a useless segue! He threw the spear away, and it clattered against the door. He honestly didn¡¯t care about the book¡¯s provenance. Nevertheless, he picked it up and flipped rapidly through its pages to try to work out why his subconscious had so fixated upon that particular insight. It was his intuition at play, which meant he could be wrong, but at least eighty percent of the time he would be correct. As he skimmed through the book yet again, he reached the final pages. They were different, and this was why he had been certain of the veracity of the rest of them. The last six had been compiled by humans and covered the other competitor species. For them, the language was less definite, and the racial traits were question marks. Xetorlogs (Giants): Are vaguely humanoid and range in height from ten to sixteen metres tall. They are known to be very rigid in their thoughts, honour-bound, and liking to settle things by a display of strength. Warning: they consider anything weaker than them to be either their property or inconsequential and thus to be ignored. The description seemed innocent enough, but Tom, having met one of them, knew better. Sixteen metres tall was equivalent to eight humans standing on top of each other. When he had stood next to the giant, his eyes had been at a level just below their knee cap. It had towered over him. Its head was at the height of a three-story building, but, despite their mass, they could move faster than the wind. His finger tapped the question marks where the giant¡¯s racial trait was supposed to be. Their advantage was unknown, and that realisation made him hurriedly flip back to the human page. Given the obvious sensitivity of the information, Tom wondered why the human details were published at all. He knew the value he had got from seeing it, but satisfying his curiosity was hardly a reason to take that sort of risk. Now that he was searching for it, the footnote almost leapt out begging for his attention. The cost of getting this book out included the requirement to divulge the human racial trait. The proposed bargain was fiercely resisted by numerous factions, but in the end it was approved when the priests explicitly supported it. All versions sold are enchanted to self-destruct if read by anyone other than the owning species. Tom stared, and then mentally shrugged. The priests supported the deal. Which meant DEUS had signed off on it, so it was beyond him to question the why. He smacked his leg. ¡°Stop this! You¡¯re getting distracted by bullshit!¡± He told himself fiercely. ¡°Ten minutes wasted staring at dumb pictures. You have to do better, Tom!¡± With an effort of will, he slowed his breathing. Gawking at the pictures had been interesting, but not particularly valuable. What he had been trying to do was to baseline the value of the additional traits humanity had earned. To help with that, he spent a couple of minutes studying primary traits. Most of the species also had what he was terming secondary traits. They were noticeably weaker, so he ignored them. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. One by one, he examined the primary trait of a number of different native species. Extra Strong: Strength attribute is 15% more potent and receive three extra strength per level. Speedy: Speed increased by 40%. Twice as dense: All rocks incorporated in your body have their effective mass doubled, but remain as manipulatable as the base mineral. That one was for a rhinoceros-like creature, which, according to the blurb was part reptile and part earth elemental. Inferno: Fire manipulation abilities are 100% stronger. Magic Gifted: Plus one magic per level and all spells are 50% cheaper or easier to acquire. There was no way to directly compare the power of each of these to the human racial traits; nor did Existentia pretend to make things balanced. Despite the vagaries of it all, he was confident that human sub-traits were far stronger than even the primary traits of the other native species. The difference between humans and everyone else¡¯s sub-traits couldn¡¯t be clearer. His finger traced the description of three of a terror species¡¯ abilities. Flight: Air speed increased by 30% and allows the individual to change their effective weight instantly to be between 50% lighter or heavier. Mana Pool: Mana pool is 15% higher than the magic attribute would otherwise give. Agility Boost: Receive an extra point of agility on even levels. The last two were the sub-traits, and, just like his oracle questions in the tutorial had revealed, they were substantially weaker than the primary one. For humans, it was the opposite. If anything, Community Fate and Intrinsic Fate Link was more powerful than Directable Fate. He already knew what Directable Fate, their original racial trait, did. It was contained in just four words, ¡®can actively direct fate,¡¯ but that represented an ability with wide ranging and immense impact. Personally, he rated it as being significantly stronger than all the traits in the book - especially the competition version of it, which had no limits on what you could apply the fate to. However, he admitted that that was because he had used it. The rhino-like creature with the trait Twice as Dense could very well benefit from a trait tailored for their unique physiology more than they would from Directable Fate, no matter how highly Tom valued it. Even when the GODs weakened Directable Fate after the end of the competition, it would still be more powerful than everyone else¡¯s trait, though not as obviously overpowered as it was currently. There was a reason the GODs had a Geas in place to stop humans from communicating about the best ways to apply the ability. Its power was of a more subtle variety, like Community Fate, which could not be directly measured against other traits. Intrinsic Fate Link, on the other hand did not suffer those weaknesses. Intrinsic Fate Link: Provides a number of benefits: Fate is 20% more potent. Bloodline fate properties are improved. Receive +1 fate per level. And fate specific traits, skills and spells are 30% easier or cheaper to acquire. That was a trait that could be compared to these others. Tom did exactly that. The component that caused fate to be twenty percent more potent was equivalent to speed being boosted by forty percent, or at least close to being comparable. After all, fate was a primary attribute, while speed had an important, but narrow application. As for the trait Magic Gifted, Intrinsic Fate Link also gave plus-one of an attribute per level while also making traits, skills and spells thirty percent cheaper. Yes, thirty was less than fifty, but the range of both abilities were similar, with Magic Gifted applying to all spells, while the sub-component of Intrinsic Fate Link, covered traits and skills. Admittedly, only those with a fate aspect to them, but still. The human version applied to fewer numbers, but including skills and traits at all was a massive bonus that, in his opinion, triumphed over the raw number advantages of Magic gifted. It was, like most things, impossible to compare directly, but he judged them to be equivalent, though maybe the human¡¯s sub, sub-trait was slightly weaker than the primary trait of the other species. However, no matter what mental gymnastics you performed, it was definitely a close call. If he was going to do the mathematics, he would estimate that the human trait was two to four times as strong as the average primary trait. For a moment, he stopped doing anything, as he truly comprehended the full scale of Clare¡¯s success. He stood and laughed, with actual tears of joy running down his face. They had quadrupled the strength of the trait, or more likely octupled it, because Tom knew the benefits scaled in multiples of two. She had upgraded the trait by eight times - maybe even sixteen, if the advantages of Community Fate were greater than he realised. She had done far better than he had hoped. If she was still alive, he would give her a hug and tell her she was forgiven for the evil actions that circumstances had forced on her. He wiped the tears away. As a competitor fighting on the same side as him, she had always been admirable. She was one of the few people who were truly willing to do what it took to win. She was a mum prepared to cross lines to save her toddlers, and then there was the plan she had put together to beat the dragon and the giant. She had been brilliant as well as pragmatic, and he was very glad she had been in charge when he died. His gambles had paid off. Clare had made his dreams a reality, and that meant the world. Fourth place was enough, he decided. It wasn¡¯t ideal, and of course he would prefer first or second, but those estimated death rates were those predicted at the start of the competition and were now wrong. The new traits changed everything, and he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the survival of humanity was now guaranteed, even for fifth and maybe sixth place. Seventh remained a death sentence for them, but sixth would give them a chance. The ability of these trait changes to supercharge survival couldn¡¯t be underestimated. Things were no longer as dire as they had been. Still shaking, he studied the bloodline information to find out what the last benefit of Intrinsic Fate Link had changed. Bloodline Tier 1 Plus 10 fate. Tier 2 Plus 30 fate. General Affinity Efficiency +8%. Tier 3 Plus 70 fate. General Affinity Efficiency +16%. Tier 4 Plus 130 fate. General Affinity Efficiency +30%. Plus 1 fate for all future levels. He had already known just based on his own pool of fate that the changes to the bloodline had been material. This just confirmed it. The boost was no larger than he had expected, but seeing it written sent a thrill through him. The human bloodline had basically been trash-grade, but with these changes it had risen to be slightly above average. It was nothing like the one he had seen for the native dragon species, but it was now something to pursue. From what he could remember, the old tier-two bloodline had previously awarded only ten fate, and that potential gain from the general affinity efficiency alone had made it worth pursuing. For it to award thirty fate instead of ten was a significant benefit. The only real question was: what was it going to take to get him to enhance his bloodline to tier four before he started leveling, so he could receive that extra plus one to fate for each level that he got? It was a problem to solve when he was a little older, but he hoped that there was some sort of scholarship program that had that as a reward. Chapter 15 – Path to a Domain For once, Tom was not upset when the room dinged to warn him that his time was nearly up. What Clare had done, getting these racial traits, plus the blood line improvements as well, was extraordinary. While he had been plagued with uncertainty for the first week and a half of his new life, that was no longer the case. He could see a pathway to saving humanity, but his stock-taking was not yet complete. There still might be further informational treasures to uncover. He hadn¡¯t even gone into the trial, and, while he had memories of it, they were those of a four-year-old. In other words, they were incomplete. Yes, it had a very nice sunny lake to play in, but given the thought, care, and attention sunken into the isolation rooms, it only took a small leap of logic to conclude that the trial had to be offering a lot more than what his younger self had extracted from it. It was not an idyllic holiday destination ¨C it served a deeper purpose. The room dinged again, and Tom glanced up, slightly annoyed, and then shrugged. It was time to go, and, as usual he rearranged the room in the chaotic disaster zone that he, as Little Ta, had tended to leave. Tom grinned. Looking at these recent memories from a different perspective reminded him of when his sister was younger. An explosion of mess back then happened without any defining cause or reason. To duplicate it in two minutes was easy. He just tipped out two of the toy boxes and pushed the resulting pieces around. Then he placed some figurines on the bookshelf and dressed himself before accepting the offered cleaning. When the doors opened, he left with a smile. After eleven days, both their trio¡¯s routines and his own automatic acting were well and truly established. At dinner, consistent with his longer-term plans, he was adventurous and ate a slightly spicy sausage. He pretended not to like it and gulped down milk afterwards to remove the pleasant heat in his mouth. Soon he would be able to eat normally, and, given the wide variety of food that others on his table were consuming, that extensive adult palate wouldn¡¯t even be remarkable. His bed routine was the same as always, and, unfortunately, so was the morning. He practiced his healing throughout the day, hoping to push the ability to evolve. Late in the afternoon, the three of them entered their own respective isolation rooms. The moment it was safe, he ran the status ritual check. The screen actually updated, unlike the previous three times. He almost jumped in surprise and stared at the words in shock: ¡°Really? You have to be kidding me. This is great.¡± Out of all the unlikely options he had checked, it was this specific title which had been retained. He had thought it had no chance. He could barely believe it. ¡°Yes! Yes!¡± He fist pumped in excitement. He had already confirmed he had kept the likely titles and had been going through the unlikely but possible options. He had expected none of them to be kept, but this one had been. Title: Competition Shaker (I) Reward: Grants +1 to highest attribute per level before class points are assigned. Awarded for. Being in the top five humans to generate 1024 ranking points. Why had this one gotten through the gauntlet? The title had been a possibility, which was why he had checked it before he checked the ones he knew he wasn¡¯t going to receive, such as Vitality Fount. But there was a difference between possible and likely. This had been more of the former than the latter. It had been earned, at least partially, from soul-related title gains, but it had felt like it should have been classed as a body title. Honestly, in his mind it related primarily to what his body had achieved, with only a sprinkling of soul contributions on top. For an unknown reason, it had been classed otherwise, and he wasn¡¯t about to complain about that stroke of luck. He suspected DEUS must have put her finger on the scales. Out of all the uncertain titles, this was one of the better ones. An attribute for every level was powerful, especially since he had resigned himself to getting no freebies on the attribute front from his prior life achievements. At least, not until he used the knowledge from his prior life to re-earn the titles with his new body. There were still a handful of unlikely titles to cycle through, but he doubted lightning would strike twice, and it was likely he had worked out everything he could about his status sheet. Attributes ¨C Overall Rank 0 Strength: 10¡ªRank 0 Vitality: 8¡ªRank 0 Agility: 7¡ªRank 0 The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Magic: 4 ¡ªRank 0 Fate: 43 Spells Heal Minor Scratches 4 (Tier 0) Skills NA Traits DEUSs Chosen (Tier 0)* Titles Hunted Reincarnated, Competition Shaker (I), Evolution Master, Complex Conspiracy Discoverer, Sage of Fate (Earth), Unique Skill Creator *Locked until the earth age of ten and will not accumulate questions before that time That was the status that defined him. For a moment, he stared at the attributes, processing how low they were. In his memories, which were only two weeks old, they had been forty times higher. He had been able to think much faster and had been capable of moving forty times quicker, and now he was reduced back to this. The benefits of attributes were very real. He was not yet five, and had known, rationally, what the reincarnation had meant. Despite that prior knowledge and being prepared for the truth, however, it still hurt to see the reduction. He could guess that was his fault, though. After all, he had made the mistake by not preparing for that final fight fully. That had cost him both his life and those previously-earned attributes. Only the first four attributes went into the official rank that everything used to compare themselves. Fate, while not considered a useless stat, had an effect that was too random to be factored into the easily-understood combat comparison system. That meant that the fate metric couldn¡¯t drag his rank up. An adult male on Earth would have gotten forty with this measuring system, so he was probably completely unenhanced. If he did have anything extra, it was mild, and at most one or two points gifted by Existentia. If he had been this weak on earth, in the wild by himself with a spear, he might have been able to fight off some of the animals out there. A bear, no, but a lone dog, yes. That was not the case in Existentia. Here, anything and everything could kill him. Tom shook his head and looked away from the attribute sheet. There was no point considering it any further. His low attributes robbed him of any agency to speak of¡­ for the time being. Against what was out there, he was powerless. He chuckled to himself. He guessed that was what being a child meant ¨C that, despite what he wished, adults would have to keep him safe. But Existentia also had magic, and, if he couldn¡¯t raise his attributes, his only source of power would be adding spells and skills to his repertoire. Especially skills, as they weren¡¯t dependent on attributes - they could protect him when his physical abilities couldn¡¯t. That was his aim. Currently, the only one he had was Heal Minor Scratches, which was a trash spell and had no offensive potential. However, he was determined to change that before he turned five hopefully and six at the latest. He would master lightning, as at low levels it had the most potential to swing a fight in his favour. Being helpless was not a feeling he appreciated. Tom¡¯s eyes fell on the traits line. There was only one instead of the four he had possessed when he had first entered Existentia. A single trait, and he doubted there would be any more revealed. He had already confirmed that the other traits purchased from the contribution shop were missing. The ones acquired in Existentia were definitely gone, so there would be no more until the experience shop unlocked, unless there was a way to earn them. Mentally, he added that to his to-do list, putting it near the top. If it was possible to gain traits as a child by a method other than spell evolution, then it was definitely something he had to find out about. Tom forced himself to stop sulking about what he had lost. This was a second chance, and, given the conditions in place around his reincarnation, he would have the opportunity to make a difference if humanity was failing - and that was exactly what it was doing. Success in that attempt was unaccompanied by prophecies or any other great omens, but if he was here, then there would be a chance, and that unexpected title would help. Grinning, he threw himself into his spear forms, imagining as he did that he was fighting off a wolf. All too soon, his low attributes had his body cramping up. Puffing, he searched the room to decide what to do next. His cataloguing of the available resources was almost complete. He just needed to do a few more of the drawers and check the higher shelves. He looked between the two and snorted. His arms and legs were trembling. There was no way he could push through the exhaustion to climb up the shelving. His eyes settled on the drawers inbuilt into the wall to the right of the bookshelf. He went over and opened them up. The inside was like a filing cabinet and there were a series of vanilla-hued folders with labels on them. Fire Domain Decay Field Command Undead. ¡°Interesting,¡± he muttered to himself, and then pulled out the package labelled Fire Domain. The thick cardboard folder contained loose-leafed sheets, and he stared at the first page. It seemed to be a list of low-level fire spells. ¡°Wait, think,¡± he told himself as he absently closed it. Trying to see patterns in a list of fire spells was not helpful. ¡°This is not a mistake. Someone did this deliberately. It¡¯s important.¡± Tom was well aware of his strengths and weaknesses, and in the forty-year tutorial he had focused on learning aspects of the system in detail rather than acquiring general knowledge. As much as he would like to pretend otherwise, he knew very little about fire, so instead of delving into the fire domain package, he searched the headings for a topic he would know more about. He flipped through the various labels, and then finally spotted what he was after. Healing domain ¡°Jackpot,¡± he pronounced and opened it to the first page ready to discover why the powers to be had included this particular resource. Despite him knowing the topic in depth, it took Tom a moment to understand what the lists on the page represented. From what he could see, someone had transposed all the tier zero spells from the experience shop and written them up. He frowned, then tapped his fingers with his mind racing. Why? Why go to so much effort? It seemed like a lot of work for minimal return. Especially when everyone would be able to find all this out from the experience shop when they turned ten. It didn¡¯t make any sense to him. Tom studied the information further. ¡°What are you hiding?¡± he muttered. The first pattern he noticed was that the listings were not random. The two best tier-zero spells, Touch Heal, which he had specialised in during both of his previous lives, and Healing Missile, were both at the bottom of the page. That caused him to reassess exactly what he was seeing. There was an underlying structure to the presented information. The page was broken up into five blocks of spells. There were numbers next to each of the spell names, as well as lines linking each spell to another. It took him a few seconds to parse the mass of data in order to determine why it was here. His mouth dropped open. ¡°Oh my lord,¡± he whispered thinking of Michael as he said those words. His eyebrows were raised in astonishment. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s actually genius.¡± Chapter 16.1 – Healing Domains Tom was certain what he had was a roadmap. With growing excitement, he traced the connections from the trash spells up to the two best in the tier. Heal Minor Scratches and Alleviate Surface Bruising could be combined into Heal Skin. Stitch Wound and Internal Mending together created Triage Cut. Remove Dead Tissue Minor and Sterilize Open Wound merged to form Purified Tissue Minor. Triage Cut, Heal Skin and Purified Tissue Minor became Heal Cut. Heal Cut, Tom knew, was a very efficient spell whose only weakness was how niche it was. But if a sword sliced your thigh open, that was what you wanted to use. For slashing wounds on an even level basis, Heal Cut was better than anything else in tier zero, as well as outperforming most of the tier one and two alternatives. He licked his lips and traced the information down further. There were similar evolution trees for Heal Organs, Mend Bone, Purge Foreign Substances, Replenish Flesh and Blood and then a much smaller tree that clearly represented the prerequisites for healing missile. Out of all six trees, Heal Organ had the most components feeding into it. This was because every organ was different, with each of them needing at least one unique twist to the magic that fixed them. The pathway to fix the lungs required inflating it, intestines had to cater for the removal of waste product, and the heart had an extra pressure-containment module that was not needed for anything else. Then, once you had all five of them, or six, if you wanted the missile option, they rolled into the ultimate tier zero spell. Tom had, of course, known how flexible Touch Heal was, but he hadn¡¯t realised how many components fed into it. He flipped the page and was unsurprised to find the two core tier zero spells constituted pre-requisites for everything in the tier 1 tree. Thankfully, there were only half the number of entries in the tables for tier one. Tier two spells had fewer still. The higher you got, the easier it grew - at least, from the numbers¡¯ perspective. Tom wasn¡¯t fooled. Each individual transformation got more than twice as difficult with each step up the tiers. ¡°Absolutely unbelievable,¡± he said. He knew some people might consider him crazy for talking to himself, but it had always helped him reason things out ¨C besides, this was the only time he could talk like a normal adult. Outside this room he was Ta, and that was a drag. Given his plan to evolve crappy spells into better ones, the knowledge on this sheet was extraordinary. It was a guide. And it was exactly what he needed, and he would kiss whoever had thought to produce this information. They were currently Tom¡¯s favourite person in the world. Better still, Tom was experienced enough to recognise this was a carefully curated knowledge. There were no specific instructions anywhere. There were no words or diagrams to help interpret the data. You had to tease the insights out by reading between the lines. They might as well have written in bold on the first sheet, that this package has been ¡®designed not to interfere with the title acquisition.¡¯ Between the way this information was presented and everything else he had learnt, he was certain that there were juicy titles available, and that they were awarded for acquiring multiple skills and spells before maturity. Not after one spell, obviously, but, perhaps, after four? Or maybe eight? Possibly it required a spell higher than tier one, or maybe they functioned under some weighted criteria that recognised that a tier two ability was worth at least ten tier zero abilities, or something like that. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Tom squeezed the sheaf of pages for a moment. There were around fifty of them, and the first one alone had contained a massive wealth of information. What else is hiding in there? He wondered. Reverently, he flipped the pages open, and saw that the next one covered the tier one paths like he had already determined. The next few pages took that journey all the way up to tier six, where the progression ended in a Healing Domain, Basic Resurrection or Restore to Optimal State. Each of these three spells was special. Basic Resurrection did exactly what its name implied, but it was highly restrictive. Basically, it was a spell that had to be triggered within a minute of death and, when someone died in battle, there was rarely time to do that. Out of the three, Tom saw that as the weakest. The Restore to Optimal State, in addition to healing grievous injuries, could also purge powerful poisons, venoms, curses, and hostile energy types. Over hundreds of pitched battles, it would save far more lives than the limited Basic Resurrection Spell; of that, he was sure. As for the final spell, well, the usefulness of the Healing Domain heavily depended on its exact features. The basic versions Tom had seen would provide continuous low-level healing for free, as well as boost your own healing spells within the domain range. Visibly, it would not save as many lives as Restore to Optimal State, but in an extended battle of attrition Tom knew which one he would want on his side - and it was not the mana-hungry, one-use, heal-all ability. If Tom¡¯s ambition was to be the best healer ever, then following this guide was how to do it. If he could have two of those tier six spells without spending a point of experience, it was hard to imagine the type of class he would be awarded. It would be a legendary level at a minimum, and might let him find hidden titles like Deliver a Million Units of Healing before getting a class. He tore his mind away from these daydreams. ¡°That is not your path,¡± he snapped at himself. He would not try to do that, even if thinking about it made him wet his lips. He had a build that he had decided on, and that was the one he would follow. For him, the plan for healing was always only to progress far enough to be confident that he could keep himself alive when things went wrong. Once more, he tapped the paper and considered the hidden information contained in the drawers. The folders were filled with knowledge, but what was implied was as important as the specifics. The level of detail provided was, to put it lightly, interesting. Why did they choose to go up to tier six - why not tier four or eight? The fact they had included those extra steps, but not further, suggested that someone obviously thought it was possible to develop a domain before getting access to the experience shop. I¡¯ll get three, Tom promised himself. He had developed one in six months, though, admittedly, off a far higher base, which had given him far more mana and fate to invest into the effort. He had done it once, so he was confident he could do it again. As his fingers flipped over the first few pages of the Healing Domain, the complexity really drove home how hard gaining a domain was. Last time, he had cheated heavily by using both high tier and significantly levelled spells. This time, he would need to start with nothing. He would need to create almost a hundred base spells, ranging from tier zero to tier two. They would then have to be pushed through a couple of hundred evolutions. He did the mathematics in his head. Ten years, twelve months per year that gave him a hundred and twenty months, which meant getting the domain would require him to evolve or create a spell almost every week! Tom whistled at that requirement. To get three¡­ He frowned. That was more challenging, but he moved on. Chapter 16.2 – Healing Domains He was only on sheet seven, and the stack was far thicker than that, so he flipped over to the next page, wondering what else was contained in the information pack. The revealed page was nothing like what he was expecting. There was only a single heading - Remove Bone Bruising - and no other words after that. Instead of rows of text, there was a series of detailed wireframe diagrams created to show a three-dimensional structure on the two-dimensional surface. The diagrams seemed familiar, and he was pretty sure he understood what they were trying to show, but he knew nothing about the Remove Bone Bruising spell. Feverishly, he flipped through the pages, until he found the one labelled Heal Minor Scratches. That was what he needed to solve this mystery. He sat back with a very satisfied grin on his face. The wireframe on this page was one he recognised. With a flick of thought, he activated his singular spell, and the spell form appeared. He held it in stasis while his eyes darted between what he had created and the diagrams. They were nearly identical. The same wireframe was repeated down and across the page with a series of slight differences. Extra lines were added, and an occasional additional swirl and the thickness of various lines altered between each of them. He studied the true spell form that the system had created, then compared it to what was on paper. The spell form, he realised, was not three-dimensional. ¡°No,¡± Tom corrected himself. ¡°Realised is the wrong word. I meant I recognise that the spell form isn¡¯t three-dimensional. Because I¡¯ve always known that.¡± He could distinctively remember delving into Touch Heal and changing its function ¨C not by altering the three-dimensional representation, but by changing the density and the internal oscillations of the spell structure. He had always understood how the spell worked, and all he was doing now was consciously recognising that component of it. It was not at the front of mind, because the system did the bulk of the work, and all he usually did was filling the construction with mana. That, and maybe fiddling with a couple of areas. Now that he had seen the components that made up Touch Heal, he understood that those changes had been specialising it closer to its basic and therefore more efficient forms. Even this simple trash spell, Tom realised, existed in four-dimensions. That could not be captured cleanly on paper, but whatever artist had constructed the diagrams in front of him, they had attempted to do exactly that. The thickness of the lines, the changing additions, the multiple sequential illustrations were there to mimic that four-dimensional structure. Curiously, he flipped over to a higher tier spell and saw that the diagrams were now in colour. They were also glowing with mana to better reflect the extra dimensions beyond the four ¨C the dimensions that the earlier ones had required and captured via multiple diagrams. He had never realised how complicated magic truly was. You couldn¡¯t show multiple dimensions on a basic paper in a single illustration, but numerous views from the same perspective allowed you to get close, especially when you added in tricks like colour and embossed paper. He flicked back to the spell he knew and studied it. ¡°Wow, amazing,¡± he whispered as he went from one diagram to another and compared them to the official system spell form he had created. ¡°An absolute genius created this.¡± With this process, he could see exactly how the thing recorded on paper could be translated into the four-dimensional space. The sheets of paper he held in his hands were a road map that would allow anyone with a sufficient control over raw mana to create a spell form even if they had never seen it before. Whoever had come up with this was a certified brainiac. ¡°How did you even think about doing this?¡± he asked the empty room in disbelief. There was, of course, no answer, but Tom knew what he had to do now. He went back to the first page and referenced the evolution pathway. The best way to improve his existing spell was combining it with Alleviate Surface Bruising. His hands flicked to the page that contained the sketch of the four-dimensional spell form that he needed to duplicate. Tom studied the diagrams carefully, then compared them both to his memory of Touch Heal and the Heal Minor Scratches spell form. He still had it materialised to compare those in real time. What was on the page was significantly simpler than Touch Heal, and was - unsurprisingly - close in both structure and complexity to the spell that he had already learned. The differences were mostly below the surface. The alterations were in the fourth dimension rather than the usual three. That was captured by the thickness of the lines and some minor physical changes, a couple of extra spirals and one missing cross beam, but in only three dimensions they were nearly identical. Even in four dimensions they were very similar, to be honest. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. It was a spell form he was sure that he could duplicate. First, he needed something to heal. As usual, once he had made his mind up he didn¡¯t hesitate. He grabbed the nearest blunt object. It was a rock shaped like a thicker phone that served some kind of magic purpose he hadn¡¯t figured out yet. For now, he didn¡¯t care. It was hard and convenient and there were no nearby perfectly positioned corners to kick. Without hesitating further, he brought the rock down hard onto his shin bone. He winced and then lifted the stone back up. This was one place he knew that bruised easily. When he was a kid, his shin had always been covered with them. He struck a second time, then a third and a final fourth. It was both worse and better than cutting himself. The initial pain was more intense, but it faded quicker. In the mirror, he could see them already forming. Ugly red welts that would soon go black. That was enough for now. Tom took half a minute to focus on deep breathing, until the pain went down sufficiently to become less of a distraction. For this, he wanted absolute clarity of mind. He pictured what he desired and spent ten fate to weigh the probabilities of it occurring into his favour. Then, with painstaking accuracy, continually referring to the sheet of paper, he constructed the spell form out of raw mana. As always, it felt like he was picking up screws while wearing heavy work gloves. The magic did not conform to the pattern he wanted. The fate was actively correcting the worst of his errors. But it wasn¡¯t enough. The magical lines he had drawn only loosely aligned to the complicated structure that Alleviate Surface Bruising, one of the simplest spells in existence, demanded. In defiance of its imperfections, it snapped together to create a stable spell form. Tom raised an eyebrow at that. He could see the whole thing had a slant to it, and, by rights, it should have collapsed, but the active fate had obviously reinforced it in the right spots ¨C enough so to keep it together. He filled it with his entire pathetically small mana pool, and then he sent it into the bruise that looked the ugliest. There was no itchiness and no overt signs of healing. There was also no ding that would have announced success. Tom frowned and studied the bruise he had tried to heal. It appeared slightly more yellow than the dark blue of the other three. He was confident that the spell had worked. Not perfectly, because if it had been perfect the spell would have been awarded to him by the system, but it had worked. The severity of the bruise had been noticeably reduced. It was, he suspected, a long way from perfection, but it was closer to it than his scratch spell had gotten in his first few days. The more he watched the bruises, the more certain of it he was. It would do, Tom decided. Within a week, not only would this spell be mastered, but he would have also taken the next step and evolved the two of them into Heal Skin, as he promised himself. There was no time to waste. That was proof of concept, and it meant he would be well on his way to reconstructing Touch Heal, and, once that was done, he could turn to more interesting applications like lightning. Tom looked at the brick that he had used to strike himself. Creating the conditions for his learning was not going to be pleasant. He shuddered. Eventually, he realised, he would have to work on bones and organs. But that was a problem for the later him, and there were more important things than fleeting physical discomfort. The fact was he was making progress and had the tools available to do more, for example. Smiling, he got up once he had recovered enough, then worked through his spear forms. The movements were as crisp as he could make them, but he wondered if it would be sufficient. Unlike with magic, he didn¡¯t know, even theoretically, how to create Skills from scratch beyond the method of almost dying multiple times, which was not a technique he was willing to try even with fate backing him. There was a fine line between almost dying and actually dying, and if you got close to it too many times eventually you would cross it. Tom knew he wouldn¡¯t get a fourth life - at least not one where he had a chance to save humanity. He would not throw his life away unnecessarily, even if it meant he would come out of it with only spells. However, Tom still had hope. He remembered the girl with the fork, and Corrine implying the skill was not that impressive. There had to be a shortcut or a cheat to create skills - he just had to find it. The mana spells that he had thought he had understood inside out had been far harder to build from scratch than he had expected, and his knowledge of skills was far less than that of spells. One thing was certain: he was not about to crack this problem by himself. For now, he hoped that practice and repetition could help him establish a base for later. He alternated his recovery time between studying the Alleviate Surface Bruising diagrams and continuing the cataloguing of resources. He was hoping for a similar road map for skills, but he hadn¡¯t found what he wanted - at least, so far. There had been successes. He had found the Lightning and Earth domain folders, but Teleportation was missing. He shrugged. There were holes, but so what? He had roadmaps for half the things he wanted to develop, and finding that in the first two weeks was pretty good going, as far as he was concerned. Teleportation, Precognition, Time Stop and Spear abilities were going to require a different solution. He had over ten years to solve this problem, and to be honest, he had known the skill acquisition was always going to be the hardest part of his build, so nothing had changed apart from one part of his development becoming a lot more certain. That was something to celebrate. There was a ding to signify the approaching end of the session, and he packed up, as always, by spreading the toys everywhere. Then he stepped out, excited by his progress. ¡°Clean that up.¡± Dimitri snapped at him. Tom glanced back at the toys that covered the floor. There was no way Little Ta would want to spend time cleaning that. Dimitri was scowling at him, but was also not in a position to easily grab him. Tom sprinted away with a laugh. Their caretaker did not follow or try to stop him. Tomorrow there was no isolation session, but that was okay, because he was going to be forced into the trial instead. He hoped it would allow him to kill stuff. Training was useful, but there was nothing quite as good as a full-on life and death fight. Chapter 17.1 – Trial Introduction The next day, when he woke, he grimaced at what he had to do. The cocoon of blankets he formed was larger than usual in order to give him more room for swinging his arm. Then he used the handle of his knife to strike himself. Some of the blows shifted the blankets, and he was worried that the noise of each could be heard. However, with his newfound wisdom covering the true risks to the reincarnated ones, he was confident he was safe. To become the best that he could become, he needed to take risks. His legs ached from the repeated blows, and he was certain he had created plenty of minor injuries to work with, but in the dark it was hard to tell. For a moment, he considered flipping the blankets open to let the light in, but then he checked himself. The injuries were on his legs, and he only needed an instant to check them. He broke his normal routine and pretended he had to use the big kid¡¯s toilet, the one with a cubical door. The moment it was locked he yanked down his pants and nodded when he saw the angry black bruises covering his thighs and shins. It was more than enough to work with ¨C in fact, probably too much. Too many of them looked deep, but that was, where he was concerned, better than not having enough. Next time he was in the isolation room, all the deep bruising that his spells couldn¡¯t touch would be healed. Until then, he would gladly suffer the minor discomfort. The day was normal right up to the time immediately after lunch, when Dimitri took them and a gaggle of other children, around half the four-year-olds, outside, to what appeared to be a particularly large tool shed. As they got closer, it was clear that the heavy barn-like doors were already open. The moment he stepped through, the atmosphere changed even before his eyes adjusted to the reduced light. He and everyone else could feel the oppressive air that surrounded the trial. There was a tension, an expectation of action, an aura that was mildly uncomfortable for humans, but one that would drive all monsters away. He breathed in deeply and contained his mounting excitement¡­ at least, mostly. Some slipped out, but that didn¡¯t matter. Little Ta enjoyed the trial. He liked the lazy playing in the lake and the hot sun. Pa punched him lightly on his shoulder, and, when Tom looked, the other boy appeared just as happy as Tom felt, which was jarring. The larger kid was usually surly about these sessions, and complained incessantly, so the excitement was off-putting. Tom guessed it had been a couple of weeks, so maybe he had forgotten what he hated and only remembered the good bits. The grass-is-greener sort of thing. Tom grinned back, then checked on Bir. She, too, was happy, but that was less surprising, given her past behaviour. Tom pushed them out of his mind and admired the perfectly spherical ball that was floating half a meter off the ground. It looked like it had been created out of a dense orange stone, and was as wide as he was tall. The approach to the trial was blocked by a volunteer. It was a thin woman in her mid-thirties, at least judging by her appearance; she had sharp Egyptian features. She held up a stone: ¡°Scan as you go past.¡± That voice reminded him of the day of the ritual. This was the adventurer, the woman called Delilah who had been gossiping during the trial. He guessed he should be thankful; her presence had forced the man running it to keep to the script. Trying not to stare at her, he did as instructed and placed his hand on the stone she proffered. It would register him, just like the isolation rooms did. Then he was through. Dimitri, who had got ahead of them, ensured that they approached the trial stone with an even interval of thirty seconds separating them. This measure was designed to allow them to move away smoothly when they all exited after their four hours. As each child touched the stone, they vanished. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Then it was his turn. He walked up, lifted his hand to place it on the surface, and never felt his hand connect. One second, he was standing in the shed with the sphere filling his vision, and then the next moment he was here. In the trial. In a cozy room, one that both he and Little Ta recognised. Tom snorted. It was his bedroom from Earth, and the place where Little Ta had been brought every time. He had found it strange at first, but now considered it to be his special place. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve changed.¡± A pleasant voice said from behind him. Tom spun around in surprise and wished he had a weapon. The room was like usual, but this woman being here was not expected, though he had vague memories of her presence previously. She was a matronly-looking older woman who was unruffled by his aggression. Her expression was relaxed, and her eyes appeared kind. She glanced down at the clipboard she was holding like she was reading a note. ¡°Do you wish to do the usual?¡± Tom stared at her suspiciously. ¡°Are you the trial administrator?¡± She arched a single eyebrow. ¡°Interesting. Yes, you have definitely changed.¡± His eye twitched, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He was afraid of discovery, and it hadn¡¯t slipped his mind that she hadn¡¯t answered him. ¡°Are you?¡± ¡°Yes, I am.¡± She smiled neutrally at him. Tom tried saying various things, from being outright rude, to obnoxious ones that revealed way too much about himself. Social Silence was not triggering no matter what he thought about blurting out, which was interesting to say the least. Especially so, given that it was clear that she knew the truth about his circumstances. ¡°Can you explain the rules of this trial?¡± Tom started, then paused. Perhaps, maintaining some level of plausible deniability was sensible. ¡°A friend of mine was teasing me and told me I could do more here than play in the lake.¡± ¡°A friend?¡± She seemed amused by that claim. ¡°I doubt that very much, Ta. Is that the right term of address or would you prefer a new name now?¡± ¡°Ta is fine.¡± ¡°Suit yourself, Ta.¡± She emphasised his name like she knew it was a false one. ¡°Now, Ta, before we continue, do you wish to apply your new Speedster title to this session?¡± Tom¡¯s mind went blank for a moment, and then his eyes widened. That was one of the titles he hadn¡¯t got around to checking yet, and Little Ta had never been asked about it in all the other sessions. The fact that she asked the question now, together with the other mistakes he had made¡­ The mistakes were numerous, too - his conversations had been too complex, his reaction to her voice behind him too violent, not to mention the additional evidence of what was probably a new title. There was no way the trial administrator didn¡¯t know everything. ¡°What can you tell me about the title?¡± he queried hopefully. She laughed: ¡°Well, I know four-year-olds don¡¯t clear trials faster than adults, let alone over a range of nine ranks.¡± He swallowed: ¡°That¡¯s¡­ how? Do you know everything then?¡± The words squeaked out. ¡°No, what I have access to is a long way from everything. But I think I¡¯ve had enough fun teasing you. It¡¯s enough to tell you that I know why this title became available.¡± Tom hesitated. He deliberately ignored, at least momentarily, what she was implying. For now, he wanted information: ¡°If I were to use it, how would it work?¡± ¡°Avoiding the topic wouldn¡¯t help you, Tom. As for your question, using the title in this trial will increase the dilation ratio. The usual four hours will pass outside, but in here it will be longer. Biologically, you¡¯ll age at the same rate as the rest of Existentia. It¡¯s perfectly safe. The extra time can¡¯t be divined.¡± She had said his name! There was no point in pretending anymore. He had to face the issue head-on: ¡°How secure is this trial?¡± She nodded and went down on one knee the way adults did to get on eye level with the children: ¡°You¡¯re asking if you can trust me? There is only one way to address that.¡± Her facial features grew harder and more serious as she met his gaze. All pesky human emotions were pushed away. ¡°I swear on the GODs themselves to only ever tell you the truth.¡± Tom¡¯s mouth almost opened in surprise at the shock of hearing her say that. This was a far stronger reassurance than he had been expecting. Chapter 17.2 – Trial Introduction ¡°Shut your mouth, boy. I¡¯ve dealt with reincarnated ones before, and I need to swear on the GODs because anything below that leaves your kind suspicious. I¡¯m on your side, and I won¡¯t, and, in fact, can¡¯t betray you.¡± ¡°Um¡­ thank you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure. I¡¯ve seen how disorientating this process is for all of you, and I feel for what you¡¯re going through.¡± ¡°You understand what I need, don¡¯t you. With the competition being as it is.¡± He shrugged to indicate both his desire and helplessness. ¡°I know.¡± She told him. ¡°I¡¯ve triggered the title. But you¡¯re not here to focus on the outside. This is about you and using this to become stronger, isn¡¯t it?¡± He nodded uncertainly. ¡°The rules I¡¯m bound by state that everything I learn is a hundred percent confidential and completely locked for fifteen years.¡± ¡°That short?¡± he interrupted in alarm. ¡°Fifteen years isn¡¯t long enough. I won¡¯t be able to fight rank eighty assassins by then.¡± ¡°Calm down, Tom. Listen, and don¡¯t jump to conclusions. I swore an oath on the GODs that I was on your side. If there was a problem, I would have started with that. Nothing that happens in here will put you in danger.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± he scratched behind his ear. ¡°That¡¯s good. That¡¯s good.¡± ¡°After that fifteen-year exclusion period I can use what I¡¯m told to help others, providing that the person who shared the knowledge has their anonymity preserved.¡± The words, he was sure were, supposed to be significant. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Why are you telling me this?¡± ¡°Because you need to understand how this trial works. Because it¡¯ll help you get the most out of later opportunities. If, let¡¯s say, you told me a secret that could change the lives of everyone who came through here for the better, I wouldn¡¯t be able to share it for fifteen years and possibly longer, since me talking about it straight away would have allowed them to track you down as the originator of that nugget of information.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°All you need to know is that any secrets you reveal will remain just that. I can¡¯t betray you. This trial is here to allow you to get better.¡± ¡°And what can I get from it?¡± Frolicking in a large pond didn¡¯t sound useful to him. She frowned a little at that question: ¡°Less and more than you think.¡± Tom raised an eyebrow at that response. ¡°This is a GOD¡¯s trial. It¡¯s not a standard thing. There are three entrances, one in each of the towns, and I oversee all three of them. It is exclusively for training. You¡¯re fully protected, but the flip side is that you can¡¯t earn experience, titles or rewards based on your actions.¡± ¡°Then why come here?¡± She shrugged her eyes challenging him. Tom said nothing, waiting for her to clarify further. ¡°I can¡¯t give you stuff, and you can¡¯t earn experience. Nothing else is blocked. There are even ways for me to work around the restrictions which we can discuss at a later point in time.¡± ¡°So, any practice in here counts to level my skills and contributes to progress toward evolutions?¡± She nodded. Tom recalled the details of the title that had just been activated to see if the effects of it were as boring as he remembered. Title: Trial Speedster (IX) Reward: Increases movement speed and perception of time by 180% when within a GODS trial. Awarded for: Being the fastest to clear a dungeon that has been visited at least one million times for nine separate ranks. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Tom frowned. He suspected he knew the answer, but had to ask anyway. ¡°And how does the speedster title work?¡± ¡°It almost triples your time in here.¡± ¡°So, I have twelve hours?¡± She hesitated: ¡°I can do some time dilation if explicitly requested. I can make it so that the four hours is extended to a little over nine, which, when combined with you title, will give you twenty-six hours.¡± ¡°Twenty-six hours,¡± he mused. ¡°Does that mean I can use my fate pool twice?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be returned in the same state you came in with. So, the answer is yes. Providing you arrived with a full fate pool, visiting this place will effectively give you three fate uses in a day instead of one. In other words, what you started with, what you regenerate, and what the leaving restores. I¡¯ve been told by others that it¡¯s a massive boon.¡± Tom frowned. He wished he had known that earlier. His pool was only two-thirds full. ¡°Good to know.¡± The woman smiled, and Tom shook his head. She was not human - she was a trial administrator, and he didn¡¯t want to think of her as anything else: ¡°Actually, is it possible for you to take your true form?¡± ¡°Yes, but I would rather not. A lot of human communication is non-verbal.¡± ¡°My preference is not to start thinking of you as a human.¡± She bit her lip: ¡°Well¡­ maybe I could¡­ yes, that will work.¡± As he watched, she became younger. Her skin lost any imperfections. A yellow halo appeared around her, and wings sprouted from her back - white, pure, and majestic. ¡°An angel?¡± The face, which was inhuman because of how perfect it was, smiled at him: ¡°I think it¡¯s appropriate. I keep the non-verbal communication, and you won¡¯t be confused about what I am. Does this meet your criteria? Or¡­¡± she grinned teasingly. ¡°Is this shell so beautiful that there¡¯s a risk you¡¯ll fall in love with me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m four years old.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not. If I had to age you, I would say you are slightly under forty.¡± Tom did not bother interrogating the mathematics. If he only counted time around other people, then he was twenty-one or twenty-five, depending on whether Little Ta¡¯s memories were taken into account or not. If you considered the tutorial as well, then he was over seventy. How she got forty from that was a mystery, and for the important parts of the conversation it was irrelevant. However, in terms of human emotion, she was wrong: ¡°My hormones beg to differ.¡± He told her. He was not sure this body could promote anything like sexual attraction, and, in any case, the angel was well into the disturbing uncanny valley territory. She chuckled: ¡°But you¡¯ll age. Biological impossibilities aside, if this form is too distracting, I can change.¡± ¡°No need,¡± he confirmed. There was no confusion now. He knew what he was speaking to was not human. ¡°Which brings us back to your original question.¡± She continued. ¡°What can you get from this place? You can practice as much as you desire and have unlimited materials to do whatever you want. I had a boy come through. He hadn¡¯t been reincarnated like you, but he was obsessed with building.¡± ¡°Building?¡± ¡°Yes. For ten years, I¡¯ve supplied the wood, metal and tools for him to construct tree houses. They became more and more elaborate, and he ended up receiving some skills naturally via repetition or perfection, and others as a result of my specific guidance. By the time he turned fifteen, I imagine he could have constructed a modern house in a day. Pump a hundred levels into him, and he would have gotten work anywhere on Existentia.¡± ¡°Did he become that great?¡± She shook her head: ¡°Identification rules. The fact I can tell you should have told you the situation.¡± ¡°Dead and forgotten.¡± He guessed. She didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Not a feel-good story. Plus, I don¡¯t want to be a master builder.¡± The angel laughed: ¡°It was just an anecdote. An unfortunate one that the system lets me use because it doesn¡¯t compromise anonymity. But you are not limited. You can practice anything you want - alchemy, for example.¡± ¡°Fighting?¡± She hesitated: ¡°Yes, I can support that, but unlike crafting, it¡¯s not equal to fighting in Existentia, because you won¡¯t get any combat bonuses. From the realism perspective, it will be identical to you clashing with real monsters. But as the system judges, it¡¯ll consider it to be the equivalent of you training against someone actively not trying to kill you.¡± ¡°You mean, I can become a chew toy and get credited with the same benefits as someone crossing wooden practice swords with their brother?¡± ¡°Unfortunately so.¡± ¡°That hardly seems fair.¡± ¡°These are the rules I have to play under. But the realism will be perfect, and help you if you ever fight monsters directly.¡± ¡°Do you recommend me fighting here?¡± ¡°If that¡¯s your path, then it can¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡°Why should I go through the pain?¡± ¡°Do you understand how the basic weapon skills work?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± he answered, and she waited for him to elaborate. ¡°You can get them two ways. One is performing the required movements thousands of times to a high standard, the other is executing them each once, but perfectly. A true master can reacquire the mastery skills instantly.¡± ¡°Close enough.¡± She confirmed. ¡°The thing is, most people are much more likely to perform a movement perfectly in the throes of life and death combat, yes,¡± she continued hurriedly when she saw him go to argue. ¡°Yes, even in a simulated combat under a GOD¡¯s shield you¡¯re more likely to get things right. Why, you might ask? Well, if you¡¯re a doing a lunge, you¡¯ll put more into it if the creature is retreating and you need the extra reach to kill it. At the base level, it¡¯s basic psychology. As you said, an expert doesn¡¯t need it. You, on the other hand, probably do.¡± He considered that: ¡°If I perform movements perfectly, what happens if I¡¯m not aware something¡¯s required? You know, a specific move like a two-handed forward block or something.¡± She waved her hand dismissively: ¡°The mastery skills are not that picky. Providing you¡¯ve seen half the moves, you¡¯ll get there.¡± Tom nodded: ¡°So the trial is an opportunity. At its most basic, the time dilation and free fate will let me supercharge my magic development.¡± He looked her straight in the eye. ¡°What about skills? Not mastery. I understand how to get mastery. I¡¯m talking about the proper ones. Power Strike, Lunge, Teleport. Can you help me develop them?¡± Chapter 18.1 – Spear Work The fake angel met Tom¡¯s eyes: ¡°Can I help you learn those skills? I can, but it¡¯s not black and white. Right now? This instant?¡± She shook her head. ¡°But eventually? Yes, I¡¯ll be able to.¡± ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡± He asked bluntly, not understanding the need for evasion. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be cagey. I don¡¯t have time for it. My species¡¯s very future is on the line.¡± She held up a hand imperiously: ¡°Stop. Remember my oath. I¡¯m on your side. I swore on the GODs. My loyalty is not up for debate or doubt.¡± Tom¡¯s brief flash of anger faded. Her point was more than valid. She had made that oath unprompted, and it was not one that could be a pretence. It was real and the GODs wouldn¡¯t allow doubt when their name was invoked. Not even illusions or hallucinations would permit such a misrepresentation to exist. If he thought it was sworn on the GODs, then it had been. ¡°Things are not simple. I¡¯m bound by rules, and I¡¯ve already stated that I can¡¯t give you stuff. I¡¯m not like a normal trial in that regard.¡± There was something about her tone. ¡°And here comes the but.¡± He guessed. She smiled: ¡°Yes, here comes the but. I can¡¯t give, but you can earn the help to develop those skills.¡± ¡°Great, let¡¯s do that now.¡± She laughed: ¡°Don¡¯t be so impatient. There¡¯s a process to go through, an order in which to do things to achieve the best result.¡± She looked at his hands, then at his eyes. ¡°Your weapon is the spear, correct?¡± He nodded. ¡°Earning the right to the aid to acquire true skills will take time. Hundreds of hours should pass, usually, before I can give you hints. Most reincarnated ones don¡¯t start getting help until at least one year has passed. You will get it earlier, given the time dilation, but we¡¯re still talking about months. I suggest you use the time you¡¯re getting and the extra fate to work on relearning the basic Spear skill. I assume you¡¯ve had it previously?¡± She finished, giving him a hard look. ¡°Of course, in both lives.¡± Her face softened. ¡°Sorry, I had to clarify. Others have misled me before, and thus wasted time, because, in my ignorance, I inadvertently provided them with poor advice. Better to ask at the start and make sure that we¡¯re both on the same page.¡± ¡°Why would they do that? What would they get out of lying?¡± ¡°They had specialised in swords and had figured spears were better and decided to reset things. It might have been an accident of omission rather than them deliberately misleading me. Pretty dumb on their part, anyway. Now, as I was saying, my recommendation is that you use about a third of your time and all of your extra fate to earn Spear Mastery. The remaining time can be spent earning hints for the other skills. This first set of clues is for free,¡± she waved her hand. ¡°This was given to me for this purpose and approaches the line without crossing it.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. A man or a woman, or at the very least a humanoid, appeared, holding a spear. The person was so thoroughly disguised Tom couldn¡¯t distinguish a single feature. ¡°I¡¯ve been able to use this for ten years.¡± The figure started showing different spear moves. A thrust, a block, specific footwork, the shifting of his hands to an alternative position on the shaft, spinning the weapon to reposition it; between each set of movements, it returned to rest. Then it began chaining them together. The display was precise, and no movement was ever repeated. ¡°Beautiful, isn¡¯t it? And this was a real person. Every movement done perfectly,¡± she whispered next to him. ¡°Incredible talent, and a genius as well to share it like they did to be used by kids in the future. Note everything about it. The angle the ankles are at, how the fingers spread for some moves but constrict on others. Every bit is important, not just the vibe. If you duplicate eighty percent of these, you¡¯ll get the skill.¡± ¡°I thought the threshold was fifty.¡± ¡°It is, but I suspect not all the moves are shown here, just enough of them to be of help.¡± The routine ended. ¡°I can show this to you as often as you wish. The system may interpret it as if you were learning from a master, which would be unfortunate. It might not, of course. I don¡¯t know. I hope it doesn¡¯t, and I think it won¡¯t, but be warned - I don¡¯t know anything for sure. In any case, I recommend you take advantage of the opportunity. I can¡¯t imagine there being any real benefit to you studying it by yourself. At worse, it¡¯s just a tier zero skill. Its weight in any calculation has to be almost non-existent. Better in my mind to get help with this one and fill the prerequisite for the other superior skills, so you can start working on them sooner.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Tom told her. A weapon appeared in his hands, and the figure started going through the moves from the start again, and he duplicated the motions. Everything he did lacked the crispness of the example he was trying to emulate, but he persisted. By the time the routine finished, he was drenched in sweat, and it was a struggle to breathe properly. He gasped for air, standing straight with his hands above his head to open his airways. The angel glanced at him and the tightness in his chest and the trembling in his muscles vanished instantly. ¡°You know what you need to do and, as I said, combat helps. Remember this.¡± She looked pointedly at the shrouded figure that was in its resting stance. Tom shut his eyes to reflect on his own attempts and review what he had seen and what he had done. The background noise changed. There was a distant rustling and the touch of a breeze on his skin. His eyes snapped open to grass surrounding him, trees ten metres in front and an open sky above. The spear he held hadn¡¯t transformed. It was the perfect size for him, unlike the one in the isolation room, but that was a secondary consideration. He was exposed, and presumably in danger. He spun around on the spot, searching his surroundings for enemies. It was suspicious, and the fact that he was in this new location with a spear in his hand was not a coincidence. He was in a large clearing in a forest, with the ground being covered with the type of grass you would find on a golf course. Sure enough, a dog poked its way out from the trees right on cue. It was white and fluffy and clearly a poodle, even if it was a little ungroomed. Once it emerged, Tom assessed it. The animal was larger than he expected, with its head on the level of his shoulder, but that might have been more a comment on his own height than the animal. It was skinny, but given its height and the fact that it ran on four legs, it was going to outweigh him, even if marginally. ¡°This is a dog from Earth, and it has rabies,¡± the trial administrator¡¯s voice said from above and behind him. Tom didn¡¯t bother looking. Whether the angel facsimile was here in person, or it was just a projected voice, didn¡¯t matter. ¡°It will attack you to kill.¡± It was stalking slowly toward him, and he knew it would speed up once it got in range. He positioned his weapon ready to engage it. ¡°In the future, no pets from Earth.¡± He snapped. ¡°That¡¯s crossing the line.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Sorry.¡± The dog was frozen like time had stopped. ¡°I thought it would be appropriate because you would both have unenhanced strength.¡± ¡°No dogs,¡± he repeated. ¡°And most of you don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°I do!¡± Obediently, the dog¡¯s body shape changed. The mass and attributes he suspected remained the same, but its fur was replaced with scales and its snout became more reptilian even if the rest of the body shape didn¡¯t seem to alter. Then time restarted and when it moved, its gait had altered. There had been structural changes he hadn¡¯t been able to see. Now, the legs spread out like a crab so that its stomach was closer to the ground, and it scampered rather than bounded. Chapter 18.2 – Spear Work He waited with the familiar calm of his battle trance taking control. He wasn¡¯t sure what this monster¡¯s hunting patterns were going to be, so he had to be ready for anything. Would it fight similarly to a boar and try to charge through him, or would it stop to exchange blows like a crab, or would it keep its canine brain and rely on agility and guile to grab his leg to knock him off balance, or, if it thought it had opening, would it spring for his throat? For him, the apparent time slowed slightly. Not in reality, just in his perception, as all of his focus narrowed on to the single outcome. The creature exploded into action, choosing to attack in a method that was reminiscent of a wolf crossed with a boar. Without care for subtlety, it charged directly at him - and then leapt for his throat from almost three metres away. The correct technique to block such a full-frontal assault was one of the forms that the figure had demonstrated to him: align the tip with the chest, and then thrust brutally forward with the butt of the spear braced with the help of his foot against the ground. That was what had been shown and what was needed now. Tom suspected it was not a coincidence. From his past lives, he knew that the forward momentum was essential for avoiding the spear slipping off the target or getting knocked aside by an errant paw. You could wait and allow the monster to impale itself, but such passivity was never as effective as the more active movement. His battle trance let him respond effectively instantly, his body already moving before his conscious thought had caught up. He shifted the spear into position with a focus on getting both the tip and the butt into the right place, and then transitioning his weight forward with a half-lunge, the base of it braced by his foot. The mind was willing and honed, but his body was horrifyingly slow; it felt like he was pushing through water instead of air. His brain blared warnings of failure. The weapon was not aligned. He couldn¡¯t get it in the right position fast enough, let alone impart sufficient forward momentum to ensure it penetrated rather than bounced off. Instead of finding the lizard-dog¡¯s chest, he struck the shoulder. For an instant, the tip caught, and he thought he might score a decent glancing blow - and then a single scale gave way and the weapon skittled away. Rather than being impaled, the dog-lizard was barely deflected from its original course. From the moment the tip failed to find purchase, Tom was acting to mitigate the failure. He launched himself sideways into a desperate roll while dragging the spear closer so he wouldn¡¯t lose it. The monster would go past him. He would get his feet reset and keep fighting. Its snapping jaws missed. He tucked his head in to roll, and his shoulder caught the ground. It was a jarring impact that converted his speed into an uncontrollable bounce. Desperately, he attempted to rebalance himself, find his feet, point the spear. Jaws clamped onto his shoulder! Pain shot through him. Then its momentum struck him. He was only halfway to standing, and that impact caused him to topple forward. Without hesitation, he discarded the spear, knowing the creature was too close for it to be useful. His hand went to his belt - and found empty air. There was no knife waiting for him. Grapple, he thought, changing his tactics instantly. Fighting against a monster his size and rank while unarmed was an impossible task, but likewise he refused to give up. He tried to roll forward to use the beast¡¯s own momentum against it and flip it over him, to perform a simple judo throw where the physics would benefit him. The teeth disengaged. Internally, he cursed. It must have realised what he was doing and released its grip to protect itself. Instead of driving the monster into the ground in front of him Tom found himself losing both contact and sight of it, and having to tuck his head under him and rolling. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! His hands dug into the grass and pushed himself upright, and he looked at where he knew the monster was. Too slow! Way too slow. It was already lunging at him, mouth open, teeth with red streaks of blood over them on full display. There was no time to dodge. He thrust his arm into its mouth to protect his neck and hold it off for a fraction longer. It bit. He heard the crunch of delicate bones in his wrists and fingers, and, of course, he felt the pain, but between the bite on his shoulder and adrenaline he could push through it. His arm was partially down its throat and their weights were kind of similar. He threw himself forward, pushing his arm that was only partially functioning deeper into it, hoping to obstruct its airways. He wanted to make it choke or struggle to breathe, creating a chance for something to go wrong, to force an opening. His chest struck its snout, his leg wrapped around its torso, and his working arm linked around its throat while his hand went for its eye. His thumb was digging into its lid. For a moment he felt like he was doing nothing but that just encouraged him to push harder, he knew that eyeballs when they gave way did so suddenly. It was half choking on his arm and briefly he wondered if this was the opportunity he was searching for. If he could hold on for long enough¡­ he tightened his legs. It thrashed under him his hand slipped and then he was tossed sideways. His ruined arm left its mouth. He landed on his back and had the air blown out of him. Desperately, he rolled to his side and pushed himself upright. If he stood, he might be able to fight or do something. It was already lunging for him like the wador that ended him in his previous life. Open jaws lunging at his face, teeth on full display as it went for the kill. Bloody saliva trails linked the teeth. It closed on him. All he could see was the red of its mouth, its tongue and in the corners of his eyes, teeth, so many sharp teeth. The mouth shut. There was a moment of blackness. The pain vanished, and, panting, he was suddenly on the floor of his old bedroom. The angel with her inhuman features regarded him dispassionately. Tom couldn¡¯t even tell if she was judging him negatively or positively or couldn¡¯t care less. His heart was thudding in his chest. That had been terrifying. The memory and parallels to his last death made him shudder. ¡°You didn¡¯t give me a knife.¡± He accused her. ¡°If I had a knife, I could have gutted it.¡± Tom wasn¡¯t sure that was the case, but had no desire to admit that a knife might not have made a difference. It was possible that in this body, after failing with the spear, he could have done nothing to defeat it. He was helpless against something as weak as a poodle. He had fought and defeated creatures larger than a house, creatures that could have torn a tank apart with a single swipe of their tail, and now he was reduced to this. It was a reminder of how things had changed, and something to remain aware of. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that a knife was part of your usual setup, and you didn¡¯t ask.¡± ¡°Who doesn¡¯t keep a knife on their belt?¡± ¡°Four-year-olds.¡± Tom stopped his rant. That was actually a fantastic point. Then the anger returned. ¡°But you knew I wasn¡¯t that young.¡± He forced himself to take a slow breath as he reminded himself of her vow. That was not done lightly. Sometimes pain was necessary, and he had been set up, but in the context of her oath there had to be a reason for that. ¡°When fighting, I like to have a spear and four back-up knives,¡± he told her in an even voice. ¡°two on my¡­¡± ¡°Wait.¡± She interrupted. ¡°Just picture exactly what you want.¡± Tom did as ordered and immediately felt the weight of the new additions. The weapons were in the exact spots he had imagined them. The handles and sheathes matched his imagination, right down to the dull black colouring. He drew the main knife. He glanced down, curiously. It had weight, and was wickedly sharp. Satisfied, he put it back and confirmed the others were just as good. In a fight, they would do the damage he expected. ¡°Do they need to be heavier, lighter, a different shape?¡± He glared at her suspiciously. The knives were perfect, just like he had visualised. ¡°They¡¯re fine. What¡¯s next?¡± His surroundings changed. Once more, his feet were on the grass and the spear held firmly in his hands. The monster this time was not hidden. It stood ten metres from him. Blood on its muzzle, a slight scratch on its shoulder and a bloodshot eye. This was the same creature that had killed him earlier. He wondered why the trial administrator had chosen this path rather than creating a new opponent. Was it to allow him to get revenge on it? Some people Tom knew would care about something silly like that. He didn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t give a shit. This was combat practice, and nothing was personal. He lowered his spear and got ready. In his mind he rehearsed the exact movements the figurine had made, and he spent three fate to help him duplicate it. This opportunity, the way the dog lizard had fought, the way it had leapt in a way for him to execute the movement perfectly¡­ None of that was a coincidence, and he would use his fate to get the most out of it and trust the trial administrator to change the scenarios as he mastered each step. With her help, the basic spear mastery was a lot closer than he had imagined. Chapter 19 – Forming a Proper Relationship The lizard-dog glared at him. There was a recognition in its eyes. It remembered the previous fight, and probably the taste of his blood. It scampered toward him with that alien and unnatural movement sequence. Tom weighed its actions clinically. The gait, the low spread-out legs would once have disgusted him, but his decades of experience meant he could ignore its alien nature and read its emotions through each step. There was a note of caution in its actions. This time it moved with its stomach closer to the ground, and with smaller steps that would let it react faster to anything he did. It watched him suspiciously, and, in this state, there was no way it would do something as stupid as leap at him. Thankfully, it was a low-ranking monster, and he was certain that its base instincts would soon crush the memories of its previous encounter. It was not like it had lost last time. Instead, it had only suffered a couple of scratches. As it got closer, he could see the rising bloodlust in its eyes, as well as the fact that its steps were faster and longer. It was succumbing to its nature. He was a sapient, and it was a monster. No matter what lessons it tried to cling to, no matter how it strived to suppress the hunger, it was going to fail. The desire to kill a sapient would overwhelm everything else. It sped up. Tom shifted seamlessly into his battle trance. Time seemed to slow down slightly. Everything became crisper, every detail captured and processed. He was aware of its rippling muscles, the thrum of explosive potential, and this time he understood the base patterns that the species naturally resorted to. It would go for the throat, Tom realised, and shifted the position of his spear. He moved it from resting into a more aggressive stance. If it repeated its previous pattern, the change would give him a tenth of an extra second to respond. Unless it goes for your ankles, a traitorous internal voice reminded him. If it did that, then he would be screwed. It accelerated, charging at him, and then leapt. Its mouth was open, with strings of bloody saliva leaking out the sides, presumably forced out by the wind pressure. This time, he was positioned perfectly. In the cocoon of focus, it was easy to wait until it was fully committed before he reacted, and, when it was hopelessly hunched and ready to spring, he executed the spear form. The tip didn¡¯t need to move as far, and he transitioned into a forward thrust with the butt of the spear skimming the grass, his foot following behind it to brace it when the collision occurred. The collision happened almost too fast for him to follow visually, but he felt everything. First the tip digging in, slicing through skin, and then the resistance of a couple of centimetres of muscle before it struck bone. There was a series of vibrations followed by the spear jerking in his hand as the force of the impact was transferred through the wooden shaft. His braced body was insufficient to hold the weapon in position, but the butt end was pushed hard into the ground, which, combined with his foot jammed against it, absorbed most of the power. It was messy. The fingers on his right hand slipped. The kick of the shaft forced his leg back an inch, but, overall, he held it steady and the bone gave way. He stared at the lizard-dog. It had come to a halt, suspended in the air with the spear a good foot into its chest. If its anatomy was anything like that of most animals on earth, it was dead. It was barking on the end of the weapon, its teeth snapping, but black blood was pouring out. Tom couldn¡¯t hold it up like this. The weight of gravity was too much, and even if it weighed significantly less than him, the length of the spear created such leverage that a creature weighing even a quarter of him would have caused problems. Experience from other battles told him to lean into the inevitable. He sped up its descent, so it struck the ground far harder than it would have if it was just a matter of gravity, and he used the collision to twist the spear to widen the wound. Then he yanked his weapon clear. Instinctively, he danced two steps backward and moved into the rest position which would let him respond if it survived. A low-probability event, but more than possible. He knew nothing about the monster. It could have multiple hearts or a different anatomy that would have meant he had missed striking anything vital. Blood poured out of the gaping wound in such quantities that he relaxed slightly. Remove the blood, and you would kill most things no matter how many hearts it might or might not have had. Life fled from the eyes and he knew the fight was over. A second later, the trial confirmed the same by making the carcass vanish in a sprinkling of lights. ¡°Easy,¡± he whispered. Another lizard dog appeared on the far side of the clearing. This one had more black stripes and was slimmer than the first. It oriented on him and started to scamper toward him. He recognised that its every action was more fluid than that of the last. His breath hitched as he realised that this, in turn, had to mean that it was faster, even if it wasn¡¯t using that pace yet. There were also no signs of the caution that had been visible in the second fight. From the start, it charged recklessly. Tom performed the same movements, but its slight boost of speed meant his spear tip moved slower and hit off centre. It was still impaled, and he slammed it into the ground and snapped the weapon back. The black blood from the wound was a dripping rather than the flood that had preceeded his last kill. He retreated a couple of steps while keeping his spear at the ready as the creature struggled to force itself to its feet. He realised it was crippled. The gaping wound in its front shoulder had disabled the leg underneath it. Try as it might, it could not move properly, and Tom was not about to give it a chance to adjust to its new three-legged reality. Two careful stabs from a safe distance killed it. Another appeared - this one heavier, scarred, and older. More laboriously than the first, it leapt at him. He had a ridiculous amount of time and landed the killing blow, despite tripping slightly as he thrust his leg forward. A fourth was dropped in to kill him. It was closest to the first in appearance and he spent a couple of fate to help him perfect the thrust. It died to a single blow, apparently it was not enough, a fifth materialised. A drop of sweat in his eye caused him to blink at the wrong moment. The spear thrust was a glancing blow and then before he could recover it was against his chest. He got one knife in his hand, but strength-wise he was too outmatched and he didn¡¯t even manage to stab it before it tore fatally at his throat. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He appeared back in his old bedroom. Energy flooded through him, stress markers released by the repeated fights were purged, and his breathing was restored. The angel gave him a very human thumbs up and, with no words spoken, he was sent back into the clearing. The battles blended together. Most of those, he won. Some fights, despite their victorious outcome, left him so wounded that it would be pointless to push him into another engagement. When these ended, he was immediately teleported to the bedroom. He knew she could have healed him in the clearing, but she wanted to give him a mental break as well. He appreciated the thought. The lizard-dog, one of the slimmer varieties, lunged at him and he effortlessly pivoted, thrust, impaled it, and then cast it down to the ground. After killing over twenty of them, he recognised a mortal blow when it was landed. He shifted back into the resting position, focusing on recovering his breath while he waited for it to bleed out. It vanished in the usual flurry of sparks, and he lifted his eyes to meet that of the next opponent. Four eyes instead of two met his stare. Confusion flowed through him, but only momentarily. Two opponents meant the challenge had been upgraded. The fights had not been getting easier, but the form he was trying to perfect he had to admit had began to flow smoothly. The monsters gave him no time to think. While they had materialised together, they immediately split apart like wolves would have to attack from multiple sides. Even with a spear in his hands, Tom was a four-year-old. He knew how impossible battling two opponents at once was likely to be, especially while he was blind to their tactics. Nevertheless, he trusted the trial administrator, given both her actions and her oath. Little things about her approach impressed him. For example, the way she gave him a moment to compose himself after each faux death, but made sure the waiting wasn¡¯t so long that he would dwell upon it. If she had changed the scenario, it was probably because she thought he had mastered that single form. He wondered if she could tell explicitly or if she had let him make multiple kills that were perfect according to her senses and was trusting the redundancy was sufficient. They were circling him, and he knew that, if given a chance, they would attack from his blind spot. With two, he should be able to prevent being blindsided, but if they struck from his front and back, with this body he would be in trouble. As they spread out, he watched for a mistake to exploit. The one to his left blinked and Tom sprung forward, charging the monster to his right in an attempt to create chaos. They had almost encircled him, so his actions would leave his back exposed. Theoretically, he wanted to kill the one he was charging or, failing that, get its body between him and the second, but practically he knew that wasn¡¯t going to work. There would only be an instant before the other reacted and charged him from behind, but sprinting decisively at one of them bought Tom a couple of metres. His knowledge of how they fought one on one would not help him here. They were pack animals, and with another of their kind being here, the strategy they employed was likely to be completely different. As he had feared, the lizard-dog he was charging down did not launch itself at him. Instead, it dodged backwards to give its companion an opportunity to attack his undefended back. Different plans and options went through his head, and his mind remembered the moves the figurine had showed him. That was where he had to draw inspiration from. The point of these fights was to gain the mastery of spear, not to kill the dog-lizards. Even as he puzzled over strategy, his battle instincts took over, and he copied one of the forms he had witnessed. He spun, focusing on his footwork as he did so, reversed his forward momentum, and completed a one eighty-degree turn. He was thrusting at the second lizard dog before he had finished the spin, because he knew it would be descending on him. His eyes widened. It was already launching at him, and he lacked the perfect balance and body positioning to cause it to impale itself. He adjusted on the fly and sought to knock it aside while keeping the option to hurt it if the opportunity occurred. Tom calculated angles and had the choice of throat or side. With a GOD¡¯s shield protecting him, he went for the high-risk high-reward strike. His spear tip flashed for its throat. He struck where he aimed, but without the momentum or force he was after. The weapon dug in, but probably not deep enough. His pirouette and the slight impact of the tip against its throat allowed him to avoid its snapping jaws and then he continued the spin to face the other threat. It was coming hard and low, and there was no avoiding it. He twisted and spun his weapon so its teeth closed on the wooden shaft instead of his leg. He staggered and yanked the spear away from it. Thankfully, it let go. The other one was already leaping at him. He wanted to use the spear to hold it off, but if he tried, it would be too slow, and the monster, despite his best efforts, would crash into his chest. That was death. He collapsed at the knees to allow it to fly over him while he grabbed his knives. Pain exploded as the second creature seized his ankle. It pulled back sharply, making him overbalance and fall flat rather than rising to his feet as planned. The attributes his four-year-old body granted were a joke. He attempted to sit up and slash the knife at the creature that was dragging, but each tug overwhelmed the effectiveness of his abdominal muscles. The battle was over. The other lizard-dog was about to reengage, and, when it did, he would die. ¡°I quit,¡± he yelled. Nothing happened. The second one seized his shoulder. He thrust at it with the weapon in hand on the other side. The blade skipped over the scales. With both of them pulling on him, he lacked leverage to fight effectively. The one on his leg let go. He drew the pained limb back and prepared for the follow-up attack he knew was coming. His dagger was held facing up above his belly. Unfortunately, the monster scampered up his body rather than leaping straight onto his throat. There was no chance to impale it, and its mouth knocked his weapon aside. Desperately, he focused on repositioning the knife to stab it from the side. He felt pain on his neck, a flood of warmth down his chest. He was being killed again, but there was no stopping it, so he focused on revenge. The dagger dug into his opponent¡¯s body and struck a rib. Mentally, he cursed and tried to thrust again. The strength wasn¡¯t there. This time, the blade was deflected by the scales. The pain vanished. Panting, he reappeared back in the bedroom. The trial administrator was studying him with a detached expression. His body reacted to her presence. The released adrenaline was drained away, his heart rate slowed, and the heaving breaths became unnecessary between one breath and the next. She gave an almost imperceptible nod, approval on her face. Suddenly, he was back in the clearing. Two of the lizard dogs were across from him. Both had red blood on their muzzles; one also sported a scratch on its shoulder and a slight limp in its hind leg. ¡°No,¡± he yelled. ¡°Let¡¯s talk first.¡± They were spreading out to flank him. He moved, taking quick steps backwards to buy himself thinking time. How could he kill them this time? He asked himself. There was a blink, and once more he stood in his old bedroom. The angel was staring at him: ¡°Sorry, I thought you only wanted to quit the losing battle. You got punished by one of the conditions of the trial. Unfortunately, I¡¯m barred from acting once you¡¯re in combat. That includes pulling you out or destroying your opponents.¡± Tom absorbed that and didn¡¯t care. As far as random rules went, that was one of the ones that he expected. She looked terrified at how he was going to respond. He had definitely screwed this up. She shouldn¡¯t be having that reaction, and it told him how poorly he had treated her. He scratched his head ruefully: ¡°Is there somewhere more comfortable we can go?¡± he asked. ¡°I think we need to talk person to person.¡± Chapter 20.1 – A Training Accord The trial administrator in an angel¡¯s body nodded slowly in response to his request. She raised a hand and clicked her fingers right in front of his eyes. Involuntarily, he blinked, and, even before his eyes reopened, he knew he was elsewhere. The temperature was slightly higher, there was a buzz of background conversation and the strong smell of coffee. He was not a fan of the drink, but even he had to admit the aroma smelt delicious. The ceiling lights were also brighter than the room he had come from. It was not blinding as such - it was more a sign of how dim his bedroom had actually been. Rather than being perched on the bed, he had been moved to a cushioned bench which, when he stretched, he found to have a great back support. He blinked again and glanced around curiously. This was nothing like what he had expected. The angel was across from him, separated from him by a high-quality plastic fake wooden table. They each had a coffee cup in front of them, steaming as though a waitress had just put it down. He was sitting upon a comfortable bench, and she upon a stool - which, given her wings, was probably the most relaxing way for her to sit. The place he found himself in was a full-on earth caf¨¦ with a modern open-floor plan. There were multiple tables, and, while none close to them were occupied, the ones further away were full. It was difficult to focus on his fellow patrons. They were human, some dressed in suits, others in smart casual, but he had a sense that they were closer to a replay of a video in three dimensions than real. They were there for background ambience and couldn¡¯t be interacted with. If he was willing not to question reality too much, it felt like he was back on Earth. The angel had a smug expression on her face. He tapped the table, and the sound it produced matched its looks. It was plastic, and this was a made-up space. She could have included the finest of wooden furniture, if she wished. He sniffed and shook his head incredulously: ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°A caf¨¦. You wanted a place to talk. I believe this is the traditional setting.¡± Tom stared at her. This place was not from his memories. ¡°What? You¡¯re not the first kid I¡¯ve had this conversation with. You reincarnators like it here, and, to be honest, the ritual itself is a good one too.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Much better than meeting in a dank cave and chatting over ritual sacrifice.¡± His eyes widened in response. ¡°Is that¡­¡± ¡°True?¡± she laughed harder. ¡°Probably, but not something I¡¯ve done. But this,¡± the angel waved her hand. ¡°This routine is nice.¡± ¡°You find it¡­ wait¡­ It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± he waved the thought away. ¡°I used to be an apprentice builder. I¡¯ve never done a sit-down coffee before.¡± ¡°Ah¡­ well, if that¡¯s the case, let me explain how this works. The white vessel in front of you is a cup and the black liquid is called coffee. You sip it while we chat. Why are you glaring at me?¡± He snorted in amusement despite everything: ¡°You know why?¡± ¡°Because you prefer tea?¡± He groaned, and she just grinned: ¡°Relax and enjoy yourself. Personally, I find this to be pleasant. It¡¯s a neutral environment, and, if there¡¯s an awkward pause in the conversation, you can sip the coffee to break it.¡± Stolen novel; please report. She said nothing, and time stretched uncomfortably and then pointedly she lifted the cup for a delicate sip of her own coffee: ¡°So, what did you want to talk about?¡± He took a deep breath, and then realised he had been procrastinating: ¡°I wanted to apologise.¡± Her carefree, relaxed manner changed, and for a moment, she looked more serious than usual: ¡°Apologise? Nope, you¡¯ve nothing to apologise for.¡± ¡°No, I do.¡± He interrupted. ¡°When I was fighting the progression of lizard-dogs, I had time to think.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a lizard-dog. It has almost nothing anatomically consistent with either of those species. It¡¯s called a cotada.¡± ¡°When I was fighting the cotada,¡± he corrected. ¡°I had time to think properly, and I concluded that I reacted poorly. I can blame the stress of the reincarnation, or you springing the knowledge of the title on me, or the fear of the assassins hunting me, but these would be just excuses. So, sorry. I¡¯ve been rude.¡± She laughed: ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. I was testing you with that introduction. It was deliberately done to unsettle you, and you reacted better than some.¡± ¡°I have my own standards, and I should have done a lot better. Especially after you gave that oath. Being rude after that was unforgivable.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no need for this,¡± she waved his protestations aside. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to apologise or be concerned. I¡¯ve dealt with reincarnators before, and the future of your entire species is on the line. You¡¯re allowed to act out that stress.¡± ¡°No. It was wrong. I should have done better. Can we do a restart?¡± She took a pointed sip of coffee with her eyes on him the entire time as she assessed the pros and cons of the offer: ¡°That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let¡¯s restart.¡± ¡°First, do you have a preferred name?¡± She stuck out her tongue at him: ¡°Are you sure you want to ask that?¡± ¡°If I didn¡¯t want to know I wouldn¡¯t have asked¡± ¡°It¡¯s your funeral. Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you. My name is.¡± There was the impression of joy at conversation, excitement at helping people get skills and age beyond what he could imagine, along with weird floors that had strange patterns on them that looked like runes. He stared at her blankly, his mind hurting from an overload of information. She smirked in response. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can pronounce that.¡± She laughed and took thirty seconds to calm down: ¡°No, I can¡¯t imagine you managing it. You can call me April instead.¡± ¡°Nice to meet you, April. So, I guess this isn¡¯t the first trial you¡¯ve administrated.¡± She shook her head: ¡°It¡¯s not. This is my fifth, but I like it more than my previous assignments.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because you guys get lonely and need to talk. In my previous ones, the challengers rarely chatted, and when they did, it was always about business. It was absolutely exhausting. I also prefer the structure of this setup. The others were rigid tests, and if they were successful, I awarded those who passed them a skill. Sometimes a tailored one, which could be fun, but usually generic. Here, I am helping you to learn something new, or to master an ability you already have. I am teaching knowledge as opposed to inserting it, and that, for me, is much more satisfying. Tom remembered her true name and tried to reflect on it: ¡°Is that why your name was...¡± He focused and projected what he could recall. Ancient presence who enjoys conversation and happiness at teaching new stuff on a floor covered in runes. Across from him the angel¡¯s face transformed, and then she broke down howling. She slapped the table hard enough to spill the coffee: ¡°That was a horrible attempt. It¡¯s like me calling you T D Bullshit. I can¡¯t believe you mangled it that bad. Don¡¯t ever try that again.¡± Redness filled his cheek: ¡°Sorry. I thought I should at least try.¡± ¡°I appreciate it. But yeah, that attempt was terrible. I thought you were the pinnacle of your species¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s not where my skills lie.¡± That response set off another round of table slapping. ¡°You said¡­ Ancient presence who enjoys conversation and happiness at teaching new stuff on a floor covered in runes. ¡°When I¡¯m, actually¡­¡± Joy at conversation, excitement at helping people get skills and age beyond what he could imagine, along with weird floors with strange patterns on them that looked like runes. Side by side, the differences were an ocean. It wasn¡¯t just the bit that he had said wrong - it was a lack of depth in the presentation. It was a stick-figure sketch of a proud four-year-old versus a full-length feature film kind of difference. He could see why she would find it funny. After a moment he joined her, laughing at his own ridiculous attempt: ¡°Sorry, April, I¡¯ll use your humanised name.¡± She wiped the tears from her eyes: ¡°Thank you. I needed the laugh. Now, asking my name and apologising can¡¯t be all that you want to talk to me about.¡± Tom knew there were things bothering him: ¡°The training I¡¯m undergoing. Can you explain?¡± Chapter 20.2 – A Training Accord ¡°Stop,¡± she smiled to take the sting off her rebuking tone. ¡°I can¡¯t comment on that. I believe explaining it to you will have undesirable consequences.¡± He hesitated and tried to read between the lines: ¡°How about I propose what I think, and if I¡¯m wrong, then you can¡­ you know, do something¡­¡± Her eyes hardened, but she said nothing. Tom took that as assent to talk: ¡°My goal is to gain the spear mastery skill, and the scenario and creatures I fight are designed to create the environment to achieve that.¡± She remained silent. ¡°You change the situation up when I do something perfect¡­¡± Her eye twitched. She was a trial administer in the body of an angel. That was not the sort of creature to have an eye tic. He swallowed and corrected his statement on the fly: ¡°You obviously can¡¯t tell if I do a motion perfectly,¡± she smiled, not agreeing, but to Tom she might as well have done so. ¡°But if I do it close to perfect a certain number of times, it¡¯s likely one is perfect according to the system, and then you¡¯ll switch the arrangement of monsters to develop a different form.¡± He finished in a rush. She said nothing for a moment. ¡°I think there might be a light misunderstanding. I¡¯m not here to help you acquire Skills. My purpose is to support your improvement. Sometimes that will be trying to aid you in a Skill acquisition, but not at the expense of your survival chances or future growth.¡± ¡°Good. That means you¡¯ll keep testing me on old skills to make sure I don¡¯t get rusty?¡± ¡°Agreed. I¡¯ll be throwing dynamic scenarios that will demand the use of all your technical skills. It¡¯ll stretch and develop you even if it gets you no closer to getting a reward from the system.¡± Tom nodded at that as he absorbed what she was saying. It made a lot of sense. He knew that it was possible he had not mastered the impaling thrust yet. His accomplishments so far could be as simple as having polished the move to the point of lizard dogs becoming no longer suitable for training; he was a long way from mastering anything. More training would let him polish the other forms, and it was possible that ultimately his perfect execution would only occur in a dynamic situation where he was forced to use a move by instinct. ¡°The problem is my body.¡± He said finally. ¡°It doesn¡¯t match my memories, and reprogramming it is going to kill me over and over again. We¡¯re talking about a significant amount of pain. Trust me, when those things chew on me, it¡¯s not pleasant.¡± She sighed and took a sip of her coffee: ¡°Ultimately, you¡¯re responsible for choosing how to progress. I can¡¯t and won¡¯t force you into anything. I can design aggressive combat strategies that, in my experience, will get you the result you want faster. Alternatively, there¡¯s low risk combat, but you¡¯re still going to die occasionally. Or you can train with static combat dummies and never risk dying. That last option is definitely the slowest.¡± Tom took a sip of his own coffee and hastily put it down. It was strong and didn¡¯t taste very nice; he was surprised she hadn¡¯t given him a cappuccino that he might have actually enjoyed. ¡°It¡¯s a long black. You¡¯ll grow to appreciate it soon enough.¡± She assured him. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever drink it again.¡± She laughed: ¡°Yes, you will. Regarding your problem, spear fighting is not just about completing combat forms, it¡¯s about linking them in battle. Ten thousand hours on the training field will get you the skill, but you don¡¯t have that sort of time. Two to five thousand with direct instruction from a master is another method. But I can¡¯t give you that. However, given the orphanage infrastructure, I would assume you can probably get a trainer there. In here, with you fighting monsters, it¡¯s likely four hundred to a thousand hours.¡± He quickly did the mathematics: ¡°Even with my time dilation that means it could take up to a year, and what is it? A thousand painful deaths. Or I wait and get enough experience to buy the skill within a day of turning fifteen.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t force you to do anything,¡± she reminded him mildly. ¡°But yes, it seems like a strange thing for me to push for. When you phrase it in that manner, my advice seems unwise.¡± She smiled wickedly at him and winked. ¡°I swore an oath. I wonder how that is compatible with my reluctance to explain my reasonings?¡± ¡°Titles.¡± Tom said flatly. The answer was obvious. If someone told you how to get a title, then, even if you completed potential thousands of hours of effort to win it, you wouldn¡¯t receive it. It was a part of the GODs no arbitrage rules. She said nothing for a while: ¡°Tom, do you trust me?¡± He snorted: ¡°With that oath, I would have to be an idiot not to.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not explaining the reasoning, but my recommendation is to go with the hard course.¡± Tom shivered. If he invested ten hours a week, it would take one to two years. Could he do twenty half-hour sessions every time he visited? Or even more, to reduce the time further? She claimed she couldn¡¯t explain the reasonings, but he could guess most of them. She was not an idiot. The all-out battles of the hard path would do more than just develop his spear skills. Life and death battles were messy. There would be moments where supreme spear skills would shine, but there would be other instances that would lean on acrobatic abilities, tumbling techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and probably his ability to push through pain. She had told him that fighting here was like being trained in a safe place, but the immediate feedback of failure against monsters would force him to push himself harder than even he could manage in the training arena. That desperate struggle to survive would lead to system rewards. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Shit,¡± he cursed as he imagined how many times he was about to die. ¡°I guess I have no choice. I¡¯ll do it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± He expected to be immediately transferred to another fight, but nothing happened. ¡°Finish your coffee,¡± she ordered and pointed to the cup that he had taken only a single sip from. She arched an eyebrow. ¡°I thought you trusted me.¡± Tom scrunched up his face at the coffee: ¡°It¡¯s not very nice.¡± He complained, but he did as instructed, and sipped once more. It had cooled slightly, but was still bitter and unpleasant. ¡°How does something that smells so nice taste like this?¡± ¡°Stop whining. Personally, I like the taste. Now ask your other questions.¡± ¡°When I¡¯m fighting for my life, my technical execution often deteriorates. How will you manage the risk of me creating bad habits?¡± ¡°For one, I¡¯m not sure the system is so black and white. What¡¯s perfect for one person won¡¯t be so for another. Second, if your form deviates too much from the baseline, I¡¯ll adjust the type of challenges you¡¯re facing.¡± She grinned at him, and he shivered slightly and the inherent death and pain that correction would entail. ¡°My main concern,¡± she continued more seriously. ¡°Is the psychological impact of fighting and dying under a GOD¡¯s shield. That can breed some terrible habits, from suicidal disregard for one¡¯s life to being overly cautious. Both of which are horrible flaws to introduce to a competition species.¡± Tom shut his eyes. A thousand plus deaths and coming back to life straight after. He could see the problem with that. ¡°And how do you manage that risk?¡± He couldn¡¯t believe he was talking about this particular subject matter in such a detached manner. This was his life, his pain, and his suffering. She smiled slyly: ¡°Drink your coffee.¡± He realised what she meant and stared at the drink. It looked perfectly normal. He took a sip. It was still bitter, and he couldn¡¯t feel anything happening to his brain. ¡°You should see your face.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing suspicious about the coffee. Unfortunately, it¡¯s not magical, but a consistent routine, a debrief after every couple of deaths, will help.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to be my therapist.¡± ¡°Therapist? Your description, not mine. And is it so hard to believe that a million-year-old entity who has done this with your species presumably hundreds of times would be able to do that kind of role?¡± ¡°And you¡¯re sure that fighting and dying is for the best? Even with the GOD shield issue?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been moderating these trials for thirty-two years. When people graduate, I ask them to come back and give me an update on performance, current levels and their titles. That gives me real data, and allows me to measure who did the best in the real world and adjust my training plans accordingly.¡± ¡°But does everyone return?¡± ¡°Of course not, but those who do tell me what they know of others. Dimitri here, for example. The caretakers in the other towns also come in once a week to update me. I¡¯m more than aware of how my past students are doing.¡± Tom thought about that: ¡°At best you¡¯ve got, what, one generation of usable data? Your approach is hardly optimised.¡± The angel shook her head: ¡°It¡¯s better than you think. Everyone got an individual training program. Some I pushed immediately, others when they turned ten, and some never. I have solid data on the performance of almost five thousand people. Statistically, that¡¯s enough to give me confidence in most of my actions.¡± That was way too many people. Tom¡¯s mind rushed. There were three towns. His town had fifty per year, and from what he knew the others were similarly sized. There were only ten to twelve years of history to put into the model. ¡°How?¡± he asked. ¡°How is there five thousand children? Even if you¡¯re linked to the other orphanages, it doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± ¡°The birth rate had been higher previously.¡± ¡°Higher?¡± ¡°Both the rate and the population,¡± she clarified. ¡°The population was most likely the more important factor, and that resulted in four times as many babies being born each year than currently.¡± Tom didn¡¯t press any further. He knew there were probably only a hundred thousand people left. Thirty years ago, there were over three times that number, so that drop made sense. As for the rate¡­ He remembered how those two at the start had been talking. They had seen having kids this late in the process as being useless, and it was possible that many other people would share the same opinion. He took another sip of the drink. The bitter taste was growing on him: ¡°You mentioned something about earning skills.¡± ¡°Yes, I did. I have some seed credits and access to the GOD¡¯s auction house. That allows me to buy and sell materials without breaking the anonymity rules. Which in turn means that, provided you can achieve at least fifty percent value add, I am authorised to purchase an item on your behalf and then allow you to improve them. Once complete, I sell, and the profit is then funnelled into allowing me to teach you the tier one or zero skill of your choice. We can repeat it as many times as you have capacity for.¡± Tom¡¯s mind went blank. This couldn¡¯t be happening. ¡°Wait just a moment. You want me to do crafting?¡± ¡°Yes, but that fifty percent value add requirement is a hard threshold to meet. I need to set you up with skills and materials and be confident of getting a return. It is something some people never manage, so I have rules in place. You¡¯ve already met some of your criteria around the likely work effort; however, a minimum affinity of over fifty in at least one field is required.¡± ¡°I know my affinities. Those of Earth, Lightning, and Healing are well over fifty.¡± The angel hesitated: ¡°I still need to check. I accept that that¡¯s what you¡¯ve had, but they might have changed. Usually, they only move a couple of points, but some people lose their affinities entirely, and there¡¯s also a chance you¡¯ve gained a new one.¡± He went to argue, but Social Silence stopped him from speaking. He forced himself to take a step back and think to read between the lines. Between Social Silence and her expression, she knew something. ¡°What aren¡¯t you telling me?¡± A big grin crossed her face: ¡°There are lots of things I¡¯m not telling you.¡± ¡°The affinities?¡± ¡°Lots of things about them, too.¡± ¡°You know a secret.¡± He accused. ¡°I do. But better you see the changes for yourself before I share it. I want to do a test. It¡¯ll tell us your five highest affinities¡­ and put you in debt of a thousand credits.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all it costs?¡± he asked. It really wasn¡¯t a lot at all, at least once he had access to earning experience. ¡°How long will that take me to pay back?¡± She shrugged unconcerned: ¡°Initially months, maybe a year. By the time you¡¯re twelve, it¡¯ll hopefully only be a couple of weeks¡¯ work. Possibly even a matter of days. Do you agree?¡± He hesitated. ¡°I advise you to accept.¡± If she was recommending something, then he really didn¡¯t have a choice. ¡°Well, let¡¯s see what¡¯s changed?¡± Chapter 21.1 – Affinities April clapped her hands with excitement: ¡°I knew you would be up for it. Discovering one¡¯s affinities is always fun.¡± ¡°I know mine.¡± She ignored him. Suddenly, a slip of paper appeared in her hands. She studied it intently, and, for a moment, she looked stunned: ¡°Um¡­ wow, that¡¯s very interesting.¡± She peered at him. ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to you than I expected.¡± Tom stared at the scrap of paper: ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°These are the results of the ritual.¡± She waved the hand holding the paper, and he glimpsed its contents briefly. Six lines with his lightning affinity were listed in the middle. But that was all he had time to read. The process she had used to create the results didn¡¯t make sense to him. He cleared his throat: ¡°I¡¯m a little confused. Don¡¯t rituals need preparation, fancy lines in the dirt, chanting, infusion of power, that kind of stuff?¡± She looked at him incredulously: ¡°Tom, I expected better from you. We¡¯re in my trial. My control over this space is near-absolute. I could make kilometres of ritual infrastructure appear under your feet and then unmake them the next second. Which is what I did, and you didn¡¯t notice.¡± She laughed. ¡°Anyway, this contains your results.¡± She waved the paper. ¡°Do you still want to see? Actually, you definitely want to see it, and you¡¯ve already agreed to the price.¡± She handed it to him. He read it quickly. Tom Mark Brayshaws top five affinities: Precognition - 95 Earth - 87 Lightning - 84 Wood Shaping - 78 Healing - 71 Tom stared blankly at the piece of paper. ¡°This isn¡¯t right. I don¡¯t have precognition abilities¡­ and¡±, he pointed at the relevant line. ¡°How is it¡­ How is it so high? I don¡¯t understand.¡± There were other discrepancies as well. He had lost five points of earth, and that fact had almost halved its strength. Lightning had a slight boost, and healing a more significant jump. But it was the two new affinities that troubled him the most, especially the precognition one. April smiled at his confusion: ¡°What you¡¯re seeing is a known phenomenon.¡± ¡°Do you mean that all reincarnators get precognition?¡± She looked shocked at that suggestion: ¡°No, absolutely not. That particular affinity is rather rare. Only one person who has come through has even had it, and they hadn¡¯t been reincarnated. Besides, even for them it was only forty-five. I meant that reincarnators getting a new affinity was common. I¡¯ve seen them get Wood Shaping dozens of times.¡± ¡°That one¡¯s new for me too,¡± he confirmed. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°I expected as much. It¡¯s a known quirk¡­¡± she stopped looking thoughtful. ¡°No, that¡¯s not the best way to describe it. It¡¯s a known benefit that soul-bound items are lost when you¡¯re reincarnated, but they often grant a high affinity for the type of magic they use as a compensation. Given your obsession and technical expertise with spear fighting, I would hazard a guess that in your last life you had possessed a soul-bound spear. Furthermore, given the strength of your affinity, you probably got it early and upgraded it a couple of times.¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± He muttered, but his focus had returned to the precognition line. His mind raced, trying to understand it. ¡°I don¡¯t get this.¡± He stabbed the paper again. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a precognition artefact, unless¡­¡± He looked up at her in excitement. ¡°I have holes in my memory. Do you think that¡¯s related?¡± ¡°No, that doesn¡¯t make sense, but¡­¡± she licked her lips and studied him like a scientist would a bug under his microscope. ¡°Maybe if it was a divine level item; then it would make sense.¡± She didn¡¯t look at all convinced. ¡°But ninety-five is¡­¡± she licked her lips, again. ¡°Let me put it this way, the highest newly-obtained affinity I¡¯ve seen is eighty-six. They had a single-purpose, soul-bound legendary artefact they got from a trial, and it only gave them eighty-six.¡± Tom¡¯s eyes went back to the piece of paper once more. The affinity level of precognition was too high. ¡°Are you sure my results are right?¡± She inclined her head slightly: ¡°There¡¯s no doubt. I¡¯ve double-checked and then quadruple-checked the precognition one with two other testing mechanisms. Cost me more than the quoted price to do so, but I figured it was necessary.¡± She snorted. ¡°One of those said the affinity was actually ninety-six, which is even more terrifying.¡± ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± Tom stammered. ¡°Ninety-six is approaching the levels GODs have.¡± ¡°Yep. The highest affinity I¡¯ve measured in this human-only trial was ninety-three. You know my age, and the highest I¡¯ve ever come in contact with was ninety-six. Mind you, its owner was two thousand years old and had invested the treasures of an entire civilisation to grow her air affinity.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Your new affinity, given it is precognition, is at least ten times more valuable than any affinity I¡¯ve seen in a human. In fact, it¡¯s the best one I¡¯ve ever seen, period. It¡¯s worth way more than an air affinity of ninety-six.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine, but what does this mean?¡± ¡°Profit,¡± she said immediately. ¡°And as for your future, maybe you should refocus and become an oracle.¡± Tom¡¯s entire psyche rebelled at that thought: ¡°No. Never! I¡¯m not doing that.¡± He snapped. He knew he had never wanted that type of role, but the revulsion he felt went beyond what he could consciously remember. The theory about this being related to his missed memories was making more and more sense. Nothing could make him go down the Oracle road. He had a build, and he was going to execute it. April across from him raised her hands to calm him: ¡°No one is going to force you to do anything you don¡¯t want to, and definitely not me. However, an affinity that high is an opportunity, no matter how you look at it. Top line dodge skills and vital abilities like danger sense will be obtainable. Even for a spear warrior, this is a good outcome. Out of interest, did you have any of those Skills in you last life?¡± ¡°I had a dodge skill,¡± he told her quietly, remembering his fate based black dodge ability. ¡°Have you lost it?¡± ¡°You know I have. It would have been obvious if it was still active.¡± ¡°That might have partially contributed to the new affinity. It¡¯s theorised that lost skills, traits and titles can also take part in forming an affinity.¡± ¡°The dodge ability explicitly had no precognition. It was its flaw. This affinity did not come from it.¡± ¡°Curious.¡± ¡°I did have a precognition trait that I got from the contribution store. It was called DEUS¡¯s Chosen.¡± ¡°The one you still have?¡± ¡°It used to be at a higher level.¡± That got her attention. She tilted her head to the side: ¡°How many questions were you getting per day?¡± ¡°It was eight.¡± She perked up. ¡°Days between each question.¡± He finished. Her excitement vanished, and she shook her head: ¡°That¡¯s not enough¡­ not even close. My guess remains that you somehow soul-bonded with a mythical or divine-level artifact.¡± ¡°But why would memories of something like that be blocked?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She shrugged helplessly. ¡°Maybe it was cursed. However, the past doesn¡¯t matter, and it¡¯s a moot point in any case, as I lack the tools to extract lost memories. We need to focus on what this affinity can do here and now. Short-term, it means profit, and long-term¡­ well, it¡¯ll make obtaining precognition abilities naturally a lot easier, and, believe me, that¡¯s usually nearly impossible. Unfortunately, I won¡¯t share any of the methods that can be utilised. But you¡¯re clever. I¡¯m sure you can work it out.¡± ¡°Blanket all senses and then try to dodge,¡± Tom guessed. April only smiled at that suggestion. Chapter 21.2 – Affinities ¡°Something like that,¡± April agreed finally. ¡°Techniques that give a normal person a one percent chance of gaining a precognition skill will be a near certainty for you. Hail Mary attempts for higher tiered abilities usually fail, but in your case, I guess, you¡¯ll have good odds to get it. I can¡¯t stress how amazing this opportunity is, and you should beg, steal or pay for any available historical records from established native tribes to make the most of it.¡± Tom froze as the reality of what she was telling him finally sunk in. He kind of knew all this, but when he had come into Existentia, he hadn¡¯t possessed an affinity in the low nineties. Leaning on his affinities for skill acquisition hadn¡¯t been an option, so it was not something he had researched. Unable to help itself, his mind raced. He leapt from idea to idea as he considered all the different abilities that he would want to attempt gaining. Three, maybe four-period danger sensing that would let him know about threats to his life - seconds, minutes, hours, days, possibly weeks in advance. Hell, with that level of affinity, maybe, instead of a being a feeling, his danger sense would allow him to have glimpses of the future. What else could he do? ¡°You need to research methods to gain precognition skills,¡± April stressed. ¡°Your own ideas are good, but getting proven methods is better. Invest time in this. It¡¯s the most important thing you can do. You¡¯ll want Danger Sense, Future Glimpse, Precognition Enhanced Dodge, Advanced Identification, Party Threat Predictions and Treasure Sense as a minimum. I¡¯d also consider some specific oracle-aligned skills like Encounter Prediction, Innate Preparedness and Omen Path Guidance.¡± She finished breathlessly. He shifted on the cushioned bench and thought about this. Most of those skills wouldn¡¯t change his core build, and he understood their value. Even buying these skills in the experience shop was worthwhile. The affinity, while boosting his chances of acquiring them in the first place, would also increase their effectiveness. Most people got a scattering of these abilities, despite lacking a measurable affinity. Tom didn¡¯t know the exact mathematics, but he imagined that, for most people, Danger Sense granted half a second warning of a mortal threat. That was enough time to trigger a lifesaving movement, ability, or defensive treasure. In his hands, the same ability would be completely different. What was in scope for him would change. He was sure he¡¯d get a prod about minor things, like if he was about to stub his toe. Then, if there was a real threat that might kill him, instead of half a second he¡¯d get a handful. Theoretically, that extra time would let him escape without burning skills with long cool-downs. ¡°I¡¯ll do that,¡± he agreed quietly. He had no desire to be an Oracle, but being a better spear-warrior, assassin mage, or treasure hunter were advantages he was happy to sign up for. ¡°As you get older,¡± she frowned. ¡°The orphanage should be able to provide opportunities that could help you acquire the dodge and danger sense skills. At least, they did so in the past. I can¡¯t comment on its current operations, but I don¡¯t see why that should have changed.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll look into it.¡± He promised. ¡°Now,¡± she snapped her fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s talk skill acquisition.¡± ¡°I¡¯m very interested in that topic,¡± Tom assured her. ¡°Possibly more so now than a few minutes ago. Can you help with the precognition ones?¡± She smiled: ¡°No, I can¡¯t help you with getting a precognition skill using the guidance method. That¡¯s something you¡¯re going to have to address yourself. The GODs shop only has tier zero and one items. All the precognition skills are tier two or above.¡± ¡°And what if I source a skill stone?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t afford that.¡± Tom suspected she was right, but it was worth asking. If any of his past companions were alive, he was sure they would be happy to source high-tier skills for him. ¡°And if I can?¡± ¡°If you provide a stone. I can transform it into guidance, but you have to understand that my methods aren¡¯t perfect. You might never get the skill if you go through me. But if you use the stone directly, acquisition is guaranteed.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Tom shrugged: ¡°But with an affinity of ninety-five, how likely would failing to get it be? Should I give it to you?¡± He watched her. This was not a question about precognition abilities; it was a roundabout way of finding out about titles. She bit her lip: ¡°Yes; provided we have at least a year of time remaining, pushing that through me might be for the best.¡± Tom did not smile. That was a confirmation that gaining abilities, particularly high levelled ones, was linked to valuable titles: ¡°How about helping me gain these skills via simulated combat?¡± She frowned thoughtfully: ¡°Anything I can create will be deadly. You will die in them, and for benefits, at best it¡¯ll be equivalent to your standing blindfolded and having three kids throwing pebbles at you. I don¡¯t recommend doing it here. Now, stop distracting me. Let¡¯s talk about how you¡¯ll earn the credits to repay me for the ritual.¡± She snapped her fingers, and the table was filled with various knickknacks. ¡°You¡¯re going to be crafting one of these, and probably repeating it hundreds of times, too.¡± Tom scanned them, looking first at a series of small crystals. Precognition-Attuned Crystal ¨C Tier 1. Contains a small amount of precognition-attuned energy. Useful in crafting. There were crystals there for all four of his higher affinities. Healing must have been deemed to be too low for him to add sufficient value. These were clearly the simplest of items, so he focused on the jewellery, bracelets, rings, and amulets. Bug Zapper ¨C Tier 1 Defensive artefact rated to fry twenty tier-three insects. And then there was the example with precognition built in. Intelligent Bug Zapper ¨C Tier 1 Defensive artefact rated to destroy twenty tier-three insects. Will ignore any insects that are not going to do material damage to you. i.e. nonvenomous ones. Venomous bugs that you already have immunity to are also excluded from the active effects. This feature greatly increases lifespan and makes this defence superior to most when in an area where only a small proportion of the insect population carries debilitating or lethal venoms or infectious vectors. Tom remembered his first day in Existentia, when they had besieged by thousands of wasps. These wouldn¡¯t have helped then, but if you were exploring and the bugs were a secondary threat, they would be a pleasant quality of life bonus. Across from him, April clicked her fingers. ¡°Don¡¯t get lost in the details until I¡¯ve explained how this process works. You are capable of getting over the fifty percent value added hump for all these items. There are two types of effort. The first is the refining of base materials. Basically, shaping rock or wood into more useful forms and potentially increasing its quality as you do so.¡± ¡°Is that like Earth Manipulation?¡± Tom interrupted. ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s a skill, so doesn¡¯t require mana. The skill can also improve quality. You¡¯d need a separate spell for that, one which is too mana-intensive for you to consider.¡± Tom whistled: ¡°That sounds valuable.¡± She waved that reaction aside: ¡°It¡¯s weak. Too weak for combat. You¡¯d have to advance it all the way to tier five before it could even compete with the tier zero spell version. Of course, if you manage to progress it that far, it¡¯ll effectively become a pseudo-domain, because everything is free. Anyway, stop distracting me. Your ability to concentrate puts me on a timer.¡± ¡°My what now?¡± She laughed: ¡°You¡¯ll become bored soon and want to go and hit something and I need to finish this before then.¡± She stuck out her tongue. ¡°As I was saying, you can shape base material into more useful versions, and the second method is to infuse specific energy into an object via a skill.¡± ¡°Not a spell?¡± ¡°Doing it via mana would get results faster, but mastering the skills will be a lot more valuable long term. Specifically, I recommend you make this.¡± She held up an elaborately shaped bracelet. Artefact: Trapped Danger Sense ¨C Tier One. This bracelet has a single charge of the tier 2 ability Danger Sense. It provides a single warning to help you avoid an otherwise mortal or crippling blow. Bracelet will break after use. ¡°This, according to my calculation, has the highest-expected value add per hour of your time, but there¡¯s a downside to going down this path.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Cost. I charge five thousand credits for each base skill that I give you, and to make this you would need wood shaping, ritual crafting, and precognition infusion.¡± He whistled at that price. ¡°That¡¯s fifteen thousand. How long will that take to pay back?¡± ¡°My estimate is six hundred hours of work. If you split your time in here between this and spear mastery, then in a year you¡¯ll be positioned to start doing new things.¡± ¡°I presume I could do a stone version. Why would I do wood? My earth affinity is higher.¡± ¡°Because wood holds the charge better, so there are greater profits. More importantly, I think wood shaping will be superior long term. You¡¯re going to be able to create and enhance your spears. I know you can make them out of stone, but for most things wood is going to be best, especially given your ability to infuse elemental damage into them.¡± ¡°You mean my newly-acquired ability.¡± She didn¡¯t respond. But she also didn¡¯t need to. It was an obvious conclusion to draw: if he had ten years of experience making bracelets, infusing his magic into future weapons would be easy. ¡°Still, it¡¯s fifteen thousand.¡± ¡°Tom,¡± she interrupted him. ¡°I strongly recommend you do this.¡± He sighed. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get started.¡± Chapter 22 – Skill Development April took another sip of coffee. Tom stared at her, confused. As far as he was concerned, their conversation was over. ¡°Why am I still here. Shouldn¡¯t I be sent somewhere?¡± She shook her head and looked pointedly at his coffee: ¡°We finish our drinks first.¡± ¡°That¡¯s-¡° She pointed, and it was clear she was not going to change her mind. Resigned to his fate, he picked up the coffee cup with a look of distaste and took a cautious sip. It had cooled significantly while they had been chatting. If she wanted them to finish¡­ Without hesitation, he gulped it down and recoiled slightly at the taste. Annoyed by the experience, he crashed the cup down hard on the table like he would have done with the empty cup after downing a beer in front of his mates: ¡°I¡¯m done.¡± She smirked at him. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± She took another dainty sip of coffee. Annoyance flashed through him. ¡°Really? You can¡¯t be¡­¡± ¡°No, not really.¡± She chuckled and the cups of coffee both vanished. ¡°But we¡¯re not quite finished here. I know you¡¯ve used skills in the past, but you almost certainly never understood what you were doing. I¡¯m sure every previous skill was gifted to you by the system.¡± Tom agreed with that. Even the skill he had earned had ultimately been awarded to him. It had been gifted as a pat on the back, to acknowledge that there were multiple times he fell when chance should have killed him, but didn¡¯t. ¡°Think about what you¡¯ve done when you triggered a skill. Can you honestly say you understand anything about the process?¡± He did not argue with her. April had far more experience than him, and was oathbound to do her best for him, too. Her advice was like precious nuggets of gold, so he thought hard about what she was asking. In his memories there was a clear blank spot in the skill execution process. He could recall perfectly both how he had triggered them and how they ended up acting in the real world, but everything between those steps was a blur. That contrasted with his regularly used spell forms. When it came to them, he had thought he knew everything, and only when trying to recreate them had he discovered how shallow his knowledge had been. But ultimately, while it was shallow, he had at least possessed it. That was not the case with skills. Using them had been like flexing a muscle - in other words, instinctive. He knew how to do it, but excluding his earth education, he wouldn¡¯t have had a clue about electrical synapses sending a signal and then individual muscle fibres reacting to them - only the starting point, the command from the brain, and the ending point of the muscle moving would have been known to him. ¡°Spells are external to you.¡± April explained to him. ¡°They¡¯re part of a framework, or, I guess, if put in terms you can understand, they draw on a massively complicated computing language. Create the key, supply the energy, and that framework does all the nuts-and-bolts stuff required to cast the spell, whether it is controlling the electricity or balancing you while you flow. Skills are different. They¡¯re internal to you.¡± She hesitated. ¡°Well, mostly. They all originate from your soul, but some, not the ones I¡¯m showing you, plug into the same framework the spells use at a level that can¡¯t be perceived by most mortals¡­¡± she waved her hand. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. The key bit is that skills come from the soul, and imparting attuned energy is the easiest one of them that you can learn.¡± She tossed him an empty shard of crystal. He caught and examined it. It was yellow, and already containing mana. ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± he asked even as he knew the answer. ¡°You¡¯re going to fill it with attuned energy.¡± Tom frowned at her: ¡°And how would I do that?¡± She smiled: ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m interested in seeing you try.¡± She was giving him a test, and he tossed the small chip of crystal up and down, thinking. ¡°Here¡¯s a free hint: staring at it is not the solution you¡¯re looking for.¡± Tom glared at her: ¡°I,¡± he started to object and then stopped himself. ¡°I was thinking about the best method.¡± He tore his gaze away from her and threw himself into the task. All he could do was experiment. He focused and wished it to be full, then he imagined energy slowly sinking to it. Nothing happened. He focused on his soul interacting with the existing mana and imparting the precognition affinity onto it. There were no perceivable flows of energy, and the crystal in his hand hadn¡¯t changed. Tom was not discouraged. One by one he rolled out another dozen mental images. Some created connections between it and him, others were like a whip cracking to force his power through. None of them worked. The crystal remained completely unresponsive. For a moment, he paused his efforts to try to remember what it had felt like when he had used skills previously. His Spear Skills provided no insights. With them, he flexed something and then they worked. Dodge was just as bad, and Social Silence activated without his conscious direction. With a frown, he looked up and met her gaze. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know how to do that.¡± ¡°Developing skills from scratch is harder than doing the same with spells, probably by an order of magnitude. I¡¯ve factored in three months for you to learn imparting the precognition affinity. It means your time here won¡¯t be pleasant. You¡¯re basically going to rotate between dying grisly deaths and being tortured. Luckily, once you¡¯ve learnt one properly, the others will be easier. The task of acquiring Attuned Energy and then Shaping Wood will take you four to six months together. If you go straight to Shaping Wood, that time doubles. I know that seems extreme, but skills are tricky like that. Luckily, I have the experience to share when it comes to what works for you humans, as it¡¯s different for most species. However, this process will make your time during the trial miserable. Are you sure you have no objections to the plan?¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡± Abruptly, he found himself naked, suspended in a void. ¡°I¡¯m going to be blasting you with three types of energy.¡± April¡¯s voice said from all around him. ¡°Arcane, Precognition and Air. I want you to tell me once you can recognise the difference between them.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The bombardment started, and he suddenly felt pricks of pain all over his skin. Each one was enough to make him say ouch, but they were coming too quickly for that kind of reaction. He stayed mute and forced himself to focus on what was important. She had said months, but he hoped to accomplish it sooner. He had not been told not to, so his magic sensing ability unfurled to try gaining more data on what was happening. ¡°That¡¯s an innate skill,¡± April told him. ¡°You won¡¯t ever see it on a status sheet, but it¡¯s a skill.¡± Tom wondered if that was significant, but then pushed the comment out of his mind, because it was like all the other ones he had previously. He could trigger it and see the result, but nothing else. He would ponder on the wisdom of the observation and whether it had any hidden meaning when he had time. That would be when he was playing with the others and not here, where he was alone and could focus on training. Within the empty void around him, he could sense the little needles of energy appear about five metres away from him and then shoot at him. His experience with his pseudo spark domain let him track trajectories, but that didn¡¯t help him. There was no way to dodge, as it was as though he was suspended in space with nothing to kick off. He just had to stay still and take it. Each of the needles felt like a pinch of pain when they hit, then they rapidly faded to nothing. The issue was they all felt identical. His magic sense was incapable of differentiating between them, and, because the needles struck a fresh patch of skin each time, there was no getting used to it. ¡°Does it have to be so unpleasant?¡± he yelled out. ¡°These things hurt.¡± ¡°Unfortunately, yes.¡± Time passed while being continually pelted. Then, after half an hour, he was moved to watch the recording of the spear master go through its forms. Then he was thrust into a desperate fight for his life. Battles where it felt like he was continuously losing. Then he would be given a break and transferred to the coffee shop. Sometimes it would be to eat a cookie, other times a hot chocolate, and every second time a long black that he was expected to finish. They chattered about his past and the horror of the previous hour receded, and then he was sent back in again. Once more, he was in the coffee shop. The last few hours had blended together into an exhausting mess. He listened to April chatting happily about the similarities between the world Tom had described and the cities built by an alien with a single eye stalk and no limbs, but instead used telepathy for everything. The words mostly went over his head, and, as was his custom he ignored the coffee until it was lukewarm. He grimaced and picked it up. It is time, and all you have to do is to suffer a few quick gulps and the cup would be empty, he thought to himself. Then he would be able to return to training. ¡°Wait,¡± April whispered. ¡°We¡¯re out of time.¡± He froze at that announcement and hastily put the cup down: ¡°Does that mean I don¡¯t have to drink this?¡± She laughed. ¡°This once you don¡¯t. Before you go, I wanted to say that, as far as I understand, you believe that you¡¯ve made no progress.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t feel that at all,¡± he objected. ¡°My spin sideways, forward impale and static impale have advanced a lot. The rest of the forms admittedly have done nothing, but I never expected this to be an instantaneous process.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you perceive it that way, but you know I was talking about the skill training. It¡¯s difficult, and your tenacity and dedication were amazing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s almost a torture. I don¡¯t know how, but the latest needle hurts as much as the first, and they still all feel the same.¡± She smiled sadly at that. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to make progress for weeks, if not months. Acquiring a skill is hard, but worthwhile, and what this process does is teach you to connect to the soul manually. It¡¯s a technical skill that will serve you for a lifetime. Once you¡¯ve done it once, all the rest gets easier.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t complaining.¡± ¡°I just want you to know that you¡¯ve done well today.¡± Abruptly, the world shifted, and he found himself outside the trial in Existentia once more. A hand grabbed him and tugged him to the side. Tom didn¡¯t resist. According to his memories, this was the usual routine, so he allowed Dimitri to move him away. He was guided two steps, so he was no longer next to the trial sphere, before being released to allow Dimitri to move back to his guarding position. Bir appeared, and he steered her away in the same fashion. She looked relaxed and happy and Tom, despite the underlying trauma of the experience, attempted to force his own face to look the same way. The two of them loitered until Pa emerged and then, by mutual agreement, they left to play tag. The days passed in a blur with Tom focusing on his magic. Four days after the trial he received the spell he was targeting. Spell: Alleviate Surface Bruising ¨C Tier 0 This spell allows the healing of surface level bruises with poor efficiency. The next visit to the trial went much like the first, and two days after it he got his first evolution. Spell: Heal Skin ¨C Tier 0 This spell allows the healing of injuries to the skin. The spell was a lot better than expected. The description had dropped the disclaimer of poor efficiency, and it showed in what he could heal. Scratches and low-level bruising took half of the mana to heal as previously. The only disappointment with the upgrade was that his title hadn¡¯t activated to give him a sideways evolution. It was disappointing, but his overall progress was not. He had gained two spells and an evolution in less than three weeks. They were still shitty, but they represented him taking a step, if admittedly a tiny one, and that brought him closer to slaying the dragon. Another few weeks passed with everything going to plan, apart from his hope that he would miraculously acquire the first skill faster than April had predicted. His dedicated training had successfully evolved the lesser spells into Triage Cut, and he had also successfully gained the Remove Dead Tissue Minor spell. His capability to heal himself from significant wounds remained dismal, both due to his lack of mana and the fact that the spells he had learned so far weren¡¯t that great. However, his progress was steady, and the information contained in the isolation rooms was definitely proving its worth. Both completed evolutions turned out to be exactly as it had specified. Tom gritted his teeth while suspended in space and focused on trying to predict what made up each of the projectiles. He was sure he was starting to sense the difference between them. About every fourth needle felt different from the rest. It was as though they were closer to being part of him, while the majority of needles remained unknowable, alien. He was close. He could feel in his bones. There was a jerk of reality. He was in the caf¨¦ once more. April, as usual, sat across from him with her perfect wings and inhuman face. The stress of the last two sessions got to him; with trembling hands, he grabbed the coffee and took a shaky sip. ¡°Fuck,¡± he cursed as the piping hot liquid burnt the insides of his mouth. ¡°Why¡¯s it so hot?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the same temperature as always,¡± April told him, and with a wave of her hand the pain vanished from his tongue. ¡°Why are you so shaken, anyway? They¡¯re just needle pricks.¡± ¡°They¡¯re relentless,¡± he admitted. ¡°Between that and the monkeys taking me by surprise.¡± ¡°I promised you that I wouldn¡¯t let your combat instincts fade.¡± She reminded him. ¡°The lizard dogs were becoming too predictable.¡± ¡°And the monkeys are anything but that,¡± he groaned. ¡°Cheer up,¡± she continued cheerfully. ¡°You¡¯re making progress.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like it. Am I really improving?¡± She stared at him in a disapproving fashion: ¡°Don¡¯t try to use those puppy dog eyes on me. I¡¯m way too old for that to have a chance of working. Also, are you improving? Did you really ask me that? What do you think? That¡¯s what¡¯s important.¡± ¡°It¡¯s really not. My objective skill levels are what matters, as does how well I¡¯m performing against my peers and whether I am I doing better or worse.¡± She glared at him, and, despite her youthful appearance the force of her immense age and her disapproval came through. He stopped arguing. ¡°I¡¯m improving,¡± he admitted. ¡°I think I can even sense some of the precognition needles.¡± ¡°I believe so too,¡± she agreed. ¡°But I¡¯ve only had a connection with about a quarter of them, not a third.¡± ¡°You¡¯re definitely sensing them. I vary the ratio by session, but it was twenty-four percent in the latest. The next step is to absorb them before they hurt you. Once you do that, I¡¯ll take you through the next stage of skill acquisition.¡± ¡°April, I do have a question. This is not about me, but about others. Why is it so painful? I can¡¯t imagine Bir or Pa managing this, even if they¡¯re motivated.¡± ¡°I match the technique to the recipient.¡± ¡°Are you implying that I¡¯m a masochist?¡± ¡°No, this is the fastest method, and you¡¯re tough enough to survive it. I have less invasive approaches for the non-reincarnated ones, and the reincarnated ones who lack your level of willpower. Having said that, I can always dial it down if you want.¡± ¡°Nope, no need. I can do this.¡± He took a shaky sip of his coffee. It burnt his tongue slightly, but not sufficient to cause him to flinch, or he guessed, to require extra healing. Sometimes he wondered if he was pushing himself too hard; but, given the stakes, how could he do anything else? ¡°Stick with it, Tom, and you¡¯ll do great. Now, last session, you were telling me about Bazza from work.¡± ¡°Yeah, he was an absolutely crazy guy,¡± Tom told her animatedly. ¡°Have I told you the one about Bazza and the nail gun?¡± She shook her head and him recounting the story had them both in hysterics. He finished and found his cup empty. ¡°Until next week,¡± she said, and he found himself outside the trial with Dimitri¡¯s hand on his shoulder, guiding him away. Chapter 23 – Side Way Evolution

Chapter 23 ¨C Side Way Evolution

With the trial fresh in his mind, Tom launched himself into a game of tag, and actually enjoyed it for the first time since his reincarnation. Participating in an activity that wasn¡¯t leaving him doubled up in pain was surprisingly cathartic, and he suspected that in his current state of mind he would have probably liked monsters versus heroes. That was how much he had craved some normalcy. The advantage of tag, if he wanted to be delusional about it, was that it might be able to help with the acquisition of skills. If he looked at it cross-eyed, then he could kind of see how it could be part of the process of acquiring a dodge ability. The initial thrill wore off quickly, however, and Tom¡¯s brain returned to the challenge of making himself stronger and, unfortunately, tag was extremely inefficient at achieving that goal. The fact that his current full pool of fate remained unused was annoying him. He had allowed it to build up so that he could double dip in the trial, but that only worked if he actually used the resource. Participating in this dumb children¡¯s game meant the point of fate he had generated post-trial had been wasted. Then again, like the coffees, this diversion was necessary for his mental health. The last twenty-four hours of relative time had been brutal. Pa caught him, so Tom held up a hand and faked clutching at his stomach. Because he was thinking about fate, he noticed that Pa¡¯s reserves had dropped to around half. He had started using fate, like Bir. On the other hand, Tom hadn¡¯t yet spotted any unexplained accidents or seen the larger kid outperforming everyone else. What he was doing with the power was a mystery, and Tom wasn¡¯t about to break character and ask. Revealing that he could sense fate levels was suicidal as far as he was concerned. ¡°Ta, are you okay?¡± Tom nodded, then shook his head and pretended to double over like his gut was playing up: ¡°Um¡­ I¡­¡± ¡°If you¡¯re feeling unwell, then go.¡± Pa pointed toward the nearby toilets. With an alibi set, he retreated to the boy¡¯s restroom and went straight to the cubical which was the furthest from the door. This time he would also push for the title to trigger. Today was the day, he was sure of it. During the morning, he had felt the two spells were close to evolving together. They almost didn¡¯t need any help, but his reserves were full, and with a flood of directed fate the merging was almost certain to be successful. He slammed the bolt of the door home to give him privacy and then pulled down his pants. Cuts cris-crossed his legs; deep, dirty ones. Hopefully, there would be one infected enough for his purposes. He had actively smeared dirt from the compost pile into each of them and then had left them to fester for the last twenty-four hours. That should be enough. With a critical eye, he examined the state of each of them. As he wanted to push for a sideways evolution, for his title to trigger, the wound chosen needed to be perfect. Tom frowned as he studied them. He was glad this stage was effectively over, because the compost was apparently performing as badly as the other attempts. It was probably a natural outcome of the enhanced healing on Existentia, but it was still annoying. All the cuts on his left thigh were healing cleanly. He shifted his attention to the right and sighed in relief. A handful had signs of infection. Red skin spread out from three wounds, while a fourth had visible pus. ¡°You,¡± he whispered to himself, examining it carefully. There was the yellow pus leaking out the edges, visible dirt embedded in the wound, dying skin and even angry red spreading out half a centimetre from the injury. It was perfect. Squeak. Tom froze at the noise of the toilet door opening. Images of horror films filled him. A man with a knife hunting the defenceless child. The victim hiding in a cubical and lifting their feet so they wouldn¡¯t be seen. The person paused at the entry. Clang. The door slammed shut and then footsteps started toward him. Adrenaline surged and he tensed, ready to pull up his pants hurriedly if they got too close. He knew he was being ridiculous; that the mental images he conjured were fake. But it was coming toward him, and what if this was his precognition affinity blending through into reality? You¡¯re being ridiculous, he told himself even as his mind game played strategies to fight back or slide under the walls to the next stall to avoid the enemy. Not that anything he could do would help against an actual assassin. This was not Earth. He was not a mouse trying to escape a cat, instead he was the only daisy left in a hippy convention with a sign saying pick me. Against anyone, competent or not, if they were rank ten or above, he would be helpless. It was too early to react, so he did nothing. The cubical¡¯s door, at a minimum, would buy him a second. The footsteps paused three doors away from him. Then changed direction. There was the sound of a cubical door slamming followed by the noise of a stream of liquid landing in the toilet. Of course that¡¯s what they were here for. Tom wasn¡¯t sure why he had jumped to other conclusions. It was probably the impact of the trial trauma, because logically there had been no reason for his paranoid reaction. Everything told him that, since an entire species had been eliminated for overstepping the bounds and interfering with a competition race, the assassinations had stopped. The only time they had occurred since was when the reincarnated person had been an idiot or, in that one memorable case, not even informed of the danger. Ignoring the person emptying their bladder, he rehearsed in his mind what he needed to do. Today he was merging the spells. With a tiny bit of focus, the two desired spell forms crackled into his awareness. They had no mana in them, but they hovered over the wound, ready to be infused with his magic and to do their thing. One was to sterilize the wound, and the other to remove dead tissue. In his head he imagined the two spell-forms coming together and their sum becoming greater than their individual wholes. Combined, they would form a single spell perfectly. That was what he wanted. The mental image was firm in his head. They would merge, and then his title would trigger to cause a sideways evolution. That is what he wanted and what he expected to happen. Eighty percent of his fate, thirty-six in total, exited his chest. For a moment, it hung in front of him and then it split, with half going to the spell and the rest to his brain. Mentally he shuddered when he saw that and tried not to think about the fate reprogramming how he thought; instead, he imagined it as a helpful force making small tweaks. There would be a bit of inspiration here, some calming and focusing chemicals released there, and a whole host of other little changes that together would add up to a material benefit. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Over to his right, the person left without flushing or washing his hands, and silently Tom counted to sixty. He had spent the fate; now he was giving it a chance to work, because it was well known that using it early could let it build to a larger advantage. If you wanted an arrow to miss, you didn¡¯t want to rely on fate to protect you when it was already on a direct course to your heart. It was better for fate to act before the arrow was released, because you never knew where the most effective path to stop that arrow might come from. Something as simple as the archer bending the tail feathers when pulling it out could negate the arrow¡¯s accuracy with only a point of fate. If you waited until the last moment, the ways you could be saved might be reduced to something freakishly unlikely, like a bird accidentally intercepting the arrow and killing itself. Shifting probabilities that much and that late required a ton of fate. When the door shut, with over sixty seconds having passed, he began the merging process, hoping this time it would work. The two spell forms were very similar, which made overlaying them harder than if they had been different. Energy lines did not play nicely together when they got close to each other. He untangled the strings carefully and forced them to run in parallel. For structural areas, fusing was required, and for that he applied pressure to make them bond into a single line rather than having them wrap around each other but stay separate. A minute passed as he struggled with the process. Sweat ran down his face and his armpits were soaked. The partially-merged spell form shuddered and threatened to break up multiple times, but his focus always got to the right spot in time to stop it from unravelling. His creation stabilised, and he sighed in relief. He studied the spell form he had created thoroughly. It was different from the diagrams he had memorised, so he made a few tweaks to get it closer to what he was expecting. If he squinted, he could see the original spell forms, but otherwise the merging was complete. Carefully, he checked the structure to make sure that each of the thick connections was smooth without any lumps. He discovered a mistake. There was an issue with the frontal brace, a thick curved line like the front of a ship. At a cursory glance it appeared to be merged, but when he inspected it, there were actually two strings of energy twisting around each other. He corrected that error, then checked and re-checked the rest of the spell form. That was lucky, because there was another problem - a minor connection, where a merging had occurred when it shouldn¡¯t have. With a flex of his will, he reversed the fusing and restored the spell to the structure he needed. There were no further issues. What he had created was surprisingly stable, and it took very little concentration to hold it together, which gave him hope that he had been successful. Just like he would have done with a system spell, he mentally directed it down to the wound. Then he brought it to a halt five centimetres above his destination. There was one final step to do before he tested the spell. With a frown, he pulled out the toy knife he had taken to carrying around. The tip was sharp, and he pressed it down at the start of the injury and then pushed it deep and yanked it along the cut. It opened the wound right up, and both blood and yellow pus welled out of it. There wasn¡¯t a lot of liquid, but, because of the infection, there was more than a cut that size should have produced. Dispassionately, he watched the bleeding and noted the pus and dead flesh. Then he infused six mana into the spell and slammed it down on the cut. There was no flash of light, but he could actively see the magic working. There was a fresh surge of blood but what had come through was cleaner, even if it carried flakes of jerky-like flesh away. Ding. Tom smiled as he studied the wound. It was not healed, not by a long shot. But was it purified? Yes, the cut was now clean. It was as though it was freshly-made, instead of being a day old and infected to boot. Satisfied, he used his remaining two mana with Triage Cut to close the large wound more firmly. The two sides of skin immediately closed over to leave an angry red line with gaps in it, as though it had only been partially fixed. It didn¡¯t take a doctor to conclude that it was not even close to being fully healed, even if the bleeding had been stopped. He sat on the toilet, wiped the blood away and waited the six minutes for his measly eight mana to regenerate. Then, after another Triage Cut followed by Heal Cut, the angry red lines disappeared. With a flush, the evidence of his bloody work vanished down the toilet. Grinning, he left the restrooms and went to the dining hall. He could barely restrain himself from going to confirm his success, but for appearance¡¯s sake he decided not to sneak out to find an isolation room. He could wait until tomorrow. When he reached the converted gymnasium, the others were already seated, so he got his food, making a point to just grab vegies and a dinner roll, then went and joined them. These items would be easy on the stomach and help his alibi further. At Pa¡¯s inquisitive look, he rubbed his stomach to indicate it had been sore. He was not sure the other boy believed him, but, as the information in the isolation room kept telling him plausible deniability was all that was required, that was what he gave. Tom picked at his plate and practiced his new spell to remove the other cuts on his legs. Then he went to bed and, twenty-one hours after hearing the ding, he turned up for his next session in the isolation room. The moment the door shut he almost danced over to the ritual to check what the ding had given him. A single point of fate was invested in increasing the chance of the ritual finding what he was looking for. He triggered it, and an instant later the screen updated. Spell: Purified Tissue Minor ¨C Tier 0 This spell purifies the wound of natural contaminants to allow cleaner healing. Sideways Evolution 1: May be focused to force out larger impurities*. *Contaminants must be at or below the tier of the spell to be affected. Tom jumped up and down in excitement. His title had come through and added extra functionality to the new spell. The spell was only slightly better than complete trash, so he didn¡¯t care that the sideways evolution was weak. He was celebrating the fact it existed at all. This was the future. There were fifty plus merges required to get Touch Heal, and if every third merge gave him a sideways evolution, it was possible that his tier zero spell might have a dozen additional functionalities tacked onto it. This one was not, when he thought about it, a bad addition to have. If he was struck by shrapnel or an arrow, the spell would allow him to push the foreign objects out of his body. It was definitely a niche application, but if there were a dozen similar niche applications then, if suddenly combined, they could become a broad upgrade applicable to most situations. It was possible he could emerge from this process with Touch Heal being two or three times better than the base that everyone else could purchase. Tom grabbed his spear and started on his forms. He practiced them daily, trying to capture what he had seen in the trial. As he went through the motions, he considered his next steps. With this latest acquisition, he had all three skills that were required to be merged to create Heal Cut. Based on his experience, that process would take a little under a week, and after that he would need to make a decision on what was to come next. There were another four pathways to complete before he could create Touch Heal, which was his current magical objective. ¡°What were they again?¡± he muttered and paused his movement to recall the precise names. ¡°Heal Organs, Mend Bone, Purge Foreign Substances and finally Replenish Flesh and Blood.¡± Those were the four spells he needed to learn, and he thrust forward with his spear, overbalancing slightly as he expressed his frustration by trying to put in more power than usual. The problem he faced was the steps required to create the base level spells rolling up to those high-level versions. ¡°The core issue,¡± he told himself out loud, ¡°Is that the perfection method requires practice.¡± And that was the crux of the issue. It required practice. To obtain the skills, he needed a ready access to broken bones, or people with a spear through their guts, or those close to death due to blood loss. And that was a resource he lacked. There was no hospital he could volunteer at or an animal or monster farm to at least give him a warm body to experiment on. His canvas, his practice dummy to date, had been him. Progressing Heal Cut had been simple. All that had required was a dagger and a willingness to hurt himself. Knife wounds were safe to self-administer. He was not about to kill himself by accident especially since he was careful where he cut, and the cuts were also easy to hide. For that particular spell, he had an unlimited supply of injuries to heal. These other four paths were fraught with real danger. How could he safely damage his organs? Shit, he thought, that spell included the heart. How the fuck would I about damaging and then healing something like that? With a curse, he stopped his practice to think more deeply on the issue. Brain, heart, blood - they were all kind of critical to his desire to continue living. Hurting himself to develop those skills seemed less than ideal. Was there a better way? Chapter 24.1 – Additional Planning Tom didn¡¯t want to dwell on the unsolvable, but he needed a solution to progress Heal Organs. No, that wasn¡¯t right. He needed a way to progress it safely. There were no simple answers, and there was no way he was going to use his current method on his heart or brain. That was a definite no-go. Trying home surgery on them could kill him instantly, but even the other organs were problematic. He understood how skewed his understanding of human biology was. There was lots of experience with magically fixing what, on Earth, would have been deadly wounds, but there were no years of study to give him a theoretical basis of how everything connected together. Without innate enhanced healing and a ready availability of spells, he didn¡¯t know how far a normal body could be pushed, which was basically what he had now. There was nothing in his Earth years that could help him. He had barely finished high school, though he had to admit his marks had been good for the amount of study he had put in. Tom forced his mind back to the moment and shook his head as he remembered various facts from Earth. Intestines were one of the streams of work under heal organs. They didn¡¯t sound as dangerous as the heart, but even with his education he knew experimenting on them wasn¡¯t safe. As he understood it, if they were breached and not healed properly, sepsis would kill you in a day or two. Not safe for experimentation. It was the same with the kidneys, liver, and lungs. They were all critical and represented the same challenge: a nick might not kill him immediately, but a failure to heal them promptly could have dire repercussions. These were not injuries that he could leave untreated for hours while practicing ineffective magic on them. Or maybe he could do that. Maybe they were safe to experiment on, but the issue was that he didn¡¯t know. And it wasn¡¯t even like Heal Organs was the only problem here. The other pathways he needed to develop had their own difficulties to overcome. Mend Bone, at least, would not be life threatening to train. But if he broke a bone, how could he hide that issue for an entire day while he worked on his spell-craft? Replenish Flesh and Blood would run into the same issues as Mend Bones. If the risk of discovery hadn¡¯t been an issue, if he had been in a safe space, it would be a simple matter of bleeding himself out to a critical - but not fatal - level. The body was as good as designed to allow that, because, as you lost blood, your blood pressure dropped, which made it easier and easier to seal up the wound. However, he didn¡¯t have hours or days where he could hide away to carry out that type of experiment. Purge Foreign Substance, he decided, was probably the easiest and safest to progress. It had its own set of problems, but it he could source materials and went about it carefully, it should be trainable intraday without being noticeable. If he could obtain the resources he needed. Tom looked around the isolation room with added interest. He doubted they would include a roadmap like they had if it couldn¡¯t be used. Everything within reaching distance had been catalogued, but that left a lot of space that he hadn¡¯t explored yet, and that included a row of cupboards at the roof level which caught his eyes.. There was no ladder to reach them, but this place had been custom-built. Their very presence screamed ¡®I contain secrets¡¯. It was time to discover what was on those inaccessible shelves. Hopefully, they would contain something useful, because he didn¡¯t want to depend on the trial to progress his spell-craft; he also had no desire to be attempting to progress multiple affinities in parallel. Exactly that would happen if healing gets restricted to the trial. Then he would be doing crafting, skill, and healing in the trial and something like lightning outside it. Although¡­ A thought occurred to him and he almost smacked himself in frustration. What was he thinking, rejecting the idea of practicing healing in the trial? While his time and fate were spoken for there, his mana wasn¡¯t. Besides, working on the more sensitive activities under the protection of a GOD¡¯s shield was just sensible. It was an obvious place for taking risks, especially since April could probably hurt him in the right ways if he asked. She was very accommodating like that. While he had a kernel of an idea, he had to do the detailed planning. First, Heal Brain. What would it take? What do I need to do? He asked himself. He flipped open the folder and audibly groaned. ¡°That¡¯s bloody ridiculous.¡± He said and then glanced quickly at the door to confirm the room was still sealed. The stone at the top of the door glowed in a comforting manner. With it confirmed that he was safe from outside gaze, he returned to studying. ¡°Why is it so complicated?¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! He felt like hitting himself in frustration. Thirteen base trash spells and then seven mergers were required to get this single subskill of Heal Organs. ¡°How is Heal Brain by itself twice as complex as Heal Cut?¡± He asked and no one, of course, answered his question. He tapped the names of the spells and frowned. His anatomy knowledge was unfortunately lacking. Luckily, he knew from his earlier reading that there was an appendix of anatomical explanations at the back. He quickly flipped through to it. When he noticed it initially, he had firmly rejected the idea of learning it as an unnecessary time sink ¨C after all, why would he want that type of technical knowledge when magic solved everything? In fact, he had wondered why such old Earth information had even been included in the first place. But now that he was engaged in the nuts and bolts of building the spell, the inclusion made a lot of sense. There was only a single sheet of paper covering the topic of the brain, but it was written in size eight text with lots of miniature diagrams. It felt like it was supposed to be read with the aid of a magnifying glass, but he put his complaints aside and absorbed what it had to teach him. Armed with the requisite knowledge, he went back to the hierarchy sheet, and understood exactly what was happening. For the brain, there were five analysis components - presumably because mucking around in someone¡¯s brain or, worse, your own, without knowing what was actually damaged was dangerous. The first of those skills was Macro Mapping, which caused him to wince slightly. It was needed because the brain was not like bone or muscle. If a chunk of it was detached, you had to restore it to precisely the right spot or the neuron connections wouldn¡¯t work. Any damage had to be rebuilt exactly as before, or you would be doing brain damage to the person. In addition, there were four more equally important, but less dramatic, analysis tools that covered all the components necessary for brain health. They checked the health and functioning of the blood-brain barrier, the integrity of brain fluid, located dead and dying cells and, finally, one that functioned on a level below cellular to locate broken synapses. From his primer, Tom knew how vital each of those steps were. They could, he also understood instinctively, be developed without hurting himself. That changed things, Tom realised. At least for Heal Brain, over half of the development did not require the trial. The entire diagnosis suite of spells, along with the ones that were concerned with fluid health, he could safely test on himself. The enormity of what he was planning struck him. Momentarily, he lowered his head and cupped it in his hands. He was almost five-years-old, and starting a project that wouldn¡¯t be complete for months, potentially for years. It was a massive undertaking, but not one he would relent on. But the child in him (and the man too, he admitted after a moment of introspection) wanted results now. Heal Cut, when it was created, would be useful for his fighting. Tom was very glad he had focused on it first. Ideally, he would want the same level of utility from his next set of spells. Another thought struck him, and he felt like hitting himself again. The process of developing his spells was the same situation that April had highlighted with his skills. The order he did it in would influence how long the process took. It was almost certainly why she had explained the skill acquisition in such detail. That meant there were multiple consideration on what to do next. What could help immediately? And what would help him gain his abilities the fastest? Both were important, but the first was ultimately limited by his eight mana. There was no way he was going to get the resources to do brain surgery in the immediate future, or fix a heart, or even mend a shattered bone. What was useful didn¡¯t matter; instead, he needed to focus on finding the optimal path to lower his time investment. Once more, his eyes were drawn back to the hierarchy sheet. That the first eleven lines were dedicated to Heal Cut. Internally, he whistled. Although there were coincidences, the orphanage setup was meticulous, and Heal Cut being at the top of the page felt deliberate. The order was not random. The positioning of Heal Organs proved that. It was right at the bottom, with brain and heart being the last two within that section. It wasn¡¯t a series of hierarchies, copied down blindly from the experience shop. Instead, it was a roadmap, a plan that the readers were expected to follow from top to bottom. His eyes went back to the top of the sheet. Purge Foreign Substances followed Heal Cut, and after it Blood and Muscle Replenishment. That was the order he would follow, with one change. In the trial, he was regularly bleeding to death, which meant conditions were going to be perfect to experiment with Blood Replenishment. He would take advantage of that within the trial, and outside of it he would focus on Purge Foreign Substances. Energised, he set about memorising the wireframe diagrams for Marrow Overdrive and Emergency Pressure, which were two of the four spells that fed into Blood Replenishment. It took him half an hour to embed them both in his memory, and he planned to use the future isolation room sessions as a refresher to ensure they were well and truly ingrained by the time of the next trial. With that done, his eyes turned to the cupboards above him. Chapter 24.2 – Additional Planning If he was right about the hierarchy, there had to be a way to inject the contaminants into himself somewhere in this room. There was lots of storage space up there. They ringed the room, including directly above the doors. ¡°I wonder what treasures you contain?¡± he asked out loud. Given the attention to detail that had gone into constructing these isolation rooms, there would be something up there for his purposes. He was sure of it. The isolation room, Tom realised, had disturbingly high ceilings. They were at least a metre higher than ones he was used to on Earth. A typical adult, without the enhanced attributes they got in Existentia, would not have been able to leap and touch it. That was how high they were, and the challenge he faced was far more substantial than that. After all, he was only a short four-year-old. The roof was five body lengths above him, and there were no convenient hand or foot holds to assist a climb. Not that he would trust this physique to be successful at something like that, anyway. He needed a different method. With his brain in solution mode, his eyes roamed the room. He sharply inhaled and then, with a mental apology to Dimitri his eyes settled on the toy boxes. Stacked appropriately, those three represented two body lengths of the missing height, and they would provide a stable base for additional construction. Then there were the containers for the weapons and the small climbing framework in the corner. If he combined all those elements, he would be able to stack them high enough. With a sigh, he poured out the content of all three toy boxes and stacked them, two on the bottom layer and one on the second. They were extraordinarily light, given their bulk. They were each almost as high as he was, and fifty percent longer than that again. The climbing frame was placed on the boxes, and then above it went the weapon containers to get the last metre. The makeshift structure soared above him. It kind of had a series of steps, then ropes to climb, then two more steps. Experimentally, he pushed. It wobbled alarmingly, but didn¡¯t collapse. If he was an adult, he would have climbed it without hesitation, backing himself to keeping everything balanced, but he didn¡¯t trust this body. Tom ran the calculations and decided that so much instability was not acceptable. He switched the position of the weapon boxes and the climbing frame. It lowered the height slightly, but he would still be able to access the cupboard¡¯s lower shelves. When he pushed, it didn¡¯t wobble, but if he overbalanced, it would still collapse. Tom disliked the design of the climbing frame being off the ground. He dismantled it, and this time stacked the toy boxes vertically, before pushing the weapon containers up in a hazardous mess on top. It was a complex process. The weapon containers were stacked and stood on to shift the top box, and then the climbing frame was used to push the weapon containers high enough. Finally, he used the wire frame to get up, reorganised the weapon containers into steps, and nodded appreciatively at what he had created. It was solid. If he jumped up and down, it wouldn¡¯t collapse. Having prepared as much as he was going to get, he climbed the last two steps. When he looked back, his feet were two metres off the ground. Tom wasn¡¯t too concerned. Even if he fell, he knew enough to protect his head, and even if he broke his legs, he would be able to crawl to the healing crystal to fix himself. Opening the doors was awkward because his head got in the way, but that was the only difficulty. Curiously, there was no lock, latch, or anything to stop him from accessing the cupboard. He had been expecting some sort of mana lock, or a physical puzzle to solve, to stop the younger children from accidentally opening it up. That lack troubled him. In some ways that was a bonus, because it let him gain access easily. But if it contained what he hoped, why was there no security? He frowned. If they weren¡¯t secured, then¡­ He wondered if he was breaking into empty storage space and then mentally shrugged. He would find out. He leant backwards and swung the doors fully open with the edge of both, brushing his chin and nose. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He sighed in relief. On each of the cupboard doors were was a big red danger sign, including skulls and bones. It screamed stay away even if you couldn¡¯t read. Neatly underneath the warning symbol was a label. Warning. Deadly materials contained inside. No items from this cupboard may be removed from the isolation room. The isolation room will remain locked until all contents are returned, and the cupboard securely closed. Failure to do so in a timely manner after session ends will result in adult supervision being summoned. Note: Due to the sensitive nature of the substances, these cupboards are only restocked on a quarterly basis. That sounded both ominous and promising. Tom couldn¡¯t reach the top, top shelf but he could see the bottom two, and they were both filled with bottles and vials. Excitedly, he reached out and grabbed the closest one and pulled it out to let him read the small label. Tier 2 Frotoic Acid Warning. Extreme caution is required when using this. A single drop is capable of eating through an arm. Tom stared at the label. It was tier two! And it was deadly. It was way too powerful for him to even consider using. A single drop in the wrong place would kill him. If it could burn through an arm, it could do the same to his skull. His eyes flickered over the rest of the labels. Almost every one of them had the skull and bones warning. Strong Alkaline Nectar ¨C Tier 3, Bottled Flame ¨C Tier 2, Lodeaye Contact Poison ¨C Tier 2 There were all deadly. They were the type of materials that should have been secured behind lock and key with a security guard in front of them. These items were far more dangerous than he had been imagining when he had constructed his tower to gain access. Instead, they had been undefended and he, in his tiny, pathetic child¡¯s body, had got access within five minutes. Tom could feel the fury building in him. What were the adults thinking? What the hell were they doing, leaving this so accessible? Sure, four- and five-year-olds probably lacked both the curiosity and the ability to build the structure he had. That was kids his age, but ten-year-olds were locked into this room, too. Bored ten-year-olds were left in here, and there was no way they wouldn¡¯t spot the cupboard and climb up to investigate it. The level of irresponsibility was breathtaking. He wanted to smash heads in. He could feel the red haze rising, but there was no target for it, so it ebbed and flowed as much as it built. It receded slightly but did not disappear rather it settled deeper inside him. Tom shuddered at the feeling of both the rage and the fact there was nothing to direct it against. Whenever his thoughts even got close to thinking about a young child getting access to this acid, he almost lost control. Every errant thought made the fury rise, then discover a lack of valid targets and be forced to drop back down. He felt beyond sick. Tom stared at the deadly vial in his hands while another wave of fury subsided. Nope, keeping this near him was too risky. With trembling hands, he returned the vial to its spot and then slammed the doors shut. Everything contained there was too dangerous to be in easy reach, given the emotions heaving through him. The incompetence was disgusting. There wasn¡¯t one thing capable of killing someone; there were dozens and potentially over a hundred. Nearly everything was lethal, and while there were warning labels, he knew for a fact Bir and Pa couldn¡¯t read and might not even recognise the danger. If they got their hands on even one of these bottles and splashed a drop onto their skin, they could die. In a shell-shocked trance, he checked that the cupboard was closed properly and climbed down. His fury had not dissipated. His arms were trembling, and there was a pressure that filled him. It was the room¡¯s fault. If it was better, there would be no risk. He couldn¡¯t think. The anger was a living thing, it could not be denied. He grabbed the climbing frame and tried to throw it, but it was too heavy. He crashed back, bringing it down on top of him. The corner struck his mouth and teeth. He had to destroy. He wriggled desperately out, breaths like he had just finished a sprint. He wiped his mouth and saw red tinted saliva. Those bastards, what were they thinking, running these sorts of risks? He screamed at the roof. The tiny helpless rational part of his brain was thankful for the privacy and sound cancelling. It was the room¡¯s fault. He kicked the toys on the ground, then tipped the structure he built over. The noise of crashing objects made him grin in feral delight. His back complained at the force he had put through it. Naturally, he ignored it and flipped a toy box over to the music of a larger crash. Emotions ran thick. He punched a wall, once, twice a third time. The plaster didn¡¯t dint. The injustice of them so causally putting so many lives at risk. It wasn¡¯t right. His next punch left red droplets. Despite that, he still threw a fifth. His hand throbbed, and he suspected he had broken bones in his fist along with the skin, but he didn¡¯t care. ¡°Why would you? Why would you, you fucks!¡± He spun and roared. Toys were thrown, weapons scattered, but he forced self-restraint and managed to avoid the book shelves. ¡°How many have you killed?¡± There was no answer. He stopped hitting the walls. It was pointless, and kicking the toys achieved nothing. This was not an enemy he could beat. The rage vanished. Tom collapsed onto the ground and angrily wiped away the tears that had come with his fury. He didn¡¯t know what had happened. The anger had not been his, and the lack of control¡­ he shook his head. That was terrible. He had to find out what that was about and do something to manage it. Chapter 25 – Consequences Once Tom was confident that the rage had vanished, he stood up and absent-mindedly kicked a wooden model of a wyvern. It clattered nicely as it tumbled and crashed into the wall. It was therapeutic. Now that he had calmed down enough to think, his eyes swept the room. It was a mess. Toys, weapons, and containers were scattered everywhere. He assessed everything for permanent damage, but, excluding a handful of smashed toys, nothing appeared to be broken. There was, however, a surprisingly large number of red splashes on the walls. Some had even dried sufficiently to be a brown colour instead of a wet red. It was hard to estimate, but he was pretty sure that the cycles of rage had persisted for over ten minutes. The thickest blood was where he had punched the wall repeatedly, but other smears were a mystery to him. He stared blankly at one that was above the height he could reach. At some point, he must have been standing on one of the boxes and doing¡­ well, he didn¡¯t know what he had been trying. It was kind of like he had been finger painting with a clenched fist. Nope, he was glad he couldn¡¯t remember anything. Whatever thought process had led to that was beyond weird. ¡°What the hell¡¯s happening to me?¡± He sighed. It was not good. Uncontrollable rage and memory loss were not a great combination. His body hurt slightly, but the main issue was how painfully his right hand was throbbing. A visual inspection revealed the broken skin across two of his knuckles, but the way it was complaining told him that the damage was more extensive. There was cracked bone in there. It was a chance to practice his magic. He focused and manifested all three spell forms, overlaying them and letting them bond together naturally. It wasn¡¯t the right path to create Heal Cut, but it would help him understand how the three input forms interacted with each other. He was almost surprised when the mix created something stable. In order not to push his good luck, he immediately infused it with mana and tried to heal his fist. Magic flared, and the flaps of skin shifted to better positions, and the slow but steady leaking of red stopped. Beyond reducing the bleeding, the healing did nothing to stem the continuous waves of pain. They went on, as strong as ever. Being careful not to step on the equivalent of scattered Legos, he picked his way across the room and triggered the healing crystal. The magic flowed through into him in a powerful wave; the partially mended skin shivered, and, in moments, was as good as new. The throbbing pain also vanished. He stretched and did some ghost spear forms. Everything was flowing smoothly once more. Physically, he had fully recovered, but the same could not be said about the evidence of his violence. It was everywhere, and not just the walls. His hand remained caked in blood, and there was evidence of drips on the floorboards as well. There was a small tap in the corner, and he washed himself quickly. Water dripped off his face, running red. Then he used a wet cloth to remove all the patches of blood that he could see; the efforts included climbing on a toy box to clean the areas that he otherwise couldn¡¯t reach. The effort was probably unnecessary, as the cleaning spell would have likely dealt with everything when it triggered. But he was being cautious, and he hadn¡¯t wanted to risk it not doing a thorough job and exposing himself to unwanted questions. It was better to be proactive, no matter how low the risk of the cleaning spell been inadequate had been. The physical mess he left as it was. If traces of blood remained, he wanted to use the explanation of having had a temper tantrum and having cut himself while breaking the toys. That would be normal. Leaving the room tidy while there was proof of bleeding and broken toys would look like a coverup and be suspicious. This way was better, even if he would be growled at. There were five minutes to go before the mandatory two hours were over; he wasn¡¯t in the mood to study, and there wasn¡¯t space to practice his spear forms in. So, he sat on the floor to wait. As he did so, he meditated on what had just occurred. Ignoring the bouts of anger was no longer acceptable. Something was very wrong with him. That overwhelming emotional reaction when he thought about all the children being put in danger was not natural. But nor was incompetency. His hands balled into fists and his jaw muscles hurt from how hard he was clenching them. He could almost hear his teeth creaking. How could they allow access? That stuff was deadly. His entire body was thrumming with energy. He wanted to leap up and explode into action. Who made the dumb decision to put this here? There had to be a safer way¡­ With a gasp, Tom realised what was happening, and forced his mind elsewhere. Desperately, he searched for a topic to distract himself. Michael! He had been a great man and friend. He would counsel calm. He opened and closed his hands, and on the fifth repetition he sighed in relief. The simple effort of unclenching his fist had suddenly become easier. The threat of imminent violence receded, but the underlying problem remained. Unfortunately, he was still out of control. The situation was beyond frustrating. There was a genuine threat, something real for him to conquer, to seize control of and crush beneath his heels - but there was nothing to grab a hold of, to identify¡­ hell, he couldn¡¯t even see it. Even when he was consciously aware of the threat, it had crept up on him and had almost taken him out. How? Why? Who? What? the questions rang in his head. Tom glanced up to where the fist painting had occurred, something he had no recollection of. Then there were those holes in his memories from his last life. Was it related? He remembered the conversations with April. His mind dwelled on the precognition affinity and how ridiculously high it had been. It had been way too strong for something acquired from a reincarnation. Soul-bound artefacts gave affinities, but these were not anywhere near that powerful. It was a puzzle to solve. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Three mysteries swirled around him, and they presumably came from his past life. The power of that affinity, the memory holes, and this curse. All of them, even in the context of reincarnation, were unusual. The anger was some sort of horrible infliction that consumed him if he thought about the wrong things. Anything that pressed his buttons could be a trigger. Like the bloody cupboards being unlocked. If he found out who authorised that, then he would tear out their throats and piss on their corpses. Alarm swept through him at both his bodily reactions and the alien thoughts. He forced himself to his feet. He focused on slow breathing and unclenched his fists into open palms, then deliberately lifted them both and placed them on his head while sticking his elbows out to the side. It was the recovery position one adopted after hard running. It could be a struggle to do, but the posture opened the airways, and once the body realised the benefit, it became instinctive to use after any vigorous exercise.. He spun slowly on the spot while breathing deeply in and out as he sought to calm himself down once more. The curse, if he could call it that, was insidious. It was sneaking up and trying to take over if he relaxed his focus for a moment. Those three unknowns were linked, he was absolutely sure of it. The how and why was not something he could put his finger on, however. He might never be able to solve it by himself. Understanding might need to wait until he found his companions from his previous life so that their memories could fill in those missing moments. But that didn¡¯t mean he had to remain helpless until then. It didn¡¯t mean he had to be a victim. The curse acted in a defined, consistent manner. It activated whenever he saw something unjust; he would first get angry in a perfectly normal fashion, and then the outside rage would sweep in and multiply everything to ten times the intensity. When he had reacted to the white-streak girl, Corrine, it had been fury at Bir getting picked on. Same with the man on the hill, and right now it was children being put at risk. It was pretty easy to see what his trigger was. Callous, mean behaviour, or incompetency that threatened the helpless, particularly Little Ta¡¯s friends, were the primary triggers. The problem was, his thoughts could spiral so quickly that he could be overcome before he set up defences; but that was something to work on. If he were more disciplined, he could have stopped the overwhelming rage, because right now, if he lost control, it didn¡¯t matter - he was a four-year-old. There was only so much he could do with his fists or any other objects he seized. That equation changed once he got stronger and gained some extra skills and abilities. A practice spear could be deadly if it was empowered by Power Strike and Piercing Blow. Likewise, his magic, whether Earth or Lightning, leant itself to offensive attacks. Even if he didn¡¯t kill someone while hulking, the loss of control meant he might reveal his capabilities to the wrong people. A chime went off as the room announced that his time was almost up. The cleaning spell washed over him, and the door unlocked and opened. With his head held high, he strode out like he hadn¡¯t just trashed the room. Dimitri, as was often the case, was outside. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the state that Tom had left it in. ¡°Boy,¡± the adult growled. ¡°What have you done?¡± Like last time, he took the opportunity to run, and sprinted away before he could be caught and forced to clean up. His escape, of course, only lasted twenty-four hours. The next day he had to turn up to the isolation room at the normal time, and Dimitri was waiting for them. He stalked forward. Tom shrank backwards and tried to dodge behind the others, but he was way too slow. ¡°Not you, boy.¡± The large man¡¯s hand easily encircled his arm, and he was pulled away from the other two. A shock of energy passed between them at contact. It felt almost friendly, like they had a connection. If Dimitri experienced the same, no recognition made it to his face and the angry eyes showed no mercy. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me.¡± Bir and Pa looked scared. Pa, bless him, raised his hand like he wanted to object. ¡°No!¡± Dimitri roared and stamped his foot. He pointed at the available isolation rooms. ¡°Go.¡± The objection died, and the two of them ran into their respective isolation rooms. Tom didn¡¯t blame them; Dimitri was pissed. ¡°Boy, what do you have to say for yourself?¡± He froze and for a moment was not sure what to do. He instinctively retreated into his pseudo-system room to allow the Skill to act on his behalf to stop himself from giving away his status. Apparently, the question was a rhetorical one because Dimitri did not pause and marched away. His hand was like a vice around Tom¡¯s arm. Half-being dragged and half-scrambling to keep up, he followed the other man up two flights of steps to an isolation room that he had never seen before. ¡°This is punishment for leaving messes.¡± Dimitri snapped. ¡°I¡¯ve had to clean up after you twice this week. That¡¯s not good enough. This is your room for four days. Learn your lesson. Afterward, you can have a choice again.¡± The door closed with a click and ding behind him, as he was sealed in an isolation room once more. He was not perturbed as he had been half expecting something like this, as the threat had been whispered about, even if he had never seen it carried out before. Curiously, he glanced around, wondering what was different about the room. The architecture was the same, but the bookshelves were empty. Most of the weapons were missing. All the loose items, minus a couple of practice weapons, had been removed. He checked the toy boxes, and was unsurprised to find that they contained nothing either. It was like a naughty corner, a spot to send unruly kids where boredom was the penalty. Tom¡¯s eyes swept around the place. The missing books were annoying, but now that he had done enough research, he found he didn¡¯t care too much. Two hours was not that long and there was a spear even if it was sized for someone a head taller than him. A private room was a private room, and this was as good as any other; he could train his spear forms here well enough. Of course, once he left, he was going to have to pretend to look morose and beg not to be sent back in here, but that was something he would deal with over the next few days. Everything easy to grab had been stripped, but his eyes drifted up to the cupboards. What about them? Had they thought to remove that stuff too, or assumed he was too little and dumb to reach it? Less than three minutes is how long it was required to build the tower. Knowing what he was doing and not having to empty containers out were the main time savings. Then he went up to check their status. Deliberately, he had targeted the same cupboard as previously. This time, he left more room, so the doors opened without him having to contort his body to avoid them hitting him. The instant the gap was wide enough, he saw the same jumble of bottles as yesterday. His first impression was that the vials here were fuller than the ones in the other room and he snatched up the same central bottle that he had yesterday. The label told him it was the same acid, and when he scanned the rest, everything was identical to what he remembered. He had been right: they had not bothered stripping these cupboards. There was stuff for him to do in this room after all, and he wondered if the cupboards contained any restricted manuals, because if they did, given the poisons, they would be interesting. He glanced around the room and then back at the single cupboard he had opened. If this contained this much, he wondered what would be in the other thirteen. What amazing treasures and training aids was he about to find? Chapter 26 – Isolation Room Spoils

Chapter 26 ¨C Isolation Room Spoils ¨C

Tom was happy with his situation. Dimitri might have thought this to be a punishment, but Tom didn¡¯t consider it such for a second. He had an empty room, cupboards filled with mystery contents, and two hours by himself. It was going to be great. He didn¡¯t have to complete a stock take today, since he had been exiled to this place for another three days, but he would give it a try. Unless he felt like practising his spear work, then easy come, easy go. He smiled and turned his attention back to the cupboard. This was amazing. These stockpiled materials were for the reincarnated ones, or else for prodigal children, wanting to push themselves to extremes. Just thinking about what might be hidden in these cupboards was exciting. It all meant that everything here was probably linked to acquiring either an ability or a title. If the latter was the case, he hoped something unusual or unexpected would spark his imagination, inspire him to discover an alternative pathway for self-improvement that he wouldn¡¯t otherwise have thought of. An extra method to accumulate power. ¡°Please let there be something,¡± he mock-prayed. Then he frowned as he stared at the cupboard he had opened up, and at all the other ones with their unknown stashes. So many of the bottles in front of him were deadly, even with minimal exposure. How many of the geniuses found these stashes too early, and¡­ This time, he felt the artificial anger rise and quickly shifted his focus. The purpose of the current cupboard was clearly to provide materials for body-tempering and/or title acquisition. The second part was important, because he remembered his venom title from his last life. Title: Venom Resistance (V): 25% chance to gain instant immunity the first time you are exposed to a new venom. All venoms will do you 25% less damage.
  1. Awarded for: Being inflicted with sufficient venom to kill you five hundred and twelve times in a single day and surviving.
It was a body title, so he had lost access to it when he had been reincarnated, but he was sure these bottles of poisons, acids, and elemental effects were intended to allow them all to gain something similar. The five hundred- and twelve-times threshold in a single day was obviously not possible, and had only been achieved in the first place because of unique circumstances. Tom¡¯s healing ability had allowed him to isolate and only heal the critical systems, while the wasps had kept stinging him continuously for close to a day. It was a monster wave that he had only survived thanks to multiple specialised healers dedicating their time and all their mana regeneration to keeping him alive. Tom doubted those circumstances were repeatable, and, given how close he had come to dying, that was probably a good thing. Here, all by himself, and limited to two hours of privacy with an access to a healing orb, at least for the short term, meant something like that was beyond him. However, absorbing enough poison to kill himself multiple times and surviving was a possibility, and he didn¡¯t need to do it five hundred plus times. The venom title had been awarded at level five. There was no need to aim to reach that level of expertise immediately. A level one title still gave bonuses, and, given how Existentia worked, that should only require him to meet a threshold of thirty-two. That was a lot of poison, but not an insurmountable number, especially since older children were forced to do eight hours inside one of these rooms once a week. While Tom knew the mathematics, others probably wouldn¡¯t, and he wondered how many people only tempered the substance to twenty lethal dose levels per day and never realised what they were missing out on. They might get resistance skills that way, but would forever whiff on the title. It didn¡¯t matter, he knew, and he would not make that mistake. Once he had gained the title at level one, Tom was confident that he would be able to upgrade it by getting a breadth of exposure. That was the most likely explanation for the presence of at least thirty types of poison. The second level would require him being exposed to two different poisons to the same level as the first one had: enough to kill him thirty-two times over. Another four unique poisons would promote it again, and then eight more would get him to a level four title. The cupboard lacked the variety of substances to go further than level five, but he would be happy with a twenty-five percent chance to gain instant immunity and a similar level of general resistance to all poisons - especially if he achieved the same with venoms, acids, elements, curses, and hostile energies. It was also set up to be achievable without needing outside help. The healing crystal in each of these rooms was incredibly powerful. From what he could tell, it was connected into a massive network, because there was no noticeable weakening of the enchantment when he used it, and if there wasn¡¯t a network, then anyone chasing titles could be easily determined by checking the rooms after use. No, it had to be networked, and, given the number of rooms simultaneously occupied, any of which could have children doing tempering, he was sure it had the juice to bring kids with their low vitality back from the edge of death thousands of times a day. Once he had Touch Heal to give himself an extra level of safety margin and got access to longer sessions, he was definitely throwing himself into the undertaking. Ten years seemed an extraordinary amount of time until you got into the nitty gritty about the size of the task. With no mistakes, it would take thirty-one sessions to gain the poison resistance title at level five. A similar number could be expected for venom, curses, acids, basic substances, and probably even more for the various resistances to elemental attacks and negative energies. With a single session a week, once you added up all the activities, you were looking at five years minimum, and that assuming no days would be lost. That was a significant assumption, because it was possible the room you were assigned might be missing the tempering agent, or you could make a mistake by administering too much - or too little - and have to abandon an attempt once you realised it. A lot could go wrong, and one thing Tom knew was that he couldn¡¯t rely on everything going right the first time. Everyone, including him, made mistakes. The moment he had Touch Heal and eight-hour sessions, he would start the process. And Pain Management, he corrected himself hurriedly. Given what April was doing to him in the trial for skill and spear training, that might end up requiring no extra effort on his behalf, but if it didn¡¯t, he would use his knowledge of Touch Heal to gain the ability. In a battlefield situation, he accepted pain rather than wasting mana, but if he was doing his tempering in an isolation room, there was no need to subject himself to unnecessary suffering. With almost two hours to satisfy his curiosity, he methodically moved his constructed tower from cupboard to cupboard and noted what each of them contained. It was a large space and there were fourteen different cubie holes to explore, with each one having three shelves and close to two metres from side to side and a metre deep. A full-sized spear fitted easily within it. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It wasn¡¯t until he reached the thirteenth one that he discovered a written inventory. It was a neatly bound set of papers. Before he examined them, he checked the last cupboard to get his impression of it before turning his attention to the official inventory. Everything was listed there, along with a detailed description of how best to use each of the items. He naturally checked the body, tempering descriptions first, to better understand what the documentation offered. Frotoic Acid ¨C Tier 2. Warning: a single misplaced drop may be lethal. Recommended application method is to transfer two drops into a cup of water. The diluted liquid is then to be painted over all reachable exposed surfaces and reapplied when sizzling stops. Precautions: Ready access to healing crystal. Then, later on¡­ Lodeaye Contact Poison ¨C Tier 2 Recommended dosage is a quarter of a drop onto the little toe. Immediate and sustained healing will be required for ten minutes to combat the spread of the poison. Precautions. If you start seeing glowing spots of light in your vision, then use the supplied antidote immediately. From his knowledge of the venom title, those recommendations were a recipe. When he did the mathematics, he realized Lodeaye Poison would take a minimum of five hours of application to reach the exposure levels required. Tom decided for safety¡¯s sake that he would do twenty percent more than the one recommended: ten percent on dosage and ten percent on the number of applications. That thirty-two number, he noted was carefully, was not mentioned anywhere. Then again, they didn¡¯t need to spell it out. You only had to be successful once, because after you got your first title in these series, the key numbers would be stated, and you could work out future patterns for yourself. The advantage of being a reincarnated one couldn¡¯t be clearer to Tom. An adult would never be able to do this tempering, because even if they knew what they had to do, their vitality would stop them. When Tom had died, his vitality had been so high that he was not sure tier 2 poisons would have still worked on him. Even if they did, he would have needed thirty times the volume that a child required - possibly a hundred times, if the calculation was related to both mass and vitality, which was likely. No, the titles he would be able to chase as a child were far superior to those available to adults. Not to mention that the inability to level effectively forced him to focus on these peripheral activities. He flipped back to the index page.
  1. Body Tempering Supplies. Cupboard: 1 to 4
  2. Elemental Spell Aids. Cupboard: 5
  3. Magic Spell Aids. Cupboard: 6
The Elemental Spell Aid section contained a series of artefacts that created magical effects clearly designed to help gain skills. An example was something that served the same purpose as the Bunsen burner he had used in science class, but it was more advanced and didn¡¯t require a gas line. There were three dials that independently governed power, heat, and the size of the flame produced. By adjusting the settings, you could create the perfect conditions to advance or create a fire manipulation spell or skill. That was not the only ingenious design included. There was something for everything Tom could think of. For magic shield creation, there were artefacts that would shoot weak magical missiles at you. Better still, they could be adjusted to change the frequency. From his own experience of crafting, he knew how the efficacy of the shield could be boosted by constructing it from the right element and then tuning it. The fact they had supplied the perfect object to practice that skill was an example of how carefully the orphanage had been planned out. Which made the lack of locks on these cupboards even more surprising. Why? That thought kept reverberating in his head. There was something he was missing about the setup, and that frustrated him no end. The next set of contents raised a completely different set of questions.
  1. Cupboard: 7-8
  2. Cupboard: 10-11
Why were these available? They were there to be used in fights, so the more precise question was where were the monster sources that the older kids had access to, because when the index described them as weapons, that¡¯s exactly what they were. They were not toys or practice versions - each of them were sharp, deadly and designed for violence. Which meant there were monsters the kids had access to. Tom thought about the door in the gymnasium. The one the older kids noticed but pretended not to. The snatches of conversation, their fear and excitement when they discussed it. If there was a source of monsters, it was down there, and he wondered how to go about getting permission to explore what it offered. If normal children even with weapons were allowed it couldn¡¯t be that dangerous. The fact every set of armour was way too large for him also factored into that decision. They looked like they were designed for teenagers, with the smallest set possibly being useable by an eight or nine-year-old; though even it was probably intended for a short teenager rather than anyone that young. All the armour had been locally manufactured instead of it coming from a loot portal. No effort had been made to enchant them with any unique abilities. That was not a result of a lack of care, but apparently a deliberate design choice. They each had low level sizing functionality and an increase in durability. If the crafter could do that, they could have done something more exotic. They were all tier one, but Tom could see their quality and suspected that they were right at the peak of that classification. More deliberate decisions made for unknown reasons. He guessed it was only a matter of time before he discovered why. Following the weapons was more stuff that held even less interest for him.
  1. Crafting tools. Cupboard: 11
  2. Crafting supplies. Cupboard: 12-13
They contained exactly what they promised, with the tools all being tier two while the materials were a mix of mundane and tier one. Once he got his wood-shaping skill, Tom might consider taking some of the wood to practice with, but until then, nothing there interested him. The final cupboard had more potential.
  1. Cupboard: 14
The trinkets were a variety of simple rings, necklaces, chains, bangles, and three spatial storage objects with a footnote stating they were only replaced annually. He immediately went to the cupboard to check them out, but the two items he was interested in - a necklace and a ring that could both be concealed - were both missing. Only the spatial pouch was still present, and that was not something he could just steal and lug around. He was disappointed, but understood why they were gone. If there were other reincarnated ones out there, then they would think the same thing as he did, and having a hidden spatial storage was a trump card. The rest of the trinkets didn¡¯t interest him, though he was amused to find a version of the danger sense bracelet that April was going to get him to craft. He wondered whether his creation would be more powerful because of his high precognition affinity or not. It was uncertain whether the precognition-tinted mana or the accuracy of the danger sense ritual drove the performance of the artefact. He guessed it didn¡¯t matter. What he created would go into the GOD¡¯s shop and disappear. Purchasers would be sold the standardised versions rather than the ones he crafted. Satisfied with his understanding of what was available, he carefully dismantled his tower and returned everything to the correct spot. Once he had created Heal Cut, he would rebuild the structure each session to gain access to the materials necessary to progress Purge Foreign Substances. Then, having over forty minutes to waste, he grabbed the singular spear in the room and, despite its awkward length, executed the spear kata shown to him in the trial. There was a ding, and he put away the weapon. The cleaning spell was triggered, and, when the door opened, there was no one to greet him. He set off to locate the others. Chapter 27.1 – Increasing Activities Tom was separated from his friends when he left the isolation room, but, to maintain his persona, he had no choice but to track them down. Anything else would have been out of character. They were like a millstone around his neck, and he wasn¡¯t sure how to deal with the problem. If Bir hadn¡¯t already demonstrated such outrageous talent, then he would have ditched them without question. Not today, but slowly, over the next couple of months. But her potential put him in a bind. Did he go solo and focus on himself? Or did he have a responsibility to humanity? Would it gain extra ranking points if he dedicated some of his time to help her out? Was guiding her to become powerful part of his job? There was no way to answer this now, but it was an issue he found himself pondering on the regular. Was it selfish to not be a loner? Could he justify spending his training time uplifting these kids? It would feel good to help others, but was it right? Which path would deliver the most ranking points: prioritising himself or dragging others up with him? He wished his trait was unlocked, as that would have been a brilliant question to ask it. A simple yes or no answer would have been able to give him clarity. Should I ditch them or not? As it was, he remained unsure, and decided he would chat with April about it. After descending the stairs, he went straight to the gymnasium, figuring they might be there for the fort, or the food or the bubbles. As he entered, he stopped. That is not good, he thought. He wanted to walk away, but his feet rebelled and forced him to watch. He frowned. Internal alarms went off. You will not intercede, he yelled at himself in his head. You will not break cover for anything this minor. Ma was surrounded by a group of eight year olds. Her spell ring was out of charge, and they were not being gentle. Five of them circled her like a pack of hyenas. They were poking her from behind and laughing when she whirled to face them in anger, only to have someone on the other side repeat the movement. This is not your fight, he reminded himself. She probably brought this on herself. He thought, to try and stop his anger from rising. But he was not sure he believed it. Ma wouldn¡¯t be stupid enough to start something like this. Their laughter was like crackles of a deranged witch, taunting her. Snotty Ma was living up to her nickname. Tears ran down her flushed face and nearly clear snot dripped from her nose in two streams that crossed her mouth. She was angry, flustered, and humiliated¡­ he was, Tom realised, seeing the tail end of a confrontation, not the start. His breath hitched, and he clenched his fist. Children, he reminded himself. This was a disagreement between children. There was no reason for him to get involved. They were behaving disgustingly, but they were not throwing punches, and intervention would be stupid. Even if successful, it wouldn¡¯t solve the underlying social dynamics. Nor would it be effective. He was in a four-year-old¡¯s body, and even with his years of fighting experience, he could not beat five people twice his age. One versus one, he would back himself, but to outnumber with them all? They were outweighing him by so much he wouldn¡¯t have a chance in a brawl - and that¡¯s what it would quickly become. ¡°Let me go,¡± she yelled and spun. One pushed her in the back, and she stumbled but the boy she fell towards supported her to prevent her falling. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Tom took a step forward before he could stop himself. If they were escalating, he would¡­ He forced himself to breathe in deeply. While one had pushed her, the others had looked annoyed at the action, and one had even helped. That small bit of kindness did not register with Ma. She screamed louder in response to the escalation inherent in the push. Tom was paralysed with indecision, but one girl saw him watching. She grabbed the friend next to her and drew him away. That triggered the end and four of them left while the fifth stayed beside Ma and gave her hug while she whispered some words in her ears. As she did so, she gestured for Tom to leave. He hurriedly obeyed and when he glanced back, he saw the older girl and Ma walking toward the drink station together. Tom returned to his search and eventually found the other two practicing against combat dummies. He was stunned to see it, but threw himself into the game. He didn¡¯t have the opportunity to check the settings, but it was a suitable one for their age. They had probably joined the course after some older kids had left and hadn¡¯t lowered the difficulty. The combat dummies spun fast; they must have been programmed to help develop dodge or acrobatic skills. When he was too slow, he was knocked heavily to ground. There was a healing crystal in the corner that they had to use after most runs. They stayed for hours. Pa in particularly seemed to love it. Four days passed, and he successfully merged the three precursor spells to form Heal Cut. The moment he was alone in an isolation room he used the ritual to reveal that part of his status screen. He frowned. Spell: Heal Cut. Cleans and heals cuts through flesh and skin. Sideways Evolution 1: May be focused to force out larger impurities He had evolved it with the help of a full fate dump, and had been hoping to add to the sideways evolutions. Instead, only the earlier one had been inherited, with no extra functionality added. He felt like hitting something in response to the surge of disappointment. He had been so sure that with the fate investment he would get another sideways evolution. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t seem like it was going to work like that. He hoped that his earlier one wasn¡¯t a fluke, and that he would get more soon. He had dozens of mergers before obtaining Touch Heal, and even a bad ratio like one in five would give him lots of extras before he reached the first milestone spell. With the new spell confirmed, he turned his attention to the other pre-requisites of Touch Heal. He glanced up at the cupboards that ringed the top of the room. It was time to train Purge Foreign Substances, and then his annoyance deepened as he stared at the cluttered room and the full toy boxes. Building a tower in a normal isolation room, Tom realised, would be problematic, given his terrible physical attributes. With a sigh, he poured the toys out of the boxes, then put the weapons out of their containers. Then he built the same structure he had previously. Rebuilding this daily was going to be a pain. He wasn¡¯t at that point yet: the next three spells he wanted to create - namely, Identify Foreign Substance, Specialised Barrier Skin and Grow Skin - could be developed with minimal input. Only the first one even required specialised help. and that was weekly access as opposed to daily - or, at least, that was his guess. After that, things were going to get difficult. Tom considered that problem as he reached the section that contained the aids to help with the first spell on his list: Identify Foreign Substance. There were six bottles. Inert Substance 1. Completely safe and will remain localised at injection point. The other five bottles had similar descriptions, and, in the book, the recommended dosage was fifty microliters once per week. Tom injected himself in four locations and then cycled through the other five substances. Job done, he closed up and clambered down. Since it was already set up, he repositioned the tower to check on the artefacts. However, the storage items he was after were missing, which did not surprise him at all. Then he stared in dismay at the mess his activities had left. It was too early to throw a temper tantrum, as he didn¡¯t need access to the cupboards daily. But he knew that, when he required that access, he would do exactly that. Throw and break toys in order to get exiled to those clean rooms. Not all the time, of course, as he still needed to reference the Healing Domain roadmap and the wire spell forms drawn within it. If he could engineer it, he would have four days in the clean room followed by a couple here. Dimitri, he acknowledged, would hate him. Annoyed with the need, but acknowledging he had no choice, he spent over forty minutes tidying everything up. Chapter 27.2 – Increasing Activities Then he practiced his spear forms until the timer ran out. The next day at lunch, Dimitri walked over to their two tables. ¡°Everyone, from tomorrow, your routine changes. In addition to afternoon isolation rooms, there¡¯ll be two hours of communal education. For now, it will be reading, mathematics and general knowledge. Then in two weeks¡¯ time, we¡¯ll start practical training courses on every second afternoon as well.¡± There were groans from all the kid¡¯s tables. Tom was not surprised at the revelation. From his observations of the orphanage, he had already concluded that this was coming. The five-year-olds, the ones a year older than him, had seven hours of organised activities per day; ten for the older kids, though some of the supervised time was closer to elective sports than study. Dimitri doing this now made sense, because if they were back on earth, Tom would be approaching the age when they would normally start school. ¡°Meet here tomorrow after breakfast.¡± Dimitri ordered. The following day, Tom turned up to the first class and there were twelve volunteers who proceeded to start teaching them to read. It was too much for him and he retreated to the pseudo system room to ensure his understanding of the written language did not reveal his special status. Dimitri took the next class: ¡°Who here knows about the competition?¡± Almost every hand in the room was raised. ¡°And who here understands the stakes?¡± Tom left his arm up with most of the other, children. The big man frowned. ¡°I assure you that you don¡¯t. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware of the ladder placings, but none of you comprehend the very real consequences of failure. If we end up in the last few places, do you understand what that means?¡± ¡°New people won¡¯t get city.¡± A boy piped up. Tom winced. ¡°That¡¯s outcome, but not cost. Failure means deaths. Not one, not ten, not thousands, not millions, but billions.¡± Tom felt the chill that accompanied those words deep inside of him. That would include Mum and Dad, friends, Em, his little sister. The consequence of failure was absolute. ¡°It¡¯s everyone¡¯s job to earn ranking points, and I do that by volunteering here. In five years¡¯ time, I¡¯ll go back to adventuring, even though it will probably cost me my life, because every ranking point is precious, but for now I¡¯m here to help you become more powerful. Who here knows how to get stronger?¡± He went around the room, and there were a variety of suggestions. ¡°Better muscles.¡± ¡°Master the obstacle course.¡± ¡°Become good at swords.¡± ¡°Develop skills.¡± ¡°Titles,¡± Pa said next to him. ¡°Exactly.¡± Dimitri pointed at Pa. ¡°And what do we do to help people earn titles? Do we tell people the steps?¡± ¡°No,¡± almost everyone yelled back. ¡°Do we hint at them?¡± ¡°No,¡± they all roared. ¡°Do we tell people we have them?¡± ¡°No.¡± Dimitri nodded: ¡°Precisely. Titles are the best path to strength and how to get them is a secret. The only thing I can tell you is to do lots of things, take risks, work hard, and perfect stuff you¡¯re good at.¡± Tom shivered at that risk part. The cupboards, the lairs, the climbing frames without protective spells. From most points of view, this place was deadly, but as far as he could tell, no one had died or disappeared. That was based not only on the last few weeks, but on Little Ta¡¯s memories as well. That was curious. Then a thought occurred to him. Was it possible that the new human racial trait was responsible? What proportion of the daily prayers went into ensuring none of the children here were killed or badly hurt? The lack of injuries and deaths suggested the town was making a substantial investment. The cupboards alone proved that. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Another week and a half passed, and Tom found himself in the trial once more. The monster, an amalgamation of a monkey and a metal elemental, charged him once more. To hold it off, he thrust forward. It halted its rush. Its sharpened metal arms crossed themselves fast in front of its chest, and targeted his probing weapon. Too quickly for him to react. The shaft under his hand jerked as the end of the spear was lobbed off. It backed away, giving him a few more moments before he succumbed. His muscles were screaming in pain, and he could feel his concentration failing. He was lightheaded, which meant the blood loss was probably worse than he had thought. Too many cuts were covering him for him to think about healing. Heal Cut was efficient, and none of them were deep, but there were probably hundreds at this stage. A couple of points of mana could close most of the slashes on his right arm, two more for his left, but if he did that, those on his torso and on of his legs would still be left bleeding, and more importantly, it wouldn¡¯t progress his magic directly. But he was losing the fight. When he looked at his hand, it seemed like his natural skin tone was red rather than his normal slightly tanned colouring. The rest of him, he knew, would appear the same. He pumped the spell that refreshed his red blood cell count. The spell worked, but not well enough to cause a ding, though he felt a burst of energy in response to the extra blood flow. His legs were no longer so wobbly. Unfortunately, he was still bleeding, and Refresh Blood Cells was not a spell he could use twice in one battle. It was a temporary boost, no more. The fight had to end now. The monkey thing was coming at him. Its metal arms would be invulnerable until Tom gained Power Strike or a more powerful skill, but its flesh-and-blood body was fragile. Potentially it was more so than that of the versions from earth. It weighed far less than him, so all he had to do was to land a hit. It was a stupid plan, but a plausible one. He glanced at his weapon and, like it had all the times before, it had been restored to its full length. As the monster came at him, he committed fully. He remembered the last encounter. It had sliced off his spear end and that happening now was the best-case scenario. Luckily, Tom didn¡¯t think he needed a sharpened tip to hurt the creature. His plan relied on him losing the top foot of his weapon. But if he lunged further and scored a hit with the remaining section, he might be able to leverage that into a more comprehensive victory. His muscles flowed through the unconventional form. There were no partial commitments, no way to pull back. He was a hundred percent decisive. He just needed the thing to stand its ground like it had done in the previous engagement. Tom grimaced in frustration. It was crouching instead of pushing forward. It was a different posture than in the last encounter. It dodged to the side. He hit nothing and stumbled helplessly. Then it was on top of him, its sharpened arms slashing down at his throat and trying to decapitate him. The world blinked. He was sitting at the coffee table with both of his hands pressing into his split-open throat to try and keep the blood in. His mind registered the location, and he pulled his shaky hands away from his neck and looked at them. They were spotless, without a single smear of red on them, let alone the torrent he had imagined. The God shield had activated. He was safe and alive, despite his recent memories warning otherwise. ¡°What you tried then was ridiculous.¡± Tom replayed the battle and his desperate manoeuvre. It had felt like the right choice at the time, but the odds had been worse than with a coin flip. He sighed, lowered his unstained hands, and met April¡¯s eyes: ¡°I know. But I had already lost, and it only dodges seventy percent of the time. That lets me claim victory one time out of three and, given the position I was in, that¡¯s pretty good.¡± ¡°Less than that. You do know there are defensive spear forms and not just offensive?¡± ¡°Of course I do.¡± ¡°Just checking, because sometimes¡­¡± He stared at her suspiciously and remembered the rest of the fight: ¡°You think I¡¯m relying on the GOD¡¯s shield and learning bad habits.¡± She nodded. ¡°I could have played that last encounter defensively, but, given the way I was bleeding, not to mention my prior blood loss, fighting cautiously was a guaranteed death.¡± ¡°Absolutely. Your mistakes came earlier. Even against something like that, I shouldn¡¯t have to be restoring your weapon multiple times every fight.¡± ¡°Yes, you could give me a proper spear and then it wouldn¡¯t get destroyed so easily.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t blame your tools. Someone aiming for spear mastery ought not be making those mistakes. That was a shit show.¡± Tom lowered his head. ¡°I know. Everything is so hard. The fights are relentless. Am I making any progress?¡± She hesitated: ¡°Statistically, you are better at estimating that than I am.¡± ¡°Just answer me, April,¡± he yelled and then stopped himself, embarrassed. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s only that.¡± His hand touched his neck. The trembling was barely visible, but he was only halfway through his time here. ¡°This is just so hard.¡± ¡°I understand what you¡¯re going through, and I¡¯m confident it¡¯s the best play. You¡¯re on track to get the skill in forty weeks or so. That¡¯s fast.¡± He put his head in his hands: ¡°Shit, I don¡¯t know if I can keep this up.¡± ¡°Drink your coffee.¡± He did as instructed, and the bitter taste grounded him like it usually did. The slight trembles vanished completely. ¡°You¡¯re ahead in both spear mastery and your skill acquisition. The trial sessions will get a lot easier once you¡¯ve fully mastered precognition energy. That¡¯s only a couple of weeks away.¡± He took another sip. He hated the taste and he wasn¡¯t sure that was going to change, but the sessions themselves, he loved. Ten minutes later, he finished their light conversation. Refreshed, he went back to training. He hung in the void with needles of energy assaulting him, and around forty percent were precognition flavoured. For those, he focused on absorbing them while, ignoring the others for now. Chapter 28.1 – History of Humanity

Chapter 28 ¨C History of Humanity

The days passed. If the school in his first life had been annoying, then being taught to read again, and to be forced, at the mental age of over sixty, to pretend to enjoy picture books, was agonising. The rest of his life had improved. He wasn¡¯t sure what had happened, but Bir and Pa had, with only a little prompting from him, moved away from playing figurines, spying, or bubbles. Basically, they abandoned everything he had hated and were now throwing themselves into more active pursuits. Yes, they were still kids - they ran, laughed, and had heaps of inane conversations - but usually while doing something physical. Pa was obsessed with the obstacle course, while Bir was happy for an excuse to test fate in a dangerous environment. She loved the safety it provided. It could save her from herself, and she was taking full advantage of that. She was continuously attempting ridiculous feats of agility, like leaping onto a spinning obstacle and holding on until she slipped, so that she landed on top of another rapidly moving tree trunk arm. That, in turn, would have the effect of propelling her up to the destination she was aiming for. It was absolutely ridiculous. It was the type of challenge attempts that Tom, with the extra strategic planning of his adult mind, would have considered impossible ¨C unless, of course, he supplemented himself with fate as well, and he wasn¡¯t going to spend that precious resource on something so mundane. He was glad, though, that Bir was using fate for a positive purpose rather than on pranks. The reasons for the shift in their behaviour didn¡¯t matter. The result made his days far more tolerable, because, excluding lessons, they were better now. He winced as he remembered reading practice from earlier. He had been forced to pretend to be unable to read, the cat sat on a mat while there was a picture of exactly that right next to it. Others had struggled through similar pages, so he had to pretend to do the same. Dimitri rapped his hand on the desk. Tom jumped slightly and focused on him. ¡°As I was explaining, we will be starting formal physical activities in cohort from next week. Morning session will go from two hours to three. Now, today we¡¯re going to learn about...¡± He paused what he was saying to write ¡®Key Events¡¯ on the board. Tom looked blankly at the words along with everyone else and tried to act like he couldn¡¯t read them. Inside, he was secretly jumping up and down in excitement. This was the information he needed, especially as it had the potential to affect his build. ¡°I¡¯m going to describe all major events of the last fifty years.¡± Dimitri finished and smiled at the class. ¡°A lot has happened, but these are the important parts.¡± He scribbled on the board, even though no one in the class could officially read. There was no hidden information in what he wrote for reincarnators either, so he figured Dimitri must be doing it because of habit. Probably learned it while teaching slightly older kids. ¡°Event one was the Champion Race Trials. The champion teams of humanity were presented with the opportunity to enter a trial. Four teams adding to thirty-two people in each of the three trials. It was a mixed quest, puzzle, and combat trial with a race through zones to reach the centre. Or, at least, that was official description. Unofficially, they were a trap set by dragons, insects and giants for other four races. Everyone died in one, and less than fifty percent survived in the other two. Overall, two thirds perished. To illustrate that point, if this class went into the trial then all of you to right of here,¡± he indicated most of the people in the room. ¡°Would have been killed.¡± There were gasps from everywhere. ¡°I suspect, even if given odds of survival before start, all those champions would still have volunteered.¡± Dimitri was not wrong. His group had known the likely mortality because of an oracle question and entered anyway. Even if it was certain death, Tom would have gone in, if the reward justified his early removal from the competition. He was pretty sure everyone else would have done the same. ¡°Yes, death ratio¡¯s was high, but it was worth it. Survivors jumped thirty ranks. That was them getting the benefit equivalent of four-to-eight years of grinding in six months. It was very much worth it. Those with boosted rank saved ten times as many lives as were lost in the trial, a number of humans groups would have been lost completely if those champions hadn¡¯t been there to save them. Despite everything, it was considered a positive for humanity. Am I boring you, Bir?¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Next to him, Bir jumped in her seat and pretended to be alert. Tom tried not to laugh at her as she was shaking her head vigorously like it would make up for basically falling asleep. Dimitri stared her down until she flushed and lowered her head with red cheeks. Tom spotted the small smile on the volunteer¡¯s lips. ¡°The benefit to communities was important, but the greatest success were the survivors from the true trial of champions. The primary trial, so to speak. They chose not to go back to their communities, but undertook a quest. It is said they it got from DEUS.¡± Tom wanted to jump up and dispute that. That was his idea, not a quest from DEUS! ¡°We don¡¯t know what they did. They¡¯ve never provided an account, written or otherwise. We¡¯ve learnt a lot. They revealed how the trial was a trap. They gave details of our competitor species, and said they were on a quest, and from gaps in those earlier letters, they may have tried to communicate more and were stopped.¡± ¡°How?¡± Dimitri stared at the boy who had asked the question: ¡°At that point, humans lived in small, isolated villages. We could only send messages through auction house, and it¡¯s since been proven some ideas and concepts can¡¯t be sent through it. We suspect, but can¡¯t confirm, that their plan was one of those forbidden topics. Four years later, every human received a series of notifications that they had earned forty million ranking points along with additions to human racial trait. They are why we¡¯re still in the running for top four. Those racial trait changes have kept us in touch with dragons.¡± ¡°What did they do?¡± the same boy as earlier asked. Dimitri shrugged. ¡°None of them speak of it. Keikain, a priest of DEUS, is only one who even acknowledges being part of that group and he only says that they were guided by DEUS.¡± The big man frowned. ¡°That¡¯s what he says, but he¡¯s a priest and they¡¯re all fanatical, so we can¡¯t trust that explanation.¡± Tom snorted in laughter and barely turned it into a coughing fit before anyone noticed. Keikain fanatical? Tom wasn¡¯t sure Dimitri could have come up with a worse description. After the choice he made, while he thought he was being guided by DEUS, Keikain was anything but devout. Him becoming a priest was purely a transactional decision. Tom knew that was a fact, because he had been there when their group had made it. ¡°What did they do to get the trait?¡± the same boy as earlier repeated. ¡°Do? Um¡­ At the time we didn¡¯t know, but we now understand what is required to receive a racial trait and it¡¯s¡­¡± Dimitri frowned. ¡°Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s not pleasant. They don¡¯t talk about it for a reason, and given what they brought humanity, none of us pry.¡± The lecture switched to the next event, and while Tom still listened, he tuned out slightly. Cam, he discovered, had fought a ten-year war against an aggressive tentacled monster that lived in shallow swamps and eventually eradicated them by diverting a river. Without the water flowing into their breeding ground, they had died off. The lecturer finished, and Tom repeated his routine. The next day, Dimitri once again took the second educational block. ¡°Once more, we are going to continue with the theme of history. This time, I¡¯m covering the human timelines.¡± He only got through the first five years of humans in Existentia, but successfully, in Tom¡¯s opinion, conveyed the struggle of the period: the lack of a home base, the forced nomadic lifestyle, being driven into becoming raiders to get food for those on the edge of civilised land and scavengers for those who weren¡¯t. The next day he took up the timeline from where he had finished previously. In total it was a full week of lectures to cover the fifty years. The caretaker basically broke it down into distinct periods: desperate survival and exploration that lasted seven years, internal trade routes for another five, then the start of town and tribe consolidation, the assassins, then the creation of an organised adventuring guild that supported trial farming, and then, in the last fifteen years a switch to include environmental engineering to let them have a larger impact on the fabric of Existentia. Of those, Cam had been the most successful, but he was not the only one. ¡°Are environmental disasters good?¡± The usual chatty boy asked. Dimitri thought about it. ¡°Creating them deliberately is an uncomfortable concept for lots of people from earth. However, they have been useful, and there are five or six multi-decade efforts that might have a massive impact.¡± The big man was grinning and responding enthusiastically. This was clearly a topic close to his hand. ¡°I consulted on one. We¡¯ve built a gigantic dam that we¡¯ll unleash on Adoalac Lands. They¡¯re a terror race. The dam is nestled between mountains. We¡¯ve constructed a wall to block a massive river. The construction is six kilometres long and half a kilometre high. Every earth mage we had was brought into help. It¡¯s hard to imagine how big it is but it was damning a massive river and its going to take thirty years to fill up and then we¡¯re going to destroy them.¡± He smiled happily. ¡°It¡¯s these projects that make me think the human position on the ladder is not as bad as the raw numbers imply. That dam, with some coordination with nearby civilisations, should allow us to eradicate the Adoalac.¡± Dimitri went back to his planned lecture. Chapter 28.2 – History of Humanity In the afternoon, Tom reported to the clean isolation room when it was confirmed it was secured. He grabbed the bottle that he was going to use. Quitona Venom ¨C Tier 0 Causes intense pain in a localised area. Doubles the area affected every fifty minutes. Non-lethal. He licked his lips. This was more powerful than anything he had injected to date, and he hoped the extra challenge it presented would help him merge the two spells together. Carefully, he used the syringe to extract the recommended dose of ten micro litres and then increased it to twenty ¨C the more the better. Then he injected it into his forearm. Immediately it felt as if he was holding a red hot poker against his skin, but the intense burning pain did not reduce. It was a magical pain that defied common sense. Even while he was holding the arm still, it waned and intensified in waves that defied any attempt to get used to. Basically, it performed as expected, and time would not dilute its impact. ¡°Please, work!¡± If his barrier attempt failed, then his entire arm was shortly going to feel like it was being continuously dunked in boiling oil. His eyes flicked to the healing crystal. It would help, but he had already determined that while it was good at bones and flesh wounds, its ability to purge nonlethal substances was sub-standard. ¡°You¡¯ve got this.¡± He told himself and the radiating pain from the tiny spot on his arm reminded him he didn¡¯t have a choice. He was committed to the attempt. Tom wanted Skin Wall to evolve with a sideways evolution. He needed that to happen, and he knew how close the manually constructed spell forms were to reaching perfection and granting him the system-assisted spell. Earlier today, when he was practicing, the spell forms had combined so well that he had been worried that it would be considered to be perfect, trigger the granting of the spell, and in doing so neuter his chances to get a sideways evolution. He didn''t know the percentages, but his gut told him that when an intent to create a sideways evolution with fate was active, the success would be of a magnitude more likely to achieve that aim as opposed to relying only on the title. The title''s wording suggested to him a three to four percent chance with each merge or evolution to a higher tier skill, but with fate he thought he could probably boost that to one in three. Being successful at a practice cast was wasteful. Having formed a strong mental image of his needs, he emptied his entire fate pool and then mentally rehearsed what he planned to do. The healing domain pages were on the ground in front of him, open on the wireframe diagrams of the spell he aimed to generate. He compared his memory to the paper. There were no differences. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Then he looked at the tiny spot on his arm that was generating such powerful waves of pain. The two spell forms that he wanted to join were created next to each other over the spot. Then, with his mind, he forced them into the same space. He was well practiced in the process, and flexed his will to merge lines - or to keep them apart - as the diagrams required. Then, in meticulous detail, he went over the partially-merged spell forms and compared them to the paper in front of him. The waves of agony from an area no bigger than a needle point helped him focus. The spell formed, and he pushed it to surround the spot. Cells from the skin expanded downwards, linked together to create a seal and trap the venom. The pain stopped. Simultaneously, he heard a ding. He smiled, while maintaining his focus on what he was doing. A miniature scab had appeared, and with a sharp knife, he flicked it out of himself. It was a cylinder, twice as deep as it was wide, and it left a small hole in his arm, one around the size of a grain of rice. It had dinged! Even as it started to bleed, he grinned. It had dinged, and now the only thing left was to confirm whether the sideways evolution had happened as he hoped. He slapped his hand on the healing crystal. Its energies flowed, and the wound disappeared without a trace of pain. The venom he had injected had been trapped and expelled. Excitedly, he used the ritual to check what he had received. The screen updated almost immediately. Spell: Skin Wall Skin cells can be attuned and used to grow a barrier to trap venoms, poisons, curses, and foreign energy. Sideways Evolution 1: Skin wall can block foreign substances a full tier higher than proficiency and energy invested in the spell would usually allow. ¡°Yes!¡± he exclaimed as he jumped up and down. ¡°Yes! It did it.¡± It had worked, and better than he had expected. Tom reread the wording of the evolutions. It was a cracker, and far more powerful than the other one he had received. Unlike that one, this was not a niche ability ¨C rather, it applied to the core of the spell. Every time he used Skin Wall it would be triggered. While the evolution would do nothing to reduce the cost of cell growth, that was only half of the spell¡¯s equation. What this extra ability did was to lower the energy requirement needed to get the converted cells to resist whatever was being trapped. The effect would be material. Instead of needing ten layers of reinforced cells to contain something, he might only require three. When the solution was to reinforce the cells directly in those cases, then, rather than ten mana, only two might be needed. It was particularly valuable when he was fighting enemies of a higher rank than him. For them, most of the cost of negating their venom was on this reinforcement, not growth. And Tom wasn¡¯t delusional. He would always be fighting things stronger than him. Given how experience worked, it was the only way to grow his strength fast enough. ¡°The evolution¡¯s so good,¡± he whispered to himself. Tier-adjusted, it was probably the best he had ever gotten. He wanted to tell someone and celebrate, but he realised there was no one around to share the news with. His time in Existentia had gotten him used to company once more, and, despite being surrounded by people, admittedly mostly young ones, he was lonely. He had no companions to confide in, celebrate and grow stronger with. Well, there was April, but confiding in a million-year-old trial spirit was not the same. He needed companions and friends. Unfortunately, he was not sure how to find them, given the restrictions he was under. Some of his excitement faded. Frowning, he returned to training and, still sad, fell asleep. Progress was frustratingly slow. Chapter 29 – Exploring Underground Tom woke up slowly and stretched luxuriously after abandoning the lure of sleep. It was morning, and he had a job to do. Prepared for the day ahead, he slid out of bed¡­ and was shocked to find only the night lights active. Even more surprisingly, they were still on their lowest setting. It was far earlier than he had expected. It was the type of wake up that presented a difficult choice. It encouraged you to attempt to try to force yourself back to sleep, but experience suggested that was futile. He couldn¡¯t tell the precise time, but he guessed it was around four a.m. Given that the night light¡¯s intensity slowly increased from around five, at the very least it was before then. He wondered what was the best course of action. Should he get up? Should he attempt some extra shut-eye? How tired was he? He could feel the heaviness of his limbs, the subtle desire to roll over and try to sleep, but, offsetting that, his arm burned from the new series of cuts. He wasn¡¯t sure he could get back to sleep with that distraction on top of his obvious wakefulness. He was drowsy, he decided, but not sufficiently exhausted to go back to sleep. With a sigh, he left the warmth of his bed and stood in the near darkness of the dorm. If he couldn¡¯t sleep, he figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to do some exploring. If the worst happened and he was discovered, he would fall back on the truth and probably retreat into his pseudo-system room to allow that automatic acting to protect him. The hallways were nowhere near as scary as Little Ta¡¯s memories had implied. The past him had considered them to be haunted at night, filled with shifting darkness and foreboding presences. Tom had distinct memories of that terror, but as he navigated the corridors, his adult mind spotted nothing of the kind. Yes, it was dark, and the limited amount of light threw deep shadows around; but no creatures moved in them like his younger self remembered. Tom had been harbouring some fantasies of getting access to the isolation rooms, but none of the doors were open. To get in, he would have to go through the scanning process, and he wasn¡¯t about to leave evidence of his exploration of the place in the middle of the night. The building creaked slightly, which added to the atmosphere, but, again, it was nothing like those memories. Little Ta had been terrified of the corridors at night. To him, they had always had a supernatural presence, the type that was an icy claw in your gut, the absolute knowledge that something was out there, and it wanted to kill him. For his younger self, the impressions had been visceral. They had been real as stone was. As he started down the first hallway, Tom saw nothing to support the horror he could remember. While he tried to hurry, he kept up his discipline. With each step, he attempted to carefully and slowly transition his body weight to avoid noise, and he paused every few metres to listen and make sure he was still alone. Thankfully, everything was silent each time he checked. As he picked his way forward, he kept all of his senses alert, but there were no signs of security or wards anywhere. Everything was deserted. Eventually, his restless feet took him toward the gymnasium, which, unlike elsewhere, had significantly more light, courtesy of the globule generators in the fort. Shining through the hide gaps, it created occasional patches of illumination ¨C or, at least, patches that weren¡¯t as dark as everywhere else. He paused in the shadowed recess of the door and wondered whether proceeding further was worthwhile. It was not like the gymnasium would have any secrets. His eyes scanned it anyway, mainly to see if there were any adults keeping watch. Then he froze. The metal door, the one that was not in Little Ta¡¯s memories, was open. All of his previous desire to stay away vanished. Tom licked his lips and then ran his mind over what he knew. Curiosity killed the cat, or at least that was what they said, so Tom resisted the impulse to run straight across to it. A large part of him acknowledged that he should be retreating. That was the prudent, sensible reaction. However, the door was open, and this might be his only chance to see what was being hidden. It didn¡¯t help that forty-years in the solo tutorial had taught him that failing to take advantage of opportunities like these would cost him in the long run. He licked his lips. His heart was beating so loudly he was surprised he couldn¡¯t hear it echoing off the far wall. Every other time, the door had been shut. What did it being open now imply? Was it an issue or an opportunity? Yes, the answer was yes. It was both those things, but that didn¡¯t mean he shouldn¡¯t retreat with his tail between his legs. It was clear that human society had set up and invested in this orphanage to protect reincarnators. They wouldn¡¯t allow such an obvious trap to exist in the facility, and, despite little Ta having failed to notice it, the door¡¯s existence was an open secret. The older children studiously ignored it, but were aware of its being there. He had seen a pair of teenagers openly refer to it in conversation complete with a subtle head nod. They knew about it, so he wasn¡¯t looking at a huge secret. But a secret it was, and right now he wanted to discover what was hidden. In Little Ta¡¯s memories, the two times he had been caught outside the dorms at night the caretakers had found him quickly, though that might have been because he was screaming, but the point was they hadn¡¯t noticed him and he had explored further than Little Ta ever did. This week was an opportunity, and that door was something the older children used. If it was a training resource, he needed to know about it in order to incorporate it into his master plan. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. But the danger, that insidious thought kept repeating inside his head along with the word prudence. He knew he should walk back to his bed and pretend to sleep, but no one had achieved greatness by being meek and mild, and there were still hours until he was supposed to be awake. The nightlights hadn¡¯t even started to grow brighter yet. On the balance of risks, it was probably worthwhile to check it out. He focused on a singular mental image. It was a simple one. None of his enemies would discover him directly or indirectly because of his actions today. That was all he wanted, and he maintained that unwavering desire. Comfortable with the mental image, he expelled all but five of his fate points, aiming them at achieving the outcome. Between the orphanage and the invisible but powerful defences he had just overlaid directly, he should be well and truly protected from any assassins out there. Then he stood and observed. There was no way to approach the door safely. The direct route was mostly through the shadows, but there was a five-metre stretch that was illuminated more than most. If he tried to cross that, it would only take a single person looking in the right direction to spot him. He guessed fate might turn their eyes, but it felt too risky to rely on chance for something fundamental like that. It was best to depend on his own skills. Luck was best when it was earned by hard work. Going by the fort was tempting. If he did that, he could stay in darkness the entire time ¨C or, at least, remain invisible to any outside eyes. He could loop through the internals, exit opposite the door, and have a direct run through shadows to reach it. But that path would take longer, not to mention that it would be more dangerous in other ways. Those spears could creak and reveal his position; even something mundane like his footsteps could do the same, causing vibrations in the hide walls. If that happened it would be problematic if anything was watching. The lit-up area preventing the direct route was abruptly cast into shadow. Tom froze and turned to the fort. His mind was racing as he searched for what was blocking the light. A patch of soft light on the other side of the room was moving slowly. It spotlighted a chair, then a table. He traced it back, fearful of deliberate manipulation, and discovered it was coming from within the fort. Variable light? Moving light? He asked, his thoughts zooming. What did that mean? Realisation rushed through him. The floating globules that lit up the inside of the fort must be responsible. Those things moved randomly and did not last forever, which is why that area was now shadowed. One of the light globes must have run out of energy and dissipated. Before he realised that he had reached a decision, he was already moving. Cautiously, he crept forward, sticking close to the wall and the deepest shadows. He knew he was being reckless, but that did not stop his approach - it just reminded him to crouch into the shadows more and take care with each step. Self-doubt now was nonsensical. He had already invested fate, and that light winking out was a sign that his fate was active and supporting him. It could have easily generated a different sign to warn him off. Extra light across this route would have done it. The fact that hadn¡¯t occurred meant it was safe to proceed. The metal door, once he got closer, had blocked off a staircase that went downwards. Tom snuck through the doorway and started down the steps. After taking six of them, he paused and ran his fingers over the wall, studying everything in the dim light. It was a magical construction, as there were no seams anywhere, and each stone was deliberately roughed to provide a tread. The workmanship was impressive, and based on the classical spiral design and the size of the steps, the entire thing had to have been created by humans. Tom hurriedly went down and stuck close to the inner wall, both to take advantage of his small feet and because it was faster. He descended almost three flights before exiting into a massive cavern - at least, it was massive in width rather than height. The room had a slight oval shape and the shortest line across was longer than an Olympic swimming pool even if the roof was less than two metres above his head. Tom was reasonably confident that this too was man-made, but with active GODs he wouldn¡¯t be able to say for certain, unless he spoke to someone who had seen the construction first hand. The room was empty, but he could see dark patches every few metres along the walls. He moved to the closest and peered in, knowing what he was going to find. Sure enough, another staircase greeted him. This one, while still heading downwards, was mostly horizontal. It might have been on a twenty-degree angle, like you would see on a car park ramp. His eyes weren¡¯t good enough to observe further, but it went in a perfectly straight line for at least forty metres, and, he suspected, a lot further after that. This was not quite what he had expected. He kept moving forward. The next shadowed alcove contained a descending tunnel, and the one after that even more stairs. That one practically went straight downward. He couldn¡¯t smell anything, but he suspected the passages were connected to monster lairs rather than trials like he had been guessing. Tom stopped and looked around the cavern and counted. If every shadowed area was a tunnel, there were almost three dozen of them. He sniffed deeply at the five nearest openings, but couldn¡¯t catch any scent that revealed where they led. He wondered what he should do. Finally, he decided to explore the lightly sloping passage, which was the second-closest to the exit to the gymnasium. The lack of stairs was a strong draw for him. The tunnel he had chosen had no artificial lighting. Rather, there were the occasional seams of moss that glowed just enough that he could always see the shadow of his hands when he waved them in front of his face. The walls were also always visible, based on the moss¡¯s slight sheen. Tom supplemented his movement by running his hand along the wall. He would not rely exclusively on sight when it was compromised. For over ten minutes, he walked steadily down the passage, and then felt it when the stone texture changed. Instantly, he knew he had transitioned from a manmade environment to a wholly natural one. His instincts screamed that he was in danger. It was also likely that he had also stepped past the wards that separated the lair from the common areas. If they were advanced, Tom knew his sensing skill would not have been able to pick them up. He froze and listened with everything he could and then slowly sniffed. The musty air was thick with ammonia, and almost made him cough. Fuck, he thought to himself. His nose wrinkled, he retreated carefully. There was something living ahead and, weapon less, he didn¡¯t want to run into it. While the full details were unclear, this was some clearly some form of training ground to train children before they reached maturity. He was confident that it was a curated lair for them to fight against weak monsters. Carefully, he retraced his steps with his fingers immediately starting to track along the smoother man-made stone. After three metres, he turned and started hurrying away as quickly as he could. From behind him, he could perceive a high-pitched noise right on the edge of his hearing. Chapter 30 – Escape

Chapter 30 ¨C Escape

Tom¡¯s mind went into overdrive. He was in a dark, relatively narrow corridor and had accidentally stepped into what he was now sure was a monster lair. That conclusion had come from both the change in the stone texture and the smell. He had retreated, and then there had been the extra noise. A squeak? Had he generated that? Maybe it were his shoes on the stone as they twisted. Or? Had it been something external? Something alive? Oh Shit, he thought as his mind finally caught up and latched on to that fact. There had been an unexpected sound near a monster lair. There was no time for further thought, only action. Instinctively, he threw himself to the side. Something brushed past his hair. Damn, he cursed mentally. The threat was not imaginary. Clinically, he suppressed the base instinct to flee screaming, and ran the calculation on the benefit of fight or flight. Surprisingly, biology and logic agreed with each other, and he sprinted forward without further hesitation. The only fact that mattered was that he was still too close to the den, and, while staying and fighting was usually superior to blindly fleeing, this was an exception to the rule. He couldn¡¯t afford to attract any extra attention. There was another squeak, this time to his right. He threw a punch and felt a touch of wings against his hand, as well as the feel of changing wind as the creature dived away from his blow. Tom¡¯s mind hadn¡¯t slowed down, and he considered this new information. The monster had dodged rather than landing a counter. A small measure of relief flooded through him. He wasn¡¯t safe by a long shot, but its decision to avoid contact rather than tank it and strike back, implied that it was weak. He was lucky. Hopefully, it wasn¡¯t even a monster, and was instead a low-ranking beast. If that was the case, he wasn¡¯t in direct danger. But there was so much he didn¡¯t know. He kept running. Against a single enemy, even with this body which lacked abilities, attributes and even a weapon, he had a chance of winning. But a hundred would overwhelm him. He needed to create distance from the den to avoid that. As he ran, he frowned. It was not certain, but he was probably fighting a bat equivalent. A weak one, certainly, but the degree was unknown. It was definitely tier-three or less, as he had survived it ambushing him within its domain. Its agility and offense also had to be rank one at the most, or else he would have suffered more damage by now. However, Tom knew that this single observation did not make him safe. The creature¡¯s caution did not guarantee that he could win in a straight fight. There was always the risk that it possessed some dangerously lopsided attributes. A build that prioritised strength and vitality, for instance; and, if that was the case, while Tom was able to dodge it, it would finish him if he ever allowed it to engage him properly. If the fight became a grapple in close quarters, he would be torn to bits. Unless he found out differently, he had to avoid a direct confrontation. Forcefully, he slowed his steps down so as to hear it better. There was another squeak on the edge of his hearing. This time, he suppressed his instinctive reactions. During the last attack, his fist had almost landed. A fraction of a second was all he needed to delay, and then it wouldn¡¯t be able to dodge. It was agony to force inaction while knowing that an unknown creature was swooping in¡­ He lashed out with a fist at where he predicted its attack would put it. His counter was based on that one squeak - and on his years of battle experience. In the near pitch-blackness, his understanding of how bat-like monsters flew and attacked was his greatest asset. He struck something. Teeth bit down with fangs cutting into his knuckles, and then there was a crack, and it bounced away from him. His hand stung, but he was more interested in his other senses. Primarily, his hearing. The thing flapped erratically, then crashed five metres down the tunnel. It was not tier three; it was closer to an earth bat than anything else. Light, slow to react, and it sounded like he had hurt it. For an instant, he paused in indecision. This was a closer choice than previously, and he was torn about what was the best action. He could pursue it and stamp it to death, or he could flee. After a bare moment of thought, he chose the latter. Action, even if wrong in this situation, was better than inaction. Creating distance was the wiser choice because, in the darkness, given the bat¡¯s small body, there was no guarantee he could find it quickly, especially if he was still close to the den. If he fought here, its friends might hear him, and that would be a disaster. A flock of earth bats were not dangerous. A flock of earth bats with suicidal disregard for their own safety and a taste for human blood was a different matter. To mitigate that risk, he ran, attempting to open up distance from the lair. The tunnel sloped up steadily, and he forced himself to keep going. His breathing became laboured and his lungs hurt, as did his calves and quads. He hated this body, even though the growth potential of being reincarnated so young was off the charts. The future might be bright, but his current strength profile was horrible. With iron will, he pressed onwards. Every breath rasped as he drew it in and caused a sharp pain. It was worse than his cuts, but he kept pushing. There was another squeak, one barely loud enough to register over his thumping steps and gasping breaths. In his exhausted state, he registered, but didn¡¯t react. Something slammed into his shoulder blades. Teeth bit, the pressure pinching him even as his clothes prevented access to his soft skin. Its claws scratching frantically as it tried to cut him open. Without conscious direction, his body reacted to the threat, and he launched himself into a forward roll in an attempt to squish it between him and the ground. It disengaged and leapt to safety a moment before he was about to land on it. Instead of the impact being cushioned he hit rock and bounced painfully. He held in a wince and cursed at the inconsistency of whatever was hunting him. Statistically, it should have continued its attack and then got crushed when he rolled over it. This was something that had followed him for hundreds of metres, so it was clear he was facing a monster. The prolonged chase should have driven it mad with rage. Yet it had let go when threatened. A monster shouldn¡¯t have been able to do that. That slight degree of intelligence or self-preservation instincts worried him. It suggested that there was something more to the monster¡¯s makeup. It clearly didn¡¯t kill by close combat, so the next obvious option was it relied on magic. But, likewise, it hadn¡¯t used anything like that yet. If it didn¡¯t kill by magic or force, then what else could it specialise in? Shit, shit, shit, he cursed. Only one other option for a creature this low tier made sense. It was venomous. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The delivery mechanism was not its teeth or saliva, because if it had of been Tom was sure he would have felt the negative effects by now. That meant he would probably have to watch out for its claws, or maybe a specialised delivery appendage, like a scorpion¡¯s tail or a spur on its back leg. It didn¡¯t really matter - all the options, in the end, meant that he had to be more careful. The fight suddenly felt much deadlier than before. He needed to protect himself. There was no point to leave anything in reserve. He had to use his remaining fate. Creating the mental image to apply was easy. ¡®Don¡¯t let it kill me.¡¯ With a surge, he spent the remaining fate, regretting his earlier impulsive use. His previous investment had been against his enemies, to stop them from finding him, rather than about survival. Specific use was usually better than general - until it wasn¡¯t, and this was one of those exceptions. He had made the mistake because he hadn¡¯t expected to be fighting. Who designed a system that let a child wander into a monster den? In hindsight, that assumption had been in error, because apparently the designers of this place weren¡¯t big on ensuring safety. Tom experimentally clenched his fist. As far as he could tell, there was no unexpected numbness. Shortness of breath was a possibility, but he had been sprinting, which explained what he was feeling. Erratic heartbeat fell under the same umbrella. If it had already tagged him, he doubted he would survive, so he put the risk of being already doomed out of his mind and focused. It was vital that it didn¡¯t land a blow on his skin. Determined not to get hurt, Tom stood in the corridor with his hands on his head while attempting to control his breathing. It was necessary to lower the noise he was generating to achieve better triangulation of where it was. Its squeaks were probably a form of sonar, which meant that, if he was quiet, he would hear it coming from further away. Things could have been far worse, he reminded himself. The den could have contained something immediately fatal, or a swarm of these bats might have noticed him. As it was, there was a path to success. All he needed to do was to ensure it didn¡¯t inject him with whatever deadly venom it used. It was a monster, and would keep hounding him until it saw an opening to land a telling blow. It would not relent, and it was up to Tom to allow no lapses in concentration that might encourage it to strike. At least, he had to do that until he had learned its patterns which should allow him to safely kill it. Though a weapon, he thought wistfully, would trivialise the fight. There were lots of items in the gymnasium that could be turned into a makeshift weapon. Getting there immediately became his only aim. There was a squeak, and, because he was listening for it, wing beats. It swept over his head, not coming in to strike because he had been facing it straight . The monster liked to attack exclusively from behind, and Tom turned to face its new location. It would come back, see his eyes, and avoid him. That would buy him more time to recover. The tunnel was working in his favour - it was having to do a long figure of eight loops. Basically, it had to get far enough away from him to feel comfortable losing all of its speed to turn around. Additionally, the low roof had the bonus that it couldn¡¯t glide and reach him silently from above. It had to keep using its wings to one accelerate, and then prevent itself from losing height. He kept turning every time it passed, because it caused the bat to abort the attack run. Tom snorted. At least, that was consistent with what he expected. It was too dumb to learn from each encounter and adjust its tactics. Despite that, it was clear that it was stalking him and searching for an opening. With his breathing close to being under control, he moved tentatively forward, his ears twitching. Instinct made him throw himself onto the ground, and he felt the wind of its beating wings in his hair as it shot over him. The bloody thing was persistent. Whenever it went past, Tom would run for ten seconds and then turn to face it. A minute passed, and then another. It seemed to understand that he was escaping. Its attack runs were getting closer to him. If Tom had wanted to land a punch, he could have, but he was worried about it tagging him when he did so. If he had a weapon, this would already have been over. He sprinted and then stopped. There were extra squeaks, and he realised that it was going to commit to an attack. He raised his hands to strike, and it flinched away. They repeated the dance, with Tom moving slowly forward now because it was doing tighter turns. He broke into a run, stopped, went to throw a punch; but it was already diving sidewards to avoid him. The frustrating thing was that, in these tight confines, he had a massive advantage. If he had a weapon, or if the light levels were higher, he would have landed a strike by now. But once he left the corridor, he wasn¡¯t quite so certain of how things would play out. He didn¡¯t know whether he would be able to fend it off as easily as he was if it could attack from above as well as from an extra side. It swept past him and he sprinted forward, taking advantage of the time it took to turn. At the next pass he mimed a punch, then next attack was avoided with a quick sidestep. Then he repeated that technique, but this time the creature guessed right and smacked into his back. He tumbled forward, and it flew away without trying to get through his clothes. Tom paused. He was panting once more. He stood ready as he regained his breath. Like last time, it didn¡¯t attack while he was in the defensive position. Then he kept going, and he felt it when the atmosphere of the tunnel changed. The air flow was subtly different, and while he couldn¡¯t see it, he had to be almost out. He accelerated. This time, the bat went far lower than it used to, and struck his leg. He lost his balance and fell hard and loud. With a groan, he pushed to his feet - only to get a mouthful of bat. His fingers closed over it and he threw it at the wall as hard as he could. There was no satisfying thump, and he couldn¡¯t believe he had done that. So stupid, he couldn¡¯t feel any pain, and he hoped it wasn¡¯t like the vampiric bats on earth who had the ability to dull or outright numb the pain when they bite. In some places of the world, if they got into barns, they could bleed a cow out without it ever realising what was happening. And, since he took the risk, throwing it was doubly dumb. He should have held on and bashed it against the floor. It circled him, and Tom continued forward right until he reached the large cavern - and then he froze. The problem was definitely as bad as he had feared. The height and limited width of the tunnel had been working to his advantage because there were only a couple of directions that the bat had been able to use to come at him. When he went out then¡­ Slap, Slap. Someone large was running toward him. Tom felt panic flash through him as he remembered his earlier heavy fall. Had he cried out at the time due to surprise? He suspected he had. It must have been heard. There was a shrill whistle and then, out of the corner of his eye, the shape of the bat was briefly illuminated by a distant light. It veered away. A moment later, there was a thud. ¡°Shit. Watalak bat,¡± Dimitri their main caretaker cursed. The large man was visible, he was standing deliberately between Tom and a light so his full silhouette was on display. He was facing directly away from where Tom was. ¡°Don¡¯t say a thing. Whoever you are, you¡¯re not authorised to be here. I can smell blood, so even if it means getting caught, you need to go use healing crystal immediately. Any cut, whether from teeth or claws, will affect you. You¡¯ve got about an hour until the venom begins to cause severe problems.¡± Tom didn¡¯t move. ¡°Kid, what you waiting for? I can smell blood. My back¡¯s turned, there¡¯s no one else down here, and, luckily for you, no one on duty above. Don¡¯t stand there. Move!¡± Tentatively, he started toward the exit. ¡°Go faster!¡± He decided to listen and jogged. He reached the steps upwards. ¡°Kid. This is to remember not to sneak out after hours.¡± Tom felt a pressure on his mind. There was a sensation of intense fear but dissociated from himself, so he didn¡¯t feel it directly. Then a blood curdling scream erupted from behind him. Tom spun. Dimitri had dropped his weapon and was sprinting away from him. He had felt the edge of the spell, and had been unaffected as a result, but the big man had obviously been hit with it more directly. He didn¡¯t know what had happened, but there was no point staying around. Anything strong enough to get a high tiered adult to react like that was way beyond Tom¡¯s pay grade to counter. With his mind racing, he retreated, pausing only to use a healing crystal in one of the active climb rooms. When he tucked himself under the covers, his brain was in overdrive. His mind dwelt on the inhabitants of the lairs, especially on the Watalak bat, which was the perfect thing for children to fight. It was weak enough to be killed, but a genuine threat due to their venom. If you were given an anti-venom before engaging, it would be almost impossible to lose. Then there was Dimitri and the way he had faced away and had not given himself a chance to identify Tom and then, of course, how he had run at the end. That implied something more dangerous than humans had been down there, but probably not anything that would kill children. There was a lot to think about. Once he heard others moving, he got up and, pretending nothing was wrong, went to breakfast. The metal door was shut, and there was not a single adult present. Tom was not at all surprised to see that, but Dimitri had been nice to little Ta, so he hoped nothing had happened to him. Chapter 31.1 – Martial Training Tom kept his eyes open to see if his adventure during the previous night had been noticed. While Dimitri hadn¡¯t been seen at breakfast, later he turned up to take his usual lecture. There was nothing in his mannerisms to indicate anything unusual had happened in the early hours of the morning: no rushing, no hushed conversations on the side. He was as calm and deliberate as always. Tom had been watching during breakfast and noticed no changes there, either. He had half-expected there to be extra security, but no, it was just another breakfast in the routine of the orphanage. There were three volunteers, as usual, all of whom he recognised as regulars, and they had flittered around and dispensed help and discipline when it was required. It was as though nothing unusual had occurred. Either that, or the general secrecy inherent in all the orphanage¡¯s operations had kicked in. He had kept his eyes open for any signs, but there were none. It was as if it had been swept under the table, and, given the fate he had invested prior to going down the tunnel, that made sense. To protect himself from any residual problems, he threw himself into his normal routines, and everything proceeded as normal. The focus of the history class switched to people. Tom listened for the names of his friends or even acquaintances from the champion¡¯s trial. Keikain was the only one he heard raised, though. He was famous for a pilgrimage he performed every decade; that journey took him through each of the major towns, and more importantly, to the critical and strategic trials humanity had claimed. He would visit them, and they would improve. Dimitri explained it as a priest thing, but Tom knew that wasn¡¯t true. It was him getting the most use out of a trait he had purchased in the contribution store after the tutorial. The decade that had to pass between trips was because of the abilities¡¯ long cooldown rather than any religious reason. Then, after a year¡¯s journey, he would disappear for another nine years. The rumour mill said that he had sold his services to the alien species that guarded him on each of the trips. That interested Tom. Keikain doing something like that was beyond his expectations, and he wondered what he was getting out of it. Maybe a way to satisfy his bloodline; and, if he was refreshing the species¡¯ access to high levelled skills, spells and classes, then also a further bonus to ranking points. Surprisingly, he wanted to ask if Keikain was happy, whether he had moved past his demons. The sentiment shocked Tom, as it was totally unexpected. He had always thought he would cut the man out of his life the moment their cooperation for the greater good was finished. But apparently, despite the man¡¯s personality, not to mention his evil decisions, he cared about him. It was probably because of their mutual drive to save humanity, and because Tom could see himself making some of the same soul-crushing decisions the other man had been forced into. Discipline forced him to hold the words in. A thought occurred to him. His current situation, as a reincarnated kid, was as cruel as those forty years alone in a tutorial. As cruel as, those words resonated in him. ¡°Fuck,¡± he whispered. Onions, plans within plans. He felt like kicking himself for not seeing it earlier. She planned this; he thought. The tutorial, the weird selection criteria that favoured the ability to survive for years when isolated. It had made no sense to favour such traits in a social species, one that had risen to dominate their planet by cooperation. It was incomprehensible¡­ unless there was a hidden purpose. She always planned on reincarnating people. When GODs and GODDESSs were involved, things were never as obvious as they seemed. While existing in this state was painful, it was something he had been uniquely prepared to deal with. Ten years was nothing compared to the forty in the tutorial. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The week ended, and he entered the trial once more. April greeted him warmly, then sent him away to train. It was a blur of blood, pain, and coffee. He was suspended in the void once more, enduring. For this particular session, ninety-five percent of the incoming needles contained precognition energy. When they struck him, he absorbed them, or at least partially so. It was hard to estimate, but he thought he might be extracting over half the power from them. Unfortunately, they still stung as they impacted, but nowhere near as badly as the other ones. He blinked and found himself sitting in the caf¨¦. He glanced around, confused. It was definitely like he remembered. Even the distant people at the other tables that he couldn¡¯t quite focus on were there. Like usual, the unnaturally beautiful angel sat on a stool opposite him with the hard plastic table between them. ¡°What¡¯s happening!¡± He demanded and smacked the table, confirming it was solid. ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this? The schedule is skill training, combat, then coffee.¡± The angel across from him smiled: ¡°A change of routine is always a blessing. And we should celebrate your progress.¡± Tom¡¯s eyes narrowed: ¡°This session I¡¯ve barely accomplished anything. I still can¡¯t absorb them.¡± She chuckled again: ¡°Your capacity is limited, but it¡¯s growing. I¡¯ve been sending twice as many precognition affinity projectiles at you, and you¡¯re absorbing significantly more from each individual needle than you had last week.¡± Tom scoffed. In his core, he didn¡¯t believe what she was saying. Yes, the number of precognition needles had increased, but his absorption of them was as terrible as ever. ¡°I¡¯m still failing.¡± he told her. ¡°I hadn¡¯t stopped a single one, and they hurt just as bad as always.¡± ¡°Yes, they do. That¡¯s a training decision you made. If I make it less punitive, your progress will slow down by eighty percent. That¡¯s something I don¡¯t think you want. Is it? Because if you¡¯d prefer to go easy, I can lower the pain.¡± She pinned him with her gaze until he shook his head. ¡°Tom, I¡¯m serious. Most people I don¡¯t even test at this level, and the very few who start it maintain it until the end. I can reduce the needle¡¯s power. It¡¯ll make the sessions easier and, honestly, in the greater scheme of things, a month is insignificant.¡± He didn¡¯t consider the offer for a moment. ¡°No. I¡¯ll take the route that makes me the strongest person I can be.¡± She smiled, relieved: ¡°Thank you for your unreasonable level of stubbornness. I don¡¯t want to slow things down, because you¡¯re responding really well. Your progress is well ahead of the forecast, and it would be a shame to change to something different and risk it not working. Do you understand that you¡¯re four times better now than you were at the start of the last trial? If you do a full session of the same intensity next week, I reckon you¡¯ll be able to move to the second stage. This is worth it, Tom. I guarantee you that this is worth it.¡± ¡°Great.¡± He picked up the coffee and was very careful to supress the tremors as he raised it to his lips. He took a sip, and it was scalding. He bit off the instinctive curse. ¡°Do they have to serve it so hot?¡± He complained, and then deliberately smacked the cup down on the saucer. The liquid sloshed and a small amount went over the side. April, across from him, arched an eyebrow, condemning his childish outburst with a simple facial expression. He deserved that, but almost as quickly as he processed the event, he put her out of his mind and frowned. The change in routine and not going straight to combat worried him. He had thought there was time to battle the monsters and then finish another complete cycle. There should have been heaps of time. Him being here did not make sense. ¡°Is my time in the trial up?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got fifty minutes.¡± He stared at her, trying to understand her angle. That was more than enough to have finished the current session, and then another one on top of that. ¡°Why am I here instead of fighting?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that complicated, Tom. You needed all your concentration to lift a cup of coffee. Do you really want me to send you back to fight the octolegs?¡± He shuddered and remembered how the two of them had grabbed his arms and legs and then pulled in the opposite direction. It had been¡­ It had been a bad way to die. ¡°Exactly my point,¡± she said, reading the way he had shivered. ¡°Any further training will be counterproductive. Better to call the end now and refresh ourselves for next week. Tell me more about the outside world.¡± By the time he left, he had calmed down sufficiently to act like he had enjoyed a lazy few hours frolicking in a pool while trying unsuccessfully to catch goldfish with his bare hands. April had even been nice enough to dump him on the edge of the lake for a few minutes to let him describe the experience in detail if anyone asked. Not that they would. No one noticed how he felt, and he got through dinner and the evening without drawing any unwanted attention. Chapter 31.2 – Martial Training The next day dawned, and this time he was actually looking forward to classes when he pulled himself out of bed. The rumour was that today was going to be the first of the new regime with physical training sandwiched between learning. Their two-hour morning block was being extended to a three-hour one. He suffered through an hour of reading and mathematics, which he reduced to only a couple of handfuls of minutes as he spent the whole time in his pseudo system room. Then Dimitri led them to a secondary gymnasium. It was one he hadn¡¯t seen before. It had a spongy floor and was filled with training dummies. A young-looking woman who walked like a warrior greeted them. She wore casual clothes, but Tom could feel both her massive fate pool and the magic she possessed. She was not a Dimitri, who was only moderately powerful - this was someone who you would expect to see on the front lines. A genuine powerhouse. ¡°You can call me Instructor Susan,¡± she said when they had all entered the room. There was a long silence as she assessed them. Dimitri cleared his throat: ¡°Instructor Susan is a weapon master.¡± ¡°Nope. I¡¯m a Fighter.¡± ¡°She¡¯s as good with weapons as you can get and not be recognised by the system as trainer. Listen to everything she has to say or show. She¡¯s here for a week and she¡¯ll set you on the path to master the weapon yourself. Now, go and grab one.¡± He waved at the barrels filled with weaponry, and Tom grabbed a spear. ¡°Where swords?¡± ¡°No swords, girl.¡± the woman snapped, sounding disgusted, then looked accusingly at Dimitri. ¡°Half of them are still four.¡± He said defensively. ¡°They don¡¯t know better yet. However, Instructor Susan is right. We almost never fight humanoids, or at least ones our size, where swords would be a superior choice. Against the opponents we normally fight, spears, axes or hammers are better.¡± ¡°I want a sword.¡± ¡°No.¡± The instructor grabbed an axe and shoved it at the girl, then glared at her with her hands on her hips in a very threatening manner. The kid wilted under the pressure. Dimitri frowned, but did not interfere: Once you¡¯ve learned your primary weapon, you can train secondary ones. These can be as exotic as you like ¨C it can even be a sword. For now, use one of these.¡± Tom smiled at the barely restrained patience. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Instructor Susan was obviously bored, grabbed a hammer and struck one of the dummies. Thump. It rocked violently backward and didn¡¯t break, because, and Tom was almost certain about this, because she was moderating her strength. She glanced back at them: ¡°Start hitting.¡± He looked down at his spear, and then frowned when he realised the trap it represented. Very reluctantly, he switched it over with a hammer. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to possess expertise in multiple weapons. There were lots of monsters who were armoured in such a way that poking them with a stick was ineffective. A hammer was the logical instrument to crack them open, and him using the next ten years to gain proficiency and skills was sensible. Tom walked over to his own target, planted his feet and swung hard. There were the sounds of other people hitting dummies all around him. He ignored them and focused on his own actions. He practiced different feet positions and body movements as he strove to deliver the loudest bang possible. His hammer, of course, didn¡¯t accomplish anything close to what the instructor¡¯s casual blow had done, but he was beating everyone else in his year level - apart from Pa, who was using an axe and almost leaving cuts in the dummies¡¯ wood. There was a grunt behind him, which might have been that of approval. He stopped, glanced back, and saw the instructor standing there. Silently, she knelt to get on the level with him, and her hands forced his feet further apart and pushed his leading foot forward. Then she guided his swing. ¡°Twist more,¡± she snapped, poking him in the side. He swung again. She punched his left foot to force it to move to the right spot, and then grabbed and pulled the war hammer back so his forearm was pressed against his mouth. When she released the weapons shaft, he attempted to obliterate the dummy. The sound of wood on wood was more substantial than before. He kept going. Instructor Susan said nothing, but she continuously corrected his form by tugging and prodding him both before, after, and during the swing. Then, with a grunt, she stood and pressed a ring into his surprised hand, then walked over to the next person to train. ¡°What is this?¡± he asked, but she had already stalked away. Dimitri hurried over and held out a hand. ¡°Give it here.¡± Perplexed, Tom handed it across. ¡°Adults are allowed and encouraged to give gifts to the students. Usually instructor Susan doesn¡¯t, but this morning she went to the orphanage store and spent a chunk of credits to grab a few random age-appropriate items.¡± He handed the ring back to Tom. ¡°That¡¯s yours. Unfortunately, I don¡¯t think she checked the descriptions. I¡¯m not sure you¡¯re going to find it useful. It¡¯s a restraint ring that¡¯s designed to help physical training. It¡¯s got a couple of modes to help with strength and vitality. However, I don¡¯t see how it¡¯ll help children. Young adults, certainly, but children? No..¡± He frowned. ¡°Maybe the store will let you exchange it.¡± He looked over at Susan who was correcting the stance of her latest victim with visible frustration. Pa seemed to be enjoying the instruction. Dimitri grimaced again. ¡°But it¡¯s not worth pissing Susan off. My recommendation is to play with it first for a few months. Susan¡¯s not an idiot. Maybe she reviewed it after all and she thinks you¡¯ll find a use for it.¡± The big man shrugged. ¡°She only bought ten items, so she probably did.¡± He started to walk away. ¡°Wait! Why would she give it to me?¡± ¡°She¡¯s an adventurer, so who the hell knows. Maybe she was impressed with your hammer skills.¡± The way Dimitri looked at him made it clear how unlikely he thought that was. ¡°Maybe you look like her son from earth, or a nephew, or maybe someone she couldn¡¯t save.¡± The big man shrugged. ¡°Just play with it - maybe it¡¯s better than I think.¡± Chapter 31.3 – Martial Training Thoughtfully, he slipped the ring on and then swung the weapon at the dummy. His thoughts were in turmoil. He went over how he acted to try to work out whether he had let slip he was a reincarnated one, and decided he was safe. Yes, relatively to everyone around him, his technique let him hit hard, but he had been careful not to show too much proficiency. He also had little prior knowledge to draw on, as he had rarely used the hammer in the tutorial, and never in this not quite right child¡¯s body. Someone looking in couldn¡¯t discern an ability that didn¡¯t exist. It was probably just good fortune. As he kept hitting his target, Tom funnelled a point of mana into the ring to activate it. He was instantly aware of the different settings available. He could increase the gravity he would be subjected to, cause air to impede his movements, create a lightning field that would make muscles spasm, agitate the air so that it would cut him or dampen his senses, or a combination of them all. They were the exact functions Dimitri had alluded to - with the exception of dampen senses, which, out of them all, Tom thought to be the most valuable. From what he knew of the system, this ring would not help him gain titles, and, while it could potentially contribute to skill gains, that benefit would be marginal. However, Tom could see the benefit of practising with his body under strain, and dampen senses might actually be very useful to him. With his precognition affinity, anything that took away from his perception and forced him to use a sixth sense would be valuable. Briefly, he dialled up the dampened senses, and, for a moment, his entire world disappeared. He could barely see, sound was like he was standing in an ocean with a roaring, almost physical noise surrounding him, and it felt like fifty grandmothers had descended like a flock of seagulls onto a stray chip and were busily pinching him. Hurriedly, he turned it off. In the future, when he was ready to develop precognition, the ring was definitely going to be useful. With a shrug, he focused on a more mundane kind of advancement, and increased gravity by the smallest interval of twenty percent. The hammer almost became too heavy for him to swing. However, he pushed through and struck the dummy hard. It felt good to get the most out of his body, even if it was only a fraction of what he had achieved previously. After history and lunch, Dimitri was there to escort him to his isolation room. Defiantly, he clutched the four toys he had prepared earlier. The big man rolled his eyes. ¡°What¡¯s with the poor acting. Toys, you can take them, but you pack them up afterwards.¡± The moment he was in the room, he set up his tower and grabbed what was to be his target for the next week of training, or at least until he had mastered it. Poison: Magical Itch ¨C Tier 1 This slowly spreading poison creates a nearly irresistible itch. Unlike a lot of the options, this one was not deadly, which made it a useful substance to train the Magical Impermeability spell. The latter would theoretically fortify the Skin Wall against the purely magical substances that it currently couldn¡¯t block. When his two hours were up, the room let him out as normal and he hurried straight to the obstacle course wing. Tom found the other two in the fourth room. This one was dedicated to movement. It was about half the size of the main gymnasium, which still made it larger than a basketball court and five stories high. The entire space was filled with various obstacle courses that went from ground level to the roof. Tom knew that there were spells to stop you from hurting yourself too badly when you fell, and lots of padded surfaces on the lower levels. Nevertheless, it was intimidating. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The idea was to choose one of the thirty plus start points and then navigate the loop to return to where you started from. The course made use of all the available space, and some courses took you from the ground to the roof and back again multiple times. Bir was having a lot of fun throwing herself over, through, and around the obstacles on the second easiest course, which was still incredibly challenging for kids their age. Even with her knack for it, she was being reckless; on the other hand, fate was clearly in play, and Tom could see it actively smoothing out her mistakes. Well, not precisely, but it was possible to observe how chance favoured her over and over again. Pa was attempting to follow in her wake as best he could. His attempts were surprisingly effective, but he looked kind of like a bull in a china shop. Tom saw him crash into a hurdle and sort of flop over the top. It worked and got him past the obstacle quickly, but scored zero points for style. Despite how awkward his progress looked, he was keeping up with Bir, who was pushing the extent that fate could help her. Without hesitation or pausing to determine the pattern like you were supposed to, she sprinted through the rotating padded obstacles. She was struck multiple times, but, by a flukish chance, managed to keep her feet. A pretend-mace thumped her from behind as she ran along a plank. She stumbled, one foot on the edge, the other beyond it. Her hands windmilled. Another one of the spinning dummies hit her, and, fortunately knocked her back onto the plank, so she promptly fell over. One of the giant arms whizzed over her sprawled body. She stood. Squealed. Failed dismally in her attempt to jump over a knee-length revolving hazard. She half-tripped and half-collapsed onto a different arm and got carried forward two metres, where she fell off onto the next platform. She had crossed the complicated section in seconds, but not in a way that would have made any instructor proud. Tom shook his head. Not one step of that had looked deliberate. Pa, who was following just behind her, reached the same platform the way he was supposed to, by pausing and allowing the obstacle to go flying past before advancing into the space they created. Together, they ran forward and completed the remaining section, with Bir coming out victorious by a mere two seconds. Laughing, they both went to the healing crystal to remove the aftereffects of the heavy bumps they had taken. She checked the recorded course time, then jumped up and down excitedly: ¡°Look, look, look how fast I was.¡± Tom did as requested and agreed with her. Two minutes and thirteen seconds was a great time. Tom, if he went all out with a tiny fate investment, could probably beat it, but it would be close. He joined them for the next run, and, to even the playing field, he focused on keeping his moves precise rather than bumbling through everything like Pa had. Bir must not have used fate this time, since she was slower, and on multiple occasions Tom had to let one of the spinning dummies knock him off the balance beam to ensure he did not beat his friends. It looked appropriately clumsy, but really was anything but. He ensured that they struck him just where he wanted them to, and not a single one had hit him by surprise. While there was nothing he could do about his weakness, his perception and awareness of his surroundings hadn¡¯t been diminished. During the next run, he used the ring to dim his senses. His performance was nowhere near as perfect as the previous run, but he learned how to push through the disability, which was the important thing even if it would not be rewarded with a system-assigned bonus. The next day, Tom snuck into a normal isolation room when it was his turn. He emerged grinning only to meet a stern-faced Dimitri. ¡°This is wrong room.¡± ¡°So, I¡¯ve done my session today.¡± Dimitri grabbed him before he could run away and forced him into the clean room. Little Ta, given brief control, screamed and yelled, while inside Tom grinned at having successfully gained an extra session. ¡°I¡¯ve already done isolation room. I¡¯ve already done it!¡± he shrieked at the top of his voice. Dimitri said nothing and pushed him into the room and locked the door behind him. Laughing at the success of the ploy, he grabbed the practice spear and trained while rotating the settings of his new ring. They were all frustrating and difficult to cope with, but he was experienced enough to know that all the conditions he was being subjected to were environmental effects that he might have to fight through in the outside world. The next person who thought a diffuse electricity cloud would slow him was going to be stunned by how ineffective the ability would be against him. Chapter 32.1 – Skill Progression Tom stood outside the trial room in something resembling a line. Dimitri had done a pretty good job, truth be told. The yelling and cajoling had been annoying, but now, miraculously, the children were standing almost in a single file. Tom frowned and looked at the entranceway ahead. In a minute¡¯s time he would be back in the trial. He was more than a little apprehensive, to put it mildly. Last week had been so emotionally damaging that April had ended the session early. She had done what, to him, seemed almost a crime: forcing him to prioritise mental health ahead of progress. Since then, he had oscillated between feeling aggrieved and accepting the wisdom of her decision. He understood where she was coming from. It wasn¡¯t necessarily a misplaced worry. Her executive decision to handle him with kid gloves was probably correct, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t also frustrating. Yes, the trial sessions were the singular most harrowing period of his life. Yes, he appreciated her concern, but there was more at stake than his mental wellbeing. By rote, he moved forward, leaving the sun for the shadows of the building. He was close to going in again. Tom was confident about his own resilience. In his previous lives, he had literally spent weeks of elapsed time fighting off infections, curse energy and venoms which were consuming him from the inside out. Those inflictions had, because of their potency, necessitated him suffering through it without pain relief. He had lacked the mana regeneration to keep it contained, heal it, and ensure pain relief at the same time. There hadn¡¯t been a choice if the options were to die or suffer. He hadn¡¯t liked it, but he had survived and grown. Being forced to fight on the edge of oblivion with only his limited healing sustaining his life had often pushed his skills to new levels. Previously, he had thrived through adversity, and her decision to protect him felt like a robbery. There were levels he could have earned. But she was probably right, he acknowledged. Honestly, he didn¡¯t know what to think. This, the trials, were something different. In real life, once the battle was joined, once he was infected or injected or contaminated, his only choice was to fight. The trial required significantly more willpower, because every new obstacle required a conscious choice to continue. A simple sentence would end the pain. It would also slow down his progress, yes, but he could go from agony to safety in seconds. He just needed to ask, and that was the most insidious of thoughts. It seduced him and played on his weakness. A few words, and he didn¡¯t have to do this. The temptation was almost overwhelming. Dimitri broke his introspection when he seized him firmly by the upper arm. A spark of static crackled momentarily between them. The older man grimaced, studied him more closely, and then guided him forward. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. When directed, he touched the sphere¡¯s surface, and the world changed. He was sitting in a caf¨¦ with a buzz of undecipherable conversation around him. April was perched on her stool across from him, studying him carefully. A tentative smile, like she was about to ask for forgiveness or permission, played fluidly over her face. She reached out and grabbed his hand and squeezed. He studied the plastic table, not understanding all of his own emotions and not wanting words to break open the floodgates. ¡°One more day, Tom. Get through today, push your boundaries, and afterwards, I promise, it¡¯ll get better.¡± ¡°The combat won¡¯t.¡± ¡°It will,¡± she disagreed. There was another hesitation, and she smirked. ¡°All you need to do is stop getting hurt.¡± His head snapped up, and he glared at her: ¡°How¡¯s that possible when you keep sending stronger and stronger enemies against me?¡± He was not blaming her as such, or at least that wasn¡¯t his intention. All he was trying to express were the facts. If the challenge grew stronger every time you won a fight, then eventually you would lose. ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m doing.¡± She raised an angry finger when he went on to argue, and the words died in his throat. ¡°No, I¡¯m not sending waves of stronger and stronger enemies until you fail. It¡¯s not the point of the scenarios. They¡¯re for training. Tom, this isn¡¯t a game. I¡¯m not trying to break you. My only agenda is to push your limits and make you better.¡± ¡°I die almost every session.¡± ¡°And is that on me or you?¡± ¡°Neither, it¡¯s the monsters you send against me.¡± ¡°Is it, Tom?¡± She met his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re the one who knows he¡¯s under a GOD shield and fights like a berserker because of it. I¡¯m not willing to send weak opponents against you and reward that shit. Your style is problematic.¡± ¡°Two octolegs.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s so hard about that?!¡± she yelled back, exasperated. ¡°Put me in your body and I¡¯d crush them. You struggle because you disregard your health and trade damage like you¡¯re immortal. It¡¯s not sustainable.¡± Tom sighed, seeing straight to the heart of the accusation. ¡°I can see why it looks like that to you. But, April, I¡¯m not relying on the GOD shield, I¡¯m not throwing away defence. It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s just that I¡¯ve always had high-levelled healing skills to patch myself up mid-battle. I¡¯m using the fighting style that¡¯s consistently worked for me.¡± ¡°If that¡¯s your excuse, then you¡¯re an idiot, because you sure as hell don¡¯t have a high-level skill right now. I¡¯m not new to this role, and do you know what I think? I see a person who fights using instincts honed over decades. I see a flawed fighter needing guidance. Right now, in this trial, your instincts are wrong, because you have neither the healing proficiency nor the mana to be so wasteful with your health. And I know you¡¯re about to argue that those issues are only temporary, but that doesn¡¯t mean you don¡¯t have to adapt.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t,¡± he muttered surlily. ¡°Yes, you were, and yes, you¡¯ll earn them again. When you go out to earn ranking points, they¡¯ll be in your arsenal. But tell me, Tom, is this the best way for you to fight? Do you always want to be on the edge of death? Will accepting a hit to strike back be mana-effective even when you get all your upgraded skills? Is that fighting style complementary to your development plans?¡± Tom thought about pushing back, then realised she was right. He was so used to trading off a wound to get a kill that he did it instinctively. Sometimes the willingness to sacrifice had let him kill monsters that would otherwise have been impossible for him to defeat. But for every time that had occurred, there was probably a dozen significant wounds he had taken for no benefit, or possibly only to finish a fight a handful of seconds earlier. Across from him, April smiled as she observed the realisation sinking into him: ¡°Good. Meditate on that epiphany before your next fight.¡± Chapter 32.2 – Skill Progression The caf¨¦ dissolved, and he was thrown into the void. Needles assaulted him immediately, and caused sharp pricks of pain when they struck. He was too overwhelmed by the barrage to do anything like meditation. The best he could do was concentrate on the fundamentals to reduce the impact of each needle when it hit him. After the usual twenty minutes, he was teleported to a grassy field. While he had been too busy to focus on the issue consciously, it had nevertheless sunk in. He knew he needed to change. With the sun above him, he limbered up and ran through the basic spear forms to get the blood flowing. Two octolegs appeared the moment he finished. Two of them were dangerous, and represented a battle he usually lost. But, aware of the mistakes he had made previously, he shifted his mindset. He was not going to make it a battle of attrition. If he could retreat to avoid suffering an injury, he would. For the first ten seconds, he pushed his legs to the limit as he fought to prevent the creatures from flanking him. His spear poked and prodded as he corralled them together. Finally, their monstrous nature overwhelmed their pack instincts. They abandoned strategy and charged. With both of them now being in front of him, he retreated backwards with measured steps. His spear never stopped moving as it intercepted the flailing tentacles, both cutting and repelling them with every clash. The grassy field might as well have extended to infinity for the purposes of the fight. He could back away safely until he fell from exhaustion or cramping muscles. That is exactly what he did. For every ten metres conceded, he left them riddled with dozens of cuts cris-crossing their front tentacles. They would twist to present fresh tentacles to him, and then they would repeat the sequence, as though it was a dance. After ten minutes of frantic clashes that left his legs feeling like rubber, they noticeably slowed as their blood loss hit a tipping point. One stopped altogether, and the other, with its single-minded focus, kept coming. Tom wasn¡¯t even sure it realised that its companion was no longer next to it, and it fought with the same method. But now Tom only had to deflect the blows from one of them, not two. An opening presented itself almost immediately, so he lunged forward and put his weapon through the creature¡¯s brain stem. Before the other got close, he kicked the limp body to extract his spear and then repeated the sequence against the other. His right thigh took the opportunity to cramp, and he collapsed on the ground. Elation flooded through him. The last few times he had fought this combination, he had died. Usually, he had taken one with him, but death was death, and he wouldn¡¯t always have a GOD¡¯s shield protecting him. He appeared in the caf¨¦. Across from him April clapped with a massive smile on her face: ¡°Masterful, terrific, perfectly executed.¡± ¡°Stupid octolegs,¡± he grumbled, mostly frustrated at himself in regard to his previous failures. April didn¡¯t take offence. He suspected she knew what he was going through, and the barbs of self-recrimination were going to be sharper than anything she could throw at him. The next twenty hours blurred together. The skill training remained painful, but, despite completing over a hundred battles, he was only seriously injured a dozen times, of which three resulted in his death. If he was going to be technical, only one of those three counted, as a loss because in the other two the attacking monster had perished before he had. The one death had not been great. A wolf gnawing on your leg while you were still alive was not a fun experience. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Once more, he was plucked from where he floated in the void, absorbing needles of energy, straight to the caf¨¦: ¡°Is it time?¡± he asked immediately. She was grinning like a cheshire cat: ¡°No, but were you able to sense the shift?¡± Tom stared at her blankly, not understanding what she was saying. Nothing had changed when it came to the precognition absorption effectiveness for hours. ¡°Did you feel it? The energy absorption. You got it. A hundred percent efficiency.¡± ¡°I did? I did what?¡± She nodded furiously. ¡°Are you sure? That last needle hurt as much as it did every other time.¡± She waved the observation aside: ¡°You¡¯ve been close for a few sessions, but it just tipped over. You finally got it right.¡± ¡°Are you positive? I didn¡¯t feel any improvement. Almost the same amount of energy is getting through as last week.¡± ¡°Oh that,¡± she seemed unconcerned. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯d be hard for you to tell. I¡¯ve been ramping up the power as you¡¯ve improved since day one. To be honest, I¡¯m surprised you were oblivious to the changes. I wasn¡¯t trying to hide it, and the ones I was firing today had a bite to them. If you had of let one of them hit unweakened, it would have gone straight through you.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been doing what? And you didn¡¯t tell me!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t look so pissed off. My job¡¯s to train you. What I did was no more extreme than adding extra weights in the gym.¡± ¡°But I get to see the progress there. I know I¡¯m improving. Here, I had no idea.¡± ¡°You should have noticed, but - who cares, Tom! You¡¯re not listening. You did it!¡± ¡°But¡­¡± ¡°Tom, stop! Stop questioning the process. You know the oath I swore. This approach was for the best. You were in the zone. I didn¡¯t want to risk breaking that. After all, I promised you that you¡¯d finish today, and warning you would have put that at risk.¡± He forced himself to reassess what was happening. Why did it matter if the training method had been hidden? Ultimately, success and progress were the only currency that counted. ¡°So, I¡¯m done with being a target?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± She clapped her hands. ¡°Yes, now we get to the fun stuff.¡± He was suddenly next to the lake with the lazy goldfish. The sun was bright, the shadows deep, and butterflies fluttered everywhere. It was idyllic. April was with him. Her refined angelic form looked awkward in the rustic surroundings. ¡°Your job,¡± she told him. ¡°Is to kill butterflies. The white ones die when you absorb precognition energy, and the orange and black patterned type are the opposite. For them you need to infuse precognition energy into them.¡± ¡°You want me to kill butterflies?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not butterflies.¡± She opened her hand, and one of them sat in the middle of it. Two white wings and then, instead of a body, the creature had a spheric button of energy the size of a pea. ¡°They¡¯re constructs. Here,¡± she held it out so he could touch it. ¡°Absorb it like you did with the needles.¡± From where he stood, he could feel the energy just like the one the needles had. Carefully, he reached across and tapped it, and the moment he made contact he sucked the power into him. The ball imploded, then vanished. The wings puffed to ash and then to nothing. April beamed: ¡°Easy.¡± She waved her hand. ¡°Now get to it. Remember, you need to kill the orange ones as well.¡± This exercise, Tom was excited to see, had a component of physical training to it, because he had to catch the elusive butterflies. In the first ten minutes of effort, he caught a grand total of one, and then April teleported him to the next fight. After killing the wolf-like creature and octoleg pairing, he found himself back next to the lake rather than the caf¨¦. He didn¡¯t complain, and chatted with April as he hunted butterflies. ¡°Catch one of each,¡± she told him. ¡°And then use your ability to transfer the energy between them to eliminate both in one step.¡± Tom¡¯s agility failed. He was unable to grab one of the orange ones to follow her instructions. They were a fraction faster than the white ones, but that was enough. The battles, caf¨¦ breaks and lake sessions blended together, and then he was suddenly pulled from a fight with three octolegs. ¡°What?¡± he asked in surprise. ¡°I was winning.¡± He wasn¡¯t convinced that was strictly true: while he hadn¡¯t taken any damage, nor had he dealt any out. He had been in a holding pattern, and he was pretty sure the monsters were going to outlast him. Nope, there had been no winning built into the equation. All he had been doing was delaying the moment until he was overwhelmed. April only grinned at that. She knew exactly how badly that fight had been progressing: ¡°Well, I sent you against three as a joke, but if you were finding them that easy I¡¯ll start you off against them next time. For now, you¡¯re out of time and have to return to the real world.¡± ¡°Wait, don¡¯t make me fight three. I wasn''t winning, I was losing!¡± She laughed, and the world blinked, and then Dimitri was guiding him away from the trial. Chapter 33.1 – Extended Training Tom took control back from Little Ta as the mathematics lesson ended. Over the course of the last hour, he had mostly remained in the pseudo system room, only regaining command every six minutes to practice his magic when his pool filled up. He hadn¡¯t wanted to waste any of the precious mana. ¡°Now for your favourite part of the day,¡± Dimitri told them. ¡°If you were paying attention, you would know that Instructor Susan has set off on an expedition.¡± Around half the kids seemed surprised by the news; he, of course wasn¡¯t. They had been told that it was going to happen on three separate occasions. ¡°Do you think that means you get free play?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°No,¡± Dimitri told the enthusiastic boy, laughing as he did so. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t mean more free time. It means we can broaden your horizons. For the next month, we¡¯ll let you experience all the different programs that we offer. Most of the rooms and trainers can¡¯t handle forty kids at once, so you¡¯ll be split into smaller groups. There¡¯s no set way of doing it, no defined order, but we¡¯ll make sure everyone gets to experience everything. The order is fluid, because, if another expert like instructor Susan comes through, they¡¯ll get priority time to train you.¡± Then, based on a list held by all the different volunteers, Tom found himself in the group of around twenty. They were led to a massive isolation room. It was about four times larger than usual, and the floor was soft and spongy. The class was run by a thin, wiry man who taught wrestling. He was a no-nonsense kind of person, and there were no rules, no cautions about eye-gouging or hitting below the belt, it was open slather. Everyone was to fight until they won. To someone with earth sensibilities, it might have been deemed to be unnecessarily violent, potentially even dangerously so. On the other hand, there were two healing crystals available, so you could push harder than you could on earth. If someone suffered injuries, that wasn¡¯t a problem. Any damage a four-year-old could inflict was easily fixed. The trainer would set them up in a grappling position, and then they would try to subdue each other. It was not fair by a long shot. In his first fight, the starting position had Pa at his back with his arm already around Tom¡¯s throat. He was choked out in moments. That was the worst beginning situation that he received. For the other contests, the setup was fairer, and, because they were in an isolation room, Tom triggered his ring. Electricity crackled through his muscles, causing them to tense and relax unevenly. It absolutely screwed with his coordination, which was exactly what he wanted. Using it was a risk, but Dimitri had told him to play with it, and, from what he had been able to tell so far, the magic was purely internal to him. He had spent half an hour using it on the highest intensity in the isolation room to confirm the assumption. Even on that setting which had him jerking like he was being tasered there, had been no evidence he could sense of either electricity or the magic when he studied his reflection in the mirror. The artefacts designed for independent measurement that he had retrieved from the top cupboard showed a lack of reaction as well. The fact that it inflicted the status on him via internal channels meant it should be almost impossible to be noticed by external examination. Which is what his independent experiments had shown. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Tom knew the system well enough to know that no protection was absolute. Someone with dedicated skills could pierce the veil, but within the isolation room the only risk was the instructor, and, given how careful every adult was not to do anything to risk discovering a reincarnated one, he was confident the trainer would not use any skills that were powerful enough to pick up on the magic. The purpose of the ring was to equalise his abilities down to a more age-appropriate level. Despite trying his very best to win the fights, he was only good enough to be grouped in the middle. Pa was in the top group along with Ma, with Bir being in the bottom one. She was petite and had resisted the temptation to use fate. That had resulted in her suffering numerous heavy losses. What was the most impressive part in Tom¡¯s mind was that she had clearly made a conscious decision. He had previously seen her use fate for the smallest goals, from emptying her entire pool on a prank to spending a single point to help herself run a balance beam. She knew what she was doing, and, despite two of her fights leaving her in tears, she did not touch the resource, even though her reserves were almost full. The restraint she was showing demonstrated remarkable wisdom. It was also the right call. Resorting to fate would have been ineffective. For it to help in a wrestling match, it needed to act on a living being, and humans, naturally burnt some of their own to counter the threat, as most creatures did when attacked by fate. If she had used fate, it would almost certainly have been negated by the person she fought. Instinctively, she had restrained herself. It was impressive. Somehow, she had developed a working knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of directed fate use. It was a mechanism both simple and complex. Fate shifted probabilities. More variables in the environment and a longer, more complicated fight provided more opportunities to drive the desired outcomes at lower costs. A vanilla engagement, on the flip side, would provide fewer chances for it to act. Wrestling one person on a consistent level floor represented almost the worst case scenario. There were no weapons that could suffer catastrophic failure mid-battle, no stones to slip under your feet at the last moment. None of those levers were available. Getting fate to do anything would have been expensive, so she had resisted the temptation and suffered the heavy knocks instead. The class ended, and the instructor reminded everyone that he ran regular sessions. While it had been fun, it was not a skill he wanted to specialise in. He planned on basing his build around teleportation skills partially to avoid exactly this. The training on offer would not enhance his deadliness, so Tom put it out of his mind. The next day they were taken to receive classical martial arts training. It was taught by a fourteen-year-old who had been training since he was five. His skills were impressive, and his grace told Tom that he had gone well beyond the point of mundane mastery. If any sensei on earth thought they could fight this boy, they would have been defeated in moments. At a minimum, he possessed a high-levelled Mastery Skill, and, based on the blows he landed against the dummy, he also had multiple other skills on top of that. These abilities included one to increase the power of strikes, both kicks and punches. Another sped up the attacks ¨C so much so that, to Tom, the teenager became a blur when he activated it. Finally, there was an enhanced movement speed that let him cross the isolation room in less than a quarter of a second, which meant that, briefly, he had been travelling at over a hundred kilometres per hour. He was scary. The boy bowed to them: ¡°This room is dedicated to the training of mixed marital arts. During the daytime, we offer classes every hour. I encourage you all to attend.¡± He practiced a punch and when he finished, the air boomed like with a cartoon superhero. ¡°Come and learn true power. We also finish with lollies.¡± As they left for the history lesson, everyone was excited by the idea. Over half the class declared they would be going the next day. Privately, Tom didn¡¯t believe that for a moment. They were four- and five-year-olds; a different shiny bubble would get their attention before they went through with their promise. Chapter 33.2 – Extended Training Lunch and the isolation room went quickly, and Tom met up with the others at the main obstacle course. They were attempting the fourth one, and it was rated for aged seven and up. Tom didn¡¯t use his ring, but kept his performance below that of his friends. Bir had used hardly any fate, so Pa snuck through to win, and promptly showed his muscle. His flexing was completely uninspiring. Bir was laughing hard in response in any case ¨C then, abruptly, her laughter cut out and she clutched his hand. Tom followed her gaze to see what had spooked her. Three teenaged boys had entered the room. Pa noticed their sudden sombreness and traced their gaze to the new entries. A frown crossed his face and he subtly stepped between the two of them and the new entries, like a bodyguard. It took Tom a moment to dredge up the relevant memory of who they were. Bir¡¯s uncharacteristic fear suddenly made sense when he did so. He could remember running to dinner, going around a corner and having his feet land on a patch of sleek ice. Little Ta had instantly lost his balance because of the loss of traction and helplessly crashed into the door frame. These three had been the ones watching and laughing. They were clearly responsible for the ice. ¡°Move it, cry-baby,¡± Arnali snarled at him. Even without his prior life memories and the mental strength that went with being an adult, Little Ta was tough. But there was a difference between tough and stupid, and he had recognised the kids and the real threat of violence they represented. Despite how badly his leg hurt, he had had struggled to his feet and then hobbled away. They had let him go and then waited for the next victim. At the gymnasium, Little Ta had gone straight up to the nearest volunteer and asked about them. She was a matronly woman, with dark skin and sympathetic eyes, and she had frowned when she heard about the ice and the boy¡¯s age. ¡°Stay clear of them, sweety. Arnali and Declan I like. They¡¯re generally reasonable and competent, but recently they¡¯ve aligned themselves to Boreas, and he¡¯s bad news. They would flee at the first opportunity and rush to find an adult kind of terrible. Listen to me carefully, sweetie pie. You stay clear of them.¡± ¡°But why?¡± ¡°Why, sweetie? It¡¯s complicated. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with Boreas. He¡¯s been a problem since he got here. The other two? They¡¯re with him because they¡¯re greedy, or weak-willed, or something like that. Boreas is the only child of Maurice. She¡¯s a high-levelled adventurer, not terrifying enough to be famous, but she¡¯s super rich and she dotes on her only son. She showers him with gifts. Rumour has it that he received a tier five ice skill. Crazy to have given that to a kid, but she did, and that means he¡¯s going to be powerful once he becomes an adult. The other two presumably follow him, hoping to get a reward from her. Listen, sweetie, just stay away from him. Okay, do you understand? If they enter a room you¡¯re in, you leave straight away.¡± Tom pulled himself out of his memories and studied the newcomers with significantly more caution. They were here now, and the three of them were laughing, joking, and thankfully ignoring them. ¡°Arnali, do you really think you can beat me?¡± Boreas said, punching his friend on the shoulder with a malicious level of force. Arnali didn¡¯t even flinch and shot him a sunny grin: ¡°Beat you, nope. I¡¯m going to absolutely crush you.¡± Tom couldn¡¯t see it, but then skills were the great equaliser and meant you couldn¡¯t rate anything by how one looked. Physically speaking, Boreas had the superior physique. He was taller and thicker than the other boy, and it was all muscle. And, if the rumours of Maurice¡¯s investment were accurate, he had almost certainly also drunk numerous elixirs to increase his physical attributes. Given Tom¡¯s knowledge of the Vitality Fount title, that was bad for Boreas in the long run, but titles were not commonly talked about, and even if Maurice knew, she might not care. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. If Tom ever had a child of his own, he wouldn¡¯t want him or her to go through what it took to get that particular title. If Emily, his little sister, wanted to do it he would do everything he could to convince her otherwise. Not everything was about blind strength, and, this close to the end of the competition, unless you had been reincarnated, your childhood should at least in part be dedicated to building the foundation for the rest of your life. That included not subjecting yourself to permanent mental scarring. Pa tugged his hand hard. Tom looked up, startled, and Pa¡¯s head jerked furiously toward the exit. Slowly, the three of them crept to safety. Thankfully, the three newcomers couldn¡¯t care less about them, but that didn¡¯t stop Tom from watching them the whole time. They took off at once. They were racing on the most difficult course, one set up to allow a contest. Each had their own dedicated lane. Tom was stunned by their speed. Boreas had leapt at least a metre and a half into the air from a standing jump. Arnali was not as flashy, but Tom could see skills at play. While he clearly didn¡¯t have the same attribute advantage of Boreas, his weight seemed to be significantly less than the other boys¡¯. He leapt almost as high, but the rubber matting hardly bent when he did, which was very different from its reaction to the other two boys. A stray backhand from Boreas caught Arnali on the shoulder. It was deliberate, and while it lacked the force of the friendly punch of earlier, that didn¡¯t matter. Simultaneously, the ground under Arnali¡¯s feet was turned to ice and he was sent sliding out of control. Between that, and his reduced mass, even that light blow was enough to send him crashing to the floor. Arnali sprinted back to the start and moved through the course even faster. His reduced mass allowing him to do athletic feats the other two couldn¡¯t get close to replicating. Declan, on the other hand, struggled and was clearly outclassed by his friends. His persistence and body control would have made a gymnast from Earth proud, but without any magical assistance it looked pedestrian. He scaled the dangling four metre rope twice as slow as the others. He still seemed to almost fly up it, though, as slow was only relative. It was when Declan reached the combat dummies that Tom¡¯s opinion on his relative position changed. The obstacle had three taunt ropes, a metre and a half between them, and a series of combat dummies that were designed to attack and drive you to leaping from rope to rope in order to get past them. Declan didn¡¯t bother engaging with the obstruction like he was supposed to. Instead, he cast force spells as he ran across the tightrope. Shields materialised and prevented the mechanical opponents from striking him. Bir tugged on his arm insistently, and Tom realised that he had stopped at the door. Boreas had been knocked off by the combat dummies. Declan was in the lead. His friend was right: he didn¡¯t want to be here when they finished the course. Together, the children ran to make sure they weren¡¯t around if there was any fall out. They didn¡¯t discuss anything, but instead went straight to the gymnasium and played bubbles until dinner. The following day specialised training was an axe class taught by a large, bulky man who looked like a wood chipper that would be at home in the country fair competitions. The kind of man that could hack through a metre-thick stump in a ridiculously short period. Pa enjoyed the lesson, but Tom, who had no intention of specialising in the axe did not. The next day they were taught archery by a woman who moved like how he imagined an Elf would, but lacked the ears. Maybe, in rebellion to her looks, she also possessed a foul mouth that was only acceptable because everything she said went over the heads of four-year-olds. The entire process, the procession of experts, was an eye opener. The orphanage only contained five hundred students, but it seemed to have over a hundred volunteers floating through. All of them were there willingly, and all had the knowledge and experience to teach children a valuable skill. What was more impressive was that it was not a one-off thing. If you liked an activity, you could sign up to daily courses for the next ten years, and the way it was taught was deliberate. Tom had no doubt that it would result in you obtaining multiple skills by the end of the course. The abilities of that teenager proficient in martial arts demonstrated just how effective such training could be. The following day, after getting through reading, their class was split into four chunks. Tom, Pa, Bir and six others were directed toward an isolation room in the twelve-year-olds¡¯ wing. In a happy gaggle, they entered the room to find out what they were learning this time. Tom froze. He was not the only one. Both of his friends were likewise caught like a deer in headlights. Their instructor was younger than usual, a brunette girl with a white streak in her hair. ¡°Hi, everyone. I¡¯m Corrine, and today¡¯s not going to be pleasant.¡± There was a ding as the isolation room shut. Chapter 33.3 – Extended Training She was still smiling, wearing that fake McDonald¡¯s customer service look. The notion of being locked in an isolation room with her made the hair on the back of his neck rise. ¡°I¡¯m not happy to be doing this, but you have to understand reality. You¡¯re weak and untrained, and these sessions are included to drive that fact home. There¡¯s no escaping them, and they¡¯ll be scheduled quarterly until you graduate. The rules are simple. Show me something special, and you¡¯ll walk out unharmed. Fail, and you¡¯ll suffer the consequences.¡± ¡°What¡¯s special?¡± Pa asked with narrow eyes. Corrine shrugged: ¡°Anything really. Um... Great technical skills or an impressive ability. As this your first session, any magic qualifies.¡± She punched slowly and her hand rippled with energy. It was nothing like what the older boy had done, but they could feel the power. ¡°Provided it¡¯s combat orientated, it¡¯ll count. I won¡¯t be picky. I don¡¯t want to do this.¡± She pointed at a quiet, studious boy who was the best in their class at reading. Tom had seen him read full sentences almost perfectly. If he wasn¡¯t so average at everything else, Tom would have investigated him to see if he had been reincarnated. As it was, he was just a child with that single trick. ¡°Surprise me,¡± Corrine said. ¡°I¡­ I can read.¡± ¡°With a combat ability¡±¡¯¡± ¡°But I don¡¯t know how to fight. I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve never been taught¡± ¡°Try,¡± she ordered. ¡°As I said, I don¡¯t want to be here, but I¡¯m being paid and I need those credits. I¡¯m not going to do a bad job and put that at risk.¡± The boy glanced around, grabbed an axe from the wall and attacked her. Corrine laughed as she blocked and dodged. Eventually, after a furious two minutes of fighting, a kick sent the weapon flying away. ¡°Enough. The axe surprised me. You can leave.¡± She did something, and the door opened. The next girl seized an axe. Corrine played with her for a few minutes. Then she scowled: ¡°Is that it?¡± The girl looked petrified as she sucked in breaths. It was clear from the expression that she had nothing extra to offer. Corrine closed on her. She squealed in panic and tried to swing the axe, but it was way too slow and too telegraphed to do any damage. The older girl negated it through offense. The first kick struck the thigh with a meaty thwark. The small girl doubled over, clutching her leg, the axe dropping from her fingers forgotten. Corrine frowned as she looked pointedly at the dropped weapon. Tom internally winced at the disappointed expression in the older girl¡¯s eye. From personal experience, he knew she was dangerous. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. A violent push sent the younger girl crashing to the ground and then, with a look of cool indifference she stomped hard on the hand when it flopped away from the body. There was a crack. Corrine stepped away and studied the young girl clinically. Tom wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought he saw embarrassment and regret: ¡°Rules are that I have to make it memorable.¡± There was silence for almost ten seconds while everyone stared in horror, attempting to process what had happened. Then the girl had been silently crying the entire time. Her lips moving but no sound emerging. He remembered Emily growing up. If she cried straight away, it was fine. If she delayed¡­ ¡°Get her to the healing crystal,¡± Pa ordered. The girl started howling. ¡°No, she needs better medical treatment than that.¡± Corrine said and picked the girl up. The isolation room opened, and she was dumped outside. The screaming was abruptly cut off as the doors shut. ¡°Medics are on the way. What just happened occurred because she didn¡¯t impress me. Make sure the rest of you do better.¡± She is doing this to help. Tom started the chant in his head. This is a different world. Short-term pain for long-term gain. This is her being helpful. It was like a prayer and maintaining the internal monologue was the only thing keeping the surging anger suppressed. One by one, Corrine chewed through everyone else. Three more were dumped out of the room in horrifying pain. The next victim was a dark-skinned boy. They fought like normal. Two minutes of standard sparring. ¡°Show me something,¡± Corrine demanded, her face whiter than usual. The child didn¡¯t respond. He was focused on his opponent. Corrine blasted forward to land a debilitating blow to end the fight, and her fist struck a shield of energy. The black boy stumbled back, clutching his head in agony. The older girl froze, then a smile lit her face. ¡°Very good. A magic shield, that¡¯s a great skill. You can go.¡± She opened the isolation room. ¡°I assume that came from a not-parent?¡± The kid nodded. ¡°It¡¯ll go on your file. It won¡¯t help you next time, but it will help when you become an adult. You¡¯ve got three months. Develop something before then.¡± He fled. See. It¡¯s fair. There¡¯s no need to get upset over it. If we show something, we¡¯re spared. The next girl¡¯s fight ended with a shattered hip. Tom turned away. Blood was beating in his head like rising orchestral music, demanding action. He hit the wall next to him. The slight amount of pain did nothing. He used Dampen Senses, leaving him blind, and counted to ten. She has summoned medics. The girl is being looked after. She is doing this to help. Short-term pain for long-term gain. Because there was no other choice, Tom released Dampen Senses. He might be called up next, and if he was using that ability Corrine would notice, and he couldn¡¯t afford that. The wailing girl was gone. Corrine was back at her customary spot. It was her, and the three of them left. ¡°Who do I pick next?¡± Corrine mused with a smile. Then she pointed at Bir. Tom didn¡¯t know what to do. His friend walked forward. She looked so tiny next to the larger girl. Despite that, she approached her with confidence. Tom, with his considerable experience, understood how misplaced that faith was. Bir was going to get crushed. His barely-controlled temper didn''t like that. He could feel that pit of anger, the one his period of Dampened Senses had reduced to an ember, tremble. It was a banked fire, and instinctively he knew it wouldn¡¯t take much wind to make it flare up and turn it into an inferno. Fate rushed out of Bir. Corrine shook her head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t surprise me. That¡¯s a core human trait.¡± She used her own fate. About a quarter of what Bir had invested, but, for a defensive shield, he knew it would be more than enough. ¡°Oh fuck,¡± Tom whispered. The whisper, that foreign presence that amplified his fury, started to ramp up. Bir was smiling happily. She thought her fate trick was going to work, and she stepped forward. Tom didn¡¯t need his precognition affinity to predict the future. She¡¯s doing this to help. He told himself desperately. It was easy to say but harder to believe. Chapter 34 – Revelations Bir¡¯s confidence was terrifying. She had a happy smile and entered the fight as though her victory was assured. It was terrifying, how it broke his heart. Tom knew what was about to happen, and he hated it. He had only known her for a couple of months, but he had adopted her, even if she didn¡¯t know it. As far as he was concerned, she was part of his family, and he was cognisant of what was happening. The fight started, and Corrine taunted her as she easily blocked all of Bir¡¯s strikes. ¡°Show me something, anything.¡± ¡°Do something impressive.¡± ¡°Anytime now. This isn¡¯t good enough.¡± ¡°Is that fate trick really all you¡¯ve got?¡± The smile on Bir¡¯s lips faltered as the one-sided fight continued. Corrine wasn¡¯t striking back, but that¡¯s what she had done for the six fights before this. Defend for two minutes, then finish with prejudice. Bir had been exercising her fate to help her development, but not in the overt direct way he had with his spell development. Instead, she had used it to help her exercise, and that had aided her in gaining some early muscle memory and endurance. On earth, she would have been equivalent to a child who had been doing daily gymnastics since she had turned two. That strength, that balance shone through in her attacks, particularly when it came to her endurance. By this point of the battle, all the other challengers had been visibly flagging, but she was still going strong. ¡°Your endurance is good, but not enough to surprise me.¡± Corrine proclaimed. ¡°Sorry,¡± she looked at him and Pa as she said that. ¡°Sorry, but you know what¡¯s next.¡± ¡°No, please, don¡¯t. Please!¡± Bir begged. Tom shut his eyes and triggered Dampen Senses. It was a risk, but he knew what would happen if he watched her be brutalised. He could tell himself that it was for the best, but he couldn¡¯t witness an older kid hurt her. If he did, he would crack. The ring drowned out all sound by creating a crushing roar of white noise, and his eyes went completely out of focus. She is okay. Nothing is happening to Bir, he told himself. He didn¡¯t believe it, but with his senses blocked he didn¡¯t know for sure and that was enough to stop the anger boiling over. He counted to a hundred and opened his eyes. ¡°Can he fucking hear me? Feel me,¡± A finger poked his forehead. ¡°Rage boy, you there? Anyone home?¡± ¡°I am,¡± Tom answered warily. He instantly assessed the state of the room. Bir was gone, and there was no fresh blood on the floor. She probably just got escorted out of the room. He knew the words were most likely a lie, but the rage didn¡¯t have sufficient evidence to trigger a boil over. It listened, and he won the fight. ¡°Good, let¡¯s fucking get this done.¡± He stared in shock at Corrine. Since when did she swear like a sailor? ¡°We already don¡¯t have enough time. Fucking Dim shouldn¡¯t have sent fucking nine of you. Arsehole knew, but didn¡¯t give a shit.¡± His internal alarms were going off. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± There were so many warning signals, the foul language, the shift of attitude, the fact she wasn¡¯t testing them. Corrine snorted: ¡°I¡¯m doing my job. We¡¯re going to have a fucking incredible heart to heart, hug and cry afterwards. Without any of the emotional bullshit. Got it?¡± ¡°No,¡± Tom answered, honestly. ¡°I have no idea.¡± ¡°What are you saying?¡± Pa asked. Corrine chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m saying, I know that both you, Kang.¡± She looked at Pa, ¡°And you, Tom, have been reincarnated.¡± Tom felt his blood freeze. If he hadn¡¯t watched her dismantle seven people before him effortlessly, he would have attacked her now. As it was, he knew how futile such an attempt would be. ¡°There, your secret¡¯s out, and we can stop the bullshit acting and talk frankly. And don¡¯t fucking criticise my language. I spend all my fucking life censoring myself. If I¡¯m in friendly company, I¡¯ll talk however I fucking want.¡± Neither of them said anything - Tom because he was trying to understand what he was hearing, Pa didn¡¯t know what the other boy was thinking. But then, he was either a little child confused out of his mind, or someone who had been reincarnated and stunned into similar silence by Corrine¡¯s bizarre behaviour. ¡°Fucking thank god you have some brains in your skulls. I half expected my words to cause you dumb fucks to confess, which would have been moronic. Silence is golden. Mind you, your recalcitrance is pointless, given that you,¡± she stared at Tom, ¡°Decided it was okay to use a Dampen Senses ring at full power in front of someone you didn¡¯t know. I guess, little rage boy is cultivating the mentally challenged persona?¡± He hesitated. ¡°How did you know what I was doing?¡± Corrine laughed in his face. ¡°There you go, proving the fucking point. No brains. Are you serious? Are your instincts that terrible that you react and, in doing so, confess to an interrogator¡¯s guesses? No, I didn¡¯t know for sure that you were using your ring. But I do now¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Pa asked. He was inching toward the axe that Bir had dropped. Tom knew he should have been seeking a similar advantage, but he also recognised how pointless it would be. A practice weapon wouldn¡¯t help them here. It was all academic, because she noticed: ¡°Stop that shit. The axe won¡¯t help you, and it¡¯s not necessary. I¡¯m not here to hurt you. Take my hand.¡± She held them out. One for each of them. Tom caught Pa¡¯s eyes, and the other boy shook his head. ¡°Not a fucking brain cell between you. I could kill you without issues.¡± There was a roar of flames behind her that made him blink and tear up in response to the latent heat. They died down at a flick of her finger. Compared to where Tom was at currently, he was beyond outmatched. Is this what a rank seventy assassin could do? Perfectly pretend to be someone else and wield deadly magic in addition to physical power? ¡°Take my hands. I don¡¯t have cooties.¡± She laughed. Both of them realised that they had no choice. There was no harm in cooperating. He took the one offered him and he felt an electrical shock, or something that mimicked an electrical shock at least. It wasn¡¯t real, because his muscles hadn¡¯t constricted and, with all the work he was doing with the ring, he recognised the difference. ¡°You both sensed that, hey¡± Corrine, or the thing pretending to be her, said cheerfully. ¡°It¡¯s a passive acknowledgment of our reincarnated status. I don¡¯t expect you to believe words, and, if you did, you would have been idiots who don¡¯t deserve to be reincarnated. Now, fucking focus, this bit¡¯s important. I want you to reach into your core and actively push out and attempt to make a connection to me.¡± What she was suggesting wasn¡¯t any mystical process he was aware of, and nor would it be binding in any shape or form. He still glanced down at his feet to confirm there was no visible circle. ¡°No, I don¡¯t trust you.¡± Pa said defiantly. She rolled her eyes. ¡°Fucking paranoid shits.¡± She was smiling broadly, like they had finally acted in a way that deserved some respect. ¡°I swear by the GODs that I am not attempting an action that will harm humanity.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Tom felt the oath settle. It had been sworn by the GODs, and his interpretation was part of the binding. Whoever she was and whatever her ploy, was it was guaranteed not to harm humanity. That also guaranteed his own life, because him being killed would have represented a negative number of ranking points. It was safe, so he did exactly what he had been instructed to. No energy moved that he could perceive, but there was a ding in any case. Confusion rocked through him. He didn¡¯t know what was going down. ¡°Good,¡± Corrine said, dropping her hands. ¡°I fucking hate inducting newbies. Geniuses? Have you worked out what¡¯s happening yet?¡± Pa nodded. Tom didn¡¯t. ¡°Well, go into your system room and check.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a system room.¡± ¡°Shut up, Kang.¡± Tom had seen enough. The pseudo system room was not like the official version where, when you entered it, the transition was obvious to everyone. He could go in and out as often as he wanted, and no one would ever know. He retreated into the mental space and saw that an addendum had been added to the single title he could see in there: You have positively identified Corrine Hayley Roberts as a fellow reincarnated. You will be incapable of deliberately or accidentally revealing her reincarnated status to anyone else. Note any attempt to circumvent this restriction goes against DEUS¡¯s wishes and will count as blasphemy. Corrine has also positively identified you, and the same conditions apply to her. Tom returned to the real world ,as he knew exactly how punitive the time dilation in the pseudo room was, and he needed time to think; time to understand the feelings flooding through him. Corrine was not an assassin. She was one of them, and her actions to date made no sense to him. Outrage in his heart vied with relief. She was not a killer, no; but her new status made her behaviour even more reprehensible. The conflicting emotions locked his muscles. He stared at her, his contradictory feelings clear on his face. He felt like screaming to release the pressure. For a moment there, he had been sure he had been about to die. ¡°Good rage boy, he knows the truth. What about you, Kang?¡± Pa¡¯s eyes tightened, and understanding went through Tom. Pa had definitely been reincarnated, and presumably, in his previous life he bore the name of Kang. His brain made more connections. The occasional static electricity that zapped between them when they touched suddenly had an additional context to it. That, he realised, was an acknowledgment of their shared circumstances and not a result of the fabric they wore, as he had assumed before. Not just Pa, he realised. Corrine had blamed Dim earlier for their class size. Dim, Dimitri - the same sparks occurred on the few occasions he had made contact with the older volunteer. He retreated momentarily into his system room. He had half expected the title to have updated to reflect the connections he had made, but it was unchanged. That didn¡¯t mean anything, not by itself, but there was a way to validate at least half of it. His hand rose, and he grabbed Pa¡¯s arm while repeating the process that Corrine had described. Primarily, he was making his core reach out to the other boy. There was a ding. Elation ran through him. He had been right; and, if Pa was a reincarnated one, then that was great news: it meant Tom wouldn¡¯t be doing this alone. He would have someone to confide in. He checked the title, just in case the ding was for something else. You have positively identified Xu Kang as a fellow reincarnated one. Internally, he screamed in delight. He wasn¡¯t sure what this changed, apart from its impact on his mental health. Corrine had seen the movement and was nodding in a very satisfied manner. He stared at her with hard eyes. She was one of them, she had been reincarnated too, but he remembered her picking on little kids. There was something wrong with her, something off. It was possible the stress of coming back to life had broken her. He was not sure how to manage her. All too vividly, he recalled their first encounter and how she had made Bir cry. He couldn¡¯t stay silent: ¡°If this is true, why the hell were you picking on kids?¡± Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned: ¡°I don¡¯t like your tone. I was looking after you, you fucking newbie.¡± Tom remembered what she had done. An older kid being a bully, that was one thing. He could live with that. But with Corrine being an adult, her actions were not something to be overlooked. It went from a potential excusable mistake of youth to something twisted. ¡°Looking after me?¡± He challenged. ¡°How do you figure that?¡± ¡°Because you had to be tested.¡± ¡°You made an innocent four-year-old cry,¡± he yelled. ¡°Easy, rage boy. You might be a reincarnated one, but I can still wipe the floor with you.¡± ¡°She was a kid. Do you get off on hurting harmless children?¡± He waved at the blood spots on the ground to illustrate his point. Outrage filled her face. Her cheeks went bright red. ¡°No, you fucking shit. I don¡¯t fucking get my jollies off doing that. You arrogant cunt, you take that back you, dumb bastard of a whore.¡± ¡°Then why hurt a kid?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m doing my fucking job!¡± she yelled at him. ¡°Saving fucking humanity and doing my best for them.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t have to.¡± ¡°Shut up and listen,¡± she demanded. ¡°You think I need credits? I don¡¯t and this.¡± She gestured angrily at the blood spots. ¡°It¡¯s a shit duty, a soul-crushing one, and I only applied so that I could give you two a briefing without leaving a trail for anyone else to follow. The benefits of this meeting to humanity¡¯s position was too significant for me to not do over something that matters as little as my own stupid feelings. As for that first day, that was the same thing. I was checking that you guys weren¡¯t going to do anything to get yourself killed. Ensuring you heard the lecture at the ritual. Rage boy, to be honest, you worried me, but I decided your acting was good enough.¡± Tom stared her down incredulously: ¡°You were being a bitch to help us?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯m not a fucking degenerate cunt. I hated hurting the kids, but it was duty.¡± Surprisingly, he was not consumed with fury. He was in control of himself, but he remembered the tears running down her cheeks. Corrine¡¯s eyes flicked away, and Tom struck. Fist in a ball, he stepped forward and unleashed a lightning-fast jab. She used a dodge skill to sway out of the way effortlessly: ¡°Cut that shit, rage boy. We¡¯ve got more important things to talk about.¡± ¡°But you¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, I picked on the innocent because picking on you directly wouldn¡¯t have got me anywhere. All of us reincarnators are tough fuckers. I can¡¯t target a reincarnator directly. They¡¯re not going to break cover over something like being hurt. But making your friends suffer, or some random innocent girl at a dining room table... That kind of thing gets our blood pumping. We might be resilient, but most of us are suckers for the innocent. I needed to make sure you wouldn¡¯t lose it, that you wouldn¡¯t run to a volunteer and be articulate, or try to pull rank, or something ridiculous like that. I was testing you. If you had failed, I would have had this conversation earlier. Lots of us, given our backgrounds, aren¡¯t great actors. You two did great, rage boy antics aside. By the way, what the fuck¡¯s with that? If that was intended to improve your cover, it doesn¡¯t do shit.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Tom admitted. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± Kang asked, concerned. ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡± Tom shook his head: ¡°I have missing memories. I¡¯m assuming that it¡¯s related to that.¡± ¡°Fucking figure it out.¡± Corrine snapped. ¡°It draws too much attention, even if it doesn¡¯t directly reveal you to be one of us. But we haven¡¯t got time to discuss that issue any further. I need to bring you up to speed.¡± She looked up at the ceiling. ¡°And I don¡¯t know where to fucking start.¡± Kang sat on the ground, cross-legged, and gestured for them to join him: ¡°Maybe tell us about how this works?¡± Tom cleared his throat: ¡°First of all, how dangerous is the threat of assassins?¡± She laughed: ¡°Don¡¯t fucking go around telling everyone you¡¯ve been reincarnated, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your view on developing quickly?¡± Pa asked. No, the right name is Kang, Tom corrected himself in his own head. She frowned at that, and also sat down. Rather than being the only one still standing, Tom followed. ¡°It¡¯s a good question,¡± she admitted finally. ¡°You have eyes, right. I assume you¡¯ve used them. You can benchmark yourself, can¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Kang answered flatly. ¡°The older children are far more powerful than I expected. I think we can probably get away with almost anything.¡± ¡°Yeah, some of them are geniuses. There¡¯s a normie that developed a water domain at thirteen six years ago. She was an absolute freak.¡± She pointed at the filing like cabinets that contained the spell hierarchy and spell forms. ¡°You¡¯ve seen them, yeah?¡± Both Kang and Tom nodded. ¡°They make the rapid advances possible. There¡¯s kids that find them early, and that gives us a lot of flexibility. My rule of thumb is this, my primary skill.¡± She clicked her fingers and a small flame appeared. ¡°I don¡¯t tell anyone how far I¡¯ve progressed with it. They know I have some fire, because at the end-of-year tournaments I¡¯ve selected fire spells and skills for the last couple of years.¡± She laughed. ¡°They think that¡¯s all I¡¯ve got, but really they¡¯re just cover.¡± The flame grew into a ribbon and coiled around her like a snake. It burned so hot and bright he had to look away. ¡°I¡¯ve got a tier four skill and the spells up to tier three already. By the time I hit fifteen, I¡¯m going to have a domain. But that¡¯s what I¡¯ve hidden. Once I¡¯m out in the world, I¡¯ll pretend that I got awarded a fire domain from a trial or bought it with experience, but that won¡¯t happen for years. My secondary abilities¡­¡± She waved her hand, and a breeze swept the room, ruffling their hair. ¡°And the martial fighting form are the ones I let everyone know about. Because of them, I¡¯m ranked fourth in my year. Not so high as to get unwanted attention, but sufficient for no one to raise an eyebrow if I place well in the combat tournaments. Not that I show even those off fully. If I did, I would be the clear number one, which is something I don¡¯t want to be known.¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Tom said simply. ¡°We want to be close to the top, but not the best¡±. Internally, his plan for what he was showing publicly came together. He would be a lightning hammer expert and pay homage to his mate, Thor. Corrine nodded: ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s recommended, but we all do it differently. What else¡­ so, spell hierarchies are an incredible resource. I recommend for you to take them seriously.¡± She pointed at the more obvious bookshelves. ¡°Those are worth reading, but when you do so, try to read between the lines. Finally, there¡¯s the weekly trial. To my mind, that¡¯s the key to supercharging everything. You can bring all your training together into a coherent whole in there.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve spoken to the administrator.¡± Tom volunteered immediately. ¡°I¡¯m learning a crafting skill and spear mastery, and have been since day one.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± Kang told them. ¡°Great. Now I want to talk about the fucking important stuff. For example, the secrets hidden in all the isolation rooms.¡± She looked up at the cupboards that Tom had already explored. Kang followed her gaze and appeared to be confused. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Is there a secret door up there?¡± ¡°Something like that,¡± Corrine confirmed with a small smile. She pulled out what looked like the glasses a crazy scientist might wear, complete with different magnifying lenses and coloured filters you could move into place. ¡°Try these on.¡± She held them out to Kang. Chapter 35 – Hidden Abilities. Pa, or Kang, as he probably wanted to be known as, stared at the artefact suspiciously: ¡°And what does this do?¡± She smiled. ¡°It lets you uncover the hidden.¡± ¡°I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s an illusion-breaker.¡± ¡°Put them on and look.¡± She pointed up. Tom¡¯s mind finally linked the different clues: Kang¡¯s inability to see them, the specialised artefact, his stupid assumption that the adults were being careless. There was clearly magic protecting the cupboards that must have failed in that first isolation room. ¡°This is about the cupboards, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°What cupboards?¡± Kang asked, confused. Corrine looked at him side eyed. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°How the fuck do you know about them? Wait! Was it you that went into the lair?¡± ¡°Um¡­ I might have.¡± ¡°You fucking idiot, you scared the shit out of Dim when you reflected his fear spell.¡± Mentally, he froze like a fox caught in the glare of a spotlight. More clues came together: the incongruity of that moment, the pressure he had felt, Dimitri¡¯s reaction. In a strange sort of way, the fact that he had reflected the spell made more sense than a third party acting. It had never felt rational that he had been spared when someone so much stronger than him had been affected. ¡°Do you have any fucking idea of the chaos you caused? Dim was convinced we were under attack. Luckily, Eden was in town. She swept the place and declared that the wards hadn¡¯t been breached and there were no signs of foreign influence. Anyone fucking else and Dim wouldn¡¯t have believed them, but he wasn¡¯t about to argue with her.¡± ¡°Eden?¡± Tom asked, while thinking about the conversation he had overheard on the first day. The person who they had been terrified of because she had effectively executed someone who had cut corners when giving the awakening lecture. ¡°Yes, that Eden. Eden of the fucking green. And you, you fucker, wasted six hours of her time.¡± ¡°Six hours of a hero of humanity¡¯s time,¡± Kang shook his head while wearing the ridiculous artefact. He kept staring up at the cupboard. ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate.¡± Corrine¡¯s focus shifted. ¡°What the fuck do you know about her?¡± ¡°Only a little. I¡¯ve spent a fair bit of time extracting everything I could from the memories of my younger self. I¡¯ve been absorbing them completely. I felt like the two selves were both me, and it felt right to unify the two personalities to make sure both of me had the same memories. So, the younger me experienced the older me¡¯s memories, and my adult brain interrogated those of the younger me. It means I know everything I¡¯ve overheard over the last couple of years, even in passing.¡± ¡°I did the same. It really helped to internalise the truth that we were the same people, same soul.¡± Tom listened to the two of them and flushed. He felt like he probably should have done that, too. He wondered how much context his laziness had been keeping from him as a result. While, logically, Kang¡¯s process yielded some superior results, he felt like his approach was better - at least, for himself. His method had not formalised anything, but his two near identical personalities had merged in any case. There had been a gulf of experience between them, but in both cases it had been his soul, so the differences weren¡¯t material. Besides, the organic approach to merging suited him better than what Kang and Corrine must have done. Kang nodded absently, not really listening to what Corrine had said. Instead, he was tapping the lenses, moving them into different positions. ¡°Is this working?¡± ¡°It usually takes ten minutes to get through.¡± Corrine seemed to have been put off-balance by Tom¡¯s revelations. ¡°Kang, about Eden. You definitely didn¡¯t know about her from your first life, did you?¡± The other boy shook his head. ¡°Nah, I died about two and a half years in. If she had emerged by then, news hadn¡¯t reached us yet.¡± Corrine sighed in relief. ¡°We all did, you know. Everyone reincarnated one had died within three years of getting here. Tom? You too?¡± ¡°I died in the first one.¡± He said grimly. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about Eden, but she emerged fifteen years in, and I was just making sure you didn¡¯t reincarnate from after that, because that would have been big news.¡± Kang grunted uncommittedly. He wasn¡¯t paying any attention to what she was saying. ¡°What did she do?¡± Tom asked. ¡°We, as in humans, got warned about a plan that the fucking wador were coming to attack us. A massive raiding party of a couple of hundred. They had to pass through three temperate forests separated by massive grassy plains. It was about equivalent to crossing America. We responded in force. Approximately ten thousand humans met them in a valley as they exited the area and repelled them. Eden went after them as they fled, and that was where she got her moniker Eden of the green. She was some sort of assassin nature class, and she pursued them as they retreated. According to the legends, she got all of them. Over a hundred kills. Hence her name: within nature, within the green she is unstoppable. Kang was studying the cupboards intently. ¡°And, Tom, are you sure Corrine is not playing a prank? You can see what I¡¯m looking for? Because I can only see paint. I can¡¯t perceive even a ripple that might indicate an illusionary form.¡± ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re real. Fourteen cupboards, and they contain an interesting supply of body tempering stuff.¡± Corrine¡¯s attention was back focused on him. ¡°You really aren¡¯t lying, are you.¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°And the lair door? How about that?¡± ¡°I could see it from day one. But it¡¯s locked most of the time.¡± ¡°Fuck, that¡¯s ridiculous. Can- can you see through all illusions?¡± He studied her. There was no reason for her to lie here, and Kang¡¯s confusion had been clear enough. Somehow, he had pierced both illusions, which was clearly something he wasn¡¯t supposed to be able to do. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know they were covered by an illusion.¡± ¡°And you saw the metal door on day one? No one showed you? Did you see someone exit? Was there a title awarded at any point or anything like that?¡± ¡°No ding, no person leaving, nothing. It was just a random metal door. To be honest, I was only curious about it because little Ta couldn¡¯t remember it being there. Why are you looking at me like that?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s hidden under both powerful illusions and spells to turn the gaze away. I knew the lair existed from my reincarnation debriefing. Then I was able to track down where in the gymnasium it was, and that only by observing the older children. Even then, knowing it was there and feeling out the area, I couldn¡¯t locate it. It was infuriating ¨C knowing about it, being aware of its presence, and yet being unable to locate it, even more so when Dim put me on the white list once I was qualified, so I discovered how it was made of metal. To this day it beggars belief that I couldn¡¯t feel the change in texture or the seam. I guess that¡¯s the nature of powerful illusions. But it needs to be so, to stop the unprepared from reaching the lairs.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Lairs?¡± Kang asked abruptly. ¡°What¡¯s the point of doing something that dangerous if we can¡¯t earn experience?¡± ¡°What type of fucking question is that?¡± Corrine snapped. ¡°Even if I can answer explicitly, it¡¯s not the sort of thing I should fucking respond to.¡± Kang nodded thoughtfully, but not perturbed. ¡°Yeah, it was a dumb question. I shouldn¡¯t have asked it. Instead, can you tell me how strong the monsters are?¡± ¡°Relatively powerful, but with large exploitable weaknesses. Despite them being targetable earlier, Dim won¡¯t put you on the white list until you demonstrate at least general two combat proficiency.¡± Kang shifted his attention away from the rafters to look at her. ¡°What does that mean - general two combat proficiency? That term wasn¡¯t in use when I died.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a term borrowed from the Divine Champion¡¯s Trial.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Kang asked immediately. ¡°It sounds fun.¡± She went red. ¡°I¡¯m saying stuff out of order. I¡¯ll get to that in a minute. To answer the pertinent question, General Two Combat means that if you fight against random tier two monsters ten thousand times, you¡¯ll only die once.¡± ¡°Any monster restrictions?¡± Tom asked carefully. ¡°Yes¡­ um¡­ no, but sort of yes. You fight on land, so it¡¯s restricted to terrestrial varieties only. Beyond that, anything goes. And don¡¯t get excited, it¡¯s not anywhere near as easy as you think¡±. ¡°Fighting rank two monsters as a rank one doesn¡¯t sound that hard.¡± Kang disagreed. He had returned to staring blankly right at the cupboard, but somehow still not perceiving it. The boy¡¯s failure to make progress despite studying it for minutes with the help of an artefact leant credibility to the power of the passive defence. It might have felt undefended, but the illusions protecting them were apparently super strong. There was a very good reason that children weren¡¯t getting their hands on the chemicals stored in the cupboards. ¡°However,¡± the other boy continued. ¡°I can see that gaining levels above General Four Combat will be challenging. Monsters above rank four can have some tricky abilities.¡± ¡°Level two is hard enough,¡± Corrine insisted, almost glaring at Kang. ¡°It took longer to reach it than I hoped, and, for your information, the stuff our size is easy enough to overwhelm. Be it a single wasp or a monster the size of an elephant, they¡¯re both incredibly difficult until you grow your abilities to a higher level.¡± ¡°How can something that big be classed as a rank two?¡± Tom blurted out before he could stop himself. She shot him a smile. ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t have believed it either until I experienced it. It is fucking big, but the problem is that it¡¯s also comically slow. It had no chance of killing me, but I couldn¡¯t hurt it back, either, and drawing three times is considered a loss.¡± ¡°Out of interest, what type of monsters are down in the lair? I fought a bat.¡± Corrine nodded. ¡°The bats are one of the easiest to beat, at least if you plan ahead and take an antidote. The rest are between rank three and six. They all have a favourable match-up to let you exploit them and a quirk to make them interesting. Some are intangible, others as hard as metal, a couple have impressive camouflage, another frustrating speed, or debilitating mind attacks, or acid, pretty much every type of attack. To be honest, they represent the full gambit of monsters you¡¯ll fight out in Existentia proper. Just curated in order to reduce their ability to overwhelm you and kill you quickly.¡± ¡°And is it worthwhile?¡± Kang asked. Tom glanced at the other boy. His questions were dangerous, especially if some of his own guesses around titles and being underage were right. ¡°You can train skills,¡± he answered for Corrine, so she wouldn¡¯t say anything they would all regret. ¡°Skills and spells develop faster when you are at real risk. If there¡¯s a variety of different monsters to fight, that means you can choose which specific opponent will stress the ability you want to develop the best. The weekly trial will give us technical combat experience, but as far as the system is concerned, it¡¯s no better than training by yourself in the isolation room. When you fight actual monsters while underage, you won¡¯t earn experience, but you¡¯ll get a significant bonus to the training speed of your abilities.¡± ¡°I guess. Seems a lot of danger for not much benefit.¡± Corrine pointedly said nothing. Then she studied Tom once more. ¡°Am I right when I say you don¡¯t know how you¡¯ve reflected the fear attack?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t even realise I had done that until now.¡± Her forehead wrinkled. ¡°Um¡­ you¡¯re joking, right?¡± Her confusion deepened as she read his facial expression. ¡°You¡¯re actually serious. You honestly didn¡¯t know. Did you check your traits?¡± ¡°For goodness sake, Corrine, I¡¯m not stupid. It¡¯s not a trait. I can read, and I¡¯ve checked.¡± He waved at the status ritual. ¡°Only a single one of my traits came through, and it was because of a title.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m certain! Plus, none of the traits I got in the contribution store or in Existentia can reflect a mind spell.¡± ¡°The illusions?¡± ¡°Another mystery.¡± She massaged the brow of her nose and absently kicked the floor. ¡°You¡¯ve really got no fucking clue?¡± He stared at her. ¡°I¡¯ve been honest with you. I have holes in my memory. But I¡¯ve read,¡± he pointed at the bookshelf. ¡°Enough to know there are only two explanations...¡± ¡°A high-levelled skill or a soul title.¡± She finished for him. ¡°Exactly. I have one of those. I just have no clue about when or how I acquired it. There are other issues about my affinities that I need to address. Something happened to me, and I have to find out what. I¡¯m hoping to be able to track down some old friends.¡± Corrine snorted. ¡°Well, you¡¯re up shit creek. Your team¡¯s probably well and truly fucking dead by now.¡± Kang pulled off the artefact and massaged his brow. ¡°Ouch, this thing makes your head hurt. Why are you saying none of our friends would have survived?¡± ¡°Because that¡¯s usually the case. Those who pushed hard in the first couple of years mostly died.¡± ¡°At least one of my group is still alive.¡± Tom told them. ¡°Wait, you were friends with someone who became a hero?¡± Corrine asked, catching the subtext of the statement. ¡°Something like that.¡± He said neutrally. ¡°Who?¡± Kang demanded almost at the same time. Tom grinned at him. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s not Cam.¡± The other man burst out laughing. ¡°Yeah, younger me was a bit of an idiot. But seriously, is the hero still active?¡± Tom nodded slowly. ¡°And will he help you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± he admitted. ¡°If he thought it was a good investment for humanity, then yes. Would he invest in me otherwise? I honestly can¡¯t predict what he thinks of me now. We¡¯ve had a weird relationship.¡± ¡°He fucking doesn¡¯t need to, and shouldn¡¯t.¡± Corrine interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s better for all if you fuck¡¯s forge your own path rather than searching for handouts. It¡¯s not like you¡¯ll even need help if you¡¯re competent. This place is a fucking gold mine of opportunities.¡± ¡°The cupboards, the lair, yearly tournaments and this divine champions thing?¡± Tom summarised. Only guessing at the last. ¡°And the not-parents.¡± Corrine told him, accidentally confirming that the divine trial was a resource that he could potentially exploit. That was something he was definitely going to follow up on. ¡°Ta and I don¡¯t have a not-parent,¡± Kang said immediately. ¡°No, to the best of my knowledge no reincarnators do. We¡¯re all proper little orphans.¡± ¡°Then what do you mean?¡± the other boy asked. ¡°How are not-parents helpful?¡± ¡°Because they¡¯re fucking easy marks. So twisted at the guilt of helping their own bastards when they¡¯re not supposed to that you can worm your way in and they¡¯ll give you stuff.¡± Tom frowned, surprised by the answer. His memories implied that the not-parents were dedicated to their own kids, not others. ¡°And that¡¯s a good resource?¡± he asked, his considerable doubt clear in his tone. Corrine nodded vigorously. ¡°Fuck yeah. They¡¯re conflicted. They¡¯ve got their loved ones back on Earth and their new kids. But they¡¯re still parents and they don¡¯t want their fucking precious spawn to become disposable foot soldiers. Especially the not-parents with less gifted children. They¡¯re the ones you latch on to. You can manipulate the fuck out of them. Rich people desperate to make amends for their own children¡¯s failures.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Tom said quietly. He was getting the feeling that Corrine had a chip on her shoulder. Someone who had grown up in a poor neighbourhood and still had all the baggage that went with it? ¡°I don¡¯t understand the Divine Champion Trials yet.¡± She frowned at that question. ¡°To be honest, I shouldn¡¯t have mentioned them.¡± ¡°But you did.¡± Kang pointed out. ¡°So spill.¡± ¡°Unlike everything else, they¡¯re not a human exclusive resource.¡± ¡°Competition locked or global?¡± Tom asked immediately thinking of the race trial. ¡°Existentia-wide. The best champions of each god are let in. You need to earn your place. Once in, you fight the representatives of the other GODs under a full GOD shield, a partial one, or no shield whatsoever.¡± For a moment, he imagined such a duel. A lot of the other sapient species started with physical characteristics which were so much better than humans. ¡°That¡¯s bullshit. I¡¯ve fought other species, I¡¯ve battled a dragon and a giant. How the hell can humans compete against one of them? Even one of their young...¡± He envisaged an infant dragon: the size of a bus and the agility and speed of a cat. There was no way a human who didn¡¯t have dozens of levels would stand a chance against any of those species. Tom froze. The other two were looking at him strangely. Corrine had even taken an instinctive step backwards. ¡°What?¡± he asked, feeling very self-conscious. He wished he had his spear to hold. Corrine, with wide eyes cleared her throat tentatively. Both hands were raised in a defensive calm down. There¡¯s no need to fight gesture. ¡°Are you fucking serious! No, it¡¯s impossible. You didn¡¯t fight a fucking dragon. It can¡¯t be. Oh fuck. Jesus. Fuck¡­ I.¡± Kang was looking at him with what wide feverish eyes. ¡°What she¡¯s trying to say is¡­ have you really fought a dragon?¡± Chapter 36 – Heroes of Humanity. Alarm bells went off in Tom¡¯s head the moment he realised what he had said. Everyone knew about the existence of dragons, but how many people had fought one, especially in the first year of the trial? Dragons were physically a long way away from all the humans. Yes, there had been a dragon in their trial, but only for his one. They had only bothered with the primary trial. For the other two, they hadn¡¯t sent a representative. Had there been any other encounters during that period? Tom didn¡¯t know, but based on their reactions, he couldn¡¯t help but think not. Both their responses were so far from the normal scale that Tom¡¯s fight-or-flight instincts took over and pumped adrenaline into his system. His body grew jittery, his heartbeat increased, and his breathing rate quickened. He wasn¡¯t sensing a threat, but it felt like he had committed some cultural faux pas. Corrine calmed herself with a visible effort. ¡°Tom, don¡¯t answer him. He shouldn¡¯t have asked, and I shouldn¡¯t have reacted like that. We¡¯re not supposed to talk about our past. But fuck me, I can¡¯t believe you fought the Dragon.¡± Kang shook himself. ¡°Ta, you said you died in the first year¡­ didn¡¯t you?¡± Social Silence chose to activate and his throat closed up, stopping him from responding. Thump, thump. His heart boomed in his own ears. The other boy, who had been watching him like a hawk exhaled sharply. ¡°It is. Jesus, he was one of them¡­ and he said he knew a hero as well.¡± Kang snapped his fingers. ¡°The priest¡­ ken-something. He¡¯s the person you know, isn¡¯t it? You were part of them?¡± Tom realised he had stepped backward to create space. It was the way they were looking at him that made his skin crawl. He raised his open hands defensively. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know who them are.¡± ¡°The heroes of humanity.¡± Kang exclaimed. ¡°The ones who were in the champion trial, the trial with the dragon. You were there, weren¡¯t you?¡± He stared at the two of them, confused. This wasn¡¯t making any sense. He might have expected this sort of reaction from the racial trait, but it didn¡¯t feel like this was about that. It felt more primal, something they had experienced directly, a response based on a transformative event from Kang¡¯s and Corrine¡¯s previous lives. Lives that had ended before the racial trait was gained. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Guys, what¡¯s happening? Why would it matter if I fought the dragon?¡± ¡°Because the fight was significant.¡± Corrine told him. ¡°Everyone knows basics, but not details. The heroes were tight-lipped about themselves and those who died. They were free, however, on their description of events and their interactions with the other species.¡± ¡°And the backstabbing that went down in the trial.¡± Kang said quietly still staring at Tom with a disturbing intensity. ¡°Yes, both between the species and us and the GODs. They told everyone how the GODs turned a massive win into an apparent loss.¡± ¡°Apparent loss, but not,¡± Kang agreed. ¡°Not that they realised it at the time.¡± Corrine shot him an annoyed glance. She looked like she wanted to be the one telling the story. ¡°The priests, not ours, but those of other races, spoke of the outcome in different terms to what our first impression was. The events of that trial were felt throughout Existentia, and it was couched as a massive win for DEUS.¡± Tom stared at her incredulously. ¡°Why would a fight between a few competitors be noticed more widely?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know. The priests didn¡¯t fucking know. I¡¯m not an oracle, I¡¯m a battler. The survivors had no idea, and, if they did, they refused to share it. But fuck that. You were there? You were one of them? What do you know? Do you remember anything important? What were Clare, Keikain and Selena really like?¡± Tom hesitated. Her veneration was weird. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why are they significant to you? Surely it was just some dry reports through the auction house. You¡¯re speaking like this mattered in your first life.¡± Corrine began laughing hysterically. Kang stared at him with wide eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t know.¡± He said. ¡°Of course, you died before it happened. SUPREME made a competition-wide announcement. Thirty-two days after you finished the trial, he basically declared that, despite the stacked odds, the humans had emerged as the champions and winners. That it was an Existentia level significant victory. The notice itself was both a surprise and not. The few groups of humanity in contact with other species by that stage were already talking about the upheaval. Wars were starting up because of the fight. We already knew it was important because the rumour mill had been in overdrive. But SUPREME¡¯s statement, that confirmation changed everything.¡± Corrine calmed herself down. ¡°My¡­ our,¡± she gestured at Kang. ¡°Reactions are like this because your fight mattered. Your team spat in the other species¡¯ eyes.¡± Her tone was fierce. ¡°I can¡¯t even put into words how important that was. We were losing on the ladder. The environment was tearing us a new one. It was hell, and my group, at least, comforted ourselves with the knowledge that the one time we had gone head-to-head against the others in the competition, we had fucking won. When all other hope was lost, we clung to that fact.¡± She shuddered. ¡°When the swarms of oddogs flooded us and we were all delirious from having to eat them raw for a month, that hope kept us going.¡± ¡°Especially when the newsletter from the heroes got circulated more widely.¡± Kang said reverently. ¡°A dragon the size of a hill. A breath attack more potent than a meteorite, one capable of creating a crater fifty metres wide and almost as deep. It was amazing to imagine humans fighting such a creature.¡± ¡°Fighting it and beating it,¡± Corrine added. ¡°Despite everything, despite our failures on the ladder, despite losing over a third of our starting number, we¡¯ve beaten a monster that strong. The heroes of humanity gave us all hope when we needed it.¡± ¡°Everywhere,¡± Kang agreed. ¡°There were people in my tribe fanatical about the heroes of humanity. They were in contact with thousands of others across the population.¡± ¡°I¡­ we.¡± She gestured at Kang, ¡°Didn¡¯t experience it firsthand. But I jumped up and down in joy when I discovered the expanded racial trait, then found out the heroes of humanity had done it. It was...¡± Tom was stunned when she wiped away a tear. ¡°Unless you lived as we did for that first two years with everything going wrong and that one legend sustaining us you can¡¯t understand how everyone thinks of the heroes.¡± She sniffed and brushed away another tear. ¡°If you tell Dim, I imagine he¡¯ll get you anything you want. If you tell anyone, really. It¡¯ll get the same outcome.¡± ¡°I wish I did more to help them in the battle.¡± Tom admitted. He had been part of the fight, he knew that much. Even if his memory had gaps, there were enough fragments to piece together large parts of the battle. He had distracted the giant and killed one of the insects, and, in doing so, avenged Toni. Not that he remembered how he had gotten the upper hand in that fight, but he had done it. Against the two main threats, though - the ones everyone was being lauded for, the giant and the dragon - he had not landed a single blow. He had been there, but not as a material contributor, so his conclusion ran. Only his pre-fight work - using his trait of DEUS¡¯s Chosen to help the planning - had been significant, and even then, he hadn¡¯t been trusted with the information. He remembered Clare asking him, ¡®is strategy alpha better than strategy beta?¡¯. He had asked and relayed the answer without ever knowing what either of the plans actually entailed. His purchased trait had been useful, not him personally. Kang shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Just being one of them is enough. They said everyone did their job, and lots died willingly to help the rest live.¡± Tom winced at that. He had died because he had made a mistake, not as a sacrifice to let others live. It was not like he had sacrificed himself for them. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Tom, I don¡¯t think you understand how much hope you guys gave us all. We might have fucking given up without it. Fuck me! You were part of the champions¡¯ group. I¡¯m pinching myself. Fucking hell, you are competition royalty and you¡¯re right here.¡± ¡°A minor part,¡± Tom reminded them. ¡°Minor, and¡­¡± he thought about the assassins that were hunting the reincarnated ones. ¡°And maybe don¡¯t tell anyone about this. We don¡¯t want unwanted attention.¡± ¡°As if we would. We¡¯re not fucking idiots. This was always going to stay in this room. Kang, shouldn¡¯t you be¡­¡± She waved at the ceiling. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have that much time left.¡± Looking slightly embarrassed, he returned to studying the room. Tom watched Kang, while, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Corrine was studying him. It looked almost like she wanted to reach out and poke him to see if he was real. ¡°I see it,¡± Kang suddenly yelled. He spun around to study the room. ¡°Wow! There¡¯s a lot of cupboards up there.¡± He took the artefact off, holding it in his hand. ¡°I can still see them. I got a title, didn¡¯t I.¡± Smiling broadly, he stepped over to the status ritual, which was as good as next to him. Corrine reacted instantly. Her arm snapped out and pointed an open palm at Kang like a policeman telling traffic to stop. ¡°No,¡± she yelled. Kang¡¯s hands were already dropping toward the ritual to activate it and Tom realised the problem, but it was already too late for him to do anything. He knew how fast that ritual responded when you knew what you were doing. ¡°Wait!¡± he tried to call out. Wind howled through the tiny room like they were briefly transferred to a mountaintop in a storm. Tom staggered, but the main part of the spell struck Kang. It picked him up and tossed him across the room like he was a leaf. His body smashed into the wall and collapsed into a broken puddle. ¡°Fuck.¡± Corrine cursed as she rushed over. The artefact, the special glasses, had been caught up in the spell, and looked like they had shattered against the wall. Corrine only had eyes for Kang. ¡°Fuck, fucking idiot.¡± She reached him and then dragged him over to the nearby healing crystal. ¡°Please¡­fuck.¡± She forced his hand onto the crystal and its magic activated. A torrent of healing was pushing through Kang. To his credit, he only groaned and didn¡¯t scream as his bones were clicking back together. Corrine¡¯s face went relieved and then flushed red. ¡°You¡¯re a fucking idiot,¡± she poked her patient in the chest. ¡°A fucking dumb cunt. What the fuck were you thinking? You know you got a title for seeing through the illusion when you got a ding. There¡¯s no need to use the fucking ritual to confirm. Did you even consider the risk that would put the rest of us under? You use that now, and then, if anything is sniffing around, they¡¯ll be able to see someone used it. What the fuck! You¡¯re an adult. You don¡¯t have an excuse for this stupidity.¡± With a groan, Kang scrambled from her arms and stood on his own feet. The healing current was still flowing, and there was another audible crack as presumably a more badly damaged rib was forcefully realigned and healed. ¡°Sorry,¡± he apologised. ¡°It was a dumb instinct. I¡¯m glad you were able to react in time.¡± ¡°Fuck. I almost had to kill you to stop you.¡± Kang laughed hollowly. ¡°Not even close. It was just some slightly tenderised ribs, maybe some softened organs. Nothing critical was hurt.¡± ¡°We heard the fucking cracking.¡± The other boy shrugged and then winced at the movement. He wasn¡¯t fully healed yet. ¡°It¡¯s not too bad, wasn¡¯t too bad. I¡¯ve kept fighting with worse.¡± Corrine wiped her brow and then saw the broken artefact. Her shoulders sagged slightly: ¡°Dim¡¯s going to be mad, but it¡¯s a good thing you can already see them,¡± she said, glancing at Tom. Then she snorted. ¡°Fucking hell, now that I know you were one of the Heroes of Humanity, none of the other weird stuff seems quite so outlandish. You fought the fucking dragon, having an ability to pierce illusions and reflect a terror spell isn¡¯t so unbelievable now.¡± For a moment, her words resonated with him. Was that a reason for the unknowns? Were the holes in his memory there to protect the larger group? How did the anger factor in, though? How about the precognition affinity? There were so many questions spinning in his head. But if being a part of the so-called Heroes of Humanity was so significant, maybe there was an explanation there. ¡°Since you¡¯re a hero, I¡¯ll tell you more about the Divine Champions Trial.¡± Corrine said finally. ¡°Dim won¡¯t be happy, but stuff him. The entry is open only to the most worthy. Fuck, the very knowledge of it is only limited to the best. I¡¯ve only had access to it for a few months. As far as I can tell, I¡¯m the only human currently in it, and the last one before that was a few years ago.¡± As she spoke, the thread of flames reappeared, coiling around her like a snake. There was no heat, but Tom knew she could change that with a single thought. ¡°Which makes sense. If you factor in my flame control with my other abilities, I¡¯m the strongest one in the orphanage.¡± She didn¡¯t talk about them, but she also didn¡¯t have to. Tom remembered that wind blast, both how it had thrown Kang and how quickly she had released it. ¡°And I don¡¯t mean the strongest twelve-year-old. I¡¯m the most powerful person here, full stop. Despite that, I¡¯ve only just qualified and I doubt I¡¯ll be able to keep my spot. I had to show general nine combat to enter, and to stay in, I¡¯ll need to reach eleven in something like two hundred days. Which I am sceptical about having a chance of achieving.¡± Kang whistled in appreciation. ¡°What are your attributes?¡± ¡°Rank two,¡± she said flatly. ¡°I only have biological growth gains. I haven¡¯t and won¡¯t take any elixirs until I¡¯ve spent my first chunk of experience.¡± ¡°Same, but...¡± Tom hesitated, not sure how to phrase it. ¡°How are you fighting things four times faster than you? I mean, if you¡¯re general nine combat you have to have proved your ability to beat something that fast.¡± She shook her head: ¡°Just four times faster? I wish! I said I needed a general nine combat rating. The average is four times, yes, but the speedsters are ten times quicker than me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my point. How do you fight something that moves so fast you can barely see it?¡± ¡°I have a trait and a skill that boosts my brain and, another to increase my mana reserves. Even together, it¡¯s barely enough. I¡¯ve only just snuck in, but the rewards are fucking amazing. I fight under a partial GOD¡¯s shield, and, despite not taking the highest danger and highest reward option I¡¯ve already earned sufficiently for a tier five skill or artefact. If I can keep my place beyond the next cut-off point¡­¡± She shook her head sadly. ¡°Even if I don¡¯t, it was so worth the effort.¡± ¡°How do you get in, then?¡± Tom asked again. ¡°You have to be strong enough. General four combat by the time you turn six is the first entry point. Nine before twelve, eleven by thirteen. For humans, gaining strength early is hard. The earliest that I know of someone getting in was at age ten.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it earlier,¡± Kang promised immediately. Corrine stared at him in response. In a way, that said ¡®You¡¯re an idiot¡¯, or, if she was the one saying it, something with the same meaning, but slightly more colourful language. Tom ignored the interplay. ¡°And how would I go about proving I¡¯m good enough?¡± ¡°Asking the trial can force an evaluation. Otherwise, on your birthdays. Your Existentia birthdays,¡± she clarified immediately. ¡°Not earth ones. For that confirmation, there¡¯s no testing. The system just knows.¡± He nodded. His mind focused on that challenge. General Four Combat by the time he turned six¡­ this was going to be his aim. Danger Sense, Spark, Touch Heal, Spear Mastery, something to improve his mana reserves and probably reaction speed as well - that would be enough to get him there. The last two were optional for the six-year-old threshold, but in the later years he would need it. ¡°Corrine,¡± he looked her in the eye. ¡°You said you¡¯ve boosted your mana and reaction speed. How?¡± She touched her neck and winced. ¡°Um¡­ well, for me, the mana improvement came about because I got a soul-bound necklace. Besides containing an active shielding spell, it had a thousand mana reserve. It was, as I¡¯ve said, soul-bound, so the loss of it manifested as a trait.¡± She frowned. ¡°I only found it when I turned ten and had access to my system room. But if you didn¡¯t have a soul-bound mana store in your last life, that method won¡¯t help you.¡± Tom kept his face neutral as he remembered his own soul mana crystal. He wondered if it had been similarly transformed, and what he could do to find out if he had got a trait earlier than age ten. ¡°And the reaction speed?¡± She hesitated. ¡°Again, this might not suit you. I¡¯m a fucking good crafter, and I¡¯m not saying that to brag,¡± she continued hurriedly. ¡°In the trial, I¡¯ve earned a shit load of credits from my crafting, sufficient for the trial to buy me a tier one skill before I turned ten. You guys probably won¡¯t get near that, but the skill was called Speed Equalise. It allows me to speed up my brain and perception to seventy-five percent of that of an opponent¡¯s. It does nothing for my physical attributes, but I win most of my fights with my flames. If I can follow their movements, I can burn them to hell. Dim also got me a trait stone that boosts me up to a further twenty percent against faster opponents. That one is better in some ways, as it includes physical attributes. I think it cost four million credits. It¡¯s not something he¡¯ll be willing to do again. But to push me into the divine trial, he figured it was a sound investment.¡± She paused and licked her lips. ¡°Mind you, if you tell him you¡¯re a hero of humanity I¡¯m sure the equation will change.¡± He nodded and didn¡¯t blink at the price. It was exorbitant, but for what it did it was worth that and more. The only question was whether it had been too valuable a gift for a child, no matter how promising she might have seemed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry guys,¡± Corrine was genuinely apologetic. ¡°I doubt you¡¯ll be able to make it. I got really lucky and only just snuck in.¡± Tom ignored her. He had his aim. He had his build, and no matter how impossible it might seem to Corrine, he was confident he could meet the qualification thresholds by the time he turned six. ¡°I¡¯m going to beat Thunder Fists,¡± Kang declared quietly. ¡°I¡¯m going to make a difference in the competition. If doing that means I need to gatecrash the divine trial, then that¡¯s my goal.¡± Corrine, Tom realised, was staring at him and had ignoring the other boy. ¡°And you, Tom?¡± He glanced at Kang and grinned. ¡°I¡¯m not about to let this lug beat me. If he thinks he can qualify, I¡¯m confident I¡¯ll do better.¡± ¡°Are you fucking serious?¡± she glowered at him. ¡°You have no idea how difficult that¡¯s going to be.¡± ¡°What do you mean? It¡¯ll be easy.¡± Tom smiled at her. ¡°The challenge for Kang and me isn¡¯t going to be about getting in. It¡¯s going to be getting Bir qualified.¡± Kang laughed, and Corrine went apocalyptic. Her face went red and for a moment, she couldn¡¯t form coherent words. A moment that, unfortunately, didn¡¯t last. ¡°You arrogant dumb¡­¡± Smiling at how convenient it was, he retreated to his system room and watched her facial expression with the sound off. Tom wasn¡¯t underestimating the difficulty he faced, but with hard work he was sure he would make it. If Bir was as talented as he suspected, then she would, too. At least, after she received expert tutoring from him and Kang. Chapter 37.1 – Extra Study. Between one moment and the next, Corrine changed. She went from swearing in an apparent incoherent rage to a massive grin. ¡°That was fun.¡± She laughed and patted both of them on the shoulder. ¡°It was fucking fun, letting loose, and, to be honest, if you weren¡¯t aiming to do the impossible, I would have been disappointed.¡± Tom stared at her in disbelief. ¡°Are you serious? Was that put on?¡± ¡°It was a bit of fun. As I said, it felt fucking awesome to let loose. Definitely recommend it for stress relief.¡± Kang next to him doubled over laughing: ¡°What? You thought she was serious? That¡¯s so funny¡± ¡°Her words were pretty pointed.¡± Tom actually wasn¡¯t sure what precisely they had been, as he had retreated into his system room in a futile attempt to avoid being spat on. Well, it was at least only a partially successful retreat, as he had been spat on, but had not felt the specks land on his exposed face. Based on her facial expression, he figured it had been a safe assumption. ¡°No reasonable person would say all that¡­¡± He trailed off as he realised how ridiculous he sounded. Corrine put her hands on her hips, tilted her head higher than usual to create an impression that was like a cross between a haughty lady looking down on people and a street bully: ¡°I¡¯m not fucking reasonable.¡± Kang just laughed harder, then Corrine cracked her stern visage with another smile. ¡°Rage boy, did you honestly think I¡¯ll be upset at someone striving to be their best?¡± Tom opened his mouth to respond. ¡°I haven¡¯t been exposed to him for long, but I don¡¯t think Tom¡¯s necessarily the best at social stuff.¡± Kang interrupted quietly. ¡°How can you say that? My acting has been great.¡± ¡°You outed yourself as a reincarnator on the first day.¡± Corrine guffawed: ¡°He did what?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Tom went to argue and then stopped himself. ¡°It was just a long sentence. I was in shock and it slipped out. Plus, we were in a safe spot at the time.¡± ¡°The hide fort¡¯s not secure.¡± ¡°You and Bir were the only ones to overhear.¡± ¡°Yeah, and I picked you and I¡¯ve been trying to figure out since whether it was worthwhile to make contact. You failing in the first interaction did not inspire confidence.¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Corrine tapped her empty wrist to indicate the time. It was a gesture that would only work with someone who had grown up on earth. ¡°First day, that¡¯s so funny. I would love to hear more, but we¡¯ve got two minutes. Is there anything else you want to know?¡± Kang appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then shook his head: ¡°Nothing pressing.¡± ¡°How often are we going to meet?¡± Tom asked. ¡°Not often. It¡¯s too dangerous otherwise. I¡¯ll keep doing these meetings.¡± ¡°Quarterly, then,¡± he summarised. She shook her head: ¡°Every third or fourth. I¡¯m not about to create fucking patterns someone might recognise. Dimitri, however, sits down with all students privately once every six months. He¡¯ll be your main point of contact.¡± ¡°What she¡¯s saying is that, despite the GODs guaranteeing your behaviour, she¡¯s unwilling to take that risk.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not saying that at all.¡± ¡°Not with your spectacular ability to out yourself. She feels unsafe having too much to do with you.¡± ¡°Children, focus.¡± She ordered, laughing. ¡°I¡¯m not saying Kang¡¯s right, but can you see his point?¡± ¡°Fine, be like that.¡± they both laughed harder. ¡°Moving on, what happens if I get general two combat?¡± ¡°Then, Tom, you engineer private time with Dim. He is the person you have to talk to. Going direct to him is not recommended. If any one of us is watched constantly, it¡¯s him. It¡¯s better to wait until your sit-down session.¡± She checked her watch again. ¡°Sorry about this. It¡¯s a matter of operational security.¡± She attacked him. He attempted to block, but his hand-to-hand fighting ability was terrible. She went through his defences effortlessly. He felt his collarbone break, and then a snap kick dislocated his hip. The force she struck with was ridiculous for someone he knew was restricted to the strength of a preteen girl. Skills, potentially even passive ones, turned blows, which should have been restricted to damaging soft tissue, into ones capable of shattering bones. He crashed into the ground, then twisted in an attempt to get his functioning leg between him and the danger. Corrine nodded approvingly and stepped back. ¡°You¡¯re tough: kept fighting, not a single whimper. Great job.¡± She glanced at Kang. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to get those ribs checked out. So, I don¡¯t need to hurt you further. Formally, you¡¯ve both failed and I¡¯m not recording any abilities against. You can work out how to treat future assessments, whether to produce an ability every time or slide under the radar. It¡¯s not something I can help with.¡± The door dinged open. ¡°A healer will be here in a minute.¡± She said in a curt, disinterested tone as her mask went back on. She left, unconcerned. Tom tried to fix his hip, smacking it with an elbow to try and drive it into place. If he had his magic, it would have been different. Even with his eight mana he could have fixed this himself with his old Touch Heal spell. Use it to loosen his tendons, relax and tense the right muscles, and, with a bit of outside pressure, it would click back into the socket. Without that level of control, he needed to rely on brute force, and his strength wasn¡¯t going to be enough. Kang grabbed him. ¡°Stop,¡± the other boy hissed and threw a furious glance at the open door, and then Kang deliberately dug his fingers into the tender joint. ¡°Healer soon.¡± The unexpected pain caused an involuntary whimper even as his brain caught up with what was happening. With a mental sigh, Tom retreated into the system room and his avatar immediately started screaming in pain. He acknowledged that reaction was probably what he should have done the moment Corrine turned to leave to leave, and his failure to pretend was why Kang had gotten so pissed at him. Less than a minute later, a young man entered. The pain immediately vanished, and then, with true brute strength, the healer carefully popped the hip in place. Tom had discovered the ability to play sound and to slow down sections while doing so to make them perceptible. The healer cursed at how brutal the trainers were, but not, Tom noted, at Corrine specifically. Chapter 37.2 – Extra Study. They had lunch and then were placed in their isolation rooms. Tom injected himself to continue his magic, and practiced it whenever his mana fully recharged. During the rest of the time, went through his spear forms. Straight afterwards, the trio met together. Kang stood at the entrance to his room: ¡°I built a fort.¡± The boy held his spot, apparently proud of his achievement. He gestured for them to come in. ¡°I don¡¯t want,¡± Bir instantly objected. ¡°No more isolation room. I want to run.¡± Kang caught Tom¡¯s eyes and made a smallest head gesture. ¡°Together. It¡¯s fun,¡± ¡°I want to see,¡± Tom declared and hurriedly entered the room. Bir pouted. She was used to being the leader amongst the three of them, and didn¡¯t like the two conspiring to deny that. Unhappily, she followed them in and Kang let the door ding shut. ¡°Why play here? It¡¯s boring. We¡¯re here every day.¡± ¡°Because this morning,¡± Kang reminded her. Bir shuddered. ¡°She was meany. Super meany.¡± ¡°We need a new trick. Look.¡± Kang pulled her over to a familiar-looking folder filled with paper. It was open and Tom could see the wire frames of a spell form, but it was not one he could recognise. The lines were all wavy, and seemed to go from thin to thick in ways he wasn¡¯t used to. Kang tapped the paper. ¡°Magic.¡± He raised his hand and the same wire frame as on the page formed upon his palm. It was fuzzier than the clean, crisp drawn lines - a very poor imitation that was not even close to being accurate enough to create the spell. But something was wrong. Tom studied it closer, and then realised: the image was an illusion. It was constructed of light, not magic like he had assumed. ¡°You can cast illusions,¡± he blurted out in surprise. Kang shook his head minutely once more. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a trick.¡± At the same time, he tilted his other hand. It held a palm-sized coin that had been turned into a necklace by the addition of a thin, fine-linked silver chain. Tom recognised that he was looking at an artefact, and one he recognised from the hidden cupboards above them. He had dismissed it as currently useless. A cute trinket, capable of sustaining a tier four illusion, but at a mana cost that was way too high for his current regeneration to sustain. If he had three times his current mana pool, it could be used to permanently hide something small, like a spatial ring, so he could see a genuine use for it later on. However, for most kids, its purpose would be pranks. Such an activity wouldn¡¯t be the worst use of someone¡¯s skills and time, so he approved of its presence. The illusion puffed out of existence. ¡°That¡¯s cool. Do it again,¡± Bir demanded. ¡°In seven minutes.¡± Kang answered. ¡°I¡¯ve used all my mana. But you need a trick,¡± he poked the page. ¡°To show at assessment. Master it and not get hurt.¡± She turned away. ¡°Don¡¯t want.¡± It was a first try. She had, as expected resisted their push. Tom wasn¡¯t worried. He had seen Kang work before, and he was confident that before long it would be Bir pushing them to train magic harder. Tom moved closer to see what wire forms the other boy was working on. Kang saw him and shuffled the paper. His finger ran down the list of names and paused significantly on three. Bir did not notice the exchange, as she was poking her head into the fort Kang had built. It had been constructed out of the three toy boxes. It was an impressive construction for someone as young as Pa was supposed to be, but not the type of effort that would draw suspicious eyes. ¡°Warrior or mage?¡± he whispered after another glance at Bir. ¡°Warrior,¡± Kang answered, and his finger tapped the deceptive movement line. ¡°Rogue?¡± A quick shake of the head. That was enough for Tom to understand the build that Kang was going for. He was a front-line fighter, one who intended to use shadows to mask his movements. He would confuse his opponents and make them strike where he wasn¡¯t, or, alternatively, allow his own axe to score strikes without being blocked, parried, or dodged. It wouldn¡¯t be like a proper illusion, which could create perfect mirror images to distract the opponent. Rather, it was a more subtle approach, a battle style that would have magic cause the enemy attacks to miss by centimetres, which in a desperate fight could rapidly escalate into a significant advantage. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Tom approved of the choice. He had fought monsters that used shadows to distort and those that created perfect illusions. The shadow ones he had always found to be the harder fight. Bir was busy. However, having seen the artefact, he couldn¡¯t pass up the opportunity to communicate. He pointed at the coin necklace, and it was passed across. As he expected, it took mana and his imagination to create illusions. Tom¡¯s years of controlling lightning made the process simple. Light was far easier to manipulate than electricity, and, to be honest, the artefact did most of the heavy lifting. Kang was looking at him. Bir was still in the fort, hidden. Tom focused and created words in the air. Teleporting, Lightning Spearman. The other boy nodded as he read it. Deceptive Shadow Axeman? Kang gave him a quick thumbs up. Bir? Like he was expecting, the other man picked up one of the other folders that he had out and pointed at the heading. Water Domain. Tom remembered what Corrine had said earlier, that there was a girl who had gained such a domain by age ten. There was one problem with that. Magic aptitude wasn¡¯t necessarily governed with hard work. But affinities? The words puffed out of existence almost immediately as his mana bottomed, but Kang had been looking straight at it, so would have read it. He winked at Tom: ¡°Bir? Did the Trial test your affinities?¡± She poked her head out of the fort and nodded her head vigorously: ¡°I told. You know I¡¯m talented. Water, Ice, Storm, Life, Arcane.¡± ¡°Was that the order you were given and what values were they?¡± Kang glared at him and, as he was outside Bir¡¯s eyeline, he pointed aggressively at his own throat. Tom winced slightly. That was his way of saying shut up and watch your damn words. His excitement at being able to communicate normally was causing him to make mistakes. She hesitated and pulled herself fully out of the fort. ¡°Storm and ice worst¡­. For the others not sure. Which one to use is a hard choice¡± ¡°Water coolest.¡± Tom told her. Despite their encouragement, she refused to look at the wire forms. Tom accepted the setback passively - if a bigger push was needed, he could use his own fate to influence the decision. He didn¡¯t think it would be necessary, though. Three days later, Kang got her to start practicing. It was tempting to push her to use fate to speed up her learning, but it wasn¡¯t necessary. Given that they had years of training ahead of them, a week or a month would make little difference. He hoped she would think to do it herself, because he didn¡¯t want to risk triggering the geas that stopped him from communicating too much about the unique uses of fate. If he had to, he would consider it, but, hopefully, it would never be required. Three weeks passed with only a single noticeable shift to their routine. The morning combat sessions had been fun. Tom was given a chance to experiment with a variety of weapons, and then, to his annoyance, everything changed to focus on crafting. It irritated him no end. The three of them were back in the isolation room. It was something they did every second or third day, despite Bir¡¯s reluctance. Having watched Kang in action, he suspected the other reincarnator to be primarily responsible for the success of these sessions. He was very good at prompting an idea and then waiting until Bir seized it. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was originally Bir or Kang¡¯s idea, but the pre-isolation room raid for cookies kept her spirits up. The girl in question was currently focused on a cup of water. Every now and again, the surface would ripple, as though an insect had taken off from the top. She was smiling at her progress. ¡°I hate crafting,¡± Tom complained. Kang glanced sharply at him with a disapproving frown on his face: ¡°I like magic part.¡± Those words of rebuke, no matter how minor, and the look of disappointment were equivalent to most people yelling. He was more than a little surprised at the show of emotion - if the other boy cared that much, then there was probably something he was missing. He forced himself to reassess the sessions with a more flexible perspective. The crafting activity was a slow-moving shift between disciplines. The first week had been basket-weaving, which he guessed prompted dexterity and nimbleness of the fingers. It was not an explicit waste of time. However, pottery did not give that benefit. You just got your hands muddy, and the spinning wheel did all the heavy lifting. That was time that could be better spent doing almost anything else. Kang subtly angled a folder towards him, and the yellow paper was suddenly filled with text. I think it¡¯s fascinating how they¡¯ve incorporated magic to help with the mundane. So creative. The words vanished as Kang ran out of mana and he offered the large coin to Tom. As was his policy, he shook his head. His mana was for the spell form practice, and, while it was nice to communicate directly, it wasn¡¯t worth the lost training time. Kang shrugged. He was used to Tom¡¯s quirks by now. However, Tom did not reject his fellow reincarnator¡¯s words. All the activities were magic-assisted. There were tools that had made the basket weaving easier, and they had all required the students to use their own magic to start the process, even if mana crystals or the trainer¡¯s own powers took over immediately after. It was possible that the whole thing was a training aid, a way to subtly teach the young kids how to access their mana. They had already done physical sessions, and those interested had the opportunity to continue in their own time. Switching now to give everyone a feeling for magic was useful. Tom was sure, for example, that Bir had got more out of the crafting session than out of the more traditional mana sensing and usage lecturers might have provided. At her current age, she learned far more from hands-on experience than from being talked to. ¡°Magic good,¡± he agreed grudgingly, but not for the reason the other boy thought. To Tom, it was intriguing to think that someone had thought to introduce such a non-combat-focused stream of learning to promote the development of better fighters. It could be a coincidence, but everything else he saw in this place had been carefully planned, and he suspected that went down to this level. Quietly, he brought his hand over to one of the latest injection sites. This one was a faster-moving poison, at least relative to the ones that took a day to expand to coin size. He had mere hours, probably as little as an hour, to contain it before it spread so far his limited magic would have no chance of stopping it. At that point, he would either get help from the healing crystal or suffer intense itching for days. Tom ignored the skin spell which, having been formalised, could quickly trap the foreign substance. Instead, he concentrated on the muscle. Slowly, bits of it began to change to create a wall. It was hard going. The manually-constructed spell forms barely worked, but he persisted until his mana vanished. Bir abruptly squealed in delight as the water in her cup briefly jiggled. ¡°Did you get a ding?¡± Kang called out. ¡°I got ding, I got a ding.¡± Tom¡¯s head snapped up. That was suspiciously fast. Chapter 38.1 - An Emerging Genius. They looked at each other in shock. Bir duplicating a spell that quickly was beyond impressive. The girl grinned happily, and the cup of water in her hand rippled. ¡°It¡¯s so easy to cast now.¡± She whispered in wonder. He smiled at her reaction, her joy at the success. Then his eyes widened. Her fate pool was empty! Not just slightly diminished. It had been completely consumed, and he was nearly certain that it had been full when they had entered the room. His brain stuttered as he assessed the implications of such an observation. She had only just started practicing magic. She was supposed to be learning how to shape mana manually. He hadn¡¯t expected her to succeed for months. But she had¡­ and coincidently expended all of her fate at the same time. Nope, the two events were definitely connected. Tom had hoped that she would find the link, but he had been expecting to have to lay a trail of breadcrumbs to get her to this point. However, she had done it herself. He swallowed as he stared at the excited little girl. She didn¡¯t know how monumental her success was. She didn¡¯t know that this made her a certified genius. Then he glanced at the other person in the room. Kang was a fellow reincarnator - did he know? Tom wondered about it. Was he using his fate properly? Was Kang exploiting this loophole, or was he just relying on good old-fashioned hard work? He considered all of his memories. Tom checked people¡¯s fate levels as a matter of instinct, and his exceptional memory allowed him to track the other boy¡¯s levels through time. His fellow reincarnator clearly used fate actively, but inconsistently, and, now that he was focusing on the issue, it was clear there were long periods where it had remained full. It was possible that he didn¡¯t understand what Bir had just discovered, hadn¡¯t worked out the most potent use of fate. He hadn¡¯t discovered yet that it could be applied to gain spells and skills faster and increase the chances of evolutions. ¡°Check ritual,¡± Kang told Bir excitedly. He pointed at the artefact, oblivious to the thoughts rushing in Tom¡¯s head. ¡°Pa,¡± Tom snapped in frustration even as he grabbed the boy¡¯s wrist and extracted the necklace from his hand. Unfortunately, Bir noticed what he was doing. ¡°What¡¯s that? It¡¯s pretty!¡± ¡°A toy,¡± Kang answered and then pointed at the screen. ¡°Ritual now. See outcome.¡± Bir refocused, and Kang threw an annoyed look in Tom¡¯s direction. Snatching the necklace like that had been risky. They didn¡¯t want her to be asking too many questions. If she did, they would be forced to build a web of lies, and once they did that, there was a chance of only one being discovered and the whole thing being torn down as a result. At the current moment, that future problem wasn¡¯t important to Tom. This was an opportunity to get around the geas that restricted him from teaching others about the advanced ways to utilise fate. It was worth taking risks - even far bigger ones than what he had taken so far. Tom felt out his mana levels and almost sighed in relief. Thank God for the power of regeneration. He had a single point available, but that would be enough. There wasn¡¯t much the geas would allow, and one sentence was probably the most he could do anyway. He angled the folder, then waited until he was sure Kang was looking right at it. Bir just used all of her fate. His lack of mana meant the words failed nearly instantly, and Tom almost sagged in relief when the geas didn¡¯t activate to punish him. Then again, it shouldn¡¯t have. After all, he wasn¡¯t telling Kang anything specific about how to use fate better. All he was doing was sharing an observation about Bir¡¯s fate levels. The simple fact was that the ability to sense fate pools was rare, and Tom had spent decades in the tutorial developing one. Theoretically, there were no restrictions that prevented him from sharing the results of such an observation. If Kang linked the facts together, Tom couldn¡¯t be blamed. That¡¯s what he had hoped for, at least, and apparently the system had accepted his logic. There was a chance that Kang already knew, and he wasn¡¯t sharing a secret because there was no mystery there to be shared. If that was the case, he expected the other boy to respond with confusion. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Tom watched expectantly. If this was a surprise and the other man worked out the hidden truth, it would be obvious. Shock ran over Kang¡¯s face as he switched between staring at the excited girl and the now-blank paper. ¡°But that means¡­¡± The other boy swallowed heavily. ¡°I¡¯ve been an idiot.¡± ¡°Pa, Pa, what, what you talking about.¡± Bir asked in her singsong voice. Kang shook himself. ¡°Nothing.¡± He gulped, looked wide eyed at Tom, then forced himself to take Bir over to the status ritual, to stand next to her and tell her what she had to do. In the last two months, Tom had not seen the other boy this perturbed before. Kang was always robust, solid, and unflustered, not unsettled to such a degree that even Bir could see that there was a problem. Not that Tom blamed him. He very much understood the reaction. He remembered the time when he had realised this himself, when the true value of fate had clicked for him. Back then he had been similarly overwhelmed by the possibilities. Bir used the status window. Words appeared immediately. There had been an outside chance she had been mistaken, but her success could no longer be disputed. ¡°I can¡¯t read it.¡± Bir protested in frustration. Spell: Disturb Water ¨C Tier 0 This spell can cause a ripple in sources of water within two meters of the caster. ¡°What it say? What does say?¡± It was not much of a spell, but then his first spell Heal Scratch had been a stinker as well. This was no different. However, it represented a massive leap forward in terms of progress, especially in the context of her using fate to advance her magic. Now that she had a taste of success it would become a habit to use it in the future. The next step in her development would be training to chase sideways evolutions, but he was not sure how to communicate that and get around the geas. Perhaps, just making her aware of the benefits of stretching the spell when merging would be sufficient. That, Tom decided, could be easily conveyed when the time was right. Theoretically, if she dedicated the same time as he had to practice, she was well-positioned to grow as fast as he had - potentially faster, if her affinity was higher than his. That seemed likely, as healing was only his fifth strongest one, and water was her most powerful affinity. Kang was silent, still lost in his own thoughts. ¡°I can¡¯t read either,¡± Tom told her. ¡°But words.¡± He proclaimed and pointed dramatically. ¡°That means spell. You have spell! Bir! You have a spell.¡± She smiled shyly. A ripple went through the water in her glass, and her grin grew broader. In this world, it was such a minor, inconsequential spell, but it was a real magic, and now she could cast it at will. ¡°So easy.¡± Tom kept his eyes on Kang, who looked stunned, sick, and disturbed. He seemed to be unable to form words. ¡°It¡¯s great,¡± Tom agreed. ¡°Soon blast monsters with it.¡± Another ripple went across the cup. The number of times she had cast it was impressive. She had to be using one-mana increments. Such control felt ridiculous to him, but he couldn¡¯t doubt his eyes. ¡°Soon,¡± Tom promised. The difference between what her current spell did and what she was imagining was immense, but with the progress she was making, her eventual success was guaranteed. Tom glanced at Kang. His eyes kept flicking between where Tom had written his words and the girl. ¡°Bir? How? Was it Fate?¡± Bir nodded excitedly. ¡°Used¡­¡± Her hand touched her throat in confusion as she was suddenly stopped from speaking. The geas had just activated, but, thankfully, it was not evil, and she was four. Somehow, it stopped her from speaking, but also prevented her from panicking. It was not a blunt instrument it had been created by the GODs. He did not know what it communicated to her, but it was clearly sophisticated enough to take into account her age and naivety. If Tom had tried a similar sentence, he would have been incapacitated by the backlash. Thankfully, she was not punished, and hopefully, Kang had seen the activation and recognised it for what it was. If so, it would be another significant piece of evidence to help him draw the right conclusions. Tom watched the other boy carefully. Micro-emotions that Bir wouldn¡¯t be able to interpret played across his face. Excitement warred with horror as his brain registered what had happened. Kang hadn¡¯t known, and now a four-year-old had shown him the technique. Given how driven everyone in the competition had been, given their willingness to sacrifice to gain a slight benefit, given the magnitude of the advantage this use of fate gave, Tom understood that horror very well. Not learning it before represented a huge opportunity cost. The other man had to be imagining what his group would have achieved if they had this method. For one, they probably wouldn¡¯t have all died. Bir was staring at the screen once more. Her finger was tracing the text as she tried to pronounce them. Kang took the opportunity to soundlessly scream curse words. Those opposing emotions had consolidated into anger at himself, in internal condemnation at his failure to discover this trick alone. Despite Kang¡¯s own annoyance, a thrill of achievement ran through Tom. It wouldn¡¯t show in his personal ranking points, but he had just done something important. That one point of mana that was used to write those six words had made a substantial difference. ¡°Pa, are you okay?¡± Bir poked him as she spoke to ensure he heard. The boy pulled his hands away from his face. He was shaken, but the months of training took over. A smile that looked almost perfectly genuine covered his face. ¡°Yes. Just Impressed. Amazed. You did magic!¡± ¡°You did too.¡± She pointed out in her usual forthright manner. ¡°Taught before orphanage.¡± Kang lied. ¡°I took much longer to get. But I¡¯m very happy for you.¡± He said that to Bir, but the way he made eye contact with Tom made it clear that the last bit was directed at him. Then he focused back on Bir, who was the unofficial leader of their four-year-old selves. He took the stance of a loyal and hopeful follower. ¡°Should we do fly room?¡± ¡°Yes, fly room.¡± Bir exclaimed. ¡°We go now.¡± She rushed out the door. Tom went to follow, but Kang grabbed his arm before he could leave. The doors shut, registered their presence and dinged loudly to indicate they had full privacy. Chapter 38.2 - An Emerging Genius. Kang exhaled sharply. ¡°Fuck, I can¡¯t believe I missed that. Thank you for sharing, Tom. Is there a reason you waited until now?¡± He chuckled bitterly at the question. ¡°You saw it with Bir, yes. It¡¯s not something I wish to talk about.¡± He answered, being very careful with the sentiments he chose to express. Kang nodded then frowned immediately. ¡°But what you wrote?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t tell you anything.¡± Tom reminded him. Kang was quick, and understanding instantly blossomed on the other boy¡¯s face. It wasn¡¯t necessary, but Tom finished the sentence anyway. ¡°I only informed you of the state of Bir¡¯s fate. You did the rest.¡± ¡°Thank you for taking the risk. Do you have any idea how much changes things?¡± He asked in a rush. ¡°Of course you do. My god. You¡¯re a hero of humanity, you probably could all do this. I can¡¯t believe I overlooked it. Twenty years in the tutorial slaving away blind. What a waste.¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t work there.¡± Tom told the very excitable man. Kang seemed surprised at that, but moved on immediately. The tutorial never promised to be identical to Existentia - just something to prepare them for integration. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, it worked in Existentia from day one, and I didn¡¯t figure it out.¡± Tom nodded to confirm that assumption. ¡°You only had, what, a third? A sixth? Of the time I had in Existentia, and you had figured it out. I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t see it.¡± Tom shrugged: ¡°I¡¯m talented at this stuff.¡± Kang stared at him suspiciously. ¡°You weren¡¯t told. You worked this out.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be wrong to say I was considered to be the fate expert. As I said, it came easy to me.¡± ¡°The expert from the heroes of humanity. No wonder you were reincarnated. But this¡­ I need to redo my plan. I can get three times as much stuff done.¡± ¡°Something like that,¡± Tom agreed neutrally. ¡°This is amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.¡± Kang glanced at the door and winced slightly. It was perfectly soundproof, so they couldn¡¯t hear anything, but they could imagine Bir outside beating her fists and yelling for it to open. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here any longer. Bir, potential observers, all that.¡± As he was saying, that he retrieved a Cam figurine from the scattered toys and smiled apologetically. ¡°It¡¯s a prepared pretence that I thought of if I ever needed to get private time with you. Today, I decided it was worth it. Thank you for helping. I wasn¡¯t sure how I was going to beat Corrine, but this¡­ this will get me closer.¡± He went to the door and struck the magic handle. It reacted to his wishes, and the doors swung open. Bir stood there, hands on hips, glowering at them. Abashed Kang showed her the Cam sculpture. ¡°Sorry.¡± Her eyes narrowed: ¡°No play figurines. Fly.¡± She insisted. ¡°Leave. It. Here.¡± Feigning reluctance, the other boy put it away, and together they left for the low-gravity room filled with trampolines and rushing air currents. They had only discovered it two days ago, and it was fun as well as useful. It was excellent training. As Tom pushed his weak body to its extremes, he considered everything that had just occurred. Bir seemed to be as adept at magic as she had been at fate. She was going to be a terror when she graduated. Kang, armed with the new technique, would grow faster and, hopefully, they would be able to push each other to greater and greater heights. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Thirty-five years wasn¡¯t long, but as beginnings went, this was a good one. The next day, Tom walked toward the trial in the orderly queue. His mind was still spinning at the revelations of the previous day. Hours of time had been wasted constructing pointless power fantasies. It hadn¡¯t got in the way of his magic training, but that didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t silly. He had repeatedly imagined the day he and his friends and other champions of humanity could challenge the dragon and defeat it not with tricks, but with sheer power. The potential opportunities he imagined were endless. While he hadn¡¯t earned an underage-specific title yet, it had only been a couple of months. He was almost certain that they existed. The careful way titles were never mentioned and the structuring of resources told him they were there - he just hadn¡¯t managed to hit the prerequisites to receive one. Once he got the first one, he was confident he would be able to extrapolate to find the other available ones. The funniest bit was that it didn¡¯t matter. Even without that bonus, Tom could appreciate the strength of the base he was constructing. Even if underage titles didn¡¯t exist, by the time he reached fifteen, he was destined to be fundamentally better than he was when he had first arrived in Existentia. The sideways evolutions by themselves were going to ensure that his spells would end up twice as strong as everyone else¡¯s - adjusted for levels and tier, of course. It hurt not to be killing stuff for experience, and he missed possessing the flexibility to buy class levels, skills, spells, or traits. But he appreciated the setup he had to leverage his strength. The investment in the community¡¯s children was truly impressive. He had access to dozens of rooms devoted to push physical movement and evasions skills as much as possible, and just as many for sparring against both dedicated trainers and combat dummies. On Earth, the upkeep for each child would have probably been a million dollars per year. The cost here might not be as punitive. The lack of heavy machinery was made up by most adults being superheroes. They could do stuff ten, twenty times faster than humans on earth, and they didn¡¯t need mechanical aids because they could all lift a ton of rock by themselves, and that without taking into account what magic could contribute. But, even factoring in attribute and magic benefits, the investment was immense. It was a true community effort. Dimitri touched his arm. A spark passed between them, and, because he wanted to know, Tom extended the energy from the core of his soul. Then, a moment later, he was within the trial. ¡°You can review the notification,¡± April told him happily. He glanced around surprised to discover that he was in the caf¨¦. ¡°What¡¯s this? You¡¯re not launching me straight into combat or having me chase those devil constructs?¡± She laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll get to that soon. Now check. I know you¡¯re curious.¡± You have positively identified Dimitri Gleb Vasilievich as a fellow reincarnated. Dimitri is strong enough to defend himself, and you are under no compulsion to protect his identity as a reincarnator. On the flip side, Dimitri has identified you as reincarnated and you are weak. As such, Dimitri will be incapable of deliberately or accidentally revealing your reincarnated status to anyone else. Tom raised an eyebrow at that message. It was different to the others he had read, but that was clearly caused by how strong Dimitri was. Powerful enough to defend himself from rank seventy native assassins meant terrifyingly powerful. The casual way Corrine had referred to him suddenly made a lot more sense. He guessed he should have figured out that a mechanism like this was at play, or else Corrine wouldn¡¯t have been able to mention him. April smiled at him. ¡°A surprise, but not a surprise.¡± She summarised. Tom wasn¡¯t sure if she could see the notification, or if she was experienced enough from chatting with other reincarnators to know what it said. She clicked her fingers: ¡°Tell me, do you feel like fighting or playing today?¡± ¡°Fighting.¡± He growled immediately. ¡°And can¡¯t you do something about the bloody butterflies? They are impossible to catch! I feel like I¡¯m wasting my time chasing them around.¡± She laughed: ¡°But the way you trip over and curse continuously¡­ Would you deny me that pleasure? A trial spirit has to get their amusement somehow.¡± Tom didn¡¯t bite. He knew she was teasing him, trying to provoke a response. While spending what felt like most of his time running after the bloody things felt useless, it probably served a deeper purpose. And he reminded himself that, thanks to his title, he was receiving a seven times longer period of time in here than everyone else probably were. He doubted anyone else had the speedster title, and, if so, it would only be the first level, not the seventh he had acquired. Relatively speaking, he would still be progressing faster than everybody else. ¡°Did you say butterflies?¡± He glared at her smirking face: ¡°No, I want to fight. Battle. Kill.¡± He snapped, pronouncing each word sharply. She winked at him: ¡°How about I combine them?¡± He found himself on the lake¡¯s shore. The two different butterfly types were flittering around as always, and on the other side of the lake one of the lizard dogs was drinking. His senses went on full alert, and he spun quickly to ensure that he wasn''t in imminent danger. "How can I hunt butterflies when there are monsters everywhere? " He whispered it, because he was in hostile territory, and he knew April would hear every word. "Do your best not to die." Then there was silence, and he knew he was alone. Chapter 39.1 - Butterflies The moment Tom realised that April had left, he switched his focus to survival. History suggested it was prudent to expect an immediate ambush. He sunk down into a basic spear stance with bent knees and wide feet, one that would let him respond to an attack from any direction, both as quickly and as violently as possible. Then, with his head on a swivel, he spun on the spot to make sure nothing was stalking him from behind. His mind rushed as he planned out the best strategy for the situation. The answer was simple. Secure the area, clear out the entrenched monsters, make it safe, then hunt the butterflies. With a worried glance at the wide views around him, he moved away from the exposed lakeshore to the tree line. He had no stealth skills, so his only defensive advantage were objects that could break sight lines, and those had the potential to be a double-edge sword. Just as he could use them as a visual shield, there were monsters that could use them for ambush. Every step felt dangerous, but he persisted. He had these dumb butterflies to chase, and he wasn¡¯t doing that before he had secured the location. Once within the trees, with slowly widening circles, he set out on a find to kill pattern. Tom¡¯s eyes were continuously moving sideways, up, down, behind. There was a flicker of movement in his peripherals. His mind registered a potential threat. He knew it could be as minor as a falling leaf at the edge of his vision, but it could also represent something more substantial. Without hesitation, he threw himself to the side, ducking and rolling as he did. There was a shriek, and the wind buffeted him as the creature crashed through the spot he had just been standing on. Its claws, almost large enough to encircle his head, thumped into the forest floor. It stumbled, righted itself, and then launched itself airborne. Tom observed everything he could to get intelligence on his opponent, even as he scrambled back to his feet. On the ground, its movements were ungainly. It was the size of an earthly hawk, but its skin was closer to rock in appearance than anything else. It was hard to tell when magic was involved, but it looked heavy. It was a monster that would swoop down from the skies. While it would be driven mad with a desire to kill him, it would not make the mistake of putting everything into a single death plunge again. From now on, it would attack more strategically. Mentally, Tom rehearsed the spear forms that he could use as it rose to thirty metres above him over five seconds, positioned itself so it was framed by the sun, and then swooped down upon him. It was heading straight at him, if slightly slower than with its first dive was, in order to allow the creature to redirect its course when he dodged to the side. The way it attacked presented him with an immediate choice. He could crouch and brace his spear on the ground and let the thing¡¯s own momentum impale it. Basically, he could kill it like you would a boar, but he was worried about how solid it looked and how flimsy his weapon was. It was only shaped tier zero wood with a metal tip, and without him having the skills to strengthen it into something more, there was a real chance it would shatter. Too risky, he decided, and as it plunged down, he chose the more defensive option. His feet guided him out of its flight path, while his spear went for a slicing cut rather than a death blow. The monster hit with enough weight to almost jar the weapon loose, despite Tom not having committed to a major strike. It was like stabbing a rock, and he was very glad he hadn¡¯t tried to impale it - with the creature being as dense as it was, such an effort would definitely have destroyed his weapon. Even a tier one weapon would have been vulnerable to that. The sooner he got spear mastery and associated skills the better. Having to worry about his weapon in every clash was exhausting. The thing rose back up with a shallow cut along its side, its own strike having struck nothing but air. An animal in this situation would have retreated, unless it was starving, but Tom was facing a monster. It would attack as many times as it took until one of them was dead. How long would it take to kill it? Ten engagements? Twenty? A hundred? And it wasn¡¯t like the dodges were easy. They needed a split second timing to be successful, and a single mistake, one stray claw, would be the end of him, even if it left only a scratch. The margins he was working with were thin: any injury that slowed him down was a death sentence. This was not a good first opponent for him. He was under a GOD¡¯s shield, so making a mistake wasn¡¯t the end of things. But he didn¡¯t want to die. The suffering he went through each time was equivalent to a real death, and having experienced that for real twice, Tom could say that conclusively. Again and again, it plunged down, and he repeated the same tactics, using his honed battle instincts to time his dodges, and each one left another cut on its torso. It was riddled with them. The spots where he had managed to dig the tip into an existing wound bled more intensely than the earlier ones. It was gradual, but the accumulation of wounds slowed it down. With every engagement, the spray of brown blood from the creature became more extensive. It swept down, and he repeated the manoeuvre, his spear digging in deep before he pulled it clear. Instead of banking and flying away, it crashed into the ground hard. It hopped to its feet, and its wings flapped erratically as it attempted to escape back into the air. The coordination he had observed earlier was gone. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He crossed the space separating them. The footwork he had been training for the last couple of months ensured he was perfectly balanced, and, once he was within the range, he thrust. He drove the weapon between the creature¡¯s eyes. The tip struck true, penetrating through the soft tissue into its brains. He wrenched it back out. The monster¡¯s blood, a dirty, thick, brown substance, was streaming out of the gaping wound. He pulled away, ready to strike again, but it was unnecessary. It collapsed, clearly dead. Tom didn¡¯t celebrate. He moved away immediately, trading distance between himself and the monster. Both the spilled blood and the noise would attract predators, and he knew April. She didn¡¯t do things by halves; he expected this to be a functioning ecosystem, not an Earth-style one, but an Existentia environment where, if you wanted to fight a monster, you just needed to walk a hundred metres in any direction and it would find you. Two, three, four, five? He didn¡¯t know, but he predicted that numerous creatures would already be making a beeline to where he had fought. Fifty metres later, crouched behind a tree, he relaxed slightly, and sought to calm his rasping breath and pounding heart down. There were the sounds of fighting from where he had killed the bird thing. He heard squeals, hooting, and the screech of creatures dying. He thought he recognised the calls of lizard dogs, and there were at least two of that species fighting over the remains he had left. The hooting he was less sure of, but he was certain he would run into whatever was creating the noise sooner or later. A throat cleared itself behind him. He didn¡¯t jump, he wouldn¡¯t give her the satisfaction, and this was something he was mentally prepared for. He turned slowly to face the new presence, and April waved to him. ¡°You know you¡¯re not here just to fight.¡± She pointed at a nearby butterfly with a knowing smirk. He wanted to argue back, ask what would happen if he refused to play her game, but unfortunately, he knew the answer. She would do as he asked and not force the issue, but then he would delay his progress, and that was unacceptable. He lowered his eyes briefly, and, when he raised them again, she was gone. With a groan, Tom threw himself at the problem. It took four hours, thirty battles, two deaths, twenty white butterflies, and a single orange one that he was moments from catching when something killed him from directly above. There was barely even a moment to register he was in danger: just a sharp, mercifully brief pain, and then he was back in the caf¨¦. Tom stared at the coffee and the plastic table blankly for an instant as he internalised any lessons to be found in the last few hours. The final death was irrelevant. The monster had killed him easily, and his failure was in his perception. That was not a concern because of the body he was in. An almost five-year-old body was not a deadly instrument. He had been in a hostile environment, stalking the butterfly constructs in a form too weak for the area. Being eliminated was not much of a surprise, and, if anything, dying only three times in four hours was actually better than he had expected, especially given that he had slain ten times that number of monsters. Each individual battle had been good. His awareness across the entire period would have received an ¡®A grade¡¯ mark. However, the hunting of the butterflies had been a disaster. He looked up at April: ¡°What am I doing wrong?¡± She shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re too slow.¡± Tom resisted the childish impulse to roll his eyes. ¡°I know that. It¡¯s obvious. Is there a movement ability I should be using?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°What do you mean, no? You¡¯re usually more verbose about something like this.¡± She shrugged: ¡°I mean you¡¯re like a sloth. You have no chance of snatching them up, and there¡¯s no easy movement skill available that can fix that. It¡¯s an attribute problem, not one that practice can overcome.¡± ¡°Then what¡¯s the point?¡± ¡°You tell me.¡± She stared him down, and it was Tom who looked away. In what had been a regular occurrence, he considered the oath she had made. This process, if he solved it, would be helpful. But what was the solution? She had set the challenge, and his efforts had proven that his approach to hunting them was ineffective. He was too slow to catch them, which was something April had now confirmed. What else, then? There was an answer in there somewhere. What did he know about the constructs that were mimicking butterflies? They only reacted when he was within a metre of them, but, when they responded, they were far too quick for him to grab. It was those final moments where he failed. What could solve that, he wondered? A net might be able to do it. He looked up at April hopefully@ ¡°Can I have a net. You know, a butterfly one.¡± ¡°No.¡± Tom licked his lips. He hadn¡¯t expected any other answer. That was too simple, and not how April operated. While he racked his brain, he took a tiny sip of the coffee, limiting himself, because it was still piping-hot. ¡°Maybe, if I¡¯m more careful, I could spear them.¡± ¡°No,¡± she said, chuckling. ¡°You¡¯ve already tried that. It won¡¯t work, and, besides, would defeat the lesson that I¡¯m imparting.¡± ¡°So, there is a lesson?¡± April was less constrained by the concept of keeping her dignity. She rolled her eyes. He felt suitably chastised. He frowned, annoyed at his own question about the spear. They had burst every time his weapon had pierced them. Whether he pinned a wing or struck the body, the same thing happened: they self-destructed. But there was something there. He could get near them. It was just the last scramble to catch them which was the issue. ¡°Their perception is shit. I can get close.¡± He reasoned out loud. ¡°It¡¯s my final lunge that¡¯s the problem.¡± ¡°Good, you¡¯ve worked it out.¡± They both knew he hadn¡¯t, but she obviously thought she had provided sufficient clues to let him solve it via practical experimentation. ¡°And, Tom, don¡¯t read the obvious into this, because that¡¯s not what I¡¯m intending. You¡¯ve already tried stealth. It won¡¯t help. Even skilled stealth won¡¯t cross that divide. Your presence is too bright, and you have no way of masking it. Find a different solution.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand what I have to do. No spear, no stealth. I¡¯m too slow. What¡¯s next?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get there.¡± She promised. ¡°Now, why don¡¯t you tell me what¡¯s happening in the real world?¡± ¡°Real world! I¡¯m in an artificial environment, hiding my real self. This is more real than out there.¡± She rolled her eyes again: ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. You have friends now.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call them that. There aren¡¯t any opportunities to chat and shoot the breeze. I don¡¯t know Kang any better than I did two weeks ago when I found out about him.¡± April made all the right sounds as Tom unloaded all of his pent-up stress and frustrations. The moment he took his final sip of coffee, he was returned to the lake shore. Chapter 39.2 - Butterflies This time, he was more aware as he approached the butterflies. The range they reacted in was very clear. It didn¡¯t matter if he put a fingertip over the line or his entire head - they flew away instantly in either case. Then, with them fluttering around, it was luck more than skill whether he got a hand on it. Tom paused and studied his target. Like a normal butterfly would, it was sitting on a flower, its wings beating slowly. He could feel the precognition energy in it. His hand snapped forward. The butterfly took off, and he didn¡¯t try to catch it. Instead, he followed it until his hand brushed against a wing. The moment he felt contact he pulled the power into him. The wing crumbled to a few bits of ash and the central body imploded to nothing as he removed the energy. He had failed to grab it, but he had sucked the energy out successfully. Maybe that was the answer she had alluded to? This was a test to develop a crafting skill. It didn¡¯t make sense to put such a huge focus on his agility. To achieve April¡¯s challenge, Tom had to rely on the skill he was developing. Quietly, he chuckled. He moved on with a newfound focus. Maybe he could stun them by extracting a small amount of energy. Not enough to kill, just to disable. Or maybe the answer was to start manipulating the power away from him. If he could draw the energy from the white butterflies at a metre¡¯s distance, or even that of half a metre, they would never be fast enough to escape him. Energised, he kept going. There was a sound of rustling leaves, and he spun to see a lizard dog pouncing upon him. Instinctively, he stepped backwards as the spear slipped into position with the tip perfectly aligned. The creature impaled itself. The shaft jarred under his hands, but didn¡¯t splinter. Then he dropped the dying creature to the ground, withdrew his weapon, and moved away hurriedly. Tom cursed silently at the unexpected encounter. He had thought he had cleared the area, and now the scent of its blood would draw other predators, even if from a noise perspective the fight had been nearly silent. After creating distance, he went back to hunting the butterflies, all the while keeping an eye out for the real monsters. His mind was whirling as he tried to figure out how to use his half-formed skill to help the process. There were no further revelations, but he left the trial happy with his progress. The playground April had created for him stretched his spear skills beautifully, and he could feel the improvements. It was a series of subtle enhancements: a slightly better grip to keep the tip steadier, his tactical retreats transitioning into delayed counterattacks more easily. The improvements were clear and broad in their coverage. He exited the trial, and Dimitri¡¯s firm hand guided him away. He went to dinner, slept, attended classes, fought, practiced, ate some more, slept again, and like clockwork, another handful of days passed. He was in class, with his thoughts in the clouds, as he mentally traced the merge and creation paths to get to Touch Heal. ¡°You there! Are you listening?¡± A magical finger poked him in the side, and he startled upwards. ¡°Um¡­ what¡­ um¡­¡± his mind desperately checked his short-term memory to see what he had missed. ¡°Um¡­ you want me to read¡­ um¡­¡± Their current teacher, a champion from Earth, gestured impatiently. She looked to be seventeen, eighteen at the most, but, since she was from earth, he knew she was close to being at least a hundred. Where high vitalities, and, in this case, probably a trait slowed aging so dramatically, apparent age meant nothing. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Yes, sonny. Come up and read to the class.¡± She appeared to be a teenager. Tom focused on that point. She used the word ¡®sonny¡¯, so had undoubtedly been far older on earth, and she had entered the competition as a teen. Which implied vanity had beat out practicality. He didn¡¯t like her. Kang, sitting next to him, elbowed him. Tom hesitated a moment before acting. On one hand, this was the sort of occasion that it would be best to retreat into the system room, but on the other, he needed to improve his acting, and living in the pseudo system room was not a long term solution. He got up and read two pages of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. ¡°That word¡¯s porridge, dear,¡± she snapped at him. ¡°Just like it said porridge on the last page.¡± Tom pretended to cower in response. She visibly calmed herself. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sonny, it¡¯s a hard word. You did great. Now, why don¡¯t we let another person have a go. You¡­¡± She pointed straight at Bir. ¡°Hopefully you can do better than he did.¡± Bir¡¯s face went red. Her eyes flicked around worriedly. Everyone was staring at her, and Tom knew Bir well enough to know this was not the type of situation she flourished in. Not only was an aggressive adult talking to her, but the entire class was gawking as well. Her mouth formed words, but no noise came out. ¡°Can I?¡± Kang asked, jumping to his feet and walking towards the front of the room. ¡°It¡¯s my turn.¡± ¡°No, sit.¡± The woman ordered, and she had some sort of force domain because Kang was picked up and carried back to his chair. ¡°We¡¯re going in order, dearie. We don¡¯t want your little friend to miss out, do you.¡± Bir had shrunk away further, trying to become as small as a mouse, if that was possible. Her hands clutched the desk so tightly that her fingernails grew white. Tom didn¡¯t understand how the teacher hadn¡¯t noticed and why she hadn¡¯t taken the easy way out that Kang had been quick-witted enough to offer. ¡°Come up, dear, I don¡¯t bite.¡± She continued, her voice artificially gentle. It might work with a dog, but no one here was fooled. ¡°Can I read another page?¡± Tom asked before he could help himself. ¡°I won¡¯t say porridge wrong.¡± The old crone, whose body was that of a pretty young girl, frowned at him: ¡°No. I told you go sit. It¡¯s her turn.¡± When he glanced back at the other two, Tom knew he had stuffed up. Kang was glaring at him. He had wanted to protect Bir, but doing it and putting his reincarnated status at risk was a definite no go. Before he could do anything to fix the problem, he was lifted and placed back in his chair. All choice was taken away from him, but not in a violent manner. The domain was soft but unyielding in its strength. A velvet sledgehammer type of experience. There was no way he could resist, and, even if his attributes were ten times higher, he still would have struggled. He was deposited in his seat. Bir hadn¡¯t moved. She was trembling. There were tears in her eyes. Tom realised his rage wasn¡¯t responding, and he noted it down as another data point. It was not just about Bir being hurt or humiliated; it was more about something being unjust that got his hackles up. Here, she was being treated like everyone else, but when that treatment, even if it was fair, resulted in her being paraded in front of the class, it wasn¡¯t a circumstance she was able to cope with. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetie. It¡¯ll just be one page.¡± Bir shivered, and he saw the stubborn way her eyes tightened. She jumped from the chair and sprinted toward the door. ¡°Stop,¡± the teacher snapped. Bir froze almost mid stride. She hung there helplessly like Tom had when he had been grabbed by that soft but completely unyielding domain. Then Dimitri was suddenly by Bir¡¯s side and the pressure containing her vanished. ¡°No, Beatrice, we don¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°Kids need discipline.¡± Dimitri stared her down: ¡°We force attendance, but not participation. It was how we got parents to agree. This is council¡¯s orders.¡± ¡°No one cares about that. She¡¯s one of the orphans.¡± ¡°No, Beatrice. No. I don¡¯t run things like that. Everyone gets treated equally.¡± Dimitri growled and his eyes flashed dangerously. Tom remembered the message added to his title when he had confirmed that Dimitri was reincarnated. Tom and Corrine could say Dimitri¡¯s name because the other man was strong enough to defeat the rank seventy assassins that hunted the reincarnated ones. ¡°Am I being clear?¡± Dimitri snarled. They all felt the change when their primary caretaker chose to express himself. It felt like a terrifying beast was amongst them; like a wrong move would result in them being sliced into multiple parts. Beatrice recoiled: ¡°I¡¯ll- I¡¯ll do better¡­¡± she stammered. ¡°You.¡± She pointed at Kang. ¡°You said you wanted to go next. Please, come up.¡± Partially shielded by Dimitri¡¯s body, Bir fled the room. Chapter 40 – Minor Breakthrough Tom shuffled forward, his mind awhirl with possibilities. There were eight kids ahead, and then he could enter the trial. Today, he was going to be successful. He could feel it deep inside him, this ball of certainty that he had felt before. He had felt it multiple times, in fact, but most notably it happened when he had stumbled on the idea of extracting the racial trait of another species. It was the same sensation, a crystallised nugget of truth that could not be denied. Of course, this time it was not for anything as dramatic as materially updating his species¡¯ racial trait, but still, a breakthrough was imminent. It had taken him a couple of days to realise, but at the end of the last session he had advanced the skill he had been working on. With time to reflect on his actions, he was certain that he had made tangible progress before running out of time. Admittedly, it was only a little advancement at best, but his intellect assured him it was more significant than that. Perhaps, it was a precursor to something greater, and he had been obsessed with the idea since, to the point where he had resolved to spend his fate on skill development rather than his magic spells. The event itself, the action, was almost laughably simple, so he was unsure of why it had such weight to it. But it did, and, when he looked back at his memories, he was sure he had been drawing energy away from the butterflies a moment before his hand actually made contact. He was pragmatic. Years alone in the tutorial had taught him that there was no profit in self-delusion. He recognised that this could easily be a case of false recollections, of a desire for progress creating an illusion of a non-existent event, but overlaying that was the richness of the truth that accompanied the memories. The air gap between him and the constructs had been no wider than a fingernail. But he could manage that distance, and then practice would extend it to a finger, then to a hand, maybe an arm, and possibly even further. In that case, every centimetre would make the killing of the white butterflies exponentially easier. Then it would just become a matter of storing the energy for long enough to get close to an orange one. Dimitri¡¯s hand was on his chest, holding him in place for the mandatory thirty seconds. Then he let go, and Tom stepped forward. He reached out and touched the impossibly perfect sphere that changed the very atmosphere around it. The world shifted, and he was in the cafe. Disappointment flowed through him. He had been hoping to throw himself into the action immediately. April was across from him, sitting on the same stool as usual. She took one look at him, and then a smile lit up her face. She gave a joyful clap: ¡°Yay. I was gonna give a prep talk, but it looks like it¡¯s unnecessary. You¡¯re as smug as an oracle given free rein in a casino. From your grin, I¡¯m assuming you worked out that you were manipulating the energy outside your body.¡± ¡°Yes. I did it!¡± He used his fingers on the plastic table to create an excited drum roll. ¡°Come on, there¡¯s no time to talk. Let me at them.¡± ¡°Eager much? But I¡¯m not taking away the monsters.¡± She warned him. ¡°Don¡¯t be overconfident.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll deal with them.¡± He promised. The angel nodded: ¡°Good luck, Tom.¡± The world shifted, and he was once more standing on the lake¡¯s shore, in the exact same spot that he always appeared. With a quick glance to confirm there was nothing in his immediate vicinity, he moved directly towards the tree line. There could be no mistakes. He didn¡¯t want his progress interrupted by needless deaths. Four steps was all it took for a monster to emerge out of the shade of the tree where Tom was heading. It could be best described as a duck with a four-part beak that parted to show razor-sharp teeth. It hooted and charged. There were only three metres separating them and Tom instinctively stabbed as he retreated from it. It was a quick jab to force time rather than aiming to hurt it. He hit, and it flinched back from the pain and broke off from its charge. Tom was immediately in his Battle Trance mindset, assessing everything around him. He hadn¡¯t fought this specific species before, but he had watched them combating other beasts, and had investigated the aftermaths of their battles. Out of the local monster population, they were probably the most dangerous foe he could face. They always hunted in pairs and used stealth to flank opponents, with the surprise attack often finishing their foes in the first moments of the contest. Currently, only one was charging him. His internal alarms went off. It was a decoy. Where was its partner? It could not be behind him, given the water; nor to his right - his peripheral vision covered that area perfectly. He spun to his blind side spear in motion under the assumption that that was where the attack was coming from. Too slow. He thought. My reaction was way too slow. The expected second monster was already airborne, flying at him silently. His scrambled desperate reaction gave him a chance, but his weapon was out of position, a casualty of his frantic spin. Instead of taking a more measured approach, he swung in an attempt to smash it, baseball style. For once, when it came to fighting Existentia¡¯s monsters, physics was on his side. The duck was light, and his blow had his mass behind it, and he struck the creature flush on its chest. There was a dull thud, and it was knocked away, flying parallel to the water. It wasn¡¯t hurt, but this should buy him three or four seconds, which was vital in this type of fight. The original razor-teeth duck, the one he had stabbed, was coming back for attempt number two. Its mouth was open, a deadly maw large enough to take a chunk the size of a softball out of him. The threat was real. Tom had witnessed one of the mutated ducks bite a lizard-dog¡¯s leg right off, and not down low either, but rather next to the torso, where it was thickest. A single chomp that had severed everything - and the skin and flesh of a lizard dog was far tougher than his own. Half a second was all he had, but that was an eternity in battle. He placed his blow more carefully. From observation, they had an insane amount of vitality, so trying to bleed them to death with stabs would be futile. This was a battle of attrition, and crippling mobility was the path to victory. Warily, he controlled his counterattack, and used the bladed edge of his spear tip. The blade came down as planned on the wing joint. He felt heavy resistance that abruptly gave way as the weapon sheared through the feathers, flesh, tendons, and hollow bone. A thrill of relief went through him. He had suspected that, with the creature¡¯s other host of advantages, its resilience had to be low to compensate for its rank, but he still hadn¡¯t expected his counter to be so outrageously successful. He had hoped to disable the wing, but removing it entirely was better. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Tom side stepped away from the monster. It attempted to follow by flapping its wings, but that had the opposite effect it was hoping. The single wing knocked it off course and sent it careering out of control. He was safe from it for the moment, so he turned to face the second creature. It had recovered with frustrating speed, and was already too close for him to use his spear effectively. Options flashed through his head even as he swung the butt of his weapon to knock the dangerous head away from him. It was basically at his feet and without considering the wisdom of it he wound up and punted it like you would do with a football ball. The bird was lifted off the ground and sent crashing into the lake; it splashed and then bounced at least once, the way pebbles did when you threw them to skip across a dam surface. It was disposed of, for now. He turned back to the other creature in the fight. Unfortunately, it was already becoming acclimatised to its missing wing, and, while moving slower than usual, it was wobbling toward him in a mostly-straight line. Tom pounced when it half tripped and hacked off the other wing. He heard the other one explode out of the water as it burnt some sort of skill. He tracked it out of the corner of his eye and performed a forward roll as the uninjured one went flying over where his head had been. Then he stood and spun, unleashing a savage downward cut to lop off one of its wings as well. Both monsters were now struggling without their primary source of mobility. Their threat level went from deadly to nothing more than a nuisance. Tom couldn¡¯t afford to take it easy, though, because the missing appendages were regrowing at a visible pace. They would be restored to full functionality in less than half a minute, if given time. He wasn¡¯t about to afford them that luxury, and he set about cutting them into pieces. This course of action was helped by them continuing to pursue him relentlessly. If they had run away to buy themselves time to recover, Tom knew he would have been in trouble. But their suicidal focus on slaughtering him made their demise a certainty. This was a weakness of them being monsters, but one he was happy to exploit. He went to work, slicing off regrowing wings, then legs, and then redoing those cuts when they regrew back to a functional state. He attempted to hack off a head, but the skin over that area rebuffed his blade. Apparently, the species had extra armour protecting the location of what would otherwise have been a critical weak point. Only once their regeneration slowed did he go for the kill. Panting heavily, he thrust the spear in and left it in the middle of the creature¡¯s body, right through the heart. The wound tried to close, but there was nothing it could do with the weapon still inside. Finally, the second of them stopped moving. He quickly checked his surroundings, particularly upwards, then stared at the nearby tree line and measured how long the battle had taken. It had gone on for minutes, and the bloodshed had occurred in the first seconds. Worse, he was covered in their almost human-like, burgundy-coloured blood. The stink of copper was an issue that would attract attention. Tom could stay and fight off the coming monsters, or¡­ He glanced back at the water. It was warm and, as far as he could tell, not populated with threats. Carefully, he retreated into its depths, walking backwards and crouching until everything but his face was covered. A human wouldn¡¯t be fooled, but the monster species that inhabited the area were not that perceptive - at least, in the visual sense. Four separate octolegs emerged from the tree line. Tom tensed. If he had waited a moment longer, he would have been exposed. Very conscious of how bad his hiding spot was he held himself perfectly still. The monsters were all the same species. They wouldn¡¯t fight amongst themselves. There wasn¡¯t going to be a life and death battle as a convenient distraction to hide his presence. Tom wished he knew more about the octoleg¡¯s physiology. Hopefully, they had terrible eyesight and relied on other senses like heat, smell and vibrations - all of which the water would hide. To his immense relief, they ate the corpses, then retreated into the trees within five minutes, clearly feeling exposed on the shoreline. A disturbing thought struck Tom. He hoped that their desire to return to the forest was because of the aerial threats and not concern about monsters lurking in the lake. Despite his mind warning him that something dark and nasty was creeping up from the lake bottom, Tom stayed in the water for a few minutes longer to allow the octolegs to get far enough away that him emerging from the lake wouldn¡¯t attract their attention. Once he decided that sufficient time had passed, he rushed to dry land. He glanced worriedly back as he did so. Nothing stirred. There wasn¡¯t a single suspicious ripple; not that a monster of the deep would create anything like that before they struck from ambush. He shivered. It seemed innocent, but a large part of him shuddered at the stupidity of retreating into the water when he didn¡¯t know whether anything was in there. There were more monsters than he could imagine that might lurk in the deeper water, and all of them would have killed him. Then again, trying to fight off four octolegs would have been suicide, so maybe the gamble had been worth it. Tom forced himself to stop dwelling on possibilities. He had a job to do. He had been rehearsing his plan in his head for days just for this moment . It was time to develop his skill, and the moment he looked for a target, he spotted one. It had settled on a flower that was just springing back up from when either he or one of the monsters had stepped on it in the earlier fight. He approached cautiously, and then watched, amused, as it beat its wings, completely oblivious to his presence. The wings looked so lifelike, and despite their artificial nature, they were almost identical to the butterflies he remembered from earth. He shook his head. That similarity had been created by April deliberately. Carefully, he crept closer, then paused just outside its detection range. He had a job to do. Then, while he was staying lightly on his feet, his hand snapped forward rapidly to decrease the distance between him and the butterfly. As usual, it took off from the flower the instant he breached its detection distance, but Tom didn¡¯t panic. He just observed its motions and followed it with his outstretched finger. He was too slow to grab it, but, as it flittered upwards, he kept the pressure up, attempting not to catch it, but to get close enough to touch it. The entire time he was linked to the precognition energy within it, trying to draw it from the construct into his fingers. The energy he was tugging on gave slightly. A tiny slither arced across the air that separated the butterfly and his finger. The butterfly¡¯s flight faltered. For two beats, its wing stopped moving, and it fell like a wet leaf, flipping and spinning a little, but mostly being subjected to gravity. It regained control before hitting the ground, but it took precious moments and most of the height it had gained had been lost before it stabilised its trajectory. By then it was too late for it. Tom was already kneeling and cupping both hands over it. It was caught. He held it in place without actually touching it. Then he focused on drawing the energy out of the trapped creature. The power flowed, and through the cracks between his fingers he watched as the butterfly burned up. Desperately he kept track of the energy and attempted to hold it inside himself, but the moment it entered his skin he lost contact with it. Tom frowned. That had not gone how he had imagined. At least, the last step had not. On the other hand, he was pushing boundaries, so he should have expected success and failure to go hand in hand. Still, despite the undoubted success of remotely extracting the energy, he felt empty. He had been hoping to store the stolen power as well. He did not lower his head. He had hours to do this. His fate was regenerating, and his pool was full. Carefully, he built the image, then invested a single point to help increase the range of his absorption. All of his focus was on the butterflies. He tracked them down one after the other, and, to his relief, he didn¡¯t run into any monsters. His range increased to a knuckle, then to two knuckles, then a full finger-length. The butterfly he was stalking stood no chance. None of them could escape anymore. His hand dived in, and before it took off and got within range, he drew a tiny amount of energy out of it. That had the effect of stunning it. The construct tumbled out of the air, and, as it was still close to the ground, trapping it was trivial. There was a ding. He paused for a fraction of a moment as a thrill of excitement went through him. Then he suppressed the emotions. He wasn¡¯t done. Whatever skill he got was probably on the level of Heal Scratch ¨C in other words, trash that was not worth worrying about. Tom could feel it in his gut. He knew what he was capable of, and he was positive he could push his manipulation of the precognition energy even further. Plus, he hadn¡¯t even achieved the basics of what April had tasked him with. She wanted him to be able to kill orange butterflies, and he hadn¡¯t taken out even one of them yet. He could feel the nervous tension in himself, the desire to do more. Now was not the time to reflect on his gains. Instead, he had to push everything further. There was more to do. He had to kill both types of butterflies, and maybe also train his spear against monsters. Not that he had seen one of them for a while, which he was surprisingly fine with. There were skills he wanted to develop, and he didn¡¯t need near pointless distractions. Chapter 41.1 – Training to Exhaustion Tom looked down at the butterfly in his hand and thought about the ding. It had to be a new skill, one allowing him to extract precognition energy. He wished he had access to the ritual status screen to confirm the exact wording. But, unfortunately, here in the trial, that wasn¡¯t an option. Or, perhaps, it was, and all he had to do was ask April. Specifics didn¡¯t matter that much, anyway. He would ask her at his next break, but for now it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try and feel the new ability out with experimentation. On a whim, he released the captured butterfly, and it flew through the air, trying to separate from him as much as possible. He ran at it. When he re-entered its detection area, it burst forward speedily in order to escape him. Like always, it was too slow. Instinctively, he flexed his new skill as he swung his left hand at the fleeing construct. The butterfly¡¯s wings were burnt into ash in moments, and its body imploded. His flailing arm hadn¡¯t gotten close to it. He thought about what had just happened. That ding had definitely signified the acquisition of a skill, and it more than doubled the range he had managed with his method of creating the effect manually. It was definitely a skill, and he smiled happily at the confirmation. It was the first skill he had developed personally in all of his lives, and he promised himself that there would be more coming. Now that he had done it once, future attempts would be easier. He could feel that deep in his soul. Using the skill was easy, like it was with all the other skills he had ever possessed. It was like a muscle that he could flex to get the desired result. The formal skill allowed him to kill white butterflies at will, but that wasn¡¯t the challenge April had given him; rather, it was only the first step. His job was to kill the orange ones, and that was far more challenging. There were two approaches that made sense to him: either to store precognition energy, or stun a white butterfly and carry it around until he got closer to an orange one. He did not want to attempt the latter option, at least not until he had confirmed that the former, more complete approach wasn¡¯t feasible. April was very deliberate in her actions. If he was doing something that was impossible and did nothing for his development, she would intercede. He wasn¡¯t currently in combat, and the fact that he was still here meant his approach was what she wanted him to do. With his decision made, he invested ten points, a full third of his remaining fate¡¯s reserves, into the concept of storing the precognition energy. That was the only thing he wanted it to do: draw it into himself or nearby, then hold it there. He saw a flash of white above and honed in on the light reflected off the fluttering wings. That was another victim to develop his abilities against. It moved more erratically than most, flying high with its speed supplemented by the stronger winds above him. The extra speed and the way it would bob upwards out of the range of his questing fingers was beyond frustrating. It seemed to have a sixth sense that let it know where his hands were. When he jumped, it just happened to fly higher and get out of range. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. For about the sixth time, it reversed its direction. Annoyed, he spun to follow it, and then the butterfly smacked straight into his face. It was pressed against his nose and, instinctively, he flexed his new skill to destroy the annoying thing. Its energy was sucked into his open mouth. In surprise, he shut his lips, and then he froze. The ball of precognition energy had not vanished immediately. It still existed, despite the butterfly having been turned to ash. Tom could feel it inside him, on top of his tongue, pressing against his shut lips as it attempted to escape. It hadn¡¯t dissipated the way it did when it entered his fingers. It was still there, trapped and available for him to direct. Even as he registered that, his mind tracked the unlikely sequence of events leading up to this. The way the butterfly had avoided him and then ran smack bang into his mouth and surprised him into using his ability. He had always known the power of fate, but he wondered how hard it would have been to discover this method for a non-human that didn¡¯t have that convenient resource available to help them. He guessed their April equivalent would have needed to give them more hints. She would absolutely have known about this loophole, and the fact she hadn¡¯t told him about this spoke to a deeper truth. Like many things about the orphanage¡¯s set-up, everything implied that there were titles to be had, and he made another mental note not to ask questions. Tom forced his mind away from the philosophical questions and stood unmoving, focusing on trapping the power inside him. It was a losing battle, as he sensed the density of the energy start to drop almost immediately. Holding it like this was inefficient: every breath sucked away twenty percent of the latent energy as it disappeared into his lungs or the surrounding air. Still, this was a breakthrough. He figured the solution wasn¡¯t linked to his mouth. Any internal air gap should be able to be used. Could he cup his hands tightly and hold it that way, he wondered? A crystal, he intuited, would almost certainly work better than his mouth. At a minimum, it would remove the problem of breathing, as that was the main source of energy loss. What was next, he asked himself? Should he go around headbutting the butterflies? Tom chuckled as he imagined how ridiculous that would look - a butterfly sitting on a flower and him flying headfirst at it to get close enough. It would be absolutely hilarious. April would have a field day with it for months. Tom also suspected it was not a valid solution. If it was, he would do it, even at the risk of being teased. What stopped him was that using his mouth felt like a dead end, but he still needed a space to store the energy. The experience of cupping his hands tightly to hold in water told him that any attempt like that was a losing battle. Then a different idea occurred to him. There was nothing that said the space he used had to be natural, and his healing endeavours gave him the perfect spell for this situation. Tom focused and then activated Skin Wall on his finger. Slowly, like a pouch of a kangaroo, a second skin grew over the nail of his index finger. It took him over half an hour to finish the design and it was bulbous, ugly, and only large enough to contain three or four rice grains of space. But it created a perfect reservoir of air within his body. When he approached the next butterfly, only his modified finger went near it. His new skill had a range of two feet, but he didn¡¯t try to use it at that distance. Instead, he followed the butterfly¡¯s flight until making physical contact with the creature. Only then did he draw the power into the cavity he had created. The butterfly burned away into ash, and a small amount of energy was successfully stored in the newly shaped pouch. It wasn¡¯t much, and only a fraction of what he had briefly held in his mouth, with most being lost as he had transitioned the power through the thin layer of skin. It was a success, even if a minor one. Now he had to build it into something material. Chapter 41.2 – Training to Exhaustion Tom kept hunting, and focused on increasing the energy he could store. All of his fingers were now covered with the weird skin bulges to boost his volume. It was hideous, and if anyone saw the hands by themselves no one would think they belonged to a human. He was in a trial and it was all temporary, so he didn¡¯t care. The entirety of his focus was on improving his actions. He concentrated on increasing the density within each of the spaces, an approach that was met with mixed success. However, there were enough wins, and the amount he could store was steadily extended to allow him to shift his efforts towards hunting the orange ones. Every scrap of precognition energy he gained was used to kill them. He knew the pouch method he was using was both a cheat and not. No one reasonable would expect that solution, but it worked, so he kept persisting with a focus on efficiency. His fate pool drained away to zero as he boosted his efforts. There was another ding. There had been a couple more before, but Tom had been in the zone and ignored them. Currently, he was resting against a tree, and he wasn¡¯t sure if it the latest upgrade had been awarded for the success in moving, storing, or directly creating the energy. He was pretty certain it was the first, but it was hard to tell. His thoughts felt mushy, and he was losing track of what was happening. Specifics were irrelevant. Every part of the capture, storage and killing process had improved. Tom pressed on. The number of white butterflies in the environment dropped alarmingly. Annoyed at his over-hunting, he adjusted his strategy to push for even more efficiency. He stunned butterflies now and carried them for a while to limit the steady losses that occurred when the energy was trapped in his air pouches. There was another ding. He was exhausted. Tom¡¯s double vision that occurred when he was chasing a butterfly allowed it to escape. He was continuously out of breath, and his heart was beating harder than it should have been. Luckily, there were no monsters nearby, because Tom doubted he could fight effectively in his current state. He wondered if he should continue or not. Then he saw a flicker of white. These were rare now, and this was not an opportunity he could afford to ignore. Almost staggering, he ran the butterfly down, taking a zig-zagging path because of the tricks his mind was playing on him. In contrast to the difficulty of physical exertion, it was ridiculously easy to flex his skill and take its energy. Not that the use of his skill didn¡¯t have side-effects. The effort made his hands and feet tingle. Part of him knew he should call out to April and ask to stop. Something was very wrong: the double vision, the unexpected dizziness, the fact that he had vomited multiple times. If he was in the wild, he would be hunkering down, but he wasn¡¯t. He was under a GOD¡¯s shield, and he was making progress, and if whatever he was doing was truly dangerous, she would intercede. The fact she hadn¡¯t meant it was safe to keep pushing. This was the only place he could safely push himself to extremes without a fear of consequences. There were so many orange butterflies and so few white ones that sometimes he would successfully tag an orange construct and then discover that he lacked the power to destroy them fully. That made him rage inside and push harder. Now that he knew what it felt like to move the energy, to shift it, turn it, hold, condense, use and create it, killing orange butterflies was becoming easier. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Physically, everything remained a struggle. He spotted another orange butterfly and ran for it. His brain was barely functioning, but he gathered energy as he went, creating the precognition affinity in preparation to closing with his target. All he had to do was to reach out and touch it and focus on sending the energy into it, and it would die. He flexed and discovered his pouches didn¡¯t have enough in them. That sort of made sense, as he couldn¡¯t remember when he had killed the last white butterfly. That wasn¡¯t acceptable. He wasn¡¯t about to allow another one to escape. He drew deeply on his inner self, flexing the muscle that was not connected to anything physical to create more energy to make sure it died. There was a ding. The world blurred, and he found himself in the cafe. He wanted to sleep, but there was no coffee in front of him, just two crystals. One was empty and the other full. His stomach seethed, and he longed to vomit messily on the floor. Or, maybe, passing out was the better option. ¡°Hold it together, Tom,¡± April ordered perfunctorily and then reached over and pushed the filled crystal toward him. ¡°Convert this.¡± He was almost swaying on the spot. His brain was fuzzy, and at the same time it felt like it was clamped in a vice. His eyes felt tarred up, and every blink hurt. The crystal she had given him was in his hands, filled with normal mana. ¡°Convert it.¡± April ordered again. Why? He thought, but it was too much effort to vocalise. He wanted to sleep. ¡°Tom,¡± she clicked her fingers. ¡°Stay with me. Focus, convert the energy.¡± Flexing the muscle was easy, even if it made bile rise up in his throat and caused his brain to feel like it was being pelted with shrapnel. It was easy to pull the energy out of the crystal to run along his skin, to adjust it as it went by, then push it back to where it came from. Slowly, the mana in the crystal converted to have a precognition affinity. There was a ding. ¡°Good.¡± April said. The precious stone vanished and she nodded at the empty one. ¡°Now fill that.¡± For a moment, he was confused, and he wondered how he was supposed to do that and why he was here. He glanced around and found himself unable to focus on the other customers. Was that an indication that something was wrong with him? No, he had never been able to see them. It was how this cafe worked. What was he doing again? His memory was playing tricks on him, and the hard floor looked like a comfortable bed. ¡°Fill it.¡± April repeated insistently. He studied what she was talking about. It was an empty mana crystal. It only had a capacity of five, which was tiny. In other words, it was small enough that he could use his mana pool and regeneration to gather sufficient mana for it. It depended on the efficiency with which it accepted mana, but half an hour should be sufficient. ¡°With precognition affinity.¡± ¡°What?¡± he stared at the crystal. Then remembered all the training. ¡°April¡­¡± he trailed off to silence for a moment. He wanted desperately to lean over and bring up everything in his stomach. ¡°I don¡¯t feel so well.¡± ¡°I know. Do you trust me?¡± He looked at her. She was perfect, but too symmetrical to be real, her eyes a little too large, her skin too smooth. His instinct was to run screaming at how alien she was, but she had also sworn an oath, and that meant everything in Existentia. ¡°Yes, I do.¡± ¡°Then fill it.¡± He picked the stone up and then remembered the moments that passed before he was summoned here. If he could create precognition energy directly, then doing as she asked wouldn¡¯t be that difficult. He flexed his mind and spent the two points of fate that he had available without really thinking about it. Then he focused everything he could on the task. Minutes passed while Tom stayed in the trance. A point of attuned mana appeared in the crystal, which was great, but more significant was that his own mana pool hadn¡¯t moved. That didn¡¯t make any sense, but he kept concentrating on the task. His eyes could no longer focus, and the crystal went from a blur to two to four, then back to indistinct blurs. The world was swaying in tune with his heartbeats. Tom pushed the distractions aside and concentrated on the task. It ticked up another point. That was two out of five. He was almost halfway there, and he was under a GOD¡¯s shield. He could do this. There was another ding and a sound of trumpets. April was beaming at him. She plucked the stone out of his hand. The trumpets were good, but he hadn¡¯t wanted to fail April. She had commanded him to fill it, and he had failed. There were two Aprils. He stared down at his three hands¡­ why were some of them fuzzy? The swaying was growing. The world flipped, and he crashed to the ground. For a moment, he looked at the underside of the table in disbelief. Was that old gum? It didn¡¯t make any sense that she had included that detail. ¡°Tom, are you okay?¡± he heard the trial spirit yelling in sudden concern. Then there was blackness. Chapter 42 – First Title Tom stared upwards. He was drifting in and out of sleep. There was a comfortable silence, and warm blankets were covering him. His vision resolved itself into a ceiling he recognised - one he had spent most mornings of his first twenty years staring up at. It was perfect right down to the very distinctive peeling paint patch off to the side. He was back in his old bedroom, but why? Everything that took place over the last few hours felt hazy. There was a shape to the side. He tilted his head to look at her, and the effort caused pain that vibrated through his head. He saw enough to confirm that April was sitting with him. ¡°What happened?¡± he asked her. ¡°Skill exhaustion.¡± She told him. He stared blankly at her. That statement made sense and yet didn¡¯t. It explained the headache, but he had overstressed Power Strike before, and it didn¡¯t feel anything like this. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Understand? Yeah, I know. It¡¯s a complex field, but the summary is that it hits harder when you¡¯re overusing newly acquired skills.¡± His brain recalled the dings¡­ and then - had there been trumpets as well? Tom found he couldn¡¯t remember. Everything was lost in a haze of hunting butterflies, and then the caf¨¦ and the crystals. ¡°Did you just imply that I have a new skill?¡± ¡°Yes. Four, in fact.¡± ¡°What?¡± he tried to sit up, and it was like a frozen pick axe was driven into his forehead. Something like the worse brain freeze ever crossed with a bad migraine struck him. With an involuntary gasp, he collapsed back onto the bed. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t move. I¡¯m healing you, but this type of damage is tricky. But yes, you have new skills. Seven acquisitions, in total, but you have lost the tier zero ones when you evolved and merged them into tier one versions.¡± Tom lay there, looking up at the familiar roof, as he considered what she had said. Four skills sounded like a lot, especially since he didn¡¯t have access to an easy way to check them. ¡°Um¡­ is it possible? I mean, can you-¡± He winced as even talking softly caused the headache to build again. April smiled. ¡°Can I show you the skills? Because otherwise you¡¯ll never find them until you turn ten? Is that what you¡¯re stammering about?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He would have said more, but he worried about another repeat of that headache. Her face softened in response to his clear distress: ¡°Since you discovered them during the trial, yes, I can display them for you. I have to say, you¡¯re an overachiever. For the crafting you¡¯ll be doing, you only needed one of these.¡± She waved her hand, and the four skills appeared conveniently on the ceiling. ¡°Only one of three were needed?¡± She laughed: ¡°Any apart from the storage ability would have been sufficient. Of course, more means faster crafting, which is better.¡± Tom stared at the four skills in wonder. He had created these himself. Yes, the situation had been perfect to facilitate the development, but it was his effort that had got him here. Skill: Manipulate Precognition Mana ¨C Tier 1 This skill allows the user to manipulate up to sixteen points of precognition attuned mana at once ¡°There¡¯s a tier zero version of this, which would also have been adequate for our purposes.¡± April told him. ¡°For crafting, you¡¯re just transferring the energy from one spot to another. But this isn¡¯t that limiting. It¡¯ll let you drain any object up to tier three easily, and give you a chance of limited success on stronger items. It¡¯ll basically enable you to power down wards and objects that rely on precognition energy. I wouldn¡¯t say they¡¯re common, but they do exist, and when they do, they¡¯re the hardest to bring down. This skill will make the effort far easier for you.¡± She was finished with her explanation, so he turned his attention to the next skill. Skill: Store Precognition Mana ¨C Tier 1 With a conscious effort, you can store up to thirty-two points of precognition affinity mana. 2% of stored energy will be lost every minute. Tom frowned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mention cavities?¡± ¡°You mean your fingernail trick?¡± He started to nod and regretted the attempt instantly: ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°This will only apply to the energy held in your body. If you want to disfigure yourself, you¡¯ll be able to break that mana limit.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a pretty good skill, isn¡¯t it?¡± She wrinkled her nose in disgust and then shook her head at that. ¡°No, it¡¯s a bad skill. I don¡¯t see much use for it. Situationally, it can increase the amount of mana you have available.¡± She did not look like she thought that was a good idea. ¡°Nah, not worth it, and the decay is too great. Hopefully, you can use it as fuel to upgrade one of the other abilities.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Tom checked the final two skills. Skill: Convert Unaspected mana to Precognition Affinity ¨C Tier 1 Can convert 16 points of unaspected mana to precognition aspected mana per minute. Skill: Create Precognition Attuned Mana ¨C Tier 1 Can create 4 points of precognition aspected mana per minute. ¡°Despite them all being the same tier, that last is the most powerful of the four.¡± The off-hand comment April had made about the storage skill was troubling him. ¡°Can I really use this mana to cast other spells?¡± April looked speculatively at him. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve picked up on that throwaway comment. Don¡¯t tell me, Tom, is there really more to you than a fanatical battle maniac?¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m more than that. My success in my first life was because of my planning skills.¡± Her lips quirked: ¡°The one you lasted six months in?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± he started and then ground to a halt as, for a moment, he couldn¡¯t think of a witty retort. ¡°Like, I don¡¯t want to be that person, but dying that quickly would support my stereotyping.¡± ¡°I was ranked number one out of all the humans in Existentia.¡± She laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s quite the counter you think it is. But to answer your question - if you¡¯re not using your natural mana pool, it adds an extra step to the casting, so it slows things down. Having said that, there¡¯s no reason the mana your skill generated can¡¯t be used in normal spells.¡± She hesitated. ¡°Of course, using aspected mana is tricky, especially with something as exotic as precognition. It has a potential to cause unexpected outcomes. The classic example is casting an air spell with earth-attuned mana. The resulting spell has terrible efficiency. Some communities think the efficacy is so bad the spells don¡¯t work, but in practice nine hundred and ninety-nine mana out of every thousand is lost.¡± ¡°And on my spell lines?¡± April frowned: ¡°You¡¯ll need to test, but it¡¯ll probably weaken earth and living wood. I¡¯m confident it¡¯ll make your other two magic types more powerful, though. Especially lightning. Having the electricity you make predicting where it needs to be will be a massive advantage to guiding it and increasing its damage levels.¡± ¡°I can use this for healing and lightning,¡± Tom reasoned. ¡°That almost triples my mana regeneration levels.¡± She laughed: ¡°It really doesn¡¯t. You can¡¯t use skills constantly, but it¡¯ll definitely give you periods of increased regeneration.¡± Tom considered that. Skills, by their nature, were almost always limiting. But if he could get a couple of hours or even a day use out of this new one, it would be more than worthwhile. ¡°True, but I¡¯ll take any advantage I can get. Besides, that convert is useful too, isn¡¯t it? Anything that gets better by putting the smart in front of it will be stronger with precognition aspected mana. I can probably enhance items just as easily as destroy them.¡± ¡°To a limited extent.¡± She agreed. ¡°You¡¯ll need to experiment.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to¡­¡± Tom stopped talking and stared at April in wonder. The implications of what these skills could truly do hit him. It was more than just extra mana. What did precognition mana do to incomplete or poorly crafted spell forms? There was no rulebook for him to consult. But surely some of the mana¡¯s primary purpose would seep through just by using it. Could it help him? What about adding fate to that mix as well? He could almost taste the possibilities. This foray into crafting had been purely to allow April to buy skill stones under the rules, so she could create training programs for useful abilities like Power Strike. He had expected the crafting process to be a waste of his time. Instead, she had given him this: a way to accelerate his development further. It was cheating, pure and unadulterated cheating. ¡°Stop looking at me like that. I know I¡¯m gorgeous and everything, but really.¡± She pretended to be shy, waving her hand in a fan-like motion. ¡°Thank you, April. Thank you so much.¡± ¡°No need to get sappy. You did this yourself. You¡¯ve earned them all through hard work.¡± Tom knew that was an outright lie. Bits of the previous hours were coming back to him. There was the fact that he had only fought three groups of monsters over what must have been more than ten hours. She had removed them to let him focus. Then there was the scarcity of white butterflies that had forced him to push his creation skills, the mana crystals being right there when he was in the zone to drive him a little further¡­ She might claim he had done it himself, but she had been pulling the strings. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t do much.¡± ¡°It was a great effort.¡± She said loudly, interrupting him. She raised a finger threateningly to insist on silence. ¡°Please, don¡¯t say what you¡¯re thinking. My job is to help within the rules. I have an agreement that allows me to teach crafting skills - crafting skills with a defined value that has to be paid back before I can do anything more. That is all that is allowed.¡± Understanding flooded through him. It was one of those don¡¯t ask, don¡¯t tell situations. Usually a bad policy, but sometimes it was the right choice. He started to nod, and then caught himself. Physically moving his head like that would hurt, even talking threatened to make the migraine stronger, but he didn¡¯t let that stop him. ¡°Anyway, thanks for helping me get the crafting skill so quickly.¡± He studied the ceiling. There were just the four skills displayed. ¡°My mind wasn¡¯t fully with it, but what were the trumpets for?¡± April grinned. ¡°This is something I won¡¯t talk about at all. I refuse to answer any questions. But I can show you.¡± The ceiling above his head changed, and a new text appeared on it. Title: Underage Skill Development (I) - Upgradable - Grants 1 free attribute point every eight levels. If he wasn¡¯t bed bound, he would have started jumping up and down in joy. There was so much to unpack in that single title. The number of human children who had developed at least four skills from scratch, for instance. Almost three thousand were a lot more than he expected, but the real nugget of knowledge was the fact that the title even existed. It provided clues to how underage titles worked, too. There would be similar ones for traits and spells ¨C and they were upgradable. Tom was sure the title would upgrade if he got four more tier one skills, and he would get a free point every four levels. The question was this - how many times could he upgrade it? At its current level, it wasn¡¯t worth anything, but he hadn¡¯t even been reincarnated for four months yet. What could he achieve in the next ten years? If he could develop two tier four skills, then that would mean a free attribute point at every level. Four of them would give him two free points per level, and, given your basic class only gave four attribute points, that benefit would be huge. If he could repeat the same for spells and traits¡­ Tom shut his eyes to imagine the base he could build with that. Last time he had got an extra five and a half points per level. If he maximised just what he had discovered so far, he would be able to double that advantage. ¡°I see you like that.¡± The amusement in April¡¯s voice was stark. ¡°Like? Not even close. I love it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to send you back to sleep to recover. I¡¯ll wake you up in two hours.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± he protested, but blackness took him once more. Chapter 43.1 – Dodge Class Tom woke up in his childhood bed. This time, he was alone. It was warm under the covers, but he rolled out. Immediately, he spotted a silver bell. It was on the desk, and looked completely out of place amongst all of his familiar belongings. Cautiously, he approached it and then read the note underneath it. Ring when you¡¯re ready to leave. ¨C April It was brief, but the calligraphy was perfect. If he wasn¡¯t in a trial, he would have been tempted to take it as a keepsake, because, with the penmanship, it was almost a piece of art. Unfortunately, there was no point even trying. There was no way to bring it with him, as the rules of the trial forbade it. He glanced at the note once more and shifted uneasily on-the-spot, courtesy of his full bladder. He needed to go to the toilet, and the instructions on the note implied there was more here than just his room. Unbidden, his eyes were drawn to the door. It was closed, but his gut told him that the imaginary bedroom construction he was in was part of a larger house. Driven by his bladder, he pulled the door open with a familiar, but slight squeak. It revealed the bedroom hallway of his old house, complete with the poor lighting, bookshelves down the side, and peeling wallpaper. Tom¡¯s breath hitched at the memories it provoked. Rather than going straight to the communal bathroom, he peeked into his sister¡¯s room. It was messy as always, light blue bedsheets and Molly, her precious doll, resting as she normally did on the pillow. Tom sniffed and pulled away sharply. He wiped the tears away and leant against the wall. That¡¯s why he was doing this. That¡¯s why he would push through any barriers that he faced. For Em and other kids like her. To give them a chance for a future. He wanted to ring the bell immediately, but his full bladder argued otherwise. The re-creation of his family home was no longer a gift. He didn¡¯t want to explore any further and provoke any more memories. He used the toilet, and, once he had washed his hands, rang the bell. To his disappointment, he appeared in the caf¨¦ and without a spear in his hands. After him seeing his family home after so long, his blood was boiling. He was inspired to get stronger. ¡°Send me to a fight.¡± ¡°No,¡± April said flatly. ¡°Absolutely not. Not today. You might feel good, but you¡¯re not.¡± Tom slid off the seat and did a couple of basic stretches. For someone his size, there was plenty of room. When his head moved too quickly, he could feel the strain. He might try to deny it, but she was right. He was not fixed. ¡°How long do I have left in the trial?¡± ¡°Four hours.¡± ¡°Caf¨¦ rest for half, and then¡­¡± he attempted to propose. ¡°No. I said absolutely not today. Do you understand the meaning of those words?¡± She waved her hand. A plate of food appeared in front of him, together with a glass of Coke and a full pint of beer. ¡°Have some food and a drink instead.¡± Tom raised an eyebrow at the alcohol. ¡°You know I¡¯m four.¡± ¡°Almost five,¡± she quipped. ¡°Besides, I promise I won¡¯t tell anyone.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea. I believe underaged drinking has health implications.¡± That excuse made her double over in laughter. ¡°Come on, Tom, you can find a better reason than that. You¡¯re in a trial under a GOD¡¯s shield. Nothing here will affect you outside the trial. Sit, drink, and enjoy.¡± ¡°No. I¡¯d prefer to wait out the skill exhaustion and do something productive afterwards. If there¡¯s four hours at a minimum, I should be able to get an hour of light duties at the end of it. Even if it¡¯s not a fight against monsters, everything counts.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. April was suddenly holding her own pint of the dark beer: ¡°You¡¯ve had a big success today. You need to take a moment to celebrate.¡± She winked and then skoaled the massive glass of liquid in a single motion. She just tipped it up and drained it. She finished, burped, and wiped her lips triumphally. He was incredibly impressed, and then remembered that she was far more than the flesh and blood that sat with him. She was the trial administrator, and, in here, she was as good as a minor god. She could have teleported the drink away the moment it hit her throat, and he would be none the wiser. He remembered why exactly he was in the competition. The recent memory of Molly lying on the bedsheets steeled his resolve. While drinking would be fun, it was not efficient. ¡°I don¡¯t want to waste any time.¡± He told her firmly, ¡°I have to go train.¡± Her casual manner vanished: ¡°No, Tom. You have a skill exhaustion. The two hours of forced sleep helped, and you might feel better, but basically all that¡¯s done has bandaged up your cuts, metaphorical as they are. If you do too much, they¡¯re all going to start bleeding again. You may feel like your body and soul are willing, but they¡¯re not. The rules I need to follow state that you get returned to Existentia in the same state you entered. I require time to heal the remaining damage. I can do that with you unconscious or with you awake, right here, while drinking beer. You choose which of those options you want. Because, if I see you flex a single skill, I¡¯m going to knock you out cold, and the next thing you¡¯ll experience will be walking away from the trial, wondering where four hours went and lamenting your failure to take the olive branch when it was offered.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t practice my new skills, I promise, but surely simple spear katas have to be safe?¡± ¡°No, you¡¯ve had spear skills in the past. I can see it. Your soul still tries to use them when you¡¯re fighting, even if they always fail. You¡¯re sentenced to bed or drinking rest. I¡¯m not offering anything else.¡± ¡°Are you trying to get me drunk? Because I have to say, the wings don¡¯t do it for me.¡± She snorted: ¡°Because I¡¯d find a baby like you attractive.¡± ¡°I¡¯m older than this body.¡± ¡°What the? That¡¯s disgusting. I wasn¡¯t referring to your physical shell.¡± The world shivered. Everything had changed. April was far more petite than he had expected. The table that had seemed large and intimidating was small, and his hands were heavily tanned and calloused from spear work. Tom stared at his fingers and palms in amazement. For a moment he was himself again. He stretched, appreciating the speed and fluidity that he could move with. He was restored to his old body, and he realised why she had caused the transformation. To something like April, his physical state was irrelevant, and, when she called him a baby, she was referring to his mental age and not the shell he currently possessed. ¡°I take your point.¡± He stopped, surprised by how deep his voice was. Then he felt dizzy. He shut his eyes, and when he opened them, everything had returned to normal. ¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t have done that.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I was being an arse.¡± ¡°Yeah, you were.¡± Tom took a sip of the beer and spat it out. It was disgusting. He wanted to drink a litre of water to clear the taste away. ¡°Oh, lordy,¡± he cursed, channelling Michael. ¡°That¡¯s terrible. Why¡¯s it so bitter?¡± She laughed. ¡°You¡¯re four years old. You have different taste buds.¡± The beer in front of him changed to a light-yellow colour. When he sipped it, the flavour was pleasant. ¡°The adult you would never have touched that.¡± She told him. ¡°It¡¯s a girly drink. A flavoured fruity beer.¡± Tom shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t care. It tastes nice.¡± Five minutes later he realised that there were more changes to his body than just those to do with the taste buds. He had only gone through a third of the glass but was feeling it. The world was swaying, but not from skill exhaustion, and everything April said was funny. Which was a clue to how inebriated he was. She wasn¡¯t that funny. ¡°Drink as fast as you like. I won¡¯t let you get any more drunk than this.¡± Given that he was already slurring words, that wasn¡¯t saying much. They chattered happily, and the time passed with everything blurring together. Across from him, April howled with laughter: ¡°What are you serious? No way, you¡¯re having me on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m dead serious.¡± ¡°You want me to believe that you didn¡¯t realise that I removed the monsters?¡± ¡°Nope, I mean occasionally I thought it was strange I wasn¡¯t fighting more.¡± She was laughing so hard that her wings had flared up: ¡°But you spent forty years in the tutorial. You know firsthand what Existentia is like. You were running all over the place, you must have known.¡± ¡°I was focused.¡± ¡°That goes beyond focused, that¡¯s¡­ you¡¯re crazy. No, you¡¯re tricking me.¡± He laughed with her. It was fun to let loose. The conversation went to his last group. They joked and giggled at Sven¡¯s antics. Not at how that ended, but the good stuff that happened before then. It was almost a shame when the lovely buzz vanished and the drunk messy April, her hair slightly fizzled, was replaced abruptly by her usual pristine appearance. ¡°That was fun.¡± Tom acknowledged. ¡°Goodbye until next week,¡± she said quietly. Then he was outside the trial, and Dimitri was professionally drawing him away. Despite the skill exhaustion, it was by far the best trial session he had experienced so far. Chapter 43.2 – Dodge Class The next day, Tom reluctantly went to his morning lessons. Beatrice was leading it, but only volunteers read from the front. It was green eggs and ham, and Tom made a point of stumbling over every word he could. She almost had steam coming out of her ears, and Tom ignored the angry looks Kang shot him. Even if the other boy was annoyed about him going too far, it had been worth it. Beatrice deserved every second that his frustrating ignorance could throw at her. The session finished, and Dimitri stood up. ¡°Sorry, everyone. I know you were all looking forward to making bead necklaces, but we have a travelling expert in town. I would like to introduce Ailill.¡± ¡°The Wind Wisp,¡± the smiling young man called out. ¡°A travelling expert who has not earned a hero¡¯s name,¡± Dimitri said flatly. Ailill winked: ¡°Remember boys and girls, I¡¯m the Wind Wisp.¡± The man blurred, and suddenly he was on the other side of the classroom. He made an elaborate bow. ¡°Ailill has significant dodge abilities, and kindly volunteered his time to show you dodge basics.¡± ¡°More than significant ones. I¡¯m the Wind Wisp, able to move like the wind and sneak under and through all attacks.¡± ¡°He has some skills, but is nowhere near strong enough to have earned a hero¡¯s name. Please ignore his stupidity.¡± ¡°Give it a break, old man.¡± Dimitri glared at Ailill for just one moment, grinned, and then reacted. They all felt their hearts stop briefly as he did. Then there were twin blurs as they both collided together. Sonic booms were unleashed as body parts went faster than the speed of sound, and, for a second, a blur crossed the front of the classroom. Tom couldn¡¯t see, but he guessed a hundred attacks had been launched. It ended with Dimitri holding two daggers, one against Ailill¡¯s throat and the other placed at his gut. There was a moment of silence, then Dimitri let go. Ailill laughed joyously: ¡°I forget with you teaching here how damn incredible you are in combat. That was amazing. I was sure my new skill would make the difference, but, nope, you¡¯re just too fast.¡± Dimitri ignored him and turned to face them all: ¡°As I¡¯ve said, Ailill is talented, but hasn¡¯t earned his name yet. Give him another decade, and he may end up as famous as Shooting Star or Shadow Blitz, but he is not there yet. As guest lecturer, he¡¯ll be taking the class that Susanti¡­¡± Dimitri¡¯s head flicked toward a girl of about fourteen who stood in the doorway. ¡°Usually runs daily before lunch.¡± With that, their caretaker led them into yet another massive gymnasium. This one, unlike some of the others, had a roof that was only four metres high, as opposed to the ten plus that a lot of the rooms sported. The huge space was split up into hundreds of fighting pits that were only three to five metres wide all of which had combat dummies set up in them. Stolen novel; please report. Ailill pointed at the closest pit. It was basic, little more than a depression on the floor with a single combat dummy set up on the side: ¡°That¡¯s the easiest one. You can¡¯t get hurt in it.¡± Then he traced his hand around the room as the fighting pits and combat dummies got more and more elaborate, until the last couple of dozen had multiple dummies positioned. ¡°To the hardest,¡± he pointed at the one on the other side of the door. ¡°You need to scan to use any of the pits, excluding the first ten that anyone can attempt. Once you¡¯ve beaten a lower ranked pit three times, you move up through the room. There¡¯s a challenge to see how far you get before a full awakening. A prestigious position currently held by the Wind Wisp. Yes, I¡¯m the proud holder of the record, as I¡¯ve managed to reach the eighth last pit while I lived here. But I¡¯m a fair bit better now. If you want, I can even show you.¡± He jumped into the final pit and the five combat dummies immediately spun into action. They weren¡¯t quite a blur of movement, but they each had six arms holding a variety of weapons and they were swung with lethal intent. It felt like every inch of the space was filled with spinning metal. Five minutes later there was a ding, and the combat dummies powered down. Ailill¡¯s clothes were covered with cuts, but he was grinning: ¡°That¡¯s a buzz.¡± He brushed the clothes down, and they mended perfectly. ¡°These are a little baggy for this type of test. If I was in combat gear, I would have passed, but that doesn¡¯t matter. I wanted all of you to see what high-level dodge abilities can do. If you get them, dying becomes almost impossible, and the best time to start learning is as soon as possible. Now, all of you, go and fight. Four to each of the starting pits.¡± They lined up. Tom was behind Bir, with Kang at his back. After some confusion, Ma reluctantly joined their team. She had been driven out of three teams before theirs, including one that definitely had a spot available. Bir looked like she wanted to confront the girl. Discreetly, he stepped on her foot before she could say anything. She pushed him warningly away. With a cheeky grin, he half jumped on her other foot. Outrage flashed over her face and, as expected, she reacted and shoved him. Tom allowed himself to fall and dragged her down with him. She squealed and wrestled him in an attempt to pin him. When Susanti separated them, her glares were directed exclusively at him. Ma was forgotten. That was an outcome he was happy with. Bir remained annoyed until they started the course, and then she didn¡¯t care because she was focused on the effort. She did well, but not fate-level well, and Tom was impressed that she was resisting the temptation and clearly keeping her fate in reserve for magic practice later. Both Ailill and Susanti, but mainly Susanti, were very active in going to the pits to help people. They demonstrated movements that could help you dodge the combat dummies. It was all very simple, but Tom pretended to be amazed and practiced the motions that he was shown. It was an easy decision, because they knew that they were doing. They ran through the course over ten times. The combat dummies were less predictable than the monsters he had been fighting, which boded well for the more advanced versions. But they were designed to be beaten by younger children, so they moved terribly slowly and telegraphed their moves. Tom could have gone through the first run untouched, but he allowed them to knock him over. It was like he was in a pillow fight. Even the sand when he fell onto it was magically cushioned. Their session ended, and they went back to learn some mathematics. Officially, he had cleared the course twice, which was the same as Ma. Bir and Kang had gone better, with four and three clears respectively, which qualified them for the next hardest pit. ¡°We should do that again,¡± Kang suggested. ¡°No! I hate it.¡± Bir declared. ¡°Not good, bad. We not do again.¡± ¡°Ma said she¡¯s going to do it.¡± The other boy told her. ¡°What?¡± Bir¡¯s head snapped around to look at him. ¡°She said what?¡± Kang shrugged. ¡°Ma said she¡¯s going to do it. Get better than all of us. You saw the Wind Wisp. She wants to do that.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t let her beat me. We¡¯re doing the class.¡± The girl declared angrily. ¡°If you want.¡± Kang said, sounding unconcerned. When she looked away a small smile played on the other boy¡¯s lips. Tom had to give him credit. It had been masterfully done. Chapter 44 – Wood Affinity Tom looked down at the food spread out on his plate. The days of bland sausages and bread were over. Little Ta had become more adventurous, as had most of the children in their circle. He smiled at the bright colours and the tastiness they promised. He had a serving of butter chicken on rice, some vegetables in a creamy broth, a small amount of Vietnamese noodles, and a piece of steak with a blue tinge to it. Tom couldn¡¯t help but pray that the colouring meant it was from the same species as the scrumptious steak he had two nights previously. It had been soft and tender, with a taste a little like peppered lamb. In fact, none of the food, strictly speaking, was the same stuff he had grown used to on Earth, but it was close enough to conjure memories of home. Besides, it was delicious in any case. His mouth watered. With all of them settled, he tasted the noodles first. The taste was exquisite. Then he discovered the slight red tinge had been a warning rather than innocuous food colouring. His mouth, especially the roof, was on fire, and his eyes watered. Hastily, he gulped down the milk he had prepared in case this happened, and then held the liquid in his mouth, swishing it around while trying not to make any noise. Half the table noticed his antics, and they were laughing at him, led by Kang. The heat receded somewhat, and understanding that all receptors, or at least the pain receptors, in his mouth had been burned, he kept eating. He alternated between the noodles, butter chicken and the creamy vegies. The steak would come last. ¡°Children,¡± Dimitri¡¯s voice boomed over all of them. ¡°Can I have your attention, please.¡± He was standing on a makeshift stage and, thanks to that fact, was visible from everywhere, though the kids on the other side of the table had to twist awkwardly to see him. ¡°I have two things I want to say to you. First, I would like to extend a big welcome to our next generation of students. Please note that none of the recent starters have arrived from the Early Children Care facility. Instead, they¡¯ve come straight from family environment. They will be significantly unsettled. Please, do your best to look after them.¡± Tom glanced at the four children who had joined them. They had hit the age deadline of four and a half, and as a result had been forced into the orphanage. Two had been here for a week, but a pair of twins were here for their first meal. The twins looked terrified and so, so young. Tom knew that was deceptive, because there was only six months¡¯ difference between them but the contrast between the way they carried themselves versus how Bir did was stark. She was full of confidence, while they were anything but. It made a lot of sense, if you considered their respective history. Bir had been an orphan for as long as little Tar could remember. The three of them, including Kang, had come from the Early Children Care facility. They hadn¡¯t had parents, and so there had been no shock to the system when transitioning here. Those who came from a nuclear family arrangement always suffered more. Kang caught where he was looking and subtly shook his head. Internally, Tom sighed. While he would like to look after them and take them under his wing, so to speak, the other boy was right. It was not his job, and doing so would draw too much attention to him. ¡°And the second thing,¡± Dimitri said loudly. ¡°Is much more exciting. As of yesterday, the environmental engineers successfully diverted the Mineral Spring River into the underground. I know none of you understand what that means. But this is one of humanity¡¯s big environmental engineering projects. The mineral spring river runs into the crystal flood plains, which is dominated by crystal slime. They are up to rank eighty invasive species.¡± Tom noticed the stress on the word invasive species and nodded grimly. That term meant it was a monster that was breeding in the area independently, rather than one that the GODs were continually creating. It meant that humanity could eliminate them and get ranking points by generating permanent change. ¡°The crystal slimes are almost impossible to destroy naturally and are considered to be beasts by the system, so they don¡¯t generate loot portals. Their carcasses also contain no useful resources. They are valueless for farming. Our biologists determined that they rely on the minerals brought by the river to sustain their existence. By diverting the river, we can take advantage of their eight individual sex cycles.¡± Tom tuned the other man out. All that mattered was the impact the investment had on the ladder. Dimitri was talking about the boon this would bring the nearby native species, but none of that was important. Humanity couldn¡¯t afford to care if this effort would open up the area for farming by another species. The only thing that counted was the competition, because that governed where and in what state they would end up when the rest of humanity was transitioned here. While Dimitri blabbered, Tom¡¯s eyes scanned over the nearby tables absently. Ma had arrived late as usual, and was sitting next to a couple of seven-year-olds. Tom frowned when he saw that. He recognised them, and he didn¡¯t like them. They were known bullies who made life difficult for those weaker than them, but their behaviour never rose to the point where volunteers had to be involved. They would probably end up as good adults, but for now they were little shits. ¡°Is it too hot?¡± Joseph, the boy sitting next to Ma asked. ¡°Try it.¡± He was Tom realised, referring to a plate heaped full of the Vietnamese noodles. The answer to Joseph¡¯s question was a flat yes. It was way too spicy for them. He wanted to say something and, when he glanced at Kang, the other boy was watching Dimitri, but Tom knew the looks he would get if he interceded and played policeman amongst the younger kids. For a good reason, too. Given the need to hide his reincarnation status, that sort of action would draw unwanted attention. Ma scowled: ¡°Don¡¯t wanna.¡± ¡°Try it,¡± Joseph commanded. Grumbling, Ma scooped up a large fork of the slightly red tinted noodles. Tom prepared himself to look away. He was not interested in watching a little girl get reduced to tears, and he was worried about the fury that sometimes overtook him. There was a flash of fate from her. He was intrigued, and he wasn¡¯t going to miss this. Her pool had just dropped by fifty percent and he had to know the why. She had never demonstrated any fate ability before, but if she was able to use it even half as well as Bir could, she was worth paying attention too. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Isn¡¯t that great.¡± Dimitri shouted. There was applause around the room, but all of it from the older kids. No one under around nine seemed to care. Tom had been watching the boys accosting Ma. When Dimitri had yelled, their eyes had briefly turned toward the noise, and Ma, during that momentary window deliberately tipped the mound of noodles off her fork with gravity, making it fall smoothly onto her lap. Her legs would be covered with it, but with so many clean loops available for her to fix the problem, that hardly mattered. She finished the motion of bringing it to her lips and away. The prongs looked like it had been in someone¡¯s mouth, and were suspiciously clean. She put the piece of cutlery down and pretended to chew. Joseph and his friend were definitely fooled by the act. The two bullies were studying at her intently. She smiled. ¡°Not hot. Yummy.¡± She picked up the fork and went to grab another mouthful. Joseph pulled the plate away hurriedly. ¡°Get your own.¡± She nodded pleasantly and got up to leave. Tom was watching for the noodles that had fallen earlier to be revealed, but they were invisible as she stood. He wasn¡¯t sure how fate had managed that outcome, but it had. Initially, she angled for the buffet table and the noodle dish she had pretended to love. The moment she got people between her and the boys, she changed direction and made a beeline for the gymnasium door, pausing only to grab some bread and a sausage as she passed them. The two boys didn¡¯t notice her actions and started hurriedly eating the noodles. They had turned it into a race to see who could eat them the fastest. One of the forkfuls that Joseph grabbed had a full red chilli in it. That was an experience that Tom hadn¡¯t been brave enough to try for himself. Tom winced anticipating what was coming next. Their faces went red. Joseph clutched at his throat like it was burning him. He spluttered and spat out a mouthful of noodles and desperately tried to eat something else to remove the pain. It didn¡¯t work. His movements became more and more frantic. The entire table of seven-year-olds were laughing at the two boys. He saw Joseph look for Ma briefly before the agony of the situation drove any thoughts of the younger girl from their minds. A volunteer rushed some milk towards them. Smiling to himself, Tom ignored them and finished his steak. It tasted even better than it looked. Once he swallowed the last delectable morsel, he allowed Bir and Kang to drag him to the dodge training room. The three of them set about defeating the pits. They had moved up a couple of levels, and the battles were becoming more realistic. Rather than fighting in an ensorcelled place where everything felt like it was made of air cushions, the blows now smarted when they landed. Strikes that should have left week-long bruises still only caused a brief reddening of the skin, but at least there were some consequences for failure. Tom continued through each day. His precognition mana was selectively invested into his various spells. He had discovered that the sweet spot for using it was when he was getting close to creating a spell or merge. If he used it too early, then half the time it would distort the spell form into some bastardised type of healing. That kind often worked, but did nothing to progress his aim of being rewarded a defined set of spells to feed into Touch Heal. However, if he took advantage of it when he was near an upgrade, it definitely speed the progress up. Another half a week passed, and he was once more in the trial, specifically in the scenario April had created to promote his wood-growing skills. Given the unexpected value of the precognition training, Tom wasn¡¯t about to complain about the process. He suspected the skills he gained would be useful beyond what he expected. The method she used was simple enough. He was thrown into a small room, no bigger than a prisoner¡¯s cell, and then from the floor wood would start to grow. The growth would be mostly chaotic, with a slight tendency to expand toward him. The task was to last as long as possible without being trapped. The issue was that he had no idea what he was doing. He could feel the energy that made the wood grow chaotically. It pumped through the plants so visibly that anyone with a small amount of mana sensitivity would have been able to track the pulse. All the growing wood was packed with it, but the problem was, he couldn¡¯t do anything with that knowledge. The only technique which was even moderately successful consisted of physically pushing on the sprouting branches to redirect them. If he applied pressure at the right time, he could force it to grow away with him, but it was not the method that April wanted him to learn. While it made a difference, the difference was not large. Within two minutes, the out-of-control growth stripped his ability to stand and walk. A minute later, his legs became completely trapped, and, forty seconds after that, the room dissolved and he found himself in the caf¨¦. He sat there panting, exhausted by the amount of effort it took to hold the wood away from him. ¡°That¡¯s both boring and terrifying,¡± Tom informed the attentive April. ¡°Nothing much happens, and then you¡¯re stuck with no way to get out, and then, when your arms are about to give out, the session ends.¡± He sighed dramatically. ¡°It¡¯s stressful.¡± April gave a tentative smile: ¡°Well, drink your coffee. It¡¯ll make you feel better.¡± ¡°Yes, I think I need to.¡± He stopped suddenly and studied her. She had a smug look on her face. ¡°Okay, I recognise that expression. Spill the goss. What am I missing?¡± She looked back at him innocently: ¡°You¡¯re not missing anything.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± he ground the word out into the stretching silence. ¡°But, but have you thought about inhibiting growth? Like, you obviously can¡¯t direct the flood of energy, but would it make sense to try the opposite.¡± Tom went to respond with a cutting remark, then stopped himself from saying something stupid as he considered what exactly she was suggesting. If he inhibited the growth, the branch would grow unevenly. The rest would expand, but the spot he was inhibiting wouldn¡¯t. It would bend as a result. If he did it carefully, it would definitely allow him to shape where the plants went. ¡°Are you sure? Will that really work?¡± April rolled her eyes: ¡°No, I¡¯m making a random suggestion. I have no idea whether it¡¯s possible.¡± ¡°Is there a better way to do things?¡± She stared him down. ¡°I guess not.¡± Tentatively, he took the first sip of the coffee, and it had cooled just enough to allow it. Then he looked up at her. He had to do something to distract her, as she looked a little pissed. ¡°Have you heard that they¡¯ve kicked off the first of their environmental shaping projects?¡± ¡°Oh, really? What are they trying?¡± He tried to remember what Dimitri had told him. It was clear from the way April was looking at him that he had mangled the description, but she listened attentively. ¡°We won¡¯t know for a couple of weeks whether it will work.¡± He finished with a shrug even as he had his last sip of coffee. ¡°Well, I hope that¡¯s successful. It sounded very involved. Now, are you refreshed enough to start another session?¡± she teased. He nodded. ¡°Crafting or fighting first?¡± ¡°Fighting.¡± ¡°What a surprise. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll give you a fun challenge.¡± The world blurred, and he found himself in the meadow with three octolegs arrayed against him. Oh shit, he thought. This is not good at all. ¡°Three!¡± he yelled out. ¡°April, what did I say? If it was anything bad, I take it back. I didn¡¯t mean it.¡± There was no response. ¡°April, you promised fun. Octolegs are never fun, and three is¡­¡± Tom broke off with a curse as they closed with him, and he desperately blocked a probing tentacle with the tip of his spear. Grimly, he went on the defensive, his mind already preparing for an hour-long battle. He could imagine April laughing. Then he realised he didn¡¯t have to imagine, because she was present physically and laughing loud enough to be a crowd by herself. He glanced in her direction and then cursed as a tentacled leg almost connected. She had arranged a picnic set and was watching. From experience, drawing the monsters over to her wouldn¡¯t help. She would always be thirty metres away, and if he did something like that or got very unlucky, she would start critiquing his performance. Not constructively, either. Chapter 45 – Purge Foreign Substance

Exhausted and pushed to the limits, Tom finally killed the third octoleg. He stood there for a moment, swaying, trying to recover. He had been driven to the breaking point during that fight, and he could feel the edge of skill exhaustion creeping up on him. ¡°What spells did I get?¡± he asked April, who had watched the entire thing, but had thankfully done it without a running commentary. She half flew over to him, which took two long steps and four beats of her wings - a combination that let her cover the thirty metres that had separated them with impressive speed. She was also infinitely graceful while doing it. ¡°There weren¡¯t any surprises, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. You just got given the two spells you were casting manually.¡± With a wave of her hand, the wounds covering him vanished. She frowned: ¡°Unfortunately, there¡¯s not much I can do about the skill exhaustion.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll go away by itself. I didn¡¯t push it that hard.¡± She didn¡¯t look like she believed him at all. ¡°I needed the mana to survive.¡± ¡°I know. I¡¯m just reconsidering my decisions. Sending three against you was more than a little mean.¡± ¡°I won. I¡¯ve gained two spells, and it wasn¡¯t like I was merging anything, so there isn¡¯t even lost opportunity cost to worry about. If anything, the ridiculous level of challenge helped. Can you show me what I got?¡± He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that a white board filled with text had appeared in front of him. Spell: Create Plasma ¨C Tier 0 This spell creates emergency plasma to increase blood pressure and offset blood loss during battle. Spell: Marrow Overdrive ¨C Tier 0 This spell increases the regeneration of red blood cells. At current levels, a little over three days¡¯ worth of natural red blood cell regeneration is created in a quarter of an hour. ¡°Exactly what I expected.¡± He said. The result was nothing special. Both spells had been on the cusp of being cast perfectly for weeks. She smiled and shrugged: ¡°Them coming through so early in the contest was timely. They kept you up during your fight, and if you had to rely on manual casts, I¡¯m not sure you would have survived. I think I¡¯ve overestimated your capability.¡± ¡°So you¡¯ll go easy from now on?¡± She laughed: ¡°No. Where¡¯s the fun in that for me?¡± Tom knew she didn¡¯t mean it. All these near-battles, both the ones he lost and those he won, were tailored to drive him forward as much as possible, and he wouldn¡¯t have it any other way. ¡°Rest time,¡± she declared. He blinked involuntarily, and then was seated in the caf¨¦. ¡°Sit back and relax, Tom. You¡¯ve got all the time you need. If you drink that slowly, by the time we finish, your skill exhaustion should have passed.¡± Without argument, he accepted her at her word, and had a leisurely coffee while chatting about not much. The moment he had his last sip he was thankfully sent back to training. The spear work went as expected, and in the wood-shaping session Tom managed to bend some branches away from him. It was still a slog, and it barely extended his time, but he was finally making some progress. The standard trial pattern continued. Four wood escapes, then combat with every third fight, finishing with a caf¨¦ session, and every sixth having the spectral figure run through the spear katas to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing. Before he knew it, he was back in the shed that housed the trial, being guided away to make room for the next child. At dinner, there was a hum of excitement in the air, just like for the last few days. The whole place had an almost festive atmosphere to it. The older children in particular were excited about the environmental engineering. All the snatches of conversation that he overheard were about this topic. Over seventy percent said that it was going to be successful beyond anyone¡¯s wildest imaginations. The rest were more pessimistic, with some openly wondering if it would even pay for the time and effort people had invested into it. None suggested that it might be a flop, and Tom considered that to be a symptom of their youth. The chance of such an ambitious plan working was low. It was unlikely that an invasive species that had been as successful as the crystal slimes would have a single point of failure, no matter what human scientists thought. Another trial cycle passed. He had mastered inhibiting the growth in up to a fist sized section of the wood, but had made little progress when it came to using that control to beat the challenge. Controlling the direction of expansion through negative inputs for more than one branch at a time remained beyond his grasp. Given the number of growths that he had to contend with, that was not enough. By the two-minute point, there were over two dozen independent branches seeking to corral him. Unsurprisingly, he had barely managed to extend the time he survived for. It was frustrating to remember, but, as he sat in his isolation room, Tom forced the negative emotions aside. Today was a milestone day. He was as prepared as he could be. Three different syringes were laid out in front of him to provide fuel for his spell and the potential for real-life consequences. If he failed, he was going to suffer serious problems. It wasn¡¯t written anywhere, but he was pretty confident that having tangible stakes boosted the chance of success when pursuing perfection. For this attempt, he had measured his body weight and checked his vitality and the interactions between the three poisons. An exact amount of each substance was in the syringes. The selected doses wouldn¡¯t kill him, but even with the use of the healing crystal they were more than problematic. More troubling, at least on a theoretical level, was that he had deliberately not tested whether Purge Foreign Substances even worked on them. Logically it would, but he didn¡¯t know and if his spell failed, he would end up with bodily fluids forcing their way out of both ends while experiencing the torture of having the periosteum, the outer layer of every bone, being slowly dissolved all the while suffering from a migraine that would stop him from concentrating for days. Of course, that was if he failed out right. If he had a partial success, he might only end up suffering one or two of those effects. He wondered if he had the choice which one he would choose. Probably the bone, because it would let him pretend everything was okay even when it wasn¡¯t. No, he forced his attention back to the present. He didn¡¯t want to go down that path. There was no room for failure. For about the fiftieth time, he reviewed the wire frame diagram of Purge Foreign Substances. He knew it intimately and like the twenty checks beforehand he learned nothing new from it. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Tom understood he was procrastinating. It was not something he usually did. He had been reincarnated for over five months, and this was the culmination of a significant chunk of that time. The pressure on him felt real. This merge brought together fourteen base spells and seven prior merges, and this final one was the hardest he had done yet. Six different sub-spells had to combine perfectly for it to work. He glanced askance at the syringes. ¡°You¡¯ve got this Tom,¡± he reminded himself, but the words felt hollow. The consequences of the purge failing would not be pleasant. But there was no good way to get around it. There had to be a real danger for him to maximise his chances of success. The combination of the three injections from the descriptions of how they worked would push all the components of the spell he was trying to form. Everything would be critical in the healing process. First, the identification and containment steps, followed by using that knowledge to choose whether to push the substances from the body or destroy them directly. Theoretically, it was one of each type with the third, the one that would dissolve bones, needing parts pushed out and other bits destroyed. Perfection was expected. Tom stopped flipping through the pages, annoyed at himself. He wasn¡¯t sure why he was so nervous. He had constructed the spell almost perfectly multiple times already, and this was just the final push. An attempt to add another sideways evolution to the two that he had already gained in this section of the Touch Heal development pathway. Mentally, he went through the checklist. His precognition mana storage and creation skill had been running for the last thirty minutes. He was topped up with the maximum available mana of thirty-two, and his own paltry pool of eight was also full. It would be more than enough. The syringes were ready. There was over an hour to go until the isolation room opened so he could safely use the ritual afterward. Fate? He wanted this attempt to be perfect and drive a sideways evolution that would improve either the efficiency or effectiveness of his final spell. Without hesitation, he spent his entire fate pool on the image. He was as ready as he would ever get. Mentally, he constructed the spell. Overlaying all six of the inputs on top of each other. He could see almost a quarter of Touch Heal in the structure that it produced. Then, with quick deliberate movement like he would use in a fight he injected himself with all three waiting syringes. Tom quickly flicked through the locations where the spells overlapped each other and ensured that where required they bonded and in the other spots the original lines remained as discreet entities. The spell form, as best he could tell was perfect, and he was on the clock. He could already feel his gut clenching as tiny amounts of the substance that would cause terrible gastrointestinal flux entered the bloodstream. He was out of time. He had to go faster. Despite the pressure of his thoughts, he remained methodical in his approach. The spell, after all, had to be done perfectly. First, his own mana filled the spell form, then precognition mana was pushed in until his body ran dry. Infused with mana the spell form transitioned from a theoretical outline to reality. Then he directed it down into the injection site. The identification component changed the feel of the spell significantly. It was no longer a dumb process. The spell communicated information to him and based on that he could direct how the infused energy was used. The directions he could drive the enchantment were nowhere near as varied or as precise as Healing Tranquillity had enabled in his past life. This spell also lacked that incredibly valuable time dilation that he had grown used to but despite the flaws Tom was impressed by the amount of control the spell gave. It also returned the results of its identification efforts instantly. It was like acquiring a spell or skill from the system. Between one instant and the next, he was aware of the nature of the three substances on an intimate level. He knew where they were, what they would do to him, how could they spread, and which ones he could destroy directly versus which more troublesome setups would need to be physically expelled. He knew all of it. Two of the three venoms remained localised at the injection site, but the nausea one was spreading aggressively, and Tom knew he had been too slow in casting the cleaning spell. He could still purge it, but it would be a case of a whack-a-mole effort, as it spread through his body and could only be tracked down once it started impacting his systems. His mind, aided by the spell, concentrated on the two separate activities. As physical skin and muscle barriers grew, they were only the size of a grape, but they quarantined the area successfully. At the identification¡¯s continued prompting, he began triage and healing. First, he reinforced them to stop the specific frequency of the bone energy, and then began the process of squeezing the contained area and pushing the foreign substances back toward the surface. His arm warmed slightly, there was a hiss, and some purple liquid leaked out of it. Simultaneously, he was using the spell to track down the nausea venom to tear its energy structure to pieces. Tom imprinted the instructions and relinquished control, knowing that his slow brain could only get in the way now. His immediate future was at the mercy of his manually constructed spell form. His gut clenched in pain, and he wanted to vomit. The purple sludge was now running down his arm as though he was bleeding purple instead of red. Another cramp doubled him over. Long seconds passed as he wondered whether his attempt was going to be successful. The purple stopped flowing, and the need to violently expel everything he had eaten last night was reduced. There was a ding. The urge to hurl faded to nothing. Tom sagged in relief. The nausea was gone, his head was clear, and his body pain-free. He wiped the sweat off his brow. That had been intense. Because it was the prudent thing to do, he recreated the spell form of Purge Foreign Substance. It snapped straight into place as a system spell. ¡°Yes!¡± He exclaimed, then stopped himself. It was too early to celebrate. He had achieved perfection, but that was always going to happen. The question was, had he been awarded a bonus? All that mattered was whether he had, or had not, received one of the precious sideway evolutions. He glanced longingly at the status check ritual, then used the one point of precognition mana that his skill had generated, and pushed the resultant spell into his arm, focusing on the identification component of it. A pulse of energy went through him, and he felt the connection to the spell. It reported that it could identify nothing out of place in his body. He had been cleansed. There was one last thing to confirm. He went over to the ritual status screen, and the details of the new spell appeared. Spell: Purge Foreign Substances ¨C Tier 0 This spell can identify, isolate, destroy or push from the body most foreign substances. Sideways Evolution 1: Constructed internal barriers can block foreign substances a full tier higher than what proficiency and energy invested in the spell, would usually allow. Sideways Evolution 2: The mana cost to destroy foreign substances in the body is reduced by 25% Sideways Evolution 3. For 16 mana this spell can be applied to increase resistance to all purgeable foreign substances and energies by 32% for half an hour. ¡°Hell yeah!¡± he yelled with a fist pump. ¡°I did it! Yes, it worked!¡± His eyes were focused on that third evolution. The others he had known about, but getting a buff out of the sideways evolution was a massive win. He understood very well that it was not very useful for the time being, given his limited mana. But when he reached rank fifty and had effectively unlimited mana, then boosting his resistance against things his tier or one above by a third, which was what the bonus actually offered, was useful. No, better than useful. It was a massive win. His throat caught. Between the titles he was going to get and the stacking of sideways evolutions, he trembled in excitement when he thought about the power that would bring. The dragon had been terrifyingly strong. Tom had imagined fighting it in his mind, but that was all it had ever been, a figment of his imagination, an unachievable juvenile fantasy. But if he upgraded those titles enough, what then? If he kept gaining skills and sideway evolutions, and if the help that Corrine implied was there for him... What could stop him? He looked up at the ceiling with the image of what he could become clear in his mind. It was humbling. It would take hard work, but if it let him save his loved ones, and to save the loved ones of others, then¡­ ¡°Thank you, DEUS,¡± he stopped speaking momentarily because his throat choked up. ¡°Thank you for this opportunity. I¡¯m not one to pray, but I am grateful to you for gifting me this chance ¡­¡± he paused, for a moment, thinking about his family. Thinking about sister who was too young and innocent to be torn and thrown into a war zone. ¡°I promise you that I won¡¯t let you down. I¡¯ll use this chance¡­¡± he stopped again unable to talk. Tears were leaking out of his eyes and trickling down his cheek. This was bigger than just saving his sister and family. It was about good people who had died. Sven, Michael, Jingyi, and the sacrifices they had come to Existentia to make, the sacrifices they had made without the benefit of a do-over. Apart from Michael. He had died twice for his ideals. In his current emotional state, Tom did not want to think about him. If he did that, it would threaten a breakdown. His journey was about all of them. They all had their own motivators, their own Emilys, their own causes worth dying for, and it was his job to honour them. He had to succeed for them, too. ¡°I¡¯ll make the most of this.¡± He swore out loud. ¡°I¡¯ll find a way to win this competition. I¡¯ll do it in your name, proudly. Thank you for giving me this grace.¡± He wiped away the tears, nodded firmly, and then, both happy and sad, but mainly feeling inspired, he returned the syringes to the cupboards, and then went over to check the folder that contained the current ladder. That would remind him of exactly what he needed to achieve. He would do it. He would get all the titles, dozens, maybe hundreds of sideway evolutions, and, in doing so, build the greatest base ever. The dragon, that creature was evil on a level Tom couldn¡¯t comprehend. It would die along with all of its kind. And then, if he had done enough, if he was strong enough, he would go after the GOD and GODs that had chosen to champion such evil. The last bit might be a dream and a sentiment that he could never say out loud, but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t hold the idea close to his heart, if fate was willing. At the very least, he could try. Chapter 46.1 – Meeting the Headmaster Tom waited impatiently outside the closed doors. He was walking nervously and making a game of not stepping on the gaps between the large marble pavers. From everything he had overheard over the last few days, this was to be a standard interview. Yes, it was twice as long as what the older kids got, because it was his first one with Dimitri. But this process was normal and had been taking place for decades. It was a routine meet-and-chat-with-the-headmaster kind of thing, but Tom was sure it would be more than that. He couldn¡¯t wait to get answers from him. The assistant for the day watched him with a bored expression. She had fetched him ten minutes ago and hadn¡¯t said a word. Tom didn¡¯t mind - he didn¡¯t want to associate with her anyway. She was a failed competitor, one who had progressed so little that after fifty years she had deep wrinkles on her face and looked over sixty. That meant that age had barely slowed down for her. It was all speculation on Tom¡¯s part, because she hadn¡¯t volunteered anything. However, the lines etched on her face told their own story. She must have lost her nerves badly to have gained so little vitality over the years. Crafting gave experience, but less so than killing. However, even with that constraint she probably should have been able to delay aging more. She was literally the oldest looking person he had seen in Existentia. He wondered what her history was. Had she just lost her nerve, or was the story darker? Had she put everything into magic, fate and agility to aid her crafting because she had never intended to survive to the end of the competition? Her fate levels suggested that that guess might not be too far off, and, like with most adults, her pool was not empty. It was a raging ocean. Click. Tom looked up, and the door to the study opened. Bir came out, Dimitri next to her. His friend seemed to be happy. The old lady moved with surprising grace to grab Bir¡¯s attention while waving him toward the office with her other hand. For this component of the role, she was very competent. He did as instructed. The room he entered was bare with the exception of two basic, but comfortable-looking chairs. There were sealed cupboards on all sides, while the floors and roof were made of large white tiles, all of which were inter-laid with dense glyphs and runes. The runes running down the walls and over the cupboard doors were not quite as dense, but were still filled with power. As he entered, he could feel the latent energy held in those rituals. They glowed in his vision, already active. He didn¡¯t have the knowledge to understand what had been engraved, but it was pretty easy to guess. This was a secure vault if he had ever seen one. Dimitri closed the first set of doors, following him. Magic flared, and the door seams vanished. Then he stepped into the room and closed the second set. They, too, flashed in the same manner. Then Dimitri stood there with a hand on the door; magic flooded out of him and entered the runic structure. All around him, extra glyphs lit up as the magic spread and triggered them. With a sigh, Dimitri lowered his hand: ¡°The room¡¯s secure. Let¡¯s get started, Tom. Please, sit.¡± He gestured at the chair that was facing away from the door. ¡°Unfortunately, we only have thirty minutes. You might think that¡¯s heaps, but you¡¯d be mistaken. I wish we had full hour, but appearances need to be maintained, so there¡¯s no time for pleasantries.¡± He sat on his own chair. ¡°Getting straight to business, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware that your year¡¯s naming ceremony is in a month. It¡¯s a source of drama for most, but, luckily, not for you. You¡¯re to select the name Tom Smith.¡± Tom had been pondering what to call himself, and he had noted that Corrine had chosen the same one she had in her first life, but he had decided that was not something he could do. He felt he was too famous for that. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°No. That¡¯s not a good idea.¡± Dimitri raised an eyebrow at that statement: ¡°Why? Is it because you want to keep your full name, or because you were a part of the heroes?¡± ¡°The latter, of course. I¡¯m not stupid enough to tag myself with my original name. Doing so would cause issues.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care. You¡¯re to take the name Tom Smith. The instructions came from priests.¡± ¡°So?¡± Dimitri bit his lip: ¡°How do I explain this? You lack required background, so, basically, priest classes don¡¯t do much. They represent massive investment and only give back minimal guidance. But small, perfect instructions beat hundreds of wishy-washy orders. We actively encourage people to take the priest path. Why, you might ask? Well, it¡¯s because, when they speak, they speak with the DEUS¡¯s voice. When they speak, we listen and obey. For reincarnators, instructions are clear. You are to take your previous first name, as doing so provides protection.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to, Tom.¡± Dimitri sighed. ¡°These are GOD things.¡± ¡°Why Smith?¡± ¡°Because true orphans choosing a unique second name would give away reincarnators. True orphans take the name Smith, those with not parents choose their Dad¡¯s or Mum¡¯s. Your selecting Tom from the list of ten thousand names is perfectly natural. Listen, this is a point of contention with nearly every one of us who is reincarnated. Given that you were part of the heroes, it probably feels more problematic for you, but we honestly don¡¯t have time to debate further. The priests have made a proclamation, so just deal with it.¡± This was not something to argue about. He had seen the cost of the priest option. It was a lot, and it was paid because of the connection it gave to DEUS. If they said something was required, who was he to dispute it ¨C he, who had been given this chance by DEUS ¨C or to argue back? ¡°Understood. What¡¯s next?¡± Dimitri smiled. It was good to see, as it was something Tom noted that he rarely did. ¡°Now, I¡¯ve already spoken to Kang and Corrine, so I know what you¡¯ve covered with them, and there is no point discussing that stuff. I guess you¡¯ve got questions, but let me finish getting the important things out of the way first. The second critical thing for us to cover is emergency measures.¡± Tom stared blankly at Dimitri for a moment and was rewarded with another amused smile. Apparently, the other man enjoyed teasing the newly reincarnated one a little bit. ¡°It¡¯s exactly what you¡¯re thinking. You need a way to contact me safely just in case.¡± ¡°Why would I need that?¡± Dimitri shrugged: ¡°It¡¯s protocol, and it¡¯s proven important in the past. A decade ago, when I first started in this role, someone thought they were being watched. She was right, and we amped security for her up until we cleared the watchers away. If we hadn¡¯t acted, she almost certainly would have been killed. Another told a friend about being reincarnated and I had to step in to stop them from revealing that information accidentally.¡± ¡°What an idiot. I like Bir, but she is a kid. I¡¯d never reveal the secret of my past life to her.¡± ¡°Not an idiot, just human,¡± Dimitri corrected. ¡°The isolation and the weight of the secret get harder to keep in as you get older. The rule is not to never tell someone. It¡¯s don¡¯t tell them until your title tells you that you can.¡± ¡°What? Really? The title does that?¡± Dimitri nodded: ¡°Yes. Once you build up sufficient trust with someone and the other person is mature enough, you can let them in on the secret. Now, what¡¯s a suitable emergency signal for you?¡± the caretaker pondered the question for a moment. ¡°For you, I think, a tug on my ear.¡± Tom couldn¡¯t imagine anything more bizarre than going up to the big man and trying to jump up to grab the ear. ¡°Are you serious?¡± ¡°Deadly so,¡± Dimitri responded with a stern expression. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to change how you interact with me, but it¡¯s the best option I have available. Every one of you has a different method to draw attention, and this one won¡¯t be too difficult to set up. Lots of children are affectionate with me. You¡¯ll need to do the same, and then you¡¯ll have lots of opportunities to send the signal.¡± ¡°Despite this ridiculous body, I¡¯m a grown man. Can¡¯t I write a note or something?¡± ¡°Definitely not. Our enemies are not stupid. Most of the time we keep the orphanage clear of interlopers, but the wider town kills or chases away a spy once a month. And, before you ask, yes those spies are only here to kill the reincarnated ones. We¡¯d have to be na?ve to think that none of them get a look into here. Some even might get through the wards. That¡¯s rare, but it happens. The real issue is that, if you need to contact me, it¡¯ll probably be because our security is breached or you¡¯re in personal trouble. The emergency signal has to be natural, and not alarm any operative that is paying extra attention to you or me. The strategy is to protect you.¡± ¡°But expecting me to hug you is weird. ¡­¡± Dimitri massaged the bridge of his nose: ¡°Tom, you¡¯re a grown man. Deal with it. I¡¯ve been here a decade. This will work.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°It¡¯ll work because I know how little kids are supposed to behave. You¡¯re hard-wired to attach yourself to adults.¡± ¡°No, why are you fulfilling this role? Why are you in the orphanage?¡± Chapter 46.2 – Meeting the Headmaster Dimitri sighed. ¡°I get where you¡¯re coming from. I really do, but your suspicions are misplaced. I¡¯m here because Eden asked me to. That¡¯s it. Being here is the best use of my talents. If it¡¯s a choice between me being in the field or her, I¡¯m always choosing her.¡± ¡°But I¡¯ve watched you and seen you move. You¡¯re remarkably strong.¡± ¡°I¡¯m powerful, but she¡¯s better.¡± ¡°I get that, but why have someone as powerful as you here?¡± ¡°The speech you were given at the introduction ceremony was true. What you¡¯ve read in the isolation room is accurate. Assassins are still coming for those who have been reincarnated, and we need permanent presence here. People who can deal with them when that happens.¡± ¡°You¡¯re here as a deterrent?¡± ¡°No, the label deterrent is wrong. It suggests my existence stops them from coming. Believe me, it doesn¡¯t. Terror races don¡¯t work like that, especially when they¡¯re on a divine mission. No, my role is more basic. I¡¯m here for pest control. So, tug on my ear if you require help. Do it multiple times if it¡¯s super urgent. When we leave here, you need to set up the connection to me. Stage a fight or jump off the blanket fort when I¡¯m around. Do something where I¡¯ll have to comfort you. If that sounds too uncomfortable, hurt yourself and retreat to your pseudo system room, let the you without adult memories run the show for that bit. Set up the routine as soon as possible, so if you ever need to contact me it¡¯ll look natural¡±. ¡°And there¡¯s really nothing else I can do. Stick out my tongue or something?¡± Dimitri shook his head: ¡°I have one that taps my knee, another hugs my leg and doesn¡¯t let go. Then a girl who will pick her goddamn nose in front of me and wipe it on her tunic, then another that kisses my left cheek instead of right one, a boy who will throw a temper tantrum and injure someone, and, finally, someone who¡¯s willing to break their left hand.¡± ¡°I could do that one.¡± Dimitri stared him straight in the eye, a small smile on his lips: ¡°Two people injuring their hands on the same day might be a little suspicious.¡± ¡°I could break my foot instead, or do so to my nose by running into something.¡± Dimitri shook his head: ¡°You don¡¯t need to make this so hard. While you¡¯re under nine, it¡¯s something like the ear. Then you mature and you get different methods. I don¡¯t see why the ear is problem. Your body is four years old. Hugging adults is normal, and it actually improves your disguise.¡± ¡°Fine. Consider it done. I¡¯ll do it.¡± Tom said, deciding it was not worth arguing over it anymore. ¡°Good. And, Tom¡­ this is for emergencies only. This is not I need a specific poison or better dagger type of contact. Those types of requests wait until these briefing sessions. The ear is for life-and-death issues only.¡± ¡°I got it. Is there anything else, or can I ask questions?¡± ¡°Ask away.¡± ¡°How do resources work?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to get you whatever specific thing you need. But I probably can¡¯t source a trait like I did for Corrine. I just don¡¯t have the personal credits anymore.¡± ¡°Anything I want?¡± Dimitri nodded. ¡°Is there a budget?¡± ¡°No. Not as such. I have resources I draw on to help. They¡¯re limited, but if your need¡¯s genuine, I can lean on adventurers as they come through. Nothing¡¯s guaranteed, of course, and the title will stop me from using the fact you¡¯re a hero of humanity to get you extra, so you¡¯ll be getting standard treatment no matter how much I personally might want to aid you. I can¡¯t give you any more than I do anyone else.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Tom noted the other man¡¯s tone. For a moment, he had sounded as close to a hero worship as Corrine had gotten when she had found out his status. ¡°And what you will receive won¡¯t be for free and handed to you under the table. That¡¯s too suspicious. Everything gets funnelled through the end-of-year tournaments.¡± ¡°Do I have to win?¡± Dimitri laughed. ¡°I¡¯m sure Corrine covered this with you. No, you don¡¯t have to win, and we usually don¡¯t actually want you to. Standard procedure is to include a couple of better items and tell you to get third or fourth. If the objects are too valuable, then maybe we¡¯ll ask you to win, but that situation is rare. Expensive items are only helpful to reincarnators in a few unique circumstances.¡± ¡°What stuffs had been asked for in the past? Oh, and how many reincarnators are there?¡± ¡°For the last decade, we¡¯ve averaged three reincarnators per year. Exact number varies - yours has more, the one two years above you has less. As for what has been previously requested¡­ well, some ask for nothing. Occasionally I get requests for skills and spells,¡± he frowned at that. ¡°Those I turn down until one turns ten. I also get lots of begging to add rooms with specific training aids. I usually accommodate those. Someone wanted a chain sword once, and another one wanted to change their bloodline. It was a cheap bloodline, so I complied.¡± ¡°Why would you do that? Why would someone ever want that? With our extra thirty fate they have to be losing out on attributes, if it was a cheap bloodline like you suggested.¡± ¡°Yes, it wasn¡¯t a great deal on a raw power basis, but they had their reasons around synergy.¡± Dimitri answered smoothly. Intuitively, Tom understood what he meant. They clearly had titles and or traits that worked better with the different bloodline, and had leant into that strength. He guessed he would have done the same. ¡°You know about Corrine,¡± Dimitri continued. ¡°As well as about her getting a trait to boost her into the Divine trial. Every three or four years I get one like that.¡± The other man shrugged. ¡°It varies, to be honest. But whoever is in my role tries their hardest.¡± Tom nodded. What he was saying made a lot of sense to him. ¡°Well, instead of what has been asked for previously, what would you recommend that I get?¡± ¡°It depends on your build. But, if we are talking in generalities, I think the best items to concentrate on are natural treasures to either boost your magic affinity or your body. Then spell and skill affinity stones for an ability you already have. Sometimes boosting a skill from level one to ten can be a good enhancer.¡± ¡°Like spear mastery.¡± Tom muttered to himself. ¡°Yes, something like that. It becomes a force multiplier when it comes to getting other related skills. And, I guess, the last type of items is instructional aids, like your ring.¡± Tom glanced down at the band on his finger. It was very useful for managing his rage with Dampen Senses, as well as for training. ¡°I don¡¯t know what she was thinking about when she chose to give you that. Maybe she suspected you were reincarnated because to anyone else that ring would have been useless. Your getting that was super lucky. The only thing I insist on is that you don¡¯t get skills or spells until you¡¯ve been here for a few years.¡± ¡°Only those, not traits?¡± he teased immediately. ¡°I recommend for traits to be delayed for a different reason. Traits are difficult to develop independently, especially ones that are only complimentary to your main build, but not directly related. My recommendation to delay taking them on is to ensure that anything you get is perfect for you long-term. Unlike spells and skills, which humanity doesn¡¯t value, because, ultimately, we can buy them from the experience shop, traits have inherent value to us. They¡¯re more than just a trade good. They are valuable, and, in most cases, why would you give them to a kid, even a reincarnator, when it can go to a current champion of humanity? If you boost Cam¡¯s lightning power by ten percent, that¡¯s a huge upgrade, or Eden¡¯s archery by five per cent, or that of any of the heroes. Traits are hard to acquire because of that, and, more broadly, all the natives have their own powerhouses to promote.¡± ¡°Corrine got very lucky.¡± The other man shook his head. ¡°Yes and no. We don¡¯t want any of our champions fighting anything more powerful than them. That trait was not one they would have benefitted from.¡± ¡°As an emergency measure, it¡¯s pretty good.¡± Dimitri laughed hollowly. ¡°Yes, no. Our experience is that, if you give humans a shield, it just means they¡¯ll push harder. They¡¯ll climb ranks faster, but become far more likely to die. That talent was dangerous, and much better used going to Corrine to get her into the divine champion¡¯s trial. As I¡¯ve said, you can ask for traits, but you might not receive one.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want a trait.¡± Tom admitted. ¡°I¡¯d like to see what I can create myself, to see how far I¡¯m capable of pushing my body and magic.¡± ¡°Good.¡± ¡°I do, however, want a couple of things. My first question is - can the isolation rooms be updated to include teleportation and precognition spell guides?¡± Dimitri raised an eyebrow at that request: ¡°That is not what I was expecting.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a part of where I want my long-term build to go, but, unlike most paths, these are not included in the isolation rooms.¡± ¡°My gut instinct is that we can¡¯t do it, but let me check.¡± The older man closed his eyes, and the animation left him as he retreated into his system room. Tom stared at Dimitri and wondered what exactly was he doing there. Chapter 47 – Heavy Negotiations. It took over seventy seconds - a number Tom knew because he started counting - before animation flooded back into Dimitri. The older man shifted uneasily on his seat. ¡°It¡¯s an interesting request, Tom. But, pray, please tell me, why exactly do you want them?¡± Tom furrowed his brow, not understanding the context: ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean,¡± Dimitri said patiently. ¡°Are you leaning into a strength or rebuilding an old battle style?¡± ¡°Both.¡± Unbidden, he glanced around the room worriedly, as he didn¡¯t want to give away anything to potential enemies. ¡°Are we sure this is secure?¡± ¡°Very much so. This is the most secure place within human control. So, why do you want these two schools of magic?¡± ¡°I want teleportation because it¡¯ll be my main method of mitigating damage.¡± ¡°Recapturing your old style?¡± Tom frowned. He realised that he was being trapped by his own words. ¡°Yes and no.¡± ¡°And, previously, did you rely on spells or skills when teleporting?¡± ¡°Skills.¡± ¡°And do you know your spatial affinity?¡± He shook his head. ¡°And your lowest known affinity?¡± ¡°Seventy-one.¡± ¡°Well, that makes it easy. I¡¯m not getting you teleportation spell forms.¡± ¡°Why?¡± he asked even though he knew the answer based on the questions asked. ¡°The simplest teleportation spell starts at tier two. With your low affinity and no prior experience with spatial spells, you¡¯ll just waste your time trying to create a spell at that level. Having it available will also screw over other kids. They¡¯ll all want to learn Body Shift as a step to get to Blink, but it¡¯ll be beyond them.¡± Tom couldn¡¯t help but look around again: ¡°But you¡¯ll get me precognition, right? My affinity is in the mid-nineties.¡± Absolute stillness filled Dimitri for a moment. Then he swallowed and shut his eyes: ¡°A hero of humanity. Mid-nineties, that¡¯s¡­ are you serious?¡± ¡°There¡¯s no point for me to lie to you. I need you as an ally.¡± ¡°There are lots of reasons to lie, but I¡¯m willing to accept you¡¯re not doing so. Mid-nineties, that¡¯s high. That¡¯s ridiculous. When your affinities are that high, do you even need materials to learn spells and skills?¡± ¡°Yes, you do. I take it your reaction means that you¡¯ll help?¡± Dimitri shook himself: ¡°Um¡­ sure¡­ if your precognition is so high, then my concerns of the spells not working don¡¯t apply.¡± His fingers tapped his thigh rapidly, and he was staring up at the roof as he reasoned everything out. ¡°Screwing up others is still a concern¡­ and, um ¡­ I¡¯ll need to get the council on board, but they owe me enough favours, and there must be some research that precognition in children causes better outcomes. Even if I¡¯ll have to make up a case study to submit, I can swing that. Yeah, I guess I can get the council on board. It¡¯ll take a year and the council won¡¯t like it, but I¡¯ll get it pushed through.¡± ¡°Do they start at tier two as well?¡± As though a switch was flicked, the other man¡¯s focus switched back to the current conversation: ¡°No, the precognition school of magic has numerous tier one spells such as Treasure Direction, Sense Hidden Intent, Danger Hunch, Camp Site Assess. They all share the commonality of imprecision and high failure rates, but, having said that, they are very useful spells to have in your team. Not that the tier really matters - research says that trying to jump straight to tier one is as impossible as doing that with tier two. Even peak tier zero is beyond most people¡¯s capabilities. For the typical child and reincarnator, precognition spells will be too complicated. I can¡¯t put it in the general supplies, but I think I¡¯ll be able to get them included in the specialised material cupboards.¡± ¡°That¡¯ll be very helpful.¡± ¡°What else were you after?¡± ¡°I want access to the bat lair.¡± ¡°There¡¯s an established process for that. Get your general combat rating to two and confirmed by trial administrator. It will then give instructions on how to get access.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s way too long. I need access now.¡± Dimitri massaged the bridge of his nose once more. ¡°Tom, it¡¯s more complicated than that. The rules are in place for a reason. They¡¯re not just arbitrary.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that, Tom. Why do you think nearly every adult you see has zero fate?¡± ¡°Because they¡¯re dedicating fate to the community.¡± ¡°Exactly, and are you aware that about a third of that goes to this orphanage? Haven¡¯t you ever wondered why there have been no deaths since you got here?¡± ¡°Of course I have.¡± His fury had been unleashed because of the fear on multiple occasions, but it wasn¡¯t just fate. The facility was hardened. ¡°Are you sure?¡± he questioned. ¡°Because, as I see it, there are spells to stop falling, and illusions to keep kids away from other dangerous points.¡± ¡°No, no, no. Those precautions wouldn¡¯t have been enough all by themselves. There are thousands of objects and places in this orphanage that can kill an inquisitive child. There is no such thing as spell protections that are that perfect. It is fate that does the heavy lifting. You know that blanket fort in the main gym? There is no way that would have been allowed back on Earth. It¡¯s a death trap, but no one¡¯s ever died in that. It¡¯s because of that fate protection.¡± ¡°This is interesting, but I don¡¯t understand how it¡¯s relevant.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°The prayer for the orphanage is very specific. Even with almost two thousand people contributing, it has to be limited to work at the level it does. One of those limitations is that it only works if you¡¯re playing within the rules. You go do stupid things on the obstacle course, then you¡¯re protected. It¡¯ll let you get hurt, but everything that happens to you will be able to be healed. You¡¯re not going to get permanently brain-injured or kill yourself. But if you sneak down to the lairs without that general two combat rating, then none of that accumulated fate will be helping you. You can die.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care. I need access.¡± ¡°No, absolutely not. It¡¯s too dangerous. You might have your memories from a previous life, you might be a hero of humanity, hell, you could have been the most important of them, but that doesn¡¯t mean shit right now. You¡¯re in a four-year-old body without any spells.¡± ¡°No! I have spells.¡± ¡°Shit ones don¡¯t count.¡± ¡°Heal Cut and Purge Foreign Substances are not shit. They¡¯re efficient and upper mid-tier zero.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re focused on healing first. Am I supposed to care or be impressed?¡± ¡°They¡¯re good, and I have sideways evolutions to support them.¡± ¡°Good? No, they¡¯re pedestrian, and you know it.¡± ¡°And I have a skill that effectively quadruples my mana regain, so I can use them regularly.¡± ¡°Tom, you have, what, ten base mana? Your full mana pool can¡¯t even heal a large non-fatal injury.¡± ¡°With a skill I have forty.¡± He was lying a little by claiming that, but Dimitri didn¡¯t need to know. ¡°Tom, I get it. I¡¯ve been in your position. I, too, wanted to rush, but guess what? You don¡¯t have a choice. With only an access to biological attribute growth and no experience shop, you have to take it slow.¡± ¡°No, I have to train against the bats. It¡¯s essential that I develop Danger Sense.¡± ¡°And with your precognition affinity you¡¯ll get that easily before you reach fifteen. This is not a sprint; it¡¯s a marathon.¡± Tom threw his hands up in the air: ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re being stubborn. Do you want to know why I¡¯m pushing? It¡¯s not because I hadn¡¯t considered the risks. I have, and I understand the threat the bats represent. I¡¯m only considering it because I¡¯m going to get into the divine championship before I turn seven, and Danger Sense is needed for that.¡± Dimitri¡¯s eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing. ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± ¡°Do you know that requires a general combat of four? You¡¯ll be fighting monsters five to ten times faster than you. And you can¡¯t cheat, because the GODs do the judging.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve done the maths. Spear Mastery, Power Strike, Lunge, Spark, Touch Heal, Danger Sense and a trait like Corrine got will get me there comfortably.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an impressive and ambitious development list, but even if you manage it, I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s enough.¡± ¡°It is. I have a title that gives me sideway evolutions. Spark and Touch Heal will hit twice as hard as they normally do. I can almost guarantee it. With my extra mana, it¡¯ll be enough.¡± ¡°Yes, I understand. You were a hero of humanity. Your starting traits and titles are impressive, but it¡¯s not Divine Champions¡¯ Trial level of impressive.¡± ¡°I can also see through illusions, and I have that Fear Reflect ability. I don¡¯t know where it comes from, but I doubt it¡¯s so niche it only protects against fear. So, I¡¯m probably protected against mind attacks more generally, which will put me at a massive advantage against lots of monsters that would easily defeat most people.¡± ¡°Yes, that was you down there that time, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Dimitri raised his hand, and Tom felt a pressure on his mind. It was like a sharp spike that was supposed to drill through into his brain, but, while he could feel the intent, no pain came with it. Dimitri winced and massaged his brow. ¡°Yes, evidence suggests it covers everything. It¡¯s a high-tiered spell, or at least a legendary title. I don¡¯t want to encourage your stupidity, but that reflect ability is worth a lot. Potentially even in the divine trial space.¡± ¡°So, I¡¯ll have offensive power with spear and Spark, survivability from Touch Heal and Danger Sense, and immunity to mind attacks and illusions. If I get a trait to deal with high-speed opponents, I¡¯ll get that rating.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand what a general combat rating of four means. What you¡¯ve listed is good, but not enough.¡± ¡°I would usually agree, but Danger Sense will be backed by a mid-nineties affinity. That will protect me from most threats in and of itself.¡± ¡°You still need a solution for speed.¡± ¡°A trait if it turns up, otherwise I¡¯ll find another alternative. I¡¯ll think of something. But the point is it¡¯s worth a gamble. Dimitri, you have to understand, these environmental engineering projects are not the panacea. They¡¯ll fall short. We¡¯re way behind. The crystal slime attempt was good, but it¡¯s not working as planned.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll still work, but it¡¯ll take longer than expected. We knew they¡¯d eat each other. We just didn¡¯t realise they would be willing to share the minerals with each other after they did so.¡± ¡°Dimitri, it¡¯s not going to be enough. Every single one of those projects needs to go perfectly, and we still might not make it.¡± ¡°They have more upsides than what is written.¡± Tom stared him down. Dimitri broke eye contact first. ¡°Fine, but something else will come up.¡± ¡°Exactly. We¡¯re not in a position where we can play safe. Me getting into that divine champion trial will help close that gap.¡± ¡°Will it? Or will it kill you? Fifty percent of the best and the brightest who make it into that meat grinder die.¡± ¡°Taking that risk is worthwhile. Losing by a little is still death for billions. We might as well swing for the rafters.¡± ¡°Your facing bats still risks your death. I personally don¡¯t think a slight improvement is worth the chance of you dying.¡± ¡°I survived last time.¡± ¡°It was one bat, and you were covered by the community¡¯s fate, then. The prayer for an orphanage is two paragraphs long. I¡¯ve studied it. We don¡¯t get penalised for risks we fail to foresee. We know now you can see through the illusion, so you¡¯re blocked with other methods.¡± ¡°I still need access.¡± Dimitri was thoughtful for a moment. ¡°I can supervise you. If I¡¯m there, you can¡¯t get in trouble.¡± ¡°You mean babysit?¡± The other man smiled, which was an answer enough. ¡°No, I can¡¯t afford to have you there. It¡¯ll hinder the skill acquisition. I don¡¯t need perfect safety, I need speed.¡± ¡°Me being there will delay you little.¡± ¡°No. If you¡¯re there, I won¡¯t develop Danger Sense in time. I have a deadline. Dimitri, you¡¯re overthinking this. I¡¯m not a child to be protected. I¡¯m an adult, and I can make my own decisions and I¡¯m putting my foot down. My skills and experience will let me survive.¡± ¡°Lairs are dangerous, Tom. You¡¯ve got bosses and unexpected clumps of...¡± ¡°I know how lairs work. I¡¯ve cleared thousands of them in the tutorials.¡± ¡°Thousands?¡± Dimitri raised both bushy eyebrows. ¡°I find that to be unlikely.¡± ¡°I was in the tutorial for over forty years.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ I see. You¡¯re a hero. I really should have expected something like that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m an adult. I can make decisions.¡± ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll grant you access on two provisos. Is that acceptable?¡± ¡°Depends on what they are, doesn¡¯t it? I¡¯m not about to give you a blank check.¡± Dimitri did not smile: ¡°The first is that you always carry the anti-venom.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not suicidal. There is no way I would go down there without an antidote.¡± More precisely, not taking an antidote with him would limit him to only forty minutes of training after being injured. If he didn¡¯t have to worry about the deadly venom, he would be able to train for longer. Not that he was going to tell the overly protective Dimitri that. ¡°Second, you take this.¡± A plain necklace appeared in his fingers. It was made of a tarnished copper metal and looked cheap. Even in magic sight, it did not look impressive. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a very expensive emergency beacon. The underlying functionality is simple, but the obfuscation layers on it are extensive. You carry it, and, if you get in trouble, you use it.¡± Having such a get out of jail card would increase the time it would take for him to create his skill, but Tom understood its utility, and, if carrying it was what he had to do to receive permission, then it was a small price to pay. ¡°Agreed.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be restricted to delving only on Wednesdays and Extentdays.¡± Tom nodded at that. Two days a week was better than expected. With weeks in Existentia being eight days, humans had adapted their existing calendar by adding in the unimaginatively named Extentday to the calendar. Then, to get days in the year right, they had extended each month to six weeks and added in the month of Thoruary. ¡°Those are the days when I¡¯m the only adult on staff. I¡¯m only authorising you for the bat cave. You know which one it is. Don¡¯t go down a different one, or I won¡¯t give you access to the lairs anymore. When you enter the main cavern, if you turn left instead of right, you¡¯ll find an alcove that contains weapons and antidotes.¡± Dimitri explained how to make sure he got the right antidote. It was all very logically set up. The other man looked him in the eye. ¡°Our time is almost up. I won¡¯t be providing access to the bat lair until you¡¯ve done the legwork to set up the emergency meeting. You won¡¯t like it, I won¡¯t like it, but we¡¯ll do it to protect ourselves and human ranking points. Understood?¡± ¡°I won¡¯t forget.¡± ¡°And then after that, I guess I¡¯ll see you on Extentday.¡± Tom nodded, and they finished two minutes early. There were other things that Tom wanted to ask, but going before the deadline was less suspicious than going right to the last minute, so that is what he did. Chapter 48 – Bat hunting They entered the main hall, and Tom saw Dimitri supervising as always. Deliberately, he elbowed Kang harder than he should have to get his attention. The other reincarnator shot him a curious look, as opposed to an annoyed one. ¡°Race you to the bubbles.¡± Tom challenged him, and then took off. He stretched himself into a full-out sprint, and could feel Kang following close behind him. He didn¡¯t know what Bir was doing and didn¡¯t care, as he only needed one person to provide him cover. ¡°Stop running!¡± Dimitri shouted. Between him and his destination there were people, chairs, tables, a construct trundling along cleaning the stone. He made his decision. The deviation was subtle, a slight step to the right so that his shoulder collided with Kang¡¯s pumping arms. Then he overcompensated on the resultant recoil. Flashes of how to avoid falling and recover went through his mind, and he overrode those instincts. He had been pushed off course, and, rather than shortening his step, he lengthened it. His foot landed on the edge of the construct. Physics and body mechanics took over. The uneven footing made his ankle twist. It gave way. His knee automatically collapsed to protect the joint, his balance was shot, and he was spinning and falling uncontrollably. The stone floor filled his vision. His instinctive but poorly-braced arm took the brunt of the landing. He heard a click, then the arm collapsed, and his chin smacked against marble. Tom saw white, his brain registered pain, and, rather than to push through the otherwise deliberating bodily reaction with his willpower, Tom stepped into his pseudo-system room. The sound was muted, but he could tell his body was screaming. Through the screens, he watched Dimitri pick him up. Completely by coincidence, he had fallen just metres from the other man. He observed the glow of healing magic, and presumably some soothing words were being said. For Tom, less than twenty seconds passed as he stood in the metal room watching the magic of his title, watching himself perform a master class in acting. From one of Dimitri¡¯s offhand comments, he knew the other man would be doing something similar. He had confided that for normal kids he stayed in the moment, but for reincarnators that was too weird. A little over a dozen seconds in his own retreat was over two minutes in the real world, and Tom decided that was enough. He took control of his body. The first thing he discovered was that there was no pain. The arm and chin had both been completely healed. Dimitri put him down next to his friends. The pat on his back was firm, as though the other man didn¡¯t want to be doing it, but understood it was necessary. ¡°There, there, I¡¯ve healed you. There¡¯s no need to cry. If you ever need me, I¡¯m here.¡± Tom glanced at Dimitri. His eyes were blurry because of his tears, but there was a clear wet patch that Tom was pretty sure included snot on the chest area of the man¡¯s top. He was a good man. Before he could think about that further, Bir grabbed his arm: ¡°You hurt? Ta are you hurt?¡± ¡°No, he¡¯s fully healed,¡± Dimitri told her. Kang, having picked up on the deliberate nature of the collision, didn¡¯t even comment. They played bubbles for thirty minutes until dinner was served. Two nights later, Tom fell asleep and had his internal alarm clock wake him in the middle of the night. He stirred and sat upright. It was nearly pitch-black in the dorms, and he stepped into the system room briefly to check the time. 11:35pm That, he decided, was late enough. It was Extentday, and he had a date. He snuck out of bed with his hand touching the tarnished necklace around his neck. The moment he did so, he could feel the option to trigger it. It was a source of safety during what was an inherently dangerous activity. The corridors were deserted, and when he reached the dining room, the metal door was wide open. With a big grin, he hurried down the stairs and into the main cavern; then turned right. Thick fabric blocked his way, and he pushed through the heavy cloth. The force of his passage caused a bell to tinkle ahead of him. He tensed briefly before reminding himself that the noise was expected. Once he was through the entrance, Tom stood quietly and counted to ten. It was pitch-black. There wasn¡¯t even a thin seam of glowing fungus to give his eyes a chance to work. The cloth, in addition to being thick, had to be enchanted to be so effective. Nine, ten¡­ Smiling in anticipation, he pushed through the final two curtains and emerged into a dimly lit room, but, given the previously complete lack of light, he still recoiled slightly at the brightness. However, that didn¡¯t stop him from scoping the room out. He was relieved to see that it appeared empty, but since there were not one, but three further alcoves, it was possible that someone could have slipped into those while he was waiting in the previous section. With no time to waste, he rushed to the potion section. It was a flat table, where the positions of the antidotes matched the lair entrance tunnels in the main cavern. There were pictures and descriptions of the monsters that filled the lairs. Curiously, he scanned what else was available. Until the next session with Dimitri in six months, he was happy to focus on the bats as agreed, but learning more to plan future adventures was sensible. There were images of two different bats. The second one was located on the far wall from the alcove he was in, as opposed to four entrances away, so there was no chance of confusion. In addition, there were giant insects, spiders, snakes, mammals, and more exotic threats including a tentacle monster, some kind of slime, and an image that he thought might have been representing a ghost. He grabbed four of the antidotes tailored for his bats along with a general all-purpose one, as well as a powerful healing potion. It paid to be prepared for the worst. Without wasting time, he jogged over to the weapon rack and snatched the two smallest daggers. Due to his diminutive size, they were actually slightly too large for his hands, but they were the best weapons available, and, as he had found out in his previous encounter physically, the bats weren¡¯t very tough, so they would be more than enough. A belt and sheaths were quickly strapped to his waist. Then he grabbed gloves, a scarf, and a full coverage helmet in the armour section. There was no need for any additional armour, because the standard enchanted clothes they all wore had already proven themselves capable of stopping the bats¡¯ attacks. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The final result didn¡¯t just appear ridiculous - it was farcical. If he so much as moved his head the helmet would slide and cover his eyes. If he was going into a serious battle, he wouldn¡¯t have even considered wearing it, as the regular loss of vision was not worth the extra defence it would grant. However, given his purpose, having a helmet blocking his sight was not that big of an issue, and, at the very least, it would protect his eyes from physical damage. Preparations done, he fled the room. He knew that the older children would be taking advantage of the lair system, and he wanted to limit the chance of running into them. When he emerged into the main cavern, there was still no one in sight. Thanking his luck and with his helmet under the crook of his arm, he hurried down the same tunnel as before. Tom pushed his pace as fast as he could without exhausting himself. The healing magic he had developed, not to mention the addition of armour and weapons, meant that he was materially better off than when he had explored this place for the first time, but Dimitri¡¯s warning echoed in his mind. The community fate that had shielded him last time would not protect him today. He was on his own, and there was a real risk of death. At that thought, he used half of his fate pool, as previously planned, expending it with the singular aim of helping him survive the night. Then he kept walking, and, abruptly, the smell of the tunnel changed. Tom immediately froze and took two steps backwards until the smell vanished. Safely out of the lair, he wrapped the scarf around his neck and secured his helmet. Then, with only a little frustration, he got both gauntlets on, and a naked blade in each of them. He was ready. It was time to hunt. He took deep breaths and reminded himself of why he was here; then activated the Dampen Senses component of his ring. Hesitantly, while being blind and deaf for all practical purposes, he stepped forward, deeper into the lair. With sight and hearing constrained as they were, he did not know what was around him. His precognition skill flexed in the background, producing mana that he sent unstructured into his brain, hoping it would help kickstart the process. As much as he wanted it to help, he wasn¡¯t sure how the mana worked, but figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try, at least until he got injured and the magic would have to be applied to more pressing needs. His senses strained, searching and attempting to identify the approach of any enemies. He took another step. Then a third one. This stepping into the complete unknown was a harder challenge than he had expected. He wanted to lead with a searching hand, but that would defeat the purpose of the activity. More steps. Fear told him that the wall must be right in front of him. He turned and hesitantly stepped forward on the new trajectory. ¡°Shit, this is hard,¡± he whispered. It had only been a couple of minutes, and he was already disorientated. This, Tom acknowledged, was not the weirdest thing he had ever done for power, but it was close. Something hit his shoulder. He cursed and slashed uselessly at the air. The bat had not held on, and by the time he responded it could have been anywhere. His heart rate increased. ¡°You¡¯re armoured,¡± he reminded himself. He stood there, waiting, fearing the next moments. Would it attack his head? Or his ankles? Or burrow through the scarf on his neck? He stepped to the side decisively. There was no way to tell if that had been the precognition helping, or merely a senseless movement. He split the air once more, savagely and randomly, swinging in a potentially pointless fashion with both arms. Then he returned to the resting stance. Where was it? Had it gone to get friends? Something smacked into his glove. It held on, scrambling, trying to cut through to the softer flesh and failing. He tried to impale it with the knife in his other hand, but it flew away before he got close. Was that a squeak? No, it was only his imagination playing tricks. He kept moving, swinging wildly, erratically to drive it off while pretending he was being guided by his mysterious ability. The first bat had been patient, and this one apparently was so, too. It was testing him: hitting his helmet, landing on his knee. It thumped into the middle of his back and didn¡¯t let go. He could feel its teeth trying to tear the fabric and, instinctively, Tom understood that it had worked out that this was his weak spot. Battle instincts switched on, and he rolled to either squish it or dislodge it. The bat chose to survive, but the loosely fitting helmet went flying. With a curse he scrambled to recover it and it took all of his self control not to reduce the amount of dampening his senses were enduring. Real, unmitigated danger would drive his skill development, and he wasn¡¯t about to reduce his handicaps the moment something went wrong. A bat slammed into his head. Pain flared. His dagger hit it as it flew away. He had no idea whether it was a mortal blow or not, but he for now he didn¡¯t care about the weakened bat. It had tagged him. He was now on the counter. Heal Cut sealed the wound, and one point of precognition mana into Purge Foreign Substance told him he was infected. His time down here was now limited. He took an antidote potion before replacing the helmet. Within the pseudo system room, he set the timer up, and then he continued walking. It was just after midnight, so he could safely spend a full four hours here. The presumably wounded bat had either fled or died, because it didn¡¯t come for him again. His excess mana regeneration fully healed the cut and replaced the small amount of blood he had lost. He kept going, blindly. Another bat, or possibly multiple ones, harassed him. He rolled into solid stone and groaned. His entire back was going to end up bruised from that one collision. A bat got under the flap of his glove, cutting him, probably to the bone. Tendons had been severed, because one of his fingers wasn¡¯t working properly. Tom frowned. Now he needed to visit a healing crystal on the way to bed to fix that. Time passed. An additional antidote was used. A random swing of his arm gutted a bat. He ran into a wall and had to sit for a minute to recover his composure. The occasional squeak was audible over the Dampen Senses restriction; however, he didn¡¯t change its levels. The infrequent audible clues were not enough to guide even his defensive reactions. He pressed on and tried to force himself to take longer steps rather than the cautious ones his fear had forced him to default to before. A moment later he went over a lip of stone, fell, tumbled head over heels, and, with more parts of him aching, regretted his inability to do anything but try his best. He strove to maintain the longer strides anyway. There was more rolling on the ground, both because of uneven footing and the bats learning to hold on to places his daggers couldn¡¯t easily reach. He stabbed his arm by accident, and had to pause for almost half a minute to close the wound. The spells he possessed were not efficient. Touch Heal would have let him fix the injury almost instantly, even with his current tiny mana pool. He used Purge Foreign Substance regularly to track the progression of the venom pumped into him. The potions were effective for thirty percent longer than expected. Tom allowed the antidote to deplete completely, and then neutralised the next bite with Purge Foreign Substance. The experiment was completely successful. In the next run, he wouldn¡¯t take the antidote pre-emptively. More walls where there was supposed to be empty space smacked him. He was surprised by the number of times it was his knees absorbing the force of the step. It was possible, he mused to himself, that he might need to consider protective armour there. The bats were persistent, with each new one requiring around thirty attempted strikes before he got lucky and hit them. Tom couldn¡¯t tell if that was a result of random chance, or if his high affinity was helping him out. The smell suddenly changed. Between one step and another, the stink of ammonia vanished. Experimentally, he stepped back and wrinkled his nose. He checked the time, and it was 3:20 am. It was time to go. He had wandered back to the start, and the familiar upward sloping tunnel greeted him. With his helmet off and his senses returned to normal, the tunnel almost seemed well lit. It had been a good first training session. He returned the gear to the right spots and then collapsed once he reached his bed. It had been a success, and after a couple of hours of sleep he would face the new day. Chapter 49.1 – Short Tempers The bat cave run might have been a success, but Tom¡¯s body felt otherwise. He knew he was being more irritable than usual, not to mention snappy, grumpy, and just generally unpleasant to be around. He had even caught Bir making faces at Kang over it. Not that it mattered to him. With his lack of sleep, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care about the consequences of his actions. It was their free session before dinner and they went to the obstacle course gymnasium to practice. Today, they had collectively decided that, rather than pushing to complete one of the harder courses, they would aim to get more out of the easier one. They were attempting to push themselves in a non-traditional manner. Instead of crossing the stepping stones in the way they were intended to be navigated, they would skip every second. For the tightrope, they attempted to forgo using the chest-high guide rope, there to stabilise their balance. It was incredibly challenging. ¡°Fuck mum, what does she know?¡± Tom heard someone curse from the entrance of the room. Ahead of him, both Kang and Bir tensed. With a sinking feeling, Tom recognised the voice. He knew they liked the obstacle courses, but this particular time slot was usually free. ¡°Fuck her, that dumb bitch.¡± Tom abandoned the no hands rule and, using his hands on the guiding ropes to help his own balance, he as good as sprinted across the rope. The moment he was on the firm ground, his fears were confirmed. All three boys were in the room, and they were heading straight at them. There was going to be no escape. Boreas, the one who had been swearing, was leading the charge. His face was dark with anger, and his expression was cruel. Kang jumped down to the floor in an instant. Bir trailed on Kang¡¯s heels while desperately not looking at the approaching teenagers. Tom knew that Kang was trying to avoid attention, but it was too late. Boreas was focused on them, and no amount of bowing and scraping would remove the target that angry gaze had stamped on their backs. It might have been futile, but he followed the others. His gut screamed that this was going to end poorly, and Bir felt the same as she released a burst of fate, presumably in an attempt to protect them. Tom frowned at that. The proactive use was sensible, but not against people. Their own fate would cancel her efforts out, and he was worried that the coming confrontation might result in her learning the wrong lessons. ¡°How dare she say I¡¯m wasting my life? What the hell would she know? It¡¯s not like she¡¯s ever around. Always too busy adventuring to spend time with me.¡± None of the boys responded to the rhetorical questions. Kang headed straight for the side wall, intending to clear the course and hopefully deny them an easy excuse for bullying. ¡°Well?¡± Boreas demanded. Pausing momentarily to glare at his friends, to make it clear that he wanted a response from them. ¡°She was out of line,¡± Arnali agreed. ¡°She doesn¡¯t see how hard you work.¡± ¡°True right. You there!¡± Boreas bellowed, now talking to them. ¡°Keep walking.¡± Kang hissed at them. His head was down and he reached the wall and turned, but it was too late. With all the extra grace and speed that a twelve-year-old possessed, Boreas intercepted them. ¡°Where are you three slinking off too?¡± ¡°To get food. I¡¯m hungry,¡± Kang said. The other boy smiled cruelly and stood deliberately in Kang¡¯s route. ¡°Are you sure? You¡¯re not lying to me, are you?¡± Tom could see his friend¡¯s face and, while it looked deferential, he recognised the fury in the tight line of the other reincarnator¡¯s mouth. Despite the provocation, Kang said nothing. Bir had her head down as well, and Tom knew there was no way she would make a scene. Hopefully, if they played meek and mild, they would be able to wait this out. ¡°What¡¯s this? Silence? Are you really going to not say anything? Are you truly not tempted to ask if I can move so you can go eat?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Silence greeted him. Boreas¡¯ face became redder. ¡°Don¡¯t you ignore me. Don¡¯t you know it¡¯s rude not to answer questions.¡± Tom forced himself to look away. Even sneaking glances at the older boy was dangerous. ¡°I¡¯m happy to wait.¡± Kang said, in a neutral submissive tone while staring at his feet the entire time. ¡°Listen, I¡¯ll get out of your way if you do one thing. Let us watch you do an obstacle course and then you can go.¡± Kang maintained the determined silence. ¡°I promise. One run.¡± Boreas reached out and seized Kang¡¯s arm and then glared at his two companions. ¡°If the others don¡¯t follow, bring them.¡± Then he dragged Kang along, and, even though the reincarnator was big for his age, there was nothing the boy could do. Instead, he was forced to run to keep up with the older boy¡¯s quick walk. Before the other two could get involved, Tom grabbed Bir¡¯s hand and, at a trot, while almost dragging her, he followed them. Boreas, unsurprisingly, was making a beeline straight for the hardest course. ¡°I just need to see one attempt, and then you can go. All of you. I promise.¡± ¡°Not that one,¡± Arnali insisted. ¡°It¡¯s too hard. They won¡¯t get past the first obstacle. It¡¯ll be boring, boring.¡± He grabbed Tom¡¯s shoulder and Tom was stunned to feel the spark of electricity between them. Instinctively, from his core he reached out to the boy holding him, and there was a small chime. His capturer hesitated, glanced at him strangely, and then dragged him over to the fifth-rated obstacle course. It was still way too complicated for kids their age, and they were going to fail for sure, but it was not as intimidating as the first course. ¡°This level will be more entertaining.¡± Boreas froze, his expression that of indecision. Arnali pushed him forward, but didn¡¯t release the grip on Tom¡¯s shoulder. ¡°This one¡¯s better. More fun for us.¡± Then he leant down aggressively: ¡°Go show us something good,¡± he hissed, then lowered his voice so only Tom could hear. ¡°Get his attention. This one has safety features. You¡¯ll probably be fine on the top course, but we don¡¯t want the other two kids to be forced to do it.¡± That was enough for Tom. He had already assessed the course he was facing, and getting totalled on the fourth level, which was the highest in the first third of the course, would be the optimal outcome. Tom spent five fate, and, when he entered the obstacle course he didn¡¯t touch his dampening ring, knowing that he couldn¡¯t afford the handicap. He was going to require all the coordination he could eke out of this body just to reach the second obstacle. The climbing wall was not quite as difficult as he had feared. He was even confident enough to deliberately miss a step when he was halfway up and then to hang there yelling in terror for a moment before recovery. It was good to entertain them when he had the capacity to do so. The older boys laughed and jeered as he went. The next obstacle consisted of a series of rising platforms. Most of the times you could leap from one to the other. Occasionally, he had to twist around the pillars, holding on by the tip of his fingernails; then the distance he had to cover with his jumps got larger. Sometimes it was so wide Tom doubted he could physically make the leap, but he tried anyway. The moment he was airborne, he knew he had misjudged the effort. He wasn¡¯t going to make it. Midair, he changed from attempting a normal landing to committing to crashing into it, in order to give himself a chance of not falling. His abdomen collided with the edge. His breath was blown from his lungs, but he grasped the platform desperately. His feet dangled, kicking uselessly in the air. He slipped slightly, then forced himself to still. He spread his arms, then laboriously drew himself back up and onto the platform. For a moment he lay there, panting, then he got up. He needed to be entertaining. He went back to jumping, and only missed one more leap. The second miss was more controlled, and took only a momentary scramble to right himself. The third obstacle was a rope climb, which, compared to the first two, was ridiculously easy, as he had long since mastered the required technique. He monkeyed up it effortlessly. Finally, he reached the challenge he was after, and it reminded him of the ninja television shows. There was a bridge to cross, with a spinning shaft with four-padded boom arms coming out. It spun fast, with one of the limbs sweeping over the bridge every couple of seconds. To cross, you had to leap over some and duck under others. He attempted sprinting across the bridge, ready to be hurt to protect the others. To the observers, he was a dumb kid who had been lucky in getting this far. There was no need to delude them of that opinion. A padded arm swept toward him. He made no effort to jump over it, as he leant into the little kid with no spatial awareness stereotype. The arm smacked into him. The force of the collision lifting him off the ground. He flipped. On the way over the edge, his head slapped against the slightly spongy surface of the bridge before he slid right off and began falling. For a moment, fear locked him up and he prayed that Arnali hadn¡¯t been lying about the protections, and that the community¡¯s fate would be strong enough to shield him. The fall was over five metres high, and the floor would not be cushioned sufficiently for him to weather landing head-first without injuries. He plunged down and struck a rope of another course hard, but magic wrapped around him and safeguarded him. The collision must have looked like a horrific one to outside observers, but the protective magic meant it didn¡¯t damage him in any significant way. The enchantment had even reinforced his spine to avoid whiplash. Then he slammed into the ground, but, once more, the magic cushioned the fall slightly. Not completely, no ¨C it still felt like he had fallen from a decent height. But that height felt as though it were only a metre and a half, as opposed to five. Chapter 49.2 – Short Tempers ¡°Ouch, that looked like it hurt,¡± Boreas crowed. ¡°Are you going to cry, little baby?¡± Tom picked himself up. The smart thing was to give into the general soreness, retreat into the pseudo room and let his avatar wail like a little kid, but he didn¡¯t want to. Instead, he drew on his acting skills, such as they were, and pretended to be injured significantly more than he actually was. With a pronounced limp, he headed for the healing crystal. Boreas stepped in his way a smirk on his face. Tom could feel his own increasing fury. That smug face, the simple cruelty to someone weaker than him, pushed his buttons. ¡°You don¡¯t look that hurt.¡± The older boy winked at him. With a sinking feeling, Tom realised that Boreas knew about the protections that had reduced the damage from the fall. Of course he did. Tom thought annoyed at his own slow thinking. Boreas was twelve, and had most likely fallen multiple times from the spot Tom had. His lack of sleep, Tom realised, was really affecting him. ¡°Now her,¡± Boreas pointed at Bir. ¡°You do it. See if you can get further than your boyfriend,¡± he giggled. Tom felt like rolling his eyes. They could get through this. A little humiliation and it would be over. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± A shrill voice said from the doorway. Ma stood there. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to do that. I¡¯m dobbing.¡± She turned to sprint away. ¡°Declan,¡± Boreas snapped, and the other boy sprinted toward Ma. There was a flash, and a barrier appeared in the doorway, blocking him. Declan threw punches at it, but it held suspiciously well. Boreas¡¯ predatory gaze switched to Bir. She was being her usual timid self when exposed to older people. She had frozen. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Bir, you just need to climb,¡± Kang whispered to her desperately. ¡°Move,¡± Boreas demanded and took a quick step and pushed her. Bir fell. She wasn¡¯t even trying to protect herself. Usually, such a small push wouldn¡¯t have knocked her flat on her backside. Out of the corner of his eyes Tom noticed the barrier fail, and Declan immediately rushed out to grab Ma. He would catch her quickly, long before she reached an adult. And then what? His thoughts ground to a halt. He didn¡¯t like to admit it, but both girls reminded him of his sister in different ways. If they were both picked on¡­ If they were hurt... Boreas¡¯ bullying was out of control. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. It was unacceptable. Tom¡¯s brain recognised what was happening, and he attempted to turn on Dampened Senses, but it was too late. The anger filled him. It was a raw, uncontrollable force of nature. The bully couldn¡¯t be allowed to do this. An almost soundless growl escaped his lips. He was too furious for words. Only¡­ He needed to wipe that smug look off the older boy¡¯s face. He sprinted at Boreas, his injuries forgotten, and then, disregarding his own health, he went for the one thing that could hurt the far taller boy. It was not like fighting the giant, but it was sort of similar. He led the charge with his head, and knowing full well that it wasn¡¯t going to be pleasant, he slammed into Boreas¡¯ knee. The limb he struck buckled, and the older boy stumbled. There was a flash of energy from one of the rings the boy wore. Tom¡¯s head rung from the collision. Words couldn¡¯t describe how ridiculous the attack had been as an opening salvo, but Tom was past reasoning. He didn¡¯t care if he got hurt - all that mattered was injuring the other person. ¡°What the fuck! That hurt.¡± Boreas looked down at him in shock. The smug smile was replaced with an expression of pained anger. Tom used his willpower to ignore the way the world was roiling to push himself to his feet. Then he tried to punch Boreas in the balls. The bully was too slow, and Tom felt a surge of elation. He was going to get him. The enemy would double over. Then he would pull the head down onto his knee and when Boreas fell, he would kick him into bloody submission. Arnali¡¯s hand flashed downward and deflected the underhand blow. He struck the inner thigh instead of where he had been aiming. Mentally, he cursed, but that didn¡¯t slow him as he drew his right hand back. He was swinging with his left for the same spot. ¡°Feral.¡± Boreas proclaimed. His leg came up to protect his sensitive area. Tom¡¯s left-handed strike struck it - and did nothing. ¡°What the fuck did you do to my knee?¡± Tom sensed the magic gathering in the boy and decided that, if the groin was off-limits, he could try to strike the hurt knee. It seemed his opponent was sensitive about it. He pulled his leg back to kick, but the magic completed its course of action. The world spun, and Tom found himself briefly staring up at the ceiling. He could taste copper in his mouth, but he didn¡¯t care about that. He had a fight to finish. He leapt to his feet, and was knocked to the floor again. His mind swam. Stubbornly, he stood up once more. This time, a heavy force slammed into his ribs, and he was sent airborne. He coughed blood. ¡°Boreas, what are you doing?¡± a screaming voice yelled. ¡°He¡¯s just a baby.¡± Tom tried to stand, but couldn¡¯t, and then he was suddenly being held by strong arms. The arms of a woman. Healing magic flooded through him. ¡°Sorry, mum. He struck first. Head butted my knee and hit me in the balls.¡± ¡°He did, Miss Maurice,¡± Arnali said respectively. ¡°I saw it myself.¡± Tom found himself being placed on the ground. ¡°You poor brave boy.¡± She was hovering over him. ¡°Two broken ribs, and a shattered jaw. That¡¯s not a proportional response. How could you? Where are you going?¡± Maurice yelled. ¡°You don¡¯t control me, Mum. I don¡¯t have to listen to your lectures.¡± Boreas yelled over his shoulder as the three boys left the room at a full on sprint. Bir was still on the ground, crying. Ma was at the door, uninjured. Kang knelt to comfort the traumatised girl. Maurice left to follow her failure of a child, probably to berate him further. That was good enough for Tom. He had saved them, even if the unhinged fury that plagued him, an external wave of emotions that had to be a curse of some type, had almost cost him a victory. Then he remembered the fight. The knee, when he had struck it, had buckled, and made a distinct cracking noise. It had also forced the ring on Boreas¡¯ finger to activate. He guessed that meant he had broken the leg, and then the healing artefact had fixed it. But how? How had his four-year-old body done that much damage to someone so much older? Maybe there was something to unleashing blind rage in combat, he thought with a wry smile. Maybe he had missed his calling as a berserker. Then he assessed his life experience. No, a cool head was what won fights. This alien anger that consumed him¡­ it was dangerous. He had to do something to get it under control. Chapter 50.1 – Spells through Combat. The reoccurrence of that anger, the curse or the blessing or whatever it was, troubled him. Two full days had passed, and Tom found himself obsessing over it still. He knew that was stupid. Logic told him that there was nothing he could do to solve the issue, so stressing about it achieved nothing. Once he had access to his actual system room, specifics would become available, but for now all he could do was guess. Tom thought he understood how it worked. When something he perceived as an injustice took place, it caused a rage, overwhelming his self-control. As far as mental effects went, that capability spoke to its potency and strength. He knew himself from the years he had spent in the tutorial,. A minor curse could not overwhelm his iron self-control. But there was more to it than just that. He remembered how Boreas¡¯ knee had buckled. Because it felt weirdly relevant, he focused on the skill Santories had given him, and on the reasons for it having been awarded. Once, Tom¡¯s thoughtless comment had provoked a chain of events leading to him betraying the chosen, then them breaking their trust with him, and Tom, in turn, trying to save them. Ultimately, unseen cultural gulfs between the two species had been responsible for what had occurred. He remembered how the smallest had been willing to sacrifice itself. Tom swallowed and brushed away tears. That memory, of the smallest¡¯s bravery, it was not something he wanted to remember. It was a tragedy, and one he was not proud of, but when the GOD had gifted him what it had, it had come from a place of gratitude. It had been intended as a blessing, but one that was a classic double-edged sword. Yes, the skill he had gained stopped him from making social blunders. This property had been very useful during the first contact with other species, but the silences it enforced were often embarrassing, and also damaging when they occurred at the wrong time in front of others. This fury felt similar. He had broken Boreas¡¯ knee. That, as Tom knew from years of hitting things, was not something a small child like him should have been able to do. Not when Boreas¡¯s vitality had been two or more times greater than his own strength. Sure, the all-consuming rage had forced him to disregard worries such as the chance of harming himself, and so he had struck with his head to extract absolutely every bit of potential possible out of his body. But even then, that should not have been enough to do that amount of damage. Kang was fifty percent heavier than him, and he wouldn¡¯t be capable of that. Both of them should have bounced off and left a bruise at most, not shattered it like his head had. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Tom told himself. It was an issue he needed to watch, but obsessing over it would achieve nothing. Weeks passed, and all too soon he found himself in the trial once again. April was sitting across from him, frowning. She was not happy at his latest request. ¡°Tom, are you sure? This isn¡¯t how normal people go about things.¡± ¡°I need to improve.¡± ¡°You¡¯re asking me to murder you.¡± ¡°Not murder. It¡¯s a challenge, and it¡¯s under a GOD¡¯s shield, and I hadn¡¯t made any progress for weeks. For over a month, in fact.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± she looked puzzled. ¡°That¡¯s not true. You¡¯ve told me about the bone spells and the muscle mending.¡± ¡°It¡¯s too slow. Please, help me. I need this.¡± ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.¡± The caf¨¦ faded away, and he found himself standing in the same clearing he had appeared in originally. There was plenty of room to fight here, with a circle of trees surrounding him. That was a terrain feature that could provide something to stand back-to-back with or to use as obstacles against some monsters. For this fight, though, it weren¡¯t going to be a factor. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. He glanced around, wondering absently about what kind of monster April was going to send against him. Something flashed past, and there was a stinging pain on his cheek. It happened so fast. Possibly too fast. April had delivered exactly what he had asked for. Even as he followed the creature¡¯s movement by spinning on the spot, he released his fate with an image of a sideways evolution that acted constantly, as opposed to one that only applied when the spell was being actively cast. The monster was no bigger than his fist. Tom¡¯s fingers touched his own cheek, and came away red with blood. April had delivered both parts of his request. A glint of silver flared up as the creature swooped for him once more. He leapt out of the way, but he was way too slow. The injury was on his arm this time, and the surrounding cloth went red instantly, so that he was forced to heal that cut immediately. This opponent felt overwhelming, but he couldn¡¯t be mad at April. This was what he had asked for. But it was faster than he had imagined. Was it really only rank two? He started spinning his spear like one would a quarter staff. This was his attempt to create a shield of moving wood in front of himself. The monster came at him again and again, and the spear spinning too fast to be followed didn¡¯t even deter it. The creature was quick enough to dodge through the pseudo-barrier he was creating and score more cuts on him. Luckily, each slice was only slightly larger than a paper cut, even if the creature¡¯s magic made it bleed like a much more substantial wound. His blood flowed as it struck with impunity. The flow of mana from his precognition skill was the only thing that was allowing him to survive. For what must have been the hundredth time in this fight, he cast Heal Cut, and then followed it up with his latest attempt at Replenish Blood. There was a ding. Tom kept fighting. The creature that felt like a ball of razor blades came at him again. His spear, the spear he had been forced to spin so fast he was on the verge of losing control at any moment, did what it had done every other time, and scared it away. It adjusted and made a circle to strike him from behind. He couldn¡¯t turn quickly enough, and he felt it fly past his side, leaving stinging cuts. It was too quick. April had warned him, but he didn¡¯t think it was going to be this bad. As always, the monster caused an unnatural tug on his blood, and the wounds leaked far more gore in the two seconds it took for him to heal than they should have. It came again and again. There had been a ding, which was good. He had merged the spells as planned, but he was beginning to think that requesting a rank two monster focused on speed had been a mistake. With a thought, he healed the latest cuts and used his new magic to replace the lost blood. It went through his defences once more, this time slicing into his eyebrow. Blood trickled into his eyes before he could close the cut. Tom cursed. This was so frustrating. The monster he was fighting was not that dangerous. If he had lightning magic, the fight would already be over, but it felt like, with his current body, winning was impossible. He persisted. This was not a battle of equals. Tom was an overwhelming force of nature in the fight. He only had to land one blow to finish it. At the same time, the monster¡¯s win condition was to land ten thousand cuts, to dice him up until skill exhaustion cut off the flow of the precognition mana that was continuously patching him up. That failure, when it came, would signify a tipping point, beyond which his healing could no longer keep pace with his wounds. It was a battle plan Tom was used to, but normally the situation was reversed. Generally, it was Tom who was the gnat wearing down the physically superior opponent. One moment of luck was all that was needed, but there was no way he was wasting fate in a meaningless fight under a GOD¡¯s shield to actively cause it. His spear spun, and he saw the glint of metal coming from the side. Desperately, he thrust the spinning weapon at it and tried to increase the rotation speed. The weapon connected. Shock went through him. He hadn¡¯t thought he would ever touch it. But his glancing blow had made successful contact. His eyes traced the new trajectory of the creature. Its wings were no longer beating. If he was fast enough, he could intercept and kill it before it recovered. He didn¡¯t allow surprise to slow him down. He followed the unconscious monster and skewered it mid-air. With it dying on his spear for the first time, he could see it clearly. It was far closer to being a bird than he had expected, with two wings and the same body shape he was used to seeing. The only real difference was that the feathers resembled knives than they did the fluffy stuff that went into pillows. Still, this creature, unlike most monsters, was one that could have evolved from earth stock. The world dissolved, and he found himself sitting in the cafe across from an unhappy April. Chapter 50.2 – Spells through Combat. He surreptitiously checked his hands, and the blood was gone. The angel¡¯s expression changed. ¡°Despite your being a stupid masochist, I¡¯m guessing congratulations are in order. That¡¯s quite an evolution. A non-standard one, too. I¡¯m very impressed.¡± April handed him what looked like a menu, but wasn¡¯t. Instead, it listed the details of his new spell Blood Replenish. Spell: Blood Replenish ¨C Tier 0. At current levels, ten mana can regenerate a tenth of total blood volume. Sideways evolution 1. The amount you bleed from any cut is reduced by fifty percent. Tom whistled in response to that evolution. That was exactly what he wanted, and in many ways it was better than the active resistance spell that Purge Foreign Substance had granted him. Taking fifty percent longer to bleed out could save his life one day. ¡°That¡¯s better than expected. Do you think the favourable evolution is related to the circumstances in which I acquired it? Like, if I had that evolution before the fight, it would¡¯ve been a lot easier.¡± ¡°No. No.¡± She frowned. ¡°Maybe. But I¡¯m not facilitating that sort of craziness. Theoretically, life-and-death battles in here should be no different from training. I guess it¡¯s possible, if your brain believes hard enough, then you might get a slight combat bonus. It could be analogous to the phenomenon of tough trainers who occasionally kill their students obtaining better results.¡± Tom smiled. ¡°No. We¡¯re not doing this every week.¡± He just laughed. ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve explained the path to get Touch Heal. Just to ensure I don¡¯t accidentally kill myself, I¡¯ll be doing over half of them in here as it is. If being in a life-or-death situation gives me a bonus, I¡¯m not about to turn those down as well.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s about ones you can¡¯t do safely elsewhere, you can do them here. But no others!¡± Tom studied April. She was still annoyed with him for insisting on fighting a monster that was almost impossible for him to kill. The fact he had succeeded meant nothing, he knew, but there was an additional reason for why he had wanted to fight something fast. He had wanted April to gain a better understanding of his abilities, and this had been one way to give it to her. ¡°How far off the general combat four am I?¡± It was her turn to laugh. He scratched his ear. ¡°Is it really that bad?¡± ¡°Worse than you think. As you currently are, over half of all the rank four monsters will slaughter you. You¡¯re a long way off even getting near that ranking.¡± ¡°How about general combat two? Can I test out for that?¡± He figured that practising spear work against the weapon wielding gorilla lair below the orphanage would be helpful. They were rank three, but slow, and so Tom figured he would be able to take them. He would succeed even if lots of them attacked him at the same time. She shook her head. ¡°Not yet, but you¡¯re close to that threshold. It¡¯s very impressive. Most reincarnators don¡¯t get there until they¡¯re eight.¡± Tom stopped himself from getting excited by that admission. Any statistics April could tell him were out of date, and he doubted reincarnators fifteen years ago had the same amazing setup that he had available. ¡°That¡¯s significant. Their biological growth, has increased their attributes by fifty percent on average by then. Normal kids, even the prodigies, are further behind. They only reach that level after they¡¯ve turned ten, and by then they have doubled your current attributes.¡± She made an annoyed gesture. ¡°I meant the ones that aren¡¯t propped up by treasures. Those do better early, but stagnate later¡±. ¡°You know my build plans. When will those tools tip me over the edge?¡± She looked thoughtful. ¡°Spear mastery won¡¯t be enough; spear skills in general won¡¯t get you there, as your issue is speed. For combat rank two, Spark will probably push you to where you need to be. That¡¯s the one that tips you over. You get Spark, I can pretty much guarantee you¡¯ll cross that threshold.¡± ¡°And general combat four?¡± ¡°Maybe by age ten. Magic by itself won¡¯t take you far enough.¡± Tom grimaced at that blunt summary, and then he told her about Corinne¡¯s trait. ¡°If I add something like that, will that change anything? I want to get there by six.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll certainly close the largest gaps. It¡¯s possible, but I can¡¯t say for sure. Ultimately, it¡¯s the GODs that will assess you.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t sound very positive about my chances.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m not. Listen Tom, my role isn¡¯t about validating your feelings, it¡¯s about giving you proper advice. I¡¯m not sure you understand how unrealistic what you¡¯re trying to achieve is. Do you really think you¡¯re a one-in-a-trillion talent?¡± ¡°Probably not, but Corrine¡¯s not one, either.¡± ¡°No, she¡¯s definitely not. But there¡¯s a sweet spot at age eleven for some humans. If they go through their growth spurt in time, that is. Corrine hit that with that trait.¡± ¡°And you don¡¯t believe I can compete down lower?¡± She raised both her eyebrows to illustrate her derision at that thought. ¡°You¡¯re not properly comprehending the scale of Existentia. When I say one in trillion, it¡¯s because there are only so many spots for that age group, probably sixteen. That¡¯s it! And there¡¯s over thirty trillion people competing for them. Do you understand how big a billion is, or a million, or even a thousand? For example, had you been the undisputed best in your starting group of eighty? Can you imagine being the best against the champion of a hundred similar groups, then doing that again and again? Do you really think you¡¯re that superior?¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°I get it,¡± Tom interrupted angrily. ¡°But I have to believe that I can make it. Besides, fate is powerful. Along with my years of experience, it gives me a chance, even against those odds.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to say it¡¯s impossible.¡± She paused, and her brows creased. ¡°Your progress to date has been impressive. But, Tom, it¡¯s not enough. You have to solve the speed problem. That¡¯s going to require a tailored trait, because I doubt you have the time to develop a biological or magical solution.¡± ¡°Dimitri¡¯s already said that he won¡¯t give me a trait.¡± ¡°Then you have to find someone else to do it. They would also have to put out feelers fast, because a suitable trait might not come up for months.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have that option. I¡¯m a proper orphan. I don¡¯t have not-parents.¡± ¡°Some orphans have old friends of their parents who might help. Do you have anything like that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t, or, at least, I have no memories of anything like that.¡± ¡°The other option is people from your old life.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not safe.¡± ¡°But if it¡¯s important enough? Then you run the risk, don¡¯t you?¡± Tom was about to argue, but stopped himself when he realised she might be right. ¡°If I run into one of them.¡± He said finally. ¡°I¡¯ll think about asking. It¡¯s just that I can¡¯t judge how risky such contact will be.¡± They dropped the difficult conversation and chatted instead about the insignificant details of Tom¡¯s time in the tutorial while he finished his coffee, and then she sent him back to the wood growth room. He had been improving. As usual, branches grew from the wall from random spots and angles. Methodically, he shaped them into a cocoon around him, as well as killing all signs of life in the wood closest to him. Then, when the three minutes mark ticked by, the intensity of wood¡¯s energy ramped up and buds began to sprout from everywhere, even from the previously dead cocoon around him. He killed them when he could, but he missed one and the branch rapidly grew to be as big as one of his arms. It took a significant amount of concentration to break it off, and the buds elsewhere grew uncontrollably while he was distracted. It became a chain reaction of failures that he couldn¡¯t keep pace with. His carefully carved-out space vanished under the surge of randomised expansion. Everything reset, and he started again. Tom could feel the progress, but he figured he was still weeks away from mastering the skill. After four sessions in the growth pod, he was moved to watch the shadow figure show him the spear kata. As had been happening more and more frequently, April showed him an abridged version containing only the movements he hadn¡¯t mastered. The session took only a third of the time that it used to take, and then he was sent into the next fight. Given the kata snippets he had been shown, he wasn¡¯t surprised his opponents were aerial monsters. He spun, leapt, pirouetted, and tried to duplicate some of the more fanciful moves of those he had just observed. He left the trial, and, three days later, after another boring reading session, Dimitri trooped in with a line of adult volunteers following him. The large man stood at the head of the class. ¡°Everyone, it¡¯s been three months. It¡¯s time for another assessment.¡± Panic flared across the room. Some wore scared expressions. One girl ducked under the table, but no one attempted to run. The gathered adults were enough to dissuade such action. ¡°Split into five groups, and then we¡¯ll escort you to the testing room.¡± Tom ended up in one of the larger isolation rooms with seven other kids. Courtesy of carefully positioning, both him and Kang managed to be at the back of the group, which would let them go last. Corrine wasn¡¯t taking this session. Instead, it was a black teenager who was probably already six feet tall. Their tester had a sad look on his face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we have to do this. I¡¯ll try to be as gentle as I¡¯m allowed to be.¡± The first volunteer was pointed at and tested in the same format that Corrine had done. He let the girl attack him for two minutes, and then went on offensive. ¡°Show me something.¡± He ordered, lifting a single foot threateningly. She couldn¡¯t. He kicked out, and she fell down, screaming. Tom shut his eyes and focused on the realities of Existentia. This was necessary to help them grow to get the skills to survive. This was not a case of the orphanage acting unfairly, this was the opposite. They had to do it to teach children how to survive the harsh, unforgiving world that existed outside these walls. It barely helped. The girl healed herself using the crystal, and, while escorting her out of the room, the teenager bowed to her. ¡°Well-fought. Work harder and show something special next time.¡± The next boy went, and Tom used a brief burst of Dampen Senses for when the kick and healing occurred. The third chose a hammer, and then, with a face that made him look constipated, struck the trainer with it. There was a glimmer of blue, but the teenager blocked it effortlessly with the palm of his hand. ¡°A skill. Impressive. How did you acquire it?¡± The boy hesitated and lowered the heavy practice hammer, so its head rested on the ground. ¡°Was it from a not-parent?¡± The kid refused to answer. ¡°Was it a skill crystal?¡± ¡°No. Mum showed.¡± He froze¡­ ¡°Um¡­ No. I didn¡¯t do anything wrong.¡± ¡°Not a crystal, then? A natural treasure?¡± The boy clammed up, obviously realising that he had already said too much. The trainer raised his leg up the way he had when he had kicked the other two. ¡°You haven¡¯t impressed me yet.¡± He said in a warning tone. The distressed child licked his lips. There was panic on his face. ¡°It was a room and magic stone. Lots of hammer imprints, like someone hit it lots. No, I won¡¯t tell you. They told me not to tell.¡± ¡°They were na?ve,¡± the trainer said as he lowered his foot. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t have done that. Still, I¡¯m impressed. You can go.¡± The next girl failed as well. Bir stood up, and, rather than grabbing a weapon, she filled up a mug from the tap. The trainer stepped back, suddenly wary about where this was going. ¡°Getting me wet won¡¯t achieve anything.¡± She threw the cup of water at his face. Panic flashed across it, and the teenager tried to jump backwards, but it was a good throw. He waved his hands to try to intercept all the water, but it was futile. A couple of drops splashed across his face. The boy winced, and then raised his fingers to the damaged cheek. A green glow radiated out to spread over the spots the water touched. ¡°Razor water,¡± he summarised quietly. ¡°You¡¯ve impressed me. You can go.¡± Then it was just him and Kang left and, being closest, Tom went forward and grabbed a hammer. ¡°Please, be merciful,¡± he said and reached out to grab the boy¡¯s hand. The tall kid looked more than a little confused about Tom¡¯s actions, but before he could pull back Tom successfully grabbed his hand. There was no spark between them. He was not a reincarnator. ¡°Sorry,¡± Tom muttered sheepishly and picked up his chosen weapon that he had dropped. Then he channelled as much aggression while keeping his form into his attacks. He effortlessly dodged the blows. ¡°Show me something.¡± There was no way he was going to switch to casting his healing magic, so he kept swinging his hammer. ¡°It glows sometimes. It does.¡± Tom lied, figuring that¡¯s what a kid in his position would do. ¡°Show it.¡± It was clear the trainer did not believe him. Tom obviously couldn¡¯t. The kick, when it came, slammed into his thigh just like it had with everyone else. It felt like being hit by a gwanta tail. His leg collapsed, and he crashed to the ground, releasing an involuntary whimper. Then, despite how the juvenile him would have reacted, Tom stood and limped to the healing crystal. He needed to bring his behaviour closer to how his adult mind reacted to things. The days of pretending to be overwhelmed by pain were behind him. The healing crystal finished its work, and he left Kang to his fate. He wasn¡¯t sure if the other boy planned to pass or not, but for Tom, failing this test was worthwhile. For now, he wanted to remain firmly in the middle of the pack. Chapter 51.1 – Living Wood As he often did when he entered the isolation room, Tom paused once the doors clicked shut and briefly browsed the ¡®Current Events¡¯ folder. He was interested in the crystal slime project¡¯s progress, even if the results continued to be disappointing. As his eyes scanned down the ranking list, he almost dropped the folder in shock. Humans had dropped in the ranking. They were now sixth instead of fifth. Wador was above them still, basically within touching distance, but¡­ It couldn¡¯t be true. It was ridiculous, but it was written in plain black ink in front of him, the evidence of the change. Somehow, the inventors had shot up the ladder. They were only four million off third. Additional notes: That last point set Tom¡¯s mind on edge. While the chosen and the inventors had been locked into seventh and sixth places respectively, humans had only needed to beat the wador to get out of the catastrophic zone, and then either the giants or insects to reach third place. However, if the inventors ended up being a real contender and were contesting top place, that totally changed the calculations. They would have to beat three of the four species that Tom had assumed would be competitive. The threat of the dragon and insects was self-explanatory. They were the clear front runners, and even having suffered the penalties they had, they were still fifty million ahead. This gap, Tom confirmed when he checked his memory, had only grown since the first time he had seen these numbers. Catching them felt like an insurmountable task, but if that analyst¡¯s point was accurate, the inventors might end up beating them. It was beyond depressing, but he comforted himself by looking at the raw point values as opposed to positions. Under that lens, humans were only twenty-five million from third place. While the engineering of the river to kill the crystal slimes had failed, there were other projects that would hopefully gain more than enough to cross the divide. ¡°Nope.¡± Tom said out loud. ¡°That doesn¡¯t work for me.¡± Relying on others and having faith that things would work out okay was not good enough for him. He put the folder away and went to work. All he could control was his own actions and, for now, that meant working hard. Two weeks later, he was back in the trial, and he was excited. Today, he hoped to convince April to set up a combat scenario that would help him merge Cell Division and Growth, Localised Paralysis, and Circulatory Rebuild together into Heal Muscle. Tom wasn¡¯t sure what the best type of monster to push the proposed spell would look like, but he was sure that April would have suggestions. He appeared next to the lake, which was not what he wanted. ¡°Meeting,¡± he yelled out. ¡°Can we have a meeting first.¡± The world froze, broke apart, and then he was seated at the caf¨¦ with the angel across from him as usual. ¡°Hi, April,¡± he said happily. She didn¡¯t respond and instead waited patiently for him to get to the crux of why he had asked to meet her. ¡°You know what happened two weeks ago?¡± He hedged. ¡°No, I¡¯m not doing it today.¡± Tom ignored the hostility, as he was expecting it. ¡°I was hoping to do something similar today. But don¡¯t worry, this isn¡¯t like Blood Replenish. I¡¯ve been struggling to progress this in the real world. I need to do it here, or else it is too dangerous.¡± He was exaggerating a little, but figured it wouldn¡¯t matter. ¡°No, I won¡¯t support that.¡± She smiled. ¡°Crafting is more important.¡± Tom looked at her in confusion. She wasn¡¯t outright rejecting him - rather talking cross-purposes. ¡°Why are we worried about that? I¡¯ve been making steady progress. In a couple of weeks, it¡¯ll be done.¡± ¡°No, you need to shift your priorities, and you¡¯re closer to getting the skills than you think. Last week, you were starting to create growth instead of only redirecting what I was supplying.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°That¡¯s great, and we¡¯ll keep the training up. But I¡¯m ready to evolve Heal Muscle, and I want to do it today.¡± She was grinning. She definitely knew something she wasn¡¯t sharing yet. Mentally, Tom began to adjust his priorities. If she was pushing for something, it was worth for him to embrace it fully. If she thought something was in his interest, then it was. Nevertheless, he wasn¡¯t about to let her get her way without at least some push back. The situation called for a small amount of belligerence. ¡°We have to do this today.¡± ¡°No Tom, you¡¯re not listening. I won¡¯t support it. The attempt needs to wait. Today your fate pool has to go into gaining the living wood skill. You¡¯ll take too long, otherwise¡± ¡°Are you sure? Because I¡¯m beating the estimated timelines you gave me initially.¡± ¡°If you want to reach general combat four, you¡¯ll need to gain multiple spear skills before you turn six, which is less than a year away.¡± Tom hadn¡¯t even realised he had turned five, as individual birthdays weren¡¯t celebrated. He had kind of known, but hadn¡¯t cared. The more important milestone was the naming ceremony, where the entire cohort chose their names. The secondary context of what she was saying got through. ¡°Wait, are you actually on board with helping me?¡± ¡°Of course I am. This,¡± she waved her hand. ¡°This is because an idea just occurred to me and I ran a whole host of simulations to ensure it wasn¡¯t erroneous. I¡¯ve basically compared human natural biological growth to the guidelines for the divine champion trial. The most likely time to get selected remains at eleven, like with Corrine, but there is another window just before you turn six in earth years. I¡¯ve also compared your rate of skill acquisition as well as the level of spells and skills in previous lives, and from that I estimated how long it will take you to develop. What all that shows is that in the trial, concentrating on skills is better than on spells.¡± He grinned. ¡°If you can get me into that trial, I¡¯m happy to take guidance. What do you want me to do?¡± ¡°Tom, I¡¯m not guaranteeing you anything. There is nothing in your build plan to solve the speed issue at least short-term. Before eleven, there are both spells and skills that can help.¡± ¡°How about the six threshold?¡± he leaned forward, suddenly excited. ¡°Can I develop them before then?¡± She snorted. ¡°Not unless you produce even more ridiculous talent than you¡¯ve already shown. You¡¯ve got no chance. Unless¡­¡± April paused, a look of excitement on her face. ¡°If you can tap into the community fate that¡¯s being produced, that might speed you up enough. Presuming you¡¯re the best prospect, it won¡¯t even need to be targeted at you specifically. Something general, like helping children get into the divine champion¡¯s trial, is all you¡¯ll need. If thirty per cent of the town¡¯s fate would be directed toward that aim, maybe fifty in case Corrine takes some of it¡­ That should speed your progress up enough.¡± Tom whistled in appreciation. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s genius.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a strategy that puts a lot of humans¡¯ eggs into that one basket. It¡¯s really dangerous, but if the situation is as dire as you¡¯ve told me last week, then it might be a good gamble.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m an egg? An egg that can get broken easily?¡± ¡°You¡¯re an egg, and you can get whisked and scrambled by a passing assassin or just bad luck. That fifty percent fate isn¡¯t being wasted. If it goes to you and your party, you¡¯ll need to repay humanity for that, and that¡¯s risky, because you¡¯re still a kid. For them to get anything from the investment, you would have to survive until you¡¯re an adult. The facts are, you currently have no levels and no strength. Anyone can kill you. You¡¯ll have to earn half a million points just to break even. How are you going to do that?¡± ¡°Kill the dragons, slay the insect queens, and probably challenge some world-level boss monsters.¡± She briefly lowered her head into her hands, a pained expression on her face. ¡°You say that so glibly. Do you know how many world-level monsters humanity has slain? Or how many dragons?¡± Tom had no choice but to shake his head. ¡°The information I can share is fifteen years out of date, but I think it¡¯s likely that there¡¯s been no appetite for these kinds of aspirational conquests in the intervening years. They cost too many lives. To answer my own question, a single dragon has been killed, and that was by your team.¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°Probably a bad example. It was a group effort, and the giant delivered the killing blow.¡± ¡°Yes, and it was resurrected, but it was still slain. As for the world bosses, there had been three attempts by humans. Two failed, costing fifty and a hundred and twenty lives, respectively. A single one was successful, and even that cost seventy lives. Worse, that kill only yielded a million experience. Are you seeing now why you might struggle to get Dimitri to go down this path?¡± ¡°But what is the community using the fate for?¡± ¡°Safety and crafting projects,¡± April answered immediately. ¡°Again, my information is out of date, but using it lowered attrition rates by seventy percent in town-controlled areas.¡± Tom was flabbergasted by that statement. It implied the town wasn¡¯t safe, which, given the walls and the defences, was weird. ¡°Why would there be so many deaths?¡± ¡°It is Existentia. This town is a formal settlement, but the surrounding land hasn¡¯t been claimed. Monsters test the walls often. As for the crafting fate, that¡¯s estimated to support half of the ranking points contributed by crafters.¡± ¡°That can¡¯t be much more than a hundred thousand a year.¡± ¡°It¡¯s likely two for this town, but.¡± She raised a single finger. ¡°That¡¯s a guaranteed contribution, while expecting the experience to pay off is a huge gamble.¡± ¡°Fair enough. But one thing you¡¯re probably not factoring in is that I had an agreement that I¡¯d only get resurrected if I could change things. Even if I don¡¯t get into the trial, I¡¯m determined to keep up my faith in that fact. I will find a way to make a difference. I¡¯m going to continue placing one foot after another and worry about the big stuff later. For now, my only focus is getting stronger.¡± ¡°Good. Then send your fate towards getting the wood growth skill.¡± ¡°Done,¡± he reported after a moment¡¯s thought. April¡¯s training started immediately as he was teleported away from the cafe. There were no fun fights against bloodthirsty monsters. The thrill of battle was denied to him, as was the moment when his heartrate would spike and his focus would condense into a gem-like intensity in order for him to survive. Unfortunately, none of this happened. Instead, he was put into the standard growing room with the rate of expansion having been made more aggressive. Tom adjusted to the new challenge and pushed the half-formed skill harder. There was a ding. Chapter 51.2 – Living Wood Of course, there was. He shouldn¡¯t have been surprised that April knew what she was doing. Almost immediately, the scenario fell apart, and a new one was constructed. Rather than being free, he was bound by metal strips, a host of plants surrounding him. Then a pulse of growth energy flowed through them, and he wondered what he was supposed to do. That was until he sensed the monsters moving towards him and breaking grass stems as they did. Tom sought to protect himself from the incoming, terribly slow monsters. It was easy, as all the previous months of practice had taught him how to create shells of wood to surround him. But the available energy was reduced. It became a challenge not to die, and he failed regularly. The monsters were some sort of slow reptilian rat creature, and they kept coming relentlessly. He died almost as often as he stopped them. There was another ding, and his head started to swim with the effort that the continuous use of skills was putting him under. The rats became slower, but the stores of growth energy that he was tapping into reduced alarmingly. There wasn¡¯t anywhere near enough power. The days of a solid shell were gone. The best he could do now was creating a hedge of spikes to stop them approaching. He lost half a foot before he was fully protected. His Blood Replenishment spell meant he was never in any real danger, and Heal Cut closed the wound, even if doing so in any other circumstances would have been a mistake. When under a GOD shield, preserving tissue to allow proper regrowth later wasn¡¯t a consideration. He triaged the wound, and then, with the help of the very occasional pulse of growth energy, he hunted the two creatures that had eaten him and happily killed them. Everything reset. It was the same scenario as before, but he reacted faster this time. The rat things didn¡¯t get close enough to take a nibble. The configuration changed. There was even less old growth around him that could be redirected to form a barrier now. He died twice before his skill grew sufficiently to stop the attack. Another change occurred. He was in a jumble of dead wood. There was nothing living nearby him. Panic surged. He had to build his wooden cage to protect himself. He knew the rats were coming. But there was no living wood around him. It was dead to all senses but those of his new skill. Deep within the wood, he could feel the life, the cells that had shut down and were in hibernation. That was enough. The monsters were approaching, so he focused. It hurt to do so, but being eaten alive hurt even worse. The near-dead wood responded. There was a ding. He started twisting the wood, growing sections to bend the stiff sticks down in the direction he wanted. The world shivered. Tom found himself in the caf¨¦. It was like the last time. His senses were all over the place. Nausea swelled within him and he vomited. It tasted disgusting, but the substance vanished the moment it touched the ground, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee didn¡¯t disappear. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He sighed and looked across the table toward April. There were multiple angels sitting there. He blinked. Now there was two. Every heartbeat was like the beat coming through a sub-woofer. On the table in front of him there were six¡­ no, that wasn¡¯t right: there were only two wooden bracelets. One was constructed of dark wood and filled with life, while the other was made of a white higher-tiered wood, but it was dead. With the way he was feeling, he dreaded what she was going to make him do. Any skill use now would only make everything worse. He glanced up at April, she briefly split into two before consolidating back to a single person, admittedly a blurry one. ¡°What do I do with them?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± she giggled. ¡°I was just playing a prank.¡± They vanished from his vision, and then his hands were holding a thick mug. ¡°Drink that.¡± It was some form of warm apple cider with lots of honey. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was alcoholic or not, but it tasted medicinal in a nice kind of way. He drank it, enjoying every sip. April said nothing as he recovered, and then passed a folder across to him. Skill: Living Wood Growth ¨C Tier 2 You are able to make wooden plants grow to your desired specifications. Sideways Evolution 1. You¡¯re able to find a seed of life even in wood that others would assume is long dead. ¡°It¡¯s tier-two.¡± He said, zeroing in on the key information and ignoring the sideways evolution. At a glance, it was clear that it was a very niche advantage at best. He wasn¡¯t sure he would ever use it in the outside world. Here, in the trial, the situation might be different, because he had a suspicion that April had been driving for him to receive this capability. He suspected it would somehow help him to improve his value add. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re an overachiever.¡± He glanced down at the second slab of text. Title: Underage Skill Development (II) - Upgradable - Grants 1 free attribute point every four levels. His head made it hard to concentrate. ¡°My title upgraded.¡± ¡°Yes, you got four points because the new skill was tier 2.¡± ¡°It¡¯s still only uncommon.¡± ¡°Because anyone who puts effort into it can get this.¡± ¡°Um, maybe,¡± he stopped talking for a moment, unable to continue the thought as he swallowed the bile that came up. ¡°What do I do now? I¡¯m clearly suffering skill exhaustion. Does that mean the rest of today is wasted?¡± ¡°Um... you¡¯re partially right, we can¡¯t have you doing any skill work, that¡¯s for sure, but I¡¯m happy for you to do magic practice.¡± ¡°How will I accomplish that? I only know healing, and I need wounds to advance it. Maybe I can fight with a hammer or something?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know if practicing with a hammer is a good use of your time. As for how are you going to do that¡­ Well, for a start, that drink was poisoned. You wanted to work on your Heal Muscles spell, didn¡¯t you? Unless you fix it within fifteen minutes, your heart will fail, and then, even if you solve that problem a few minutes later, the muscles that let you breathe will likewise go.¡± With a curse, he set to work. The setup was a great opportunity, apart from one very significant factor. ¡°I can¡¯t do this. I don¡¯t have fate to optimise.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Then avoid doing it perfectly. Don¡¯t worry, only this one is targeting muscles. For future poisons, I¡¯ll guide you through the spell forms to fix the different failing organs.¡± The folder that he recognised from the isolation room appeared in front of him. The idea of doing any studying caused his nausea to surge. He turned away from the table and threw up. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy this.¡± She declared, and then pretended to crackle manically. He smiled and then put her out of his mind as felt the first twinge of damage to his muscles. A single point of mana into Purge Foreign Substance told him that he could use it to deal with the problem, but he resisted the temptation and set about practicing healing through the continuous poison damage like April intended. When he got into the trial a week later, he went to the caf¨¦. ¡°It¡¯s now time to acquire the final skill you need before you can start carving. This is easier.¡± She waved her hand, and a bracelet appeared on the table. Then it grew until it had a diameter of a metre and a half. ¡°This,¡± April said after a long pause. ¡°Is the ritual that will underpin a danger sense bracelet. All you have to do is to take this design, imprint it on a wooden circlet, and empower it with your precognition mana.¡± There must have been ten thousand different wires, all of them creating different geometrical shapes. Tom was used to seeing Harry¡¯s rituals, and this was a level more complicated. His mouth opened, and he stared at what she was proposing in shock. He had to duplicate all of that in miniature. Chapter 52.1 – Lair Curiosity Tom frowned at the incredibly complicated twirls of wire in front of him. He could only think one thing: how was he supposed to duplicate this in miniature? April beamed at him. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a lot more complex than the rituals you¡¯re used to. But there¡¯s a good explanation for that,¡± she added hurriedly, likely responding to the growing annoyance on Tom¡¯s face. ¡°When a ritualist creates their rituals, most of the work is actually being done behind the scenes by how they infuse the magic. For this bracelet, all the functions have to be captured by physical representation. That includes the link to the wearer, the casting of the specific danger sense spell, and the parameters for it to run under. That¡¯s why it¡¯s so intricate.¡± ¡°Then what¡¯s the point of the precognition skills?¡± ¡°They power everything. Without them, the artefact would have been only a fifth as powerful. Listen, I know this is hard to follow.¡± She flicked her fingers, and the spell form of Heal Muscle appeared above the bracelet, glowing in the air. ¡°You recognise this, right?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a simplified three-dimensional representation, but you know that it¡¯s actually a four-dimensional construct, courtesy of the...¡± She nodded at the folder. ¡°And of the experience you have of actually casting it.¡± She clicked her fingers again, and then suddenly almost a hundred of the wireframes appeared. ¡°That is basically what the entire spell looks like when you strive to capture all four dimensions. For a ritualist,¡± she clicked her fingers once more, and the hundred wire frames collapsed first into a single three-dimensional model, and then again into a two-dimensional one. ¡°That¡¯s what they draw. The other two dimensions are captured in how they infuse the magic. You definitely don¡¯t have the skill to do that, so you need to carve everything out. Instead of this,¡± she nodded at the two-dimensional diagram. ¡°You actually need to create this.¡± Once more, a hundred wire frames were displayed. Tom shook his head. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t make sense. Crafters don¡¯t do this. They enchant closer to how ritualists do it¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct. If they had to physically engrave everything, they¡¯d never get anything done. Instead, they have a wide variety of specialised skills and spells to effectively duplicate what ritualists do. Listen, crafting properly is easy to do if you can buy the supporting spells and skills straight from the experience shop. But it¡¯s almost impossible to craft like that if you have to develop your supporting skills yourself. This only works if you carve out the long form design.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me I need to memorise this and imprint it on wood?¡± Tom scratched his head. ¡°Any advice on how to do that?¡± ¡°Practice and repetition make perfect.¡± ¡°I meant on a technical level.¡± She smiled. ¡°When you¡¯re tense like this, you¡¯re way too easy to tease.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s too easy, don¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no fun in that. But to answer your question, I¡¯ve seen it done lots of ways. Best practice is to use a mana-sensitive wood, create the ritual framework out of that, and then grow a harder, magic-resistant wood to cover it up perfectly. But while the skill you got is awesome, that level of control is probably beyond you. Instead, I¡¯ll get you to take an existing bracelet and magically change the lines of wood to create the physical representation. It won¡¯t produce a super high-quality product, but it¡¯ll satisfy the GOD¡¯s shop.¡± Tom stared despairingly at what he had to create. He couldn¡¯t imagine carving this, even if he was efficient. If this is what he had to do, each bracelet would take a few hours to process. ¡°There has to be a shortcut, surely.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Not really. The physical representation can be created by voids. I¡¯ve seen people do it and then push a heated resin through all the holes to fill the null spaces. That method is about twice as fast, but you¡¯ll need to learn a new skill to duplicate it, which will, in turn, cost you three months. And the final product is not as good. Once you¡¯re practiced with the technique, you¡¯ll be able to produce bracelets of sufficient quality to sell it to the GOD¡¯s shop, of course, but that¡¯s another month or two lost while you get up to speed. It¡¯s just not worth it.¡± With a dismayed look, he stared down at the complex patterns the metal made. ¡°This will be painful.¡± He muttered. In a way, he almost wished the training for this was as brutal as that for the other two skills. While bits of it had hurt, that was more interesting, to be honest, than sitting on a chair doing this shit. ¡°I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t think for a moment that crafting was going to be easy, did you?¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t,¡± he admitted. A plain bracelet of tier-one wood appeared on the table. He picked it up and then slowly he got to work, duplicating the metal pattern in front of him. He could get lost in the process on occasions, but, just like he had always suspected, crafting wasn¡¯t fun, and was almost always frustrating. Despite his Living Wood Growth skill gain, he left dispirited. As each trial day approached, he found himself dreading it. The fighting remained fun, but the training to create danger sense bracelets was just annoying. Another month passed as he was focusing on the magic and the physical games outside the trial and the skills within it. His exploration of the bat lair also became a routine. He would sneak out of bed, duck into the supply room, grab a couple of antidotes and a healing potion, as well as his trusty daggers, and then leave. Twice the bell rang while he was in the supply room, and, as Dimitri had cautioned, he hid in one of the alcoves. It went smoothly. Then, having gathered all the materials he needed, he would go down the gently sloping tunnel until he got to the lair. Then he would get ready to enter. For the same reason that he had stopped collecting the armour, he stripped off his standard top because of its high defensive values. Ultimately, he was here to develop his precognition skills, and donning armour worked against that aim. He had to be at risk to force a faster progression. April had made it clear that, if he wanted into the divine trial, he had to push hard at everything. Then, shoeless, topless, wearing just his pants and carrying two daggers, he entered the lair proper. As the pungent odour assaulted his nose, Tom relaxed. The lair was familiar. With Dampen Senses dialled up to seventy percent level, he walked into the lair confidently. Without his top, it was uncomfortably cold, and it felt nothing like the first few times he had come down here. He tried to make himself walk randomly, to little avail. He suspected that he must have memorised the tunnel layout subconsciously, because he rarely ran into walls, and the occasional natural step was handled easily. As he walked, he concentrated on how he felt. Every now and again, he would move randomly, because you never knew when a bat was lurking. The movement was usually a quick sidestep or an elaborate slash with one or both daggers. He was over two minutes in and hadn¡¯t been attacked yet. The bats were usually more responsive, and he was starting to wonder if maybe another group was already in the lair and killing bats ahead of him. Randomly, he swung an arm, and the knife slammed into something soft. He winced as its teeth sunk into his knuckle. Despite that, Tom smiled. He could imagine the bat squawking in pain as it attempted to comprehend what had happened. How did its oblivious prey lash out at exactly the wrong time, when it was committed to an attack run? He wondered if it understood anything other than the fact that it was dying. He flicked his wrist, and it went flying off the blade. If his hearing hadn¡¯t been suppressed, Tom would have heard it thump into a wall, or maybe to the ground if the toss was down a tunnel. It didn¡¯t matter; the knife had gone through the centre of its mass. It was dead. It had, unfortunately, also tagged him, and he was bleeding. However, thanks to his useful sideways evolution, it was a trickle, only a couple of droplets spread across the wounds. He wasn¡¯t sure it was helpful, but he spent a point of fate, conjuring up in his mind an image of his natural blood clotting speeding up. Then he focused on manipulating that sideways evolution to make it do more and actively seal up the small puncture wounds. There was no mana involved in the process, but he had vague hopes of it leading him to develop a trait like Resilient Body, or help him get Regeneration. He knew both of those were possible, but wasn¡¯t sure of how to force their development beyond spell evolutions. Something like that would have to wait until after he had Touch Heal at least. Chapter 52.2 – Lair Curiosity He kept walking and there were very few bats that he killed before they landed a blow. Most were still getting at least ten strikes in before he got lucky and killed them. That might have been the start of a skill, or just the natural result of him learning how to fight the bats. Tom suspected it was the latter. After all, he had been fighting them for a long enough time to gain an intuitive understanding of their movement patterns. It was easy to learn that if they were attacking his shoulder with each swoop, then, if he spun, they would do a hard turn rather than flying higher. Therefore, if he lashed out at chest height, he was likely to score a hit. The accumulation of all those little tricks and growing experience sped up the speed of eliminating the creatures. A wall ran into him. It targeted his knee, and he staggered backwards and fell clutching it. ¡°Idiot! Go slower,¡± he cursed at himself, knowing that he wasn¡¯t going to listen. The collision was bad because he hadn¡¯t run into anything for twenty minutes, which meant that he had started stretching out more. Less frequent, but higher intensity injuries were the natural result of his success. It didn¡¯t matter. Worrying about stuff like that wasn¡¯t helping him train. He got up and hobbled forward. Each step sent a jolt of agony through him. But the injury was to a bone, and he couldn¡¯t fix it. Short of using his healing potion, there was nothing to be done until he got out of here. Mentally, he turned around to trace his way back toward the exit. Every step hurt, but he kept going, occasionally waving his knives when he seemed to be alone, continuously when he knew one bat was nearby. All of his mastered spells were getting a workout, including Body Restore, which was the result of the merge of Blood Replenishment and Muscle Restore. While in practise he was only using the Blood Replenishment component of the more advanced spell, it was a more efficient version. He could hardly wait until he got Touch Heal and saw the efficiency improve back to the level that he was used to. Another bat attacked. It landed multiple bites on him before he sliced its wing off and then finished it where it was crawling on the ground. The accumulation of injuries, however, pushed him over the edge. His mana ran dry. Annoyed, he took an antidote potion and then kept going. There was nothing specific, but Tom froze, suddenly worried. Something was very wrong. His skin was crawling, the hair on the back of his neck rising. He focused, and everything screamed doom at him. It was like he was an acorn on a blacksmith¡¯s forge with the hammer descending, or a bicycle sandwiched in a collision between two semi-trailers, or, more scarily, being caught between the hands of GODs and being torn apart. It was bad. Terrible. Inevitable. His limbs locked, there were no signals to encourage him to move - just that unstoppable dread. Instinctively, he disconnected Dampen Senses, but he knew it was too little and that it was too late. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It was here. A force slammed into his back, far heavier than any bat attack he had experienced before. He tumbled forward, battle instincts taking over. Dropping Dampen Senses was not the trump card he had hoped for it to be. Somehow, the cave he was in was pitch-black. There was none of the slight glowing moss that he was used to seeing. The sound from his tumble echoed back. It informed him that he was in a massive pitch black underground cathedral. This was not somewhere he had been before. His brain chugged on and linked the clues, particularly the force the creature had struck him with. None of the possibilities were good. Without any further hesitation, mana flowed into the necklace resting against his throat. It activated. An emergency flare was sent out that would bring help, but Tom knew that it would take time for Dimitri to get here. Time that he didn¡¯t have. Adrenaline flooded into him, and he recognised the metaphorical precipice he stood next to. The risk of imminent death. Tom knew he hadn¡¯t given himself a choice, but he hated the risk he was taking. It was still out there. He rolled desperately to the side. There was a whoosh of wind from a nearby wingbeat. The downdraft was strong enough to ruffle the hair on his head. Just like he thought, it was big. He tried to follow where it was going. There was a ding, but Tom didn¡¯t care about it - he had other issues to deal with. The clarity of his senses let him partially track the creature. He could kind of feel where it was, but nothing definitive. It was just his brain linking sound, vibrations, and the swirling of the wind to track where it was. The lair had developed a boss monster. He was no longer fighting the small bats whose only real danger was their venom. This beast was significantly more powerful. Tom knew his lore. He understood what was happening. His subconscious screamed a warning, and he fell again and kissed the stone floor. He sensed it fly over his head, then he sprang back to his feet. It would adapt, and dodging by throwing himself to the ground would not work for long. What am I facing? He asked himself. The base bat was a swarm creature, and that knowledge let him estimate the strength and likely makeup of this opponent. It would be a different species, but still venomous to keep the theme, he realised in dismay. That meant he wouldn¡¯t be able to rely on the targeted antidote. There was a clattering of noise to his right. Instinctively, he glanced toward it and then realised it was just some stone falling. He tensed as his honed instincts screamed at him. For a moment, he had been distracted and hadn¡¯t been tracking the primary threat, and the beast had seized that opportunity to dive at him. It was almost on top of him now. He flinched sideways to avoid the bulk of the strike, but one of its talons dug across his shoulder blade. There was searing pain, and he felt the slight tug as a claw caught on bone before the bone gave way. It was too powerful. That cut was not a lethal one, but it was significant enough that back on Earth he would have been worried about it healing cleanly even with modern medicine. The implications of the encounter to the overall battle were worse still. That had been a glancing blow, and yet it had done so much damage. Tom didn¡¯t have a choice. He spent all of his remaining fate with the sole purpose of helping him to survive until Dimitri got here. As it spread out, the majority was burnt away, countering the existing fate that had been invisibly hanging around him. Alarm bells rang inside him. The monster had used offensive fate. No wonder it had gotten the drop on him. If he had attempted to ration his own fate, then what? Shit, he thought. He did not want to think about that. He would have been killed in the next couple of passes. Monsters that could use that much offensive fate were far deadlier than their rank would otherwise suggest. But then another thought occurred to him. If it had already sent that much fate against him, then it had to be specialised in that attribute. Which, in a perverse kind of way, helped rather than hindered him. If it had resources directed toward fate, then it would have less in other attributes, and the human bloodline being fate-focused had let him overwhelm the attack and effectively neuter its most powerful resource. He had a chance. Luck was going to be in his favour instead of the creature¡¯s, and it was the monster that relied on luck to make its kills. Chapter 52.3 – Lair Curiosity He sensed it coming from his right and tried to throw himself backwards while thrusting the knives at it to drive it away. The manoeuvre was only partially successful, and one of the claws punched through his wrists. It stung. Tom missed Healing Tranquillity. It was easy to forget how much he had taken the ability of it to freeze time to deal with these situations for granted. In pain and without the time to do it properly, he cast Purge Foreign Substance and allowed the identification process to go to work. He nearly stumbled in shock at the reported outcomes. A tier-two venom in a rank-three lair? It stretched the bounds of credibility. Almost subconsciously, skin and muscle walls grew out to stop the venom from spreading. This was not something that his skills would allow him to purge. Even containing it might have been impossible without the sideways evolution to improve the strength of the containment technique. While half of his mind focused on isolating the venom, the rest concentrated on survival. Standing still would have been suicide, so he sprinted forward into the blackness, wishing he had brought a torch. Instincts screamed at him, and he pulled out of the sprint and thrust his hands to brace against a wall he was certain was in front of him. He thumped into the solid rock. Too slow, he thought. He had braced too late. His already hurt wrist cracked as it absorbed most of the momentum of the collision. Then his teeth slammed into the wall, and he discovered that hypothesis was delusional. Shards of front four teeth filled his mouth along with blood. He felt the push of wind against his back as the monster zoomed by. His body wanted to collapse, his sore knee was in a worse state, but he had pushed himself. He spun to face the open cathedral and spat the mixture of saliva, blood, and teeth to the side. It was coming again, and with his left non-dominant hand he threw the dagger. A moment later, he felt the whoosh of its wingbeats as it was forced to abort the attack. He switched his other knife into the good hand; at least he was armed, and could still fight. The situation was hysterical to him. Whatever formal skill he had acquired was a good one, because he was not tracking the monster in the darkness with any specific senses, but he knew exactly where it was. None of that mattered if he died, though. The random thoughts didn¡¯t distract him from what was important. His mind was assessing the threats busily. Almost his entire mana generation was being directed towards the poisoned area of his wrist. If he relaxed for a moment, it would overwhelm him, and the rapid paralysis it would cause would either kill him outright or leave him as an easy victim for the monster. The only silver lining to all of this was that he could no longer feel the broken bones in his wrist. That small mercy was thanks to the miniscule amount of venom that had leaked out in the collision with the unyielding stone. His mind catalogued the rest of the wounds: the damaged kneecap, the disabled arm, shattered teeth, a dislocated jaw, a heavily bleeding wound on his shoulder. He threw himself to the side, and the creature aborted the swoop. He wondered if it was confused by how its supposably helpless prey was able to sense its approach and track it. He swayed, feeling lightheaded, and wanted nothing more than to lie down. Tom recognised the symptoms and directed mana into a desperate Body Restore to improve his blood pressure. The wound on his back was haemorrhaging far too much for comfort. This was bullshit. He could feel the stirring of his anger underneath his battle trance. He had been so certain of his destiny. Yet the bat would keep coming and there was no guarantee Dimitri would reach him in time. Worry gnawed at him. Existentia was not that black-and-white. There was no such thing as a prophesied champion. People could die at any moment. He had been killed in his first life when he had thought himself safe. Panic and anger warred within him. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. How could one dagger and his non-existent agility hold this off? How long would it be until Dimitri got here? For him to survive, it had to be soon. It was coming again and he crouched slightly, then pretended to go one way before he threw himself in the other direction. It fell for the feint, but how long until it guessed right? It would continue coming until it got him. The fate he had invested, and this new skill, would keep him alive for a while, but could he outlast the monster? Frantically, he worked on purging the infected wound. When it got him next, he couldn¡¯t afford to have two of them. It was approaching him dead-on this time. He didn¡¯t feint, but instead threw himself in the direction he first moved toward. It went the wrong way, buying him another ten seconds. Tom wondered how much active fate he still had left in play. How long was it until his luck failed? His sense of where the bat was had vanished. His new skill had run out of juice and stopped working. Annoyance flared through him, but getting angry at it was only a distraction. He concentrated harder, straining everything to stay alive a few moments longer, to make time for Dimitri to get here. He stilled his breathing and listened. He strained his eyes to see, but the blackness was absolute. It had a pattern, so in his head he counted down the seconds. Now! He threw himself to the side. No monster plunged into him. It was a success. If he had gotten the timing wrong, he would be dead. Tom stood, ready to repeat the action. He shut his eyes and focused on the hairs on his neck. Now! He flung himself horizontally and felt the brush of the creature¡¯s wings on his arm. Too close. A single blow would kill him. Only half the venom in the wrist wound had been driven out. He lacked the mana to heal the cut on his shoulder blade, and he knew he would have been dead already without that sideways evolution reducing the bleeding. His visual senses weren¡¯t helpful, so he stood there, feeling for the enemy, eyes shut. A hair on his hand twitched, and he threw himself sideways. There was a stinging pain on his calf. It had been swooping low, and the claw slice had split his lower leg open. More blood loss, more problems. Then the entire leg below the knee failed to respond to his mental commands. That was it. Two lame legs meant death. He pushed himself to his feet, but it was mainly his arm strength that did it. Neither leg was working properly. He collapsed. Wind brushed his back as the monster went over him. Get up, he told himself. But he knew this feeling, and understood the state he was in. Mind over matter only worked so far. If you lost your legs, no amount of wishing would get you walking. His body wasn¡¯t intact enough to move. He needed to get strength from somewhere. If he died here¡­ No, he wouldn¡¯t accept that outcome. He wouldn¡¯t allow it. He had a duty to survive and save humanity. Tom thought about his anger curse, and his suspicion around what it did. Not only was it unfair, it would be an injustice if he died here. He had sacrificed a lot to try and make a difference. It was unacceptable to die now! He couldn¡¯t fail after everything he had done. That was unfair. Wrong. He felt the rage rise, and he welcomed it. He wouldn¡¯t accept a world where his legs couldn¡¯t support him. With a scream of rage, he propelled himself to his feet with a single arm. The pain wasn¡¯t that bad, his muddled thoughts decided. He threw the knife. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you,¡± he screamed at the darkness. ¡°I¡¯ll tear your head off.¡± With a roar, he charged forward. The leg failed him; he hit the ground, but pushed himself to his feet. Where was it? He lunged to his left, hoping to grab it, and then screamed again in frustration as, judging by the wind, he felt it go through the spot he had just vacated. It was lucky. If he had gotten his hands on it¡­ ¡°I will kill you,¡± he yelled and leapt forward. He crashed into something, and there was a stinging feeling in his thigh. He didn¡¯t care, and he tried to grip hold of the monster. Its torso was the size of a large dog. He slipped off and slammed into the ground. ¡°You¡¯re dead next time.¡± He shrieked. He attempted to force himself to his feet, but his leg wasn¡¯t responding. Blood filled his mouth, his back stung, he could no longer feel the leg with the broken kneecap. The only thought in his brain was that it had hurt him and he would have revenge. It was grounded and coming for him. He would let it get closer and then kill it with his bare hands, dig his fingers into its eye sockets and rip its skull right off. Bright light engulfed the room. There was a wet thud. He squinted through the tears flowing from his eyes. The bat had been cut in half. It was lying less than a metre from him. A sensation of healing slammed into him. Good! It meant he could tear apart whoever had stolen his kill. He lunged at the figure behind the slain monster. Strength, stronger than he could imagine, pinned him to the ground. ¡°Why on earth are you in an enraged state? And what the hell, Tom! Where¡¯s your goddamn armour!¡± Chapter 53 – Seeking Understanding Tom lay on the stone, breathing heavily and revelling in the fact that he was alive. Whatever that monster had been, it had been way too strong even for a teenager to fight, let alone a five-year-old. He had survived because of the precautions they had taken, the emergency necklace on his neck that Dimitri had insisted on, and all the fate Tom had personally put into guaranteeing his survival. But despite all that, it had been too close. He had received a new skill, and had deliberately triggered the rage curse. His danger sense had warned him of impending attacks multiple times. Despite all of those advantages, he had been seconds away from dying. A few points less fate, and Tom knew he would have been dead. He began shaking. It would have been an inglorious way to fail. If he died, he wanted it to be when he was making a difference, not battling an insignificant monster that he was only facing in the first place because it was a training obstacle. He had gotten so incredibly close to dying. It was a major screwup, of that he was certain. But he didn¡¯t know who, where, or how. ¡°Hang in there,¡± Dimitri said kindly. A heavy fabric landed on him, and, before he could respond, he was being bundled up in it. ¡°Don¡¯t struggle. Don¡¯t talk.¡± Dimitri ordered. ¡°I know this is undignified and most likely uncomfortable, but it¡¯s necessary to protect you from observation until I get you into a safe spot.¡± Dimitri cleared his throat. ¡°It is unacceptable for you to be using these facilities dressed like that,¡± the man scolded loudly. ¡°I¡¯m going to make sure you never do it again.¡± The way the words were almost shouted told Tom that it was for the ears of any curious listeners. Dimitri probably didn¡¯t believe they were there, but it was always better to playact mistakenly than to not be acting the one time you needed to be doing so. The older man didn¡¯t say another word to him. He was picked up and carried for a period, then dumped haphazardly on the floor. A few minutes passed, and he was moved again, then dropped. This time, there was the sound of a muffled conversation. Tom strained his ears but magic, whether from Dimitri or from the cloth, stopped him from hearing anything. Then there was more movement. Finally, after almost half an hour of being carted around like a sack of potatoes, he saw the thick fabric opening up. Tom crawled out of the fabric, conscious of the blood covering him and the fresh sweat which had turned it into a disgusting slurry. It had been hot in there. Dimitri was waiting. He stood straight-backed, looming over Tom, his arms crossed and an angry scowl on his face. They were in the office, the runes glowing brightly to guarantee privacy. He smiled weakly up at the other man. ¡°What were you thinking?¡± ¡°That I had training to do.¡± Tom answered, tired. He didn¡¯t want to deal with this overprotective bullshit. He would rather work out what had gone wrong and make the required adjustments going forward. ¡°But you started so sensibly. When did you stop wearing armour?¡± ¡°A few weeks ago. It was necessary to improve the skill acquisition rate.¡± ¡°I warned you of the danger.¡± Tom knew the other man had a point, but he also didn¡¯t. ¡°Stop gaslighting me. Armour would have done nothing against that. Don¡¯t pretend otherwise. How the hell was something like that in a lair designed for kids to fight in?¡± he pressed. ¡°It was ridiculous, I¡¯m a rank-nothing, and it must have been rank-seven. Probably nine in terms of deadliness, once you factor in the elevated fate pool and that tier-two venom. Rather than focusing on unimportant stuff, can you tell me how did I run into something like that?¡± ¡°I told you there were risks, but you raise a good point.¡± Dimitri massaged his brow and looked at Tom strangely. ¡°You¡¯re obviously very experienced. That was a very good estimate. Not perfect, but good. With the venom, it would be classed as rank-eight, but I don¡¯t know why you think it had an elevated fate pool. It didn¡¯t. The pool was full when I got there, and it was used automatically to stymie my attack. But your analysis is right. Something stinks.¡± He waved at the cloth he had been wrapped up in. ¡°Hence the extra security. We sweep lairs daily, and I personally went through the bat lair an hour before you got there. That monster was manifested freshly.¡± Tom couldn¡¯t help but scoff at that suggestion. ¡°That¡¯s not possible. It was way too strong to be new.¡± ¡°I know. I agree, and we¡¯re looking into it. Eden¡¯s on the way. She¡¯ll do a sweep before anyone wakes up, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll find anything. There hasn¡¯t even been a flicker of a fluctuation in the wards.¡± Tom reassessed the other man¡¯s body language. The folded arms weren¡¯t expressions of anger, but of concern and worry. So was the raised tone. The older man was actually shaken by that bat¡¯s appearance. ¡°Do you have a theory?¡± Tom asked quietly. Dimitri exhaled. ¡°Only bad ones.¡± Tom mentally reviewed everything that had happened, including that cloud of hostile fate he had burnt away. What would it mean if that hadn¡¯t come from the bat? That felt like a clue. ¡°If the wards weren¡¯t breached, then what? Does that suggest the creature appeared by random chance?¡± Dimitri nodded. It was Tom¡¯s turn to exhale. ¡°Fuck. What¡¯re the chances of that?¡± ¡°I let you train in the lair, so my assumption would have had that this probability is at zero. Especially since you would have had pre-emptive fate in play. Tom, you did have pre-emptive fate in play didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes, of course I did. Half my fate pool, as agreed.¡± ¡°Which means¡­ its appearance, its manifestation means it got past that fate. You see the problem, don¡¯t you, Tom? We can¡¯t ignore this, and it means I have to ask you hard questions that I would usually avoid. As I understand it, you were a member of the heroes of humanity. Could you be targeted specifically because of it?¡± ¡°What, through time? Or do you think they¡¯re doing a ritual every year just in case I¡¯ve been reincarnated?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yes? Really? The cost of doing something like that is astronomical. Are you serious? You¡¯d have to piss off a GOD to do that.¡± ¡°Deadly serious,¡± Dimitri answered. ¡°And you heroes did annoy two GODs. Our priests and others all confirmed that.¡± Tom bit his lips, worriedly. ¡°What are you implying? That they target every reincarnated hero of humanity?¡± ¡°No, this is unusual.¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. There was a lot to unpack in that statement, but Tom was able to read between the lines. There had been other people reincarnated from the group who had uneventful childhoods. ¡°Tom, you said you had holes in your memories?¡± ¡°Yeah, I do.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m assuming that enraged state was somehow related?¡± Tom¡¯s breathing quickened. He didn¡¯t like the conclusions he was drawing from these questions. It felt wrong to delve too deeply into the speculation on where that problem came from. The answer he felt had weight. An eldritch truth that could have literal physical consequences. It was something that touched upon the very GODs, and that was terrifying. His instincts told him this was not something to explore lightly. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Dimitri. I don¡¯t know, what do you think memory holes are? All I know is that when it activates, I¡¯m consumed by uncontrollable fury. Its main trigger seems to be when I feel there is an injustice and, today, I exploited that. When I couldn¡¯t stand because of my wounds, I deliberately triggered it to allow me to stay alive for a few extra seconds. I¡¯m certain my attributes rise when it happens, and that gave me strength to move despite my injuries.¡± ¡°You sound like you understand it. Do you have a sense of how it might be stemming from your past life? Like, is it some kind of weird trait or skill?¡± ¡°No. Nothing. None of my previous memories had this. If I was to guess, it¡¯s a blessing that I received during one of my blind spots.¡± ¡°A blessing?¡± Dimitri raised his bushy eyebrows. ¡°Yes. You know, the ones GODs can give.¡± ¡°No need for the attitude. I understand what blessings are, but they¡¯re rare enough to be basically a myth. I¡¯ve never met someone with one.¡± ¡°Yes, you have. I have one confirmed, and this maybe is a second one.¡± The silence was deep enough to hear a pin drop. ¡°Of course you do.¡± Dimitri¡¯s voice almost squeaked as he said that. ¡°That one was from Sanatories. This new one¡­ who knows.¡± ¡°Tom, I have to know: are you important enough to have GODs going after you once you¡¯ve been reincarnated? Because if you have a confirmed blessing, it sort of implies that you are.¡± He shrugged. The holes in his memories were significant, but he couldn¡¯t quite see how the gaps could align to a role which would have made him noteworthy. It wasn¡¯t like he was the glue that held everyone together, and in that final battle it had been Rahmat and Clare who had been critical to killing the dragon. He had not played a role in the plan that resulted in slaying it, or at least not a significant one beyond Clare abusing his purchased trait. Though he could guess that the giant had actively targeted him, which suggested some value. He opened his hands up helplessly: ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Can I ask Eden?¡± Tom stared at Dimitri, not quite understanding the question, and also recognising exactly what that request implied. He swallowed, as his brain briefly shut down. ¡°Why? Is she reincarnated?¡± He asked to buy time. Dimitri snorted. ¡°No, she was a fellow hero of humanity. She might be able to explain some of your memory holes.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand how you¡¯d be able to consult with her. Doesn¡¯t my title protect me and stop you from revealing who I am?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t do that, not in as many words. But I can ask for more details about the names of the heroes and the roles they¡¯ve played. That, in turn, might let me know if you were likely to be targeted specifically.¡± The other bit of him, the man in him was screaming at him, demanding that he find out, that he pick at the open scab. He licked his lips. ¡°Who is Eden? I don¡¯t remember anyone with that name.¡± It was possible that it was one of Jenny¡¯s crew, because he hadn¡¯t known all of them, but he didn¡¯t think so. If she was a member of the heroes of humanity, then Eden had to be Everlyn, and that idea terrified him. The myth around Eden¡¯s actions fitted how he could see her reacting to his death and eventual reincarnation. But why she would have changed her name was a mystery? ¡°All the heroes were tight-lipped. But she was definitely one of you. I can guarantee that.¡± ¡°Does she have red hair?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He bowed his head, his gut a spinning whirlpool of emotions. That was not a welcome complication. ¡°Are you okay, Tom?¡± He waved the question away. ¡°I¡¯m good. Just an unwelcome memory.¡± ¡°Well, if you¡¯re sure there¡¯s no issue here, can I ask her for more details?¡± He wanted to say no, but knew that was not practical. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll let you ask. But I have one condition. I¡¯m going to get spear mastery soon. When I do, can I practice against the orcs?¡± Dimitri¡¯s mouth literally fell open. ¡°That¡¯s ballsy. But no. No, you¡¯re banned from the lairs. I¡¯m removing your access permissions.¡± ¡°Why the hell would you do that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe it¡¯s because you recklessly walked into the centre of the lair without even wearing your protective uniform, or maybe it¡¯s the fact your presence made a monster manifest that shouldn¡¯t have done so.¡± ¡°I was training.¡± ¡°You were being an idiot.¡± ¡°I had to push myself to earn entry into the divine champions¡¯ trial.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care if DEUS¡­¡± Dimitri forced himself to stop talking. If he had finished that statement, both of them knew it might have been considered blasphemy. His face flushed. ¡°As I was saying, if you¡¯re going to act like a child, then I¡¯ll treat you like one.¡± ¡°That¡¯s unfair. I was only at risk because of a freak occurrence, and it wasn¡¯t wasted. I earned a skill out of it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m blocking access until this situation is resolved. Potentially for longer, depending on how I feel about your recklessness.¡± ¡°I¡¯m close to general combat two. If I got danger sense today, I¡¯m basically there.¡± ¡°Bullshit. Do you have any offensive skills or spells?¡± Tom stopped talking. He knew that answering no to that would doom his argument. Dimitri had taken off his backpack, a small inconspicuous article that was so common it could almost be considered part of a uniform. All the adults had one because after the tutorial, it was second nature to possess a spatial backpack or other device. If you could carry all your stuff around with you and you were used to being attacked by monsters at any moment, it was a hard habit to break just because you had been living in a semi-peaceful town for a decade. Now he was rummaging in it. ¡°Sorry Tom. I¡¯m making an executive decision. Once you¡¯ve got spear mastery and another offensive ability, I¡¯ll give you access to the bats and the orcs. Until then, you won¡¯t be allowed in.¡± His hands pulled out a familiar looking bulky box with a screen. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you got?¡± the big man placed the status ritual contraption in front of him. By rote, Tom activated it, and focused his mind on extracting the ability he had most recently obtained. Skill: Psychic Tracking ¨C Tier 1 Psychically track a known entity. Duration one minutes, range twelve metres. ¡°Not bad, but not great,¡± Dimitri said over his shoulder. ¡°It is great. It¡¯s already kept me alive once.¡± Tom said trying to project happiness and to hide his disappointment. ¡°That it did, and, with it using psychic energy to track the entities, it¡¯s powerful in its generality. Very few things will have a defence against it. Repeat stealth attackers will be hard countered by this, and, if you manage to upgrade it, then the skill starts to predict where an enemy is going to be. At that point, it might address speed monsters as well as stealth specialists.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s great. But I wanted Danger Sense, and I felt it was close, and really thought that was what the ding was.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Tom, but you have to understood that acquiring skills is capital D-difficult. And if it¡¯s done in battle, you¡¯re likely to get something more randomised; something great for the specific situation, but with a potential poor fit for the build you¡¯re aiming for. This one at least has great long-term utility.¡± ¡°I know. It¡¯s just that I thought I had Danger Sense. When fighting the boss, I felt precognition guiding me. The only reason I survived was that I was often dodging before I should have known where it was.¡± Dimitri paused. ¡°That¡¯s terrific news. It sounds like you¡¯re right on the cusp of getting it then. I have a question. Honestly, do you think you can get into divine champion¡¯s trial?¡± Tom sighed. Dimitri had a habit of asking hard questions. After a moment¡¯s consideration, he decided he had to be truthful. He didn¡¯t really know what skills Dimitri possessed, and if he had the wrong ones, then anything other than complete honesty would be more trouble than it was worth. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He admitted, and then recounted all of his conversations with April. ¡°And what skills and spells have you earned?¡± Tom explained his five crafting skills, being very careful not to mention the titles, even if he deliberately stated the tier level of each skill so that Dimitri could do the calculations himself. Dimitri did not blink. His expressions did not give anything away, either. ¡°As for spells, I¡¯ve only focused on healing so far.¡± ¡°Cuts, Purge Foreign Substances. I¡¯ve seen you use both. Do you have any more?¡± ¡°Yeah, Body Restore and a couple of the precursors to Heal Organs.¡± Dimitri nodded. ¡°Very impressive. I¡¯m not promising anything, but when I talk to Eden, I¡¯ll see if I can get you that trait stone.¡± That offer was completely unexpected. ¡°Thank you- thank you so much,¡± Tom stammered. The day was a success, apart from one thing. He studied Dimitri and figured there was a weakness there. ¡°Can we negotiate a compromise on lair access rather than banning me? The bat lair was really helping me. Maybe the answer is not to ban me, but instead to include some extra security to manage the risks?¡± Without compunction, he leant on little Ta''s skills to look earnestly adorable. Chapter 54.1 – Attack Dimitri smirked at the request. ¡°Your development over the last nine months has been impressive, but I¡¯m not sure I can sign off on that.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Tom asked flatly, abandoning the cute look. He really wanted access to the lairs. ¡°I need it.¡± ¡°Because we don¡¯t know what caused today¡¯s incident. You know it was unnatural. That boss monster was three ranks higher than it should have been. That¡¯s not something I can ignore. At a minimum, you¡¯ll need protection now, in case something like that happens again.¡± Dimitri, Tom noticed to his relief, had switched from a responsible adult persona to a focused solution mode. ¡°I need to explore options.¡± He mused. ¡°Thank you.¡± Tom inclined his head gratefully. ¡°We¡¯re done here. I have responsibilities. I need to leave, be visible, and clear up the mess the alarms I triggered have caused. Can you do me a favour? I need you bundled back into the fabric.¡± Tom scoffed in annoyance. ¡°Why?¡± he challenged. He didn¡¯t object as such. It wasn¡¯t like being hauled around was that uncomfortable or particularly humiliating. It just felt like he was being treated at his biological age, and that was not something he appreciated. ¡°Plausible deniability. I¡¯m going to stash you in a malfunctioning isolation room.¡± He honestly couldn¡¯t work out the game Dimitri was playing. This moving him from place to place felt like it would paint a target on his back. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Isn¡¯t that the most suspicious thing we could be doing?¡± Dimitri shrugged helplessly. ¡°We can¡¯t know the best move. It¡¯s all about probabilities. If they¡¯re physically observing me, then we¡¯re in trouble. But if that¡¯s the case, then you¡¯re already one of the walking dead.¡± Tom winced at that blunt description. It wasn¡¯t something he was sure of. DEUS was intimately involved in protecting him, after all. All he could do was trust her. She would not allow him to be pitted against an unbeatable enemy, not when after his first proper death she had sought to reward him. For him to die now would be her breaking her own implicit promise, and that was not something that she would ever do. As far as he could tell, it was not in her nature, and, therefore, he was safe. The big man scratched his head. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do to counter the risk of physical observation, so I¡¯ll ignore it. The continuous issue we face is the scryers with all their various tier-ten and above skills. They¡¯re an ever-present problem, and they¡¯re dedicated to searching for reincarnators. They¡¯re restricted from interfering, and by that I mean killing, anyone who is not a reincarnator, but they can watch them. I don¡¯t know how many remote scouting powerhouses the other GODs have arrayed against us, but it¡¯s a lot - probably every suitable resource that multiple terror races can dedicate to the problem. We¡¯ve done some testing. There are more than four, that¡¯s for sure. Myself, my peers in the other towns, we maintain a working assumption that we¡¯re continually under observation, as are all the other human powerhouses who have contact with kids. When they¡¯re in town, the assumption is that we¡¯re being watched. That¡¯s the true threat we need to counter, and it¡¯s what the fabric does.¡± ¡°But downstairs I wasn¡¯t protected.¡± ¡°Do you mean in the lair?¡± He winced at Tom¡¯s clarifying nod. ¡°That¡¯s like worrying about physical observation. But with the fate we¡¯re investing, not to mention all the wards, scrying down there will be hard. We¡¯re probably fine. And if we¡¯re not...¡± he shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do about it. Everyone in the town standing guard over you won¡¯t save you. Not with rank-one attribute. They¡¯ll sacrifice fifty rank-seventy assassins, and one will get through. The only shields you have are anonymity and the fact the GODs won¡¯t allow wholesale slaughter. ¡°Okay, so if we assume we¡¯re safe. What about physical observation when we¡¯re suggesting rooms? Wouldn¡¯t it be better for me to stay here and sneak out when you¡¯re not around? Or are you suggesting that you¡¯ll sense any while you¡¯re moving me and kill them?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m good, but not that talented. Don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s not a deficiency on my side. It¡¯s just that the people they send are better, but only once they¡¯re entrenched. If they¡¯re moving around or following me, I¡¯ll spot them. There¡¯s a strategic layer to this problem.¡± ¡°But the carpet will still be obvious.¡± ¡°Yeah, if any are in here, and that¡¯s a big if, they¡¯ll see me carrying it around. And they¡¯ll know someone is in it, but they won¡¯t know who. I¡¯ll move around to lots of places, and they¡¯ll have a couple of data points. The main gymnasium, possibly some corridors. They won¡¯t be able to work out where I put you. Besides, there are too many rooms for the remote scouting to monitor all of them.¡± ¡°It sounds¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s me being paranoid, Tom. Excluding the scryers, I could walk you, covered in blood, back to your dorms, and you¡¯d almost certainly be safe. This approach is slightly better.¡± Dimitri winked at him. ¡°Older kids get locked overnight in the isolation rooms all the time. Those things malfunction constantly. It¡¯s almost like they treat it as a game. I have to admit, it¡¯s very convenient for me. Even if I pretend to be super grumpy every time. I don¡¯t know how such a practice started taking place.¡± Tom let himself get bundled up. Dimitri clearly knew what he was doing. Once more, he was slung over the bigger man¡¯s shoulder and transferred via lots of stop-start movements that went up and down multiple floors, until he was deposited in a new room.. Dimitri spent a few minutes fiddling with the controls, then picked up the fabric roll. He turned to face Tom. ¡°You¡¯re going to be stuck in here for at least six hours. I¡¯ll give you a five-minute warning before I fix...¡± He mimed inverted commas when he said the word fix. ¡°Before I fix the malfunction. Do whatever you want in the meantime, but when I come back, assume you and the contents of the room are known to the enemy.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. With that, he left, the door clicking firmly shut behind him.. Tom washed himself and then spent his time alternating between magic spear work and meditating on Danger Sense. All the while, he was maintaining an open cut seeping blood that he attempted to influence with his sideways evolution, the one that sped up clotting. All the effort invested into skill development made him feel like the evolution was responsive to his will, even though the total sum of his theoretical knowledge suggested that was an impossibility. The attempt didn¡¯t cost him anything, so he persisted, hoping that it might somehow lead to obtaining a trait. After what felt like days, but what his pseudo system room had tagged as only eight hours, the entire room flashed. The room was spotless, but he healed himself and triggered a cleaning spell to remove the blood. Then he grinned, tipped over two of the toy boxes and used his feet and hands to fling the toys wider. Smugly, he sat in the only cleared area of the floor. The door opened and Dimitri strode in. He looked at the scattered toys with annoyance and glowered at Tom. Innocently, the latter smirked back. Neither of them said anything other till the door shut and it dinged to indicate they had privacy once more. ¡°And?¡± Tom asked. Dimitri shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to clean this, you know.¡± Then he sighed. ¡°But it was probably the right call. There¡¯s no way a five-year-old getting stuck in here for eight hours will not cause a mess.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the only¡­ only reason I did it.¡± ¡°Yes, the mess was only to aid your disguise, and you weren¡¯t smirking.¡± Dimitri rolled his eyes. ¡°On to more important things. Eden¡¯s completed her sweep. The wards weren¡¯t penetrated, like I thought. Unlike me, Eden has abilities to let her pierce any entrenched assassin¡¯s defences. So, you¡¯re off the hook.¡± ¡°Good; and her views on the boss?¡± Dimitri grimaced. ¡°Eden couldn¡¯t find any evidence to suggest it was anything but random.¡± ¡°Damn. A ritual.¡± Tom cursed. While humans were the only species that could spend fate innately, other species could do similar things with structured magic, if admittedly at a massive cost. ¡°Yes, exactly. Not great news. And if a ritual¡¯s leveraging fate, there¡¯s no way to prove it post factum, since all it¡¯s doing is distorting the probabilities. The boss remains a random occurrence, even if it was off the scale level of unlikely.¡± There was something about how Dimitri looked. ¡°And you think I¡¯m the target?¡± The big man sighed. ¡°I¡¯m almost certain that¡¯s a yes.¡± ¡°You know my history then. That¡¯s great. Tell me everything?¡± Dimitri winced slightly. ¡°Well, that¡¯s the thing, Tom. I know what the holes in your memory represent. Eden inadvertently told me exactly what was stripped away, and, as you rightly guessed, it was definitely responsible for your new precognition affinity.¡± He trailed off into silence. ¡°Don¡¯t stop there. What did I do? How did I help? Was it a soul-bound artefact?¡± Dimitri said nothing and scratched his hair, looking particularly uncomfortable. ¡°Um, the problem. Um. The thing is¡­ if memory was stripped from you, then DEUS obviously didn¡¯t want you to know them. If that¡¯s the case, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m qualified to tell you.¡± ¡°What? That¡¯s ridiculous. It¡¯s my story - I have a right to know.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Given what you did, I don¡¯t want to keep secrets, but if this is what DEUS¡¯s wills, then who am I to circumvent her wishes?¡± ¡°That¡¯s bullshit. It might have been one of the other GODs.¡± ¡°And it might have been, but the common view is that DEUS controls the process. I¡¯m not taking the risk, Tom. If you want to learn more, you¡¯ll have to convince a priest that you should be granted the information.¡± ¡°What priest? Keikain?¡± ¡°He¡¯s the easiest option, but if a priest is willing to vouch for your need to know, then I¡¯ll tell you everything. I just won¡¯t do it without permission from someone who has the mandate of DEUS.¡± ¡°Can you give me a clue?¡± ¡°Sorry, Tom. I know the role you played. I know it was your plan to get the racial trait, and that you made other substantial contributions as well. We all owe you a great debt. But that¡¯s not enough for me to go against DEUS¡¯ will.¡± Tom¡¯s instinct was to argue. But he understood the point that Dmitri was making, and, if the positions were reversed, as much as he hated to admit it, he would have done the same. However, even if Dimitri was in the right, it didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t leverage the situation. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ sorry, I¡¯m just really emotional about this. I can¡¯t put into words how much those holes in my memories trouble me. It¡¯s¡­ Sorry, you¡¯re doing the right thing. Don¡¯t say anything.¡± ¡°I wish I could help.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Tom sighed and covered his eyes. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. We should stick to business. First, I assume, since now you know who I was, I¡¯ll continue getting access to the bat lair?¡± Dimitri stared at him suspiciously. ¡°Yes, I can do that. Just so you know, I didn¡¯t deliberately give any clues to Eden, because if my guess is right, there¡¯s a bit of a history there, and I don¡¯t like pissing off powerhouses, whether current or future ones. But then, when I was trying to get you resources, I might have misspoken. I basically listed your achievements and what you¡¯re focusing on.¡± ¡°She picked up on the healing spells.¡± Tom guessed immediately. Dimitri nodded. ¡°Yes, sorry. She sort of stuttered, shut down for a moment when I mentioned them, so I know she noticed. In hindsight, I probably should have protected your privacy better and pretended that you were developing a different set of spells. I just wasn¡¯t thinking.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Tom said to put him out of his misery. ¡°I understand. Besides, the history¡¯s complicated, but not necessarily problematic.¡± ¡°Anyway, if that comes back to bite you, then sorry. I told her to try to get the resources, and the good news is that it worked.¡± He pulled out an arm guard. ¡°I¡¯m authorised to give you this. It¡¯s a defensive artefact that¡¯s warded so scryers can¡¯t notice it. You need to wear this while you¡¯re in the lairs. If you trigger it, it will create a powerful personal shield and an attack golem to defend you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s going to slow skill acquisition down.¡± Dimitri shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s one use and most promising students in native cultures wear a similar limited use lifesaving treasure. With all their history and knowledge of how Existentia works, if they¡¯re doing it, then we¡¯ll be safe to do the same. If there¡¯s another surprise like the bat, this will be more than enough to counter anything that can be generated even by extremely unfavourable probability events. It won¡¯t stop an assassin, but it will slaughter any future boss monsters. If you¡¯re wearing it, you can continue training against the bats, and, once you get spear mastery, then I¡¯m fine with you testing yourself against the orcs. And after Touch Heal and Spark, you can fight whatever you want down there.¡± Tom stared at the bracelet, and then mentally shrugged. His point about natives using this was a valid one. He could live with a small drag on his skill acquisition, and he really couldn¡¯t afford to turn down extra protections when someone was willing to throw major fate rituals at him. ¡°I¡¯ll wear it,¡± he promised. Chapter 54.2 – Attack ¡°Good boy,¡± Dimitri smirked. ¡°Oops, I didn¡¯t mean boy, I meant man.¡± The other man smirked and his eyes momentarily flickered pointedly at the toys that covered the floor. ¡°In addition to the defensive artefact, I also extracted an additional promise. Eden¡¯s going to reach out and try to get a trait stone for you. She¡¯s also agreed to fund it.¡± ¡°If she¡¯s being watched, is that sensible?¡± ¡°No, it wouldn¡¯t be if they¡¯re watching her continuously.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand. You said they watch powerhouses, and surely she counts as one. If they caused the boss event, they probably know I¡¯m here, and their spies will be turning their attention to surveilling everyone you¡¯ve been in contact with, as you¡¯re their only lead. Are you sure this course is safe?¡± Dimitri frowned. ¡°Yes, there¡¯re risks to everything, but even they can¡¯t afford to watch us constantly. Especially given Eden¡¯s protections. Their only allowable target is reincarnated kids. That¡¯s the only thing they¡¯re interested in. They¡¯re observing us when we interact with the kids, because they know we don¡¯t discuss or even gossip about children outside of warded rooms. Watching us all the time is a waste of effort for them. Don¡¯t stress so much. We¡¯ve been doing this for longer than you, we¡¯re aware of the risk, and we both think it¡¯s worthwhile. Now, you¡¯re probably hungry.¡± The door dinged open and the volume of Dimitri¡¯s voice increased. ¡°I don¡¯t know why it malfunctioned like it did, but you¡¯re free to go now.¡± Tom left to get his lunch while considering what had just occurred. Everlyn attempting to get him a trait stone was a massive win. He wouldn¡¯t count on it, as it wasn¡¯t guaranteed. After all, a suitable trait for what he wanted might not appear in any of the markets that humanity had access to. It was more likely than most traits out there, as most sensible people tried not to pick fights against things faster than them, especially when higher attributes also corresponded with enhanced skills. If you faced a deficit in speed, then after you removed that, you would usually still be at a disadvantage because of the higher ranked creature¡¯s superior skills. Anyone who survived to high ranks knew better than to fight anything that you weren¡¯t overwhelmingly stronger than. Even if you had only a one percent chance of dying in a battle, that meant, if you fought hundreds of them, you would die. It wasn¡¯t guaranteed, but it was close. Generally speaking, you only wanted engagements where you had an advantage in pretty much every aspect of the fight. As for Eden, or Everlyn, like he strongly suspected¡­ She was hopefully not an issue he would have to deal with for some time. He wondered how she felt about him. He was all too conscious of how passionate she had been in the debate about whether to resurrect him or not. How she¡¯d fixated upon that idea even after it was revealed Tom would live on via reincarnation. She had wanted to save him, and then there was he evidence of how she had spent the last fifty years. She had been the force behind building a base for reincarnators, she had slaughtered the wador, and her other hobby was farming ranking points. The last was something she was always going to do. But those first two, he knew was because of their relationship. He would have thought fifty years would have been enough to get him away from the blowback from his brief romance with her, but maybe not. It was all too hard. He wondered who had survived, beyond Everlyn and Keikain. He contemplated the question of whether he would ever reunite with them. The others, maybe, but not Thor. Given that he had a month named after him, he probably hadn¡¯t made it. He sighed, forcing the sense of dissociation and sadness down before going to face the world. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Once more, he threw himself into training. With Everlyn searching for a trait stone, he had a genuine hope once more that he would get strong enough to qualify for the Divine Champions¡¯ trial. Speed-based opponents were the enemy that his training plan couldn¡¯t counter. The fact that others were looking to help him with the issue inspired him to train harder. The trio of them had just finished exploring their magic in an isolation room when Bir ran off. She was excited to try the obstacle course again, while the older kids were undertaking compulsory survival courses. Happy not to waste any time, Tom went to follow, but Kang grabbed him before he could. The isolation doors shut with a ding. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Tom snapped. Kang looked him calmly in the eyes. ¡°An intervention. Pull your head in, Tom. You¡¯re pushing yourself too hard, and making things too obvious as a result. And I know - I spend more time than anyone else around you. I understand that means I¡¯m more likely to pick up on this than others. But my senses are no better than a kid¡¯s, and I¡¯m catching you practicing your magic. If I catch you once, how many times will a trained skilled observer see? You¡¯re taking shortcuts. Bleeding constantly.¡± He pointed at Tom¡¯s leg. ¡°Every fifteen minutes blood drips into your shoes.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just training. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going crazy.¡± ¡°I know it¡¯s just training, but if you keep this up, I¡¯m going to have to cut off our friendship.¡± The unspoken context of the statement was that Kang was worried that Tom¡¯s recklessness might expose him as well. ¡°Fine.¡± In frustration he struck the door. It dinged and swung open. Bir stood there with her hands on her hips. ¡°What happened?¡± Kang shrugged and pursed his lips apologetically. ¡°Um¡­ about that. I tackled Ta. Pinned him to the ground. It took him ages to yield.¡± She looked puzzled. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°To see if I could.¡± The response didn¡¯t seem to remove her suspicion. ¡°Whatever. We do obstacle course, now. Unless, of course, you¡¯re scared. Are you scared?¡± Kang laughed and took off at a run. Tom followed and pondered the other boy¡¯s accusation. Damn it, he thought, Kang is absolutely right. As he ran, he used Heal Cut to close the nasty gash on his leg. Another day passed, and, when he emerged from the isolation room, he froze. The corridors felt constricting, like they had turned hostile. Bir and Kang had exited at the same time. Kang¡¯s expression was tense. Bir appeared worried. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± she hissed. Both Kang and he looked at each other. Tom¡¯s guess was that this was an alarm, but he wasn¡¯t about to volunteer that. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Kang said carefully. ¡°Isolation room together? Or the main hall?¡± Tom asked. There were shouts from the stairwell and the sound of running feet. ¡°Everyone to the gymnasium, everyone to the gymnasium!¡± A slightly pudgy older boy was yelling as he and others his age descended from above. Bemused, the three of them joined the growing crowd, and became one of the many sprinting toward the promised safety. When they reached the main hall, Tom gazed wide-eyed with most of the other kids. There were over fifty volunteers in the room, all of them wearing full battle gear. Dimitri stood on his usual platform. Commanding everyone¡¯s presence. His voice enhanced with magic boomed. ¡°Wards are breached - if you¡¯re a reincarnator, retreat to your pseudo system room.¡± He was shouting it over and over again. ¡±Reincarnators must enter their pseudo system room! This is not a drill, this is a life and death emergency!¡± Tom didn¡¯t hesitate and followed the orders. He was worried. Fifty armoured volunteers were here. The entire orphanage had been gathered. Dimitri was shouting for everyone to go to their system room. And, worst of all, the boss monster had targeted him just four days ago. Coincidences existed, but this was not one of them. This, he was a hundred percent certain, was his fault. That bit of him that was never wrong confirmed it. Somewhere, potentially even in this very room, an assassin was watching, waiting for the slightest hiccup. When it occurred, they would strike. They were here for him, and a pit formed in his stomach. He hoped no other reincarnators were going to die because of this. But he knew a different truth. This wasn¡¯t as certain as he was with the other, but he was pretty confident. This attack would end in a bloodbath. He could almost guarantee that. Chapter 55.1 – They’re Everywhere Tom paced in the system room nervously. His eyes were watching the screens that showed what his body was doing. All the children, regardless of the age group, were herded into the center of the room. The volunteers, adventurers and fighters all decked out in their battle armor formed a protective circle, as though they were expecting an attack to occur. Not to protect, Tom thought as he remembered Dimitri¡¯s words. The adults circled around them to get vengeance if a strike was launched, and that was obvious from how they positioned. There were no big shields, and over a half of them faced inwards instead of outwards. It was pragmatic, even if more than a little upsetting, but this was real, not a game; their actions reflected the reality of the situation. If the assassins already had a target, there was nothing humans could do to save him or her, because the enemy out there was more than willing to die to kill a reincarnator. They had been called to action by their GOD, and that was not something they could ignore. However many were here, whether it was one or a hundred, they were all aligned, and none of them expected to survive. If they had a target, they would sacrifice themselves without hesitation, and that¡¯s what the adults were waiting to see. When Tom had entered the gymnasium, there had been fifty fighters, but they had trickled in constantly, and now over a hundred warriors were ringing them. These were true adventurers, too, because, unlike the typical adult he was used to seeing, the majority of these had full fate pools, and that let him estimate how powerful they were. Their fate pools dwarfed his own. Most had ten to fifteen times more, which pinged them all at being well over rank-fifty. Dimitri raised his hands, and silence descended. Tom had never been so aware of the time dilation. But he knew he had to watch this speech, and he couldn¡¯t afford to do it at a faster-than-chipmunk speed, because then he wouldn¡¯t be able to follow it. The real-time monitors went to the wall, and, with a flex of his will, Tom watched and listened to a version without the time dilation applying. Time would seem to fly by outside, but he had to know exactly what was happening. Dimitri did not look happy. ¡°All four perimeter security wards and shields of the orphanage were broken as of twenty minutes ago. I can confirm that hostiles have entered the orphanage. They are now undetectable until key resources come back from exploring. Until they are cleared out, all reincarnators must stay in their pseudo-system room.¡± Dimitri pointed. Volunteers that Tom recognised because they helped with their lessons were stringing up red banners. Some wore armour, but most were crafters and thus did not. ¡°Once the orphanage is ticked off as safe, those banners will be replaced with green. That is the only signal that you should pay attention to before leaving the system room. Ignore anything else. That includes signs, messages in the isolation room, people giving you direct instructions. All of that will be the enemy¡¯s lies. Do not leave your system room unless these banners are green. Do you understand?¡± Obviously, no one responded to that question. It was not like any of the reincarnators would be stupid enough to put up their hand. ¡°We anticipate it to be up to a week until we have the resources gathered to clear out the infestation, so I expect you to be stuck in your system room until then. Please, listen to me. Everything I say is important. We know there are assassins out there. We will deal with them in time. Seeing one does not warrant abandoning the pseudo-system room; thinking your life is in immediate danger is not a reason to leave, either. Even if you think taking control of your body will give you a chance to escape, don¡¯t do it. They will try to trick you, but they¡¯re rank-seventy and can move seventy times faster than you. Your only protection is not allowing them to confirm you¡¯re one of the reincarnated. Stay in there until these banners change their colour. These are smart, dedicated enemies. Don¡¯t underestimate them.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°They are going to try to deceive you. They¡¯ll use elaborate tricks that I can¡¯t predict. In the past, they¡¯ve woven illusions showing the person in my position ordering reincarnators to come forward. They¡¯ve put up signs in isolation rooms and safe places. They¡¯ve created an appearance of bloodbaths, and mimicked the destruction of an entire orphanage to trick people. They¡¯ve orchestrated rock falls and almost starved children to death to try to reveal a target. Don¡¯t let them win. Remain in your system room. Be very aware of the dirty tricks they¡¯re going to play; be aware that they¡¯re willing to sacrifice themselves to get a kill. Standing next to me won¡¯t help you, because while you¡¯ll get avenged straight after, you¡¯ll still be dead.¡± Dimitri sighed heavily. ¡°These situations always suck. We don¡¯t know how many of them got in. Maybe three, maybe seven, or ten, or possibly a hundred. We¡¯re still uncertain. Stay in your pseudo-system room no matter what. As per GOD-enforced treaties, if you are not a reincarnator and you¡¯re not actively participating in combat, you are absolutely safe. You¡¯ll note that some of the volunteers are not in armour. That¡¯s because they can¡¯t be attacked by these assassins. The rest of us are here to kill an assassin if they emerge, but until we swing a weapon in anger, we¡¯re also perfectly safe. Given those treaties, our routines won¡¯t change while this disruption occurs. The same isolation and trial rules apply as always. Trainers will turn up to teach you in the electives like they usually do. The only change will be our presence.¡± He waved at the armoured warriors. ¡°We¡¯re here to fight once we know where the enemy is. Dismissed.¡± Tom released his slowed down version of the speech and glanced at the real time monitors. His body was currently with Bir and Kang, huddled close to Dimitri¡¯s platform, presumably to get additional comfort. They weren¡¯t the only ones - most of the younger children were similarly positioned. The older ones seemed more accepting of the situation, and many of them were quizzing the armoured warriors ¨C in other words, extracting information from a resource they didn¡¯t typically have access to. Tom approved of their opportunism. He wondered how Kang was coping. Usually he was unflappable, but Tom suspected in this case he would be more affected than he was. After all, Tom was confident that, provided he listened to instructions, he was personally in no danger. The nature of his reincarnation, the wording of the conditions that let him be here, gave him a surprisingly large amount of comfort. He was sure that even if they were here for him, he would survive this. That was the nature of a deal with a GOD. Once he reached maturity, the protections would be reduced, but for now, provided he was careful, he was a hundred percent safe. There¡¯s a difference between a monster boss killing him, which would be his fault, versus a rank-seventy assassin that he had no chance against. DEUS would almost certainly protect him against the latter, while he wasn¡¯t anywhere near as confident about the former. With nothing to do, he created a luxurious couch in the middle of the system room and lounged on it while watching his avatar go through life. The fast forward images grated on him, so he fiddled with the inputs and was able to play back an experience at normal pace while tracking what his body was doing on the side-screens. Another option let him experience every sense the avatar had, which included taste and touch. He was looking at the past events and remained a passenger in the body, but it was a nice switch of pace to avoid boredom. The routine of the orphanage continued as normal. Chapter 55.2 – They’re Everywhere After a couple of hours, or, in real terms, the rest of the day, Tom realised that, despite being in the pseudo-system room, he was feeling a sense of dread every now and again. It was subtle, and, if he hadn¡¯t spent weeks actively training his skills in the trial, he wouldn¡¯t have noticed it. But all the effort he had put into gaining both his precognition and living wood skills had left a mark on him. Somehow, he was being affected by an emerging skill. Understanding rushed through him in a flash. He felt like an idiot for not recognising it immediately. Danger Sense, or at least the ability that had partially formed against the bats, was what he was feeling. He leapt to his feet, and the comfortable couch vanished as the room reverted to the austere, plain metal walls that he always found soothing. His mind racing, he paced up and down, trying to tap into the skill. Nothing. The threat was not currently present. A massive metal table appeared and on it a map of the orphanage was displayed. From now on, he was going to pay more attention to where the feelings occurred, to quantify it. At worst, it would let him do some training while he was stuck in here. Tom suddenly felt tired, and, though he wanted to work on his map, he found himself falling asleep. With a mental curse, he looked at the dark screens and the vitals that showed even breaths. His body was asleep, and he couldn¡¯t resist the compulsion. Before he could help it, the blackness took him. He woke when his avatar did, and was annoyed by the whole experience. Apparently, sleep in the pseudo-system room was dynamically linked to that of his body. This time as his avatar went through the day¡¯s routine, Tom tracked exactly what his senses were telling him. Just like when he was fighting the bats he would feel a prickling of fear. He started to place pins on his map. A day passed, then a second one, and every time he went to the main gymnasium, he noted the persistent red banners. Things got weirder. The atmosphere became more tense; everyone knew the assassins were out there, invisible, watching, plotting, and leaving signs of their presence. He entered an isolation room and saw a prominently displayed note. Reincarnators. This room has been verified as clean. It¡¯s safe to train here. It sent a chill down his spine, especially since Danger Sense was triggering at a low level. Dimitri had explicitly warned them of ploys like this, but to see it with his own eyes was terrifying. The intelligence controlling his avatar went straight to the note, ignoring Tom¡¯s instinct to flee. Inside the pseudo-system room, he shivered and was paralysed to indecision. A small part of him wanted to interfere to make the avatar walk away, to create space from the threat, but most of him held a different opinion, and common sense prevailed. And little Ta, sort of the person he would have been without his soul keeping his memories ,stood in front of that sign and tried to sound out the words. He struggled with three words: reincarnators, verified and safe, and gave up after less than a minute of puzzling each of them out. But those long seconds of watching his body interact with what was clearly a trap horrified Tom, even when logically he knew the true trap would close on those who ignored it, not those who engaged with it innocently. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. His body opened toy boxes and started playing with stacking blocks. They were a mix between Lego and animal parts and served a similar purpose, but with slightly less uniform results. Tom¡¯s half-developed skill was screaming at him the whole time. It put him on edge. He was not safe. He was locked in a room with an assassin, or at least a recording device they would later get access to. A mistake here was death, but he was not that concerned. His own safety was dependent on anonymity, and the reincarnator title gifted him with perfect acting skills to achieve that. Safely surrounded by metal walls, he felt like screaming, but his nerves were too much on edge to succumb to anything so as childish as that. He hovered in front of the screens, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. His mind recalled that note, the duplicity of the attempt. It was a ham-fisted approach that he couldn¡¯t see a reincarnator falling for, but if someone had the right mix of arrogance and stupidity, then possibly they might be just foolish enough. Tom prayed to DEUS that no one had made that mistake. Forcing himself to stay passive in the pseudo-system room was surprisingly difficult, so he was genuinely worried for the others. Their enemy had to know that the note was unlikely to work, but it was not a genuine attempt. It was a misdirection. A method to soften them up so they would make a mistake later, because they assumed the enemy¡¯s traps lacked subtlety. The day continued, and he kept adding pins and notes to the map. There was always a watcher in the Gymnasium. Another was in the room they practiced dodging in on the first day, but not the next one. Some of the enemies were moving around. None had been watching the obstacle course. As for the isolation rooms ¨C when it came to Tom personally, one had been present only that one time, and that hadn¡¯t been an assassin. It had instead likely been some form or recording device. That was the same thing as far as Tom was concerned, but it didn¡¯t help with his counting of the number of probable enemies. It was a strange existence, watching the world go by. Observing a child¡¯s life through screens was even more boring than going through the routine personally. With the few interesting moments that occurred, Tom took the time to experience them at normal pace. He used them to skip the entire time spent in the isolation room. It was clear the situation was affecting everyone, irrespective of the effort to maintain the routine. Laughter was almost non-existent, and the frequent speeches imploring reincarnators to stay in their system room were draining the joy from everything. The preaching was overblown, in Tom¡¯s mind. They were adults. They didn¡¯t need the continuous reminders, but they got these anyway. ¡°Unless the red banners are replaced by green ones, stay a hundred percent in the system room.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t come out for anything, not even for a moment. Assume you¡¯re always under observation.¡± ¡°Nothing is worth exposing yourself, and there is no possibility of being a hero against the enemies arrayed against you.¡± ¡°If you witness something, it¡¯s a trap. Stay in the pseudo-system room and let it do the work.¡± ¡°If you can see them, even if you think you¡¯re hidden, you¡¯re not. If you see one of them, then they¡¯re watching you.¡± The speeches were continuous. But they all contained the same message. Play it smart and don¡¯t be lured out. Another two days passed, and the number of pins on his tracking map increased. Some of the enemies were migrating around, while others remained fixed. The gymnasium, the five-year-old dorms and the main classroom had a permanent presence, while all the other ones continually shifted their location. From what he could tell, there were between five and ten roamers in the area Tom had daily access to. There might be more elsewhere, but he was confident that the total number of individuals was lower than the upper limit of Dimitri¡¯s estimations. Still, his exploration put their numbers at over ten. That was a fair force, especially if they all truly were rank-seventy stealth specialists. Chapter 55.3 – They’re Everywhere Tom entered the isolation room and immediately felt his emerging Danger Sense go off. If he had a connection to a physical body, he would have recognized that the hairs on his neck would be rising, and his breathing hitching. Luckily, the protection of the pseudo-system room meant that his body went on with life as normal and didn¡¯t give away the physical tells. This time, there was no recording device. By the intensity of his developing skills reaction, there had to be an assassin present. Instinct screamed at him to run and do something dramatic, but Tom did neither as he sat on a hard seat in the middle of the pseudo-system room. He was alert, but not alarmed. The tension was almost enough to make him break out in hives. This was real. A creature that could kill him with the equivalent of its little finger was in the room, assessing everything he did; watching him, waiting for a mistake, anything that would confirm his true status and allow it to attack. The whole time his externally controlled body played happily, completely indifferent to the internal turmoil, his adult mind was trembling. Ta grabbed a practice hammer and proceeded to swing it with a form which was worse than what he managed in the weekly lessons. The attempts were clumsy and unimpressive, and the rigorous training lasted barely five minutes before his avatar got distracted and started pushing buttons on the ritual status contraception, trying to get it to display text. The body failed, and for the last four tries, it couldn¡¯t do anything because the device was out of energy, not that his younger self apparently would have noticed. His body started playing with the Lego equivalent once more. In the system room, Tom smoothed the hairs on his neck and wondered what to do. Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement in the external screen displays. Within the pseudo system room, Tom froze, as his danger sense went into overdrive. His avatar had scooted over to a wall and was staring with wide eyes up at the corner of the room. Tom responded by studying the two screens he had set up for his main view. One showed smooth plaster, and the other, where his illusion breaching ability was active only the cupboard doors. There was no sign of anything being there, but his body stared at the point like it had been hypnotised. Then Tom glanced down at the vital monitors and almost jumped in surprise. There was an escalating heartbeat, it was already at a hundred and seventy beats per minute, and there were increased adrenaline levels as well. They were also spiking into the extreme range. Something had happened. A stimulus of some type had occurred. And his Danger Sense was screaming at him. There was nothing Tom could do but observe, and he wondered what was happening. His mind recalled the spike of threat and his body¡¯s instinctive reaction. Something nasty and observable to a normal kid, but the question was what was it? The screens remained fixated on that empty corner of the room. His body, with its perfect acting, thought something was there. Tom tapped the screen that showed his heart rate and then the wall. Nope, he couldn¡¯t ignore this. Something physical must have been drawing the body¡¯s attention to that point. ¡°What was it?¡± Tom asked, and then delved into his memories. While sharing all senses of his body, he replayed the moment before the body had moved. He had been creating a cannon, and¡­ Tom froze the instant and rewound it for half a second. This time he played the recording back at only a quarter speed of real time. There was a flicker out of the corner of his eye. A brief sense or something hairy and massive, along with a psychic attack. A spike of compulsive fear than his true self had negated instantly, but his avatar had been forced to react to in full. That was a very good reason for his body to be staring at that spot. Something terrible was there. With a sense of dread, Tom investigated deeper. He could slow things down, so a real time second took a subjective minute to pass, but it didn¡¯t help much. That flicker of presence had only lasted for a tenth of a second. It had been out of the corner of his eye, and, no matter how he dissected the moment, the attempts failed to reveal any extra information. There had been a hairy leg with alternating bands of black and brown hair, one that had been about as long as Tom was tall, and mammalian in structure. It had been out of focus and only there for an instant, and he couldn¡¯t say much more about it. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Suddenly, there was a movement in the real time monitors. A break from his body staring fixedly at the one spot. What now? He thought in alarm. His body was playing once more¡­ It made no sense. It was a like a switch had been flicked. Confused, he re-inhabited his body¡¯s senses and replayed the seconds where his body transitioned from fearfully transfixed by the wall to active, happy play. Instantly, he was experiencing all the senses, and he felt it when another psychic attack struck him. This consisted of a wave of disinterest, a desire to forget that twenty minutes had been spent catatonically staring up at the corner of the room. The monster had done a reset. It was unacceptable. If he was a normal kid, then he would have just been played like a marionette. That was wrong. His mind had been tweaked and controlled so casually, and Tom could not accept that. Mentally, he froze, and at a thought everything went pitch black. He suppressed all stimuli to prevent the anger from grabbing hold of anything. The rage was seething within him, demanding he relent and allow him to throw things at the corner to kill whatever was there. No! Tom screamed at himself. He recognised the clear and present danger. This was not an injustice. He told himself desperately. It had done a test and had not injured anyone. Those words calmed him. The words felt weak even to himself. There was no issue here. No harm done, no damage. Tom chanted in his head. The rage faded, and Tom stood there, shivering. That had been beyond dangerous, and then an idea occurred to him: a way to get something from the hopeless situation. It was in the corner, and his body had stared intently at it for twenty minutes. Was it possible that the perfect sensory recording he had available in here could be used to break the illusion? If it was a perfect playback, like he suspected it was, then there was no reason that it wouldn¡¯t work as if he was doing it in real life. He remembered the ferret experience, and the title that had come with it. Hope filled him. That would be proper revenge for it manipulating him like it had, and Tom didn¡¯t have to kill it personally. He could get others to do it for him. He replayed the experience from the start. Once more, he experienced the glimpse of the hairy leg and the compulsion that had struck his body. He was a passenger in a body that stared intently at one point. He couldn¡¯t interfere with anything directly, as this was in the past. But he applied every part of his senses to try and pierce what he knew to be an illusion. Effort and focus had got him the title with the ferrets, and he hoped it would do the same here. Where was the monster? He could see through the illusions that the orphanage had put in place effortlessly. Surely such a mysterious and powerful ability would help against stronger deceptions, too. It didn¡¯t need to be instant - he just needed time to erode his way through it, and, if it was a true recording, he could repeat it as many times as he desired. He wanted to see. There was something there, and if he looked hard enough, it would be revealed. He remembered the hairy leg and searched for it. He concentrated, attempting to perceive a shadow or a pixilation, anything. The session ended with the psychic attack focused on turning his attention away from the wall and trying to make him forget. With a start, Tom noticed that his body had exited the isolation room already, and the trio was in the dodge room practicing against the combat dummies. That eight times time dilation was a killer, Tom realised, but a lot of him wasn¡¯t concerned. He wanted to see what was hunting them. He immersed himself back into the scene and replayed it. His focus did not waver for a moment, as he sort to pierce the protection that shielded it from view. When the twenty-minute session completed, his body was just finishing dinner. Tom didn¡¯t care - he was sure he was making progress. He threw himself back into reliving the scene, starting with that first glimpse of the hairy leg. This time he was sure he caught a glimpse of its shadow against the white paint, an impression of its size. Its torso was about that of an adult human, but the legs were longer. It was a breakthrough, but there was no ding to indicate the success he was looking for, and he had not pierced the illusion fully. When he checked the monitors tracking his body¡¯s location, he was surprised to see it getting ready for bed. Unfortunately, that meant there wasn¡¯t any time to do another deep dive. He took a break and observed the trip through the cleaning loop, then them chatting in the middle of the room as the second stage of dimming triggered. Within a minute of his time in the pseudo-room, the body would go to bed and Tom would be forced into sleep. Danger Sense screamed at him. In their group of seven, every single one of them was looking right at the top of the door. There was a ding. The space was no longer empty, and it was a different species, if the leg in the isolation room had been real. This assassin clung to the wall like a geko. It had four legs with sprayed pads and then two arms coming out of its side. One of which held a long, thin sword, which looked like it had just been drawn. Tom suspected that the noise of pulling it out of the sheath had been what had attracted everyone¡¯s attention. That was something he would have to check later. A different type of alarm was ringing, one that relied on his years of experience rather than abilities, but was all the more terrible for it. Danger Sense had fallen silent. The implicit general threat the assassin¡¯s presence represented had vanished, because he was not the target, and that was what his instincts had noticed before the conscious mind caught up with the details of the situation. It was looking to his right. Which meant Bir was not the target. Kang or the boy Ba stood there instead. It was going for one of them. Fear grabbed at Tom, and the creature leapt too fast for his eyes to follow. Chapter 56.1 – Taking Risks Everything happened so quickly that Tom would have been unable to follow the events even in real life, let alone while stuck in his system room with its time dilation. One second the native with a sword drawn had been on the wall, then it disappeared, there was a spray of red. A glimpse of Kang diving under the bed, and then his own body collapsing to the floor. Tom suspected someone had knocked into him. Then, on the heels of all that, there was a cacophony of noise from the hallway outside the dormitory, complete with flashes of light and a brief flare of heat. Within the system room, it was over within three seconds. Then, before he could fully centre himself, he was picked up under one arm by an adult in a heavy plate armour who moved him and others into the smaller, defendable cleaning loop area. There were shouts, screams, and tears. His body functioned while he watched almost in shock. It found Kang and Bir, and both of their faces were streaked with water lines. In fact, everywhere he looked he saw the same distraught, confused looks. There was no Ba, and the kids¡¯ friends were howling the hardest. Red wet cheeks and bulging veins were everywhere as they yelled imploringly at the ceiling, while others had their heads tucked away as they collapsed into balls, slowly rocking back and forth. Ba was gone. Tom hadn¡¯t known the boy beyond the vague sense that he had always been slightly weird, which in hindsight should have triggered more suspicion. Both over the last nine months and before that he had barely interacted with the boy. Ba was a stranger to him, but strategically speaking, the loss was far more significant. A powerful future asset to humanity was dead. And Tom was sure he was dead. At the thought, the brief glimpse of the red spray was displayed. There were no body parts visible, as his body hadn¡¯t looked at those the right time to capture that. But what he had observed was enough. That amount of blood didn¡¯t come from a paper cut, and there had only been two people in that area. The other, Kang, was alive and currently huddled up next to him. Tom replayed the scene over and over again, trying to get his head around what had happened over those two seconds of real time. He paused at the image of the creature on the wall, marvelling at how clear it was in his vision, while, judging by the timing of everyone¡¯s else¡¯s reactions, no one else had seen it. He had almost certainly received a title that had let him pierce through its illusions. Dimitri was in the cleaning loop with them. His face was grim, and through the gap into the main dormitory Tom could see that he was not alone. A mass of armoured legs was filling the sleeping area. The chief volunteer ignored the adults and knelt down in the middle of them all to comfort the traumatised children. They trusted him and clambered over the kneeling man, trying to get close. Tom¡¯s body was amongst them. Tom briefly considered taking control to tug on the man¡¯s ear to send an emergency signal, then abandoned the idea. Even if he thought he could get away with it, what would dragging him to the secure office look like? And how could it help? If his danger sense was aware of how many of the monsters were out there, then he was sure that adults with fifty years of throwing themselves into this arms race would have counters. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Was his information on the number of assassins even valuable? Tom was sure people with higher-tier skills than him would have to be to be around. It was logical that the adults by now knew how many were out there. The opportunity passed as the large man stood up and cleared his throat. Tom moved to view everything first hand through his avatar. ¡°I have some very sad news. Ba didn¡¯t make it.¡± There were shocked screams and sobs from all around Tom. His own body was reacting similarly. ¡°We¡¯ve killed two Cotalda assassins, including the murderer. However, more enemies most likely remain undiscovered. Reincarnators must not leave their system room, and they are the only ones in danger.¡± That was as good as confirmation that Ba had been a reincarnator. ¡°Everyone else is perfectly safe, but I understand trauma. I¡¯ll stay here tonight for extra security, along with two high-levelled adventuring teams. The danger has passed.¡± He hesitated, clearly weighing what to say. ¡°Ba was their only target. Everyone is safe.¡± What was left unsaid was if the assassin had wanted to kill more children, then it could have. If the rules the GODs had put in place had not held, that single individual could have slaughtered them all before help arrived. Dimitri stood aside. Tom released the delayed memory and returned to experiencing everything in real time. He was on a mattress, his Danger Sense grumbling at him. An enemy was still present. Dimitri and two adventuring teams might be camping in the room, but that didn¡¯t mean shit if they couldn¡¯t see the enemy. His body was huddled under the covers and was not alone. There were at least five others in the same bed. He wasn¡¯t sure who else was there. That was excluding Bir. She was definitely present, because her clinging had meant he had ended up here with others instead of alone in his own bed. The Danger Sense, that crawling sense of impending death, remained an annoying distraction. Tom, to distract himself, threw himself into studying what had happened. Why did he have this feeling? He had missed the trip from the cleaning loop to the beds, because he had chosen to listen to Dimitri¡¯s speech with full avatar senses. Now he wanted more information, so he replayed the relevant pieces. Immediately after finishing his speech, Dimitri had gotten them moving quickly and encouraged them to sleep in larger groups. Tom¡¯s body had done as instructed and hurried across the open space, trying not to look at where it had seen the spray of red. Such caution proved unnecessary, for, when he paused for the few frames and his eyes had checked the relevant area, he saw that everything had been left spotless. Furtive glances searched dark corners, then his body checked the lights on the ceiling, assessing how long until they went to night mode A chill went through Tom, and he rewound the memory, then froze it. His body had glanced up briefly. But that quick moment, thanks to the power of the pseudo-system room, had been enough. That, right there, was the cause of his Danger Sense continuing to go haywire. In the frozen frame, on the roof above them, there was a creature. A monster clinging to the ceiling in wait. Six thick furry legs with brown, white and black banding, each one longer than Ta was tall. The pattern on the leg was distinctive to the one from the isolation room, but there, he had only seen one of the legs, while here, everything was visible: a condensed body with a single soccer ball-sized eye embedded in the centre of its torso. It was of the compound variety like you would find in an insect, having different facets that allowed the creature to look simultaneously in every direction. It looked like the stuff of nightmares, and it was on the roof, watching and waiting. Tom was very glad of the presence of the system room, because if something else wasn¡¯t piloting his body, he would have drawn the covers tighter around him, despite how ridiculous such an attempt would have been. It was above them, spying and looking forward to a moment of weakness, and he was helpless to escape its gaze. Chapter 56.2 – Taking Risks Dimitri didn¡¯t know, or at least Tom suspected he didn¡¯t. The human fighters were right there and whatever magic it used to hide itself seemed to be fully fooling them despite their years of experience and purchased abilities. How was it possible he could see it and they couldn¡¯t? He remembered Dimitri telling him that the fate attack had been directed explicitly at him, that Eden had let slip something specifically notable about his past, an event that eluded his memory. Not for the first time, he examined his memory holes more closely, trying to analyse them through different lenses. Maybe there was something there; if he looked at them cross-eyed enough, he could conclude that some of the holes corresponded to times where strategy had shifted and changed. Tom knew from how Dimitri acted; he knew that his role must have been larger than he remembered, but how significant was it? A significant one, if he believed all the other evidence. That was not the only thing he thought about. He recalled how shocked April had been at his affinity. It had been so impressive that a million-year-old trial administrator was surprised. These represented more data points to build his case. And now there was this: the skill or title that had let him pierce the illusions that covered the assassins, a feat that even Dimitri couldn¡¯t manage. A second miraculous part of his build, and he had read enough of the accounts of other reincarnators to know that they didn¡¯t have surprises like this. Yes, soul-bound items got converted into traits or affinities, but that was with mathematical precision. The two anomalies in him ¨C the two that he was aware of - were on a different scale. They were unique to him. Were they evidence of the oversized impact he had in the first life, with the memory of how he had earned them having been stripped from him? But if so, why? Why did DEUS not want him to remember this stuff? If he had this level of power available, if he was that unique, then why hide it from him? Was it because someone had directed for him to be hunted? But if so, who? And¡­ the assassins were a terror race. The dragon wouldn¡¯t be sending creatures against him. But if that was the case, then he imagined the next link up the totem pole. If the head of a terror race wasn¡¯t calling the shots, then who would be, instead? What could command multiple races? His brain shut down. Raw, primal fear shot through him. A distant memory, an echo of meeting a GOD. It was real, and he was so small and insignificant. Mentally, he curled up. Why was he even doing this? It would be safest to give up, leave his system room, proclaim who he was and let everything end. It was too overwhelming, and he did not want to meet an angry GOD again. White static descended on him. It felt like being wrapped up in cushions, soft silk sheets and boundless love. It lifted a moment later, and he found that he remembered, but didn¡¯t. That specifics weren¡¯t important, and exploring that particular thought further would be a mistake. Standing in the safety of his system room, he shivered and could feel the blood pounding in his veins. Genuinely afraid, he checked his vital statistics of his body and was relieved to see that the heart rate had not changed. It was just the part of him here, in the pseudo-system room, that was affected. Which was a relief, and at the same time, also not. This trembling fear, the aftereffects of his memory, was the result of a soul response and not the innate, instinctive reaction of a biological body. Tom knew that, if he considered that too deeply, it would be as terrifying a revelation as that half-formed memory that he absolutely wasn¡¯t going to think about again. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. What the hell had happened in my last life? He wondered. His mind drifted back to the question of why he was being hunted and by whom. Once more, it felt like the universe was resting upon his shoulders. He tore himself away from his spiralling thoughts. ¡°Stop it,¡± he screamed and jumped up and down to distract himself. Then he stood and breathed in and out slowly and exhaled three times in a row to settle himself. Exploring that topic, he knew, would have consequences he was not willing or able to bear currently. So, nothing about why or who was directing what. However, he figured if he considered only specifics and not the broader questions, he would be fine. And then there was the question of his anger. That was another curiosity. The rage contrasted poorly with his ability to see through illusions. That latter one was a part of him. Even if he couldn¡¯t consciously remember what it was, it had never felt alien ¨C rather, that it had been a component of his build in a previous life. The unhinged fury that he suffered from was different. It did not feel familiar. It felt new and ugly. Abruptly tiredness washed over him, and Tom realised his body had fallen asleep. He could succumb, or take control of his body and wake it. Between those options there was no choice. In moments, darkness claimed him. He came awake with a jerk. The whole room shivered, which was a setting he had put in place to indicate when people touched him. The screen flashed. The positions he was being impacted were highlighted. It was confusing. There were multiple spots, most of which were non-critical. however, some were over vital weaknesses. Briefly, he experienced all senses to feel things directly, and then abandoned it just as fast with a feeling of relief. Someone was climbing clumsily over him to get out of bed. A moment later, he saw Bir on a screen dashing toward the toilets. His body stretched and then, less urgently, followed. Tom ignored direct events and focused on his Danger Sense in the hope the situation had changed overnight. It hadn¡¯t. An assassin was still in the room. His body had no idea and didn¡¯t look up, but he knew what waited on the ceiling. The noise of one child waking set off an avalanche and soon ringed by warriors they were escorted to the main gymnasium. There were even more armoured humans than before. Grim faces were all around. Dimitri made another speech. Tom listened and felt his stomach drop out. There had been attacks on the five-, eight-, and thirteen-year-olds. Five enemy agents had been eliminated, but Dimitri didn¡¯t know if the crisis was over or not. ¡°It is possible that we have killed them all,¡± he proclaimed. Tom cringed at that, knowing that he was wrong. ¡°But it is equally likely that the enemy has extra waiting in reserve, so we¡¯re not changing our plan. Key trackers with the senses to confirm either way will arrive in three days. Reincarnators must continue to¡­¡± Tom ignored the familiar refrain. It was a broken record and after last night, after the presumed death of at least three reincarnators, none of them needed extra motivation to be careful. Tom felt terrible for whoever Ba had been. Almost a year in his younger self¡¯s body, and then to be killed before he could have contributed anything. He wondered what mistake the man had made? What had compelled him to abandon the pseudo-system room? Had it been boredom? Did he give himself away when the alarm first went off, before they had received a warning? Had he erroneously thought that the isolation room was safe? Or potentially, had he foolishly tried to protect someone? Any of those could be an explanation, and Tom doubted he would ever find out. The execution itself had been carefully planned to flush out the other reincarnators. Ba, he was sure, had been a dead man walking for days. Chapter 56.3 – Taking Risks Two more days passed. The hairy spiders were not moving around, while the more gecko-like creatures were. It was frustrating, because the younger him almost never looked up. Tom would have to suffer with his Danger Sense going off repeatedly as he walked past the same threat over and over again, until finally he would get a look at what type it was. It seemed that only two species were a part of the raid, or at least in the areas that his body went. Not that it mattered what species these rank-seventy-plus trained assassins were. They still meant certain death if they chose to go after him. Tom learned to dread the sessions when the trio would happily play alone in a large room while a killer lurked directly above them. It also felt like they were everywhere. His unofficial count had twelve alive, with five being spiders and the rest being the gecko variety. Another day dawned, and he went to breakfast with the entire dorm. He entered the gymnasium, and the banners were green. Inside the metal walls of his system room, he froze. ¡°No, no. This is wrong.¡± He yelled, as he panicked in the safety of his system room. His Danger Sense was broadcasting the standard warning that it did when he was in a room with an assassin. Above him, one of the hairy creatures lurked, probably in the same spot as before. His mind flickered back and reviewed the trip here this morning. The one in the dorm had still been there, and right here in the gymnasium, an assassin was lurking above him as usual. But, as he mentally retraced his trip, he realised that there had been no signs of the other type, the Cotalda. A dread filled him. They had made a mistake. Green banners were being displayed while some of the assassins were still here. The scouts must have arrived during the night and gone through and cleaned out one species, but had lacked the skill to identify the other. A horrible kernel of certainty settled deep within him. Tom realised that the addition of the hairy assassin type was new, a more powerful version that had been sent here just for this raid, and because of that Dimitri and the others didn¡¯t know the risks. It was a disaster, and Tom didn¡¯t know what to do. There was still an armed presence in the room, but less of them. More for show than for a fight. Dimitri was smiling. Boreas yelled out in relief. ¡°Finally, you got them.¡± Arnali next to him shoved him. ¡°Cut the attitude, people died,¡± he hissed. Tom felt like screaming at them, but instead he held his position in the pseudo-system room. He didn¡¯t trust himself not to look up at where the spider still lurked if he took control of his body. ¡°What should I do?¡± he asked himself unhelpfully. ¡°We got them. We killed eight more Cotalda last night.¡± Dimitri said proudly. The speech was on one monitor, while the other showed real time activities. ¡°What should I do!¡± Tom yelled in distress. ¡°What do I do?¡± He wanted to tear his hair out. His hands were on his head, and the nervous energy had him trembling. To openly act would be his own death warrant, but his inaction would doom others. Had Arnali already exposed himself in that earlier interaction? How about the others? Even with the deaths, there should be over twenty reincarnators in the facility. Given the birth rate, it was a high percentage. If he did nothing, how many of them would survive? Should he expose himself to save them? Or was he more important? Should he allow all of them to die to save himself? He hated to think that way, but evidence suggested that might be the case. His precognition affinity by itself was notable, but that didn¡¯t take into account his ability to see through illusions. It was possible he was worth ten others¡­ or was that arrogance? This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He didn¡¯t know. He was paralysed by indecision. Dimitri was doing his job as the kindly caretaker and was making an effort to visit everyone - hugging them, comforting the younger kids, giving the older ones high-fives. Tom was lifted up, spun around and then given a hug, as though he was another child. His vacillation between response options came to a head. It was now or never. If he did nothing, then the watchers would gather data for hours, and then who knew how many other reincarnators would be revealed? Kang, Corrine, and everyone else were in real danger Tom could risk everything or do nothing and live with the resulting deaths on his conscience. He had to choose one of those approaches and do it now. He couldn¡¯t do it, he realised. Even as he felt a course of action growing firm within him, Tom recognised that the decision was the wrong one, that he was allowing emotion to dictate what should have been a purely logic-based decision, but he couldn¡¯t help himself. He did not want to live regretting the lives lost. For a moment, he left the system room and took over his body. There was an immediate ding. Tom ignored it, as he was sure it was just a confirmation of Danger Sense. The less time he spent exposed like this, the better. Both his hands were currently on Dimitri¡¯s large nose and in a subtle movement he let one drift around to tug on the ear as well. Less than two seconds had passed, and, before his heart rate could spike or adrenaline flood his system, he retreated back to the pseudo-system room. In the monitor Dimitri laughed at his cheekiness and put him down. Tom was trembling and kicking himself at the risk he had taken. He understood the danger he had just put himself in, but he wouldn¡¯t regret it. The gamble had been the right choice. Dimitri moved on and ignored the indication of an emergency. Given the timing, the caretaker had to have known it was related to the assassins and was urgent, but, despite that Dimitri had no outward reaction. In his pseudo-system room Tom stared with disbelief. How could he ignore that after Tom had dared to take over his body to deliver the signal? Please, he prayed. Please don¡¯t let me be discovered. Please let Dimitri be playing a longer game. Another fear wormed into his guts. The body, he remembered, had a delayed reaction to a fear or shock. He was not necessarily safe yet. With wide eyes he watched the vitals monitor, paranoid that he had been too slow, that his adult mind had been in control of the body for too long, that adrenaline and other stress hormones would be released and reveal that there was more to Ta than met the eye. The key lines on the screen didn¡¯t change. There were no revealing spikes of activity. His physiology had not given him away. But there was a larger problem. Dimitri was not doing anything. He was happily continuing with his routine, celebrating with the other kids. He had moved on to another table, and Tom wished that he had tugged two times instead of once. He should have made sure that the signal was completely clear. Maybe not twice, maybe he should have just tugged harder. It was galling to take that risk and be ignored. Perhaps, it was even worse, and Dimitri was playing this off as business as usual and planning on leaving a day before bringing Tom into the office. Then it would be too late. That idea horrified him, but he didn¡¯t know how the other man would respond. He was hoping for something instant, but apparently slowly was the winning answer. Had Kang already seized back control of his body for a moment? If he had, was that visible to the assassin? Tom very much understood the temptation, and he guessed they would all be back in control. The question was, how long would it be until they did something dumb enough to out themselves? It was almost a certainty once they got into an isolation room, but it would be easy to make a mistake before that. Every second counted. Dimitri was crouched down with the pre-five-year-olds, the new children to the orphanage. ¡°Why them?¡± he screamed in his system room. Why them? Why waste time on them? They were unawakened. Tom knew his thoughts were uncharitable. Those four-year-olds required more attention than the older kids. They had just been brought here, with some of them being ripped from their nuclear families. They almost certainly required the most comfort out of everyone here, but Dimitri was wasting critical time. His body¡¯s focus moved away, ignorant of his thoughts and desires. The body started to eat the cereal it had served itself, as though an assassin wasn¡¯t hovering over his head. He wanted to check on Dimitri, but couldn¡¯t. How much time had passed? Three minutes? Four? Tom¡¯s body¡¯s head turned suddenly to look behind it. Milk sloshed out of the bowl as an elbow knocked it away. Tom was instantly experiencing everything through the avatar¡¯s full senses. Dimitri had leapt up onto the table. ¡°Code red!¡± he bellowed. He was searching for hidden enemies wildly, and unlike what his younger self would have done, the experienced adventurer was mostly looking up. ¡°Everyone into the pseudo-system room. Weapons out. My danger sense just went off. Code red. Switch the banners¡± All around Tom there was a bubble of activity. Swords were drawn, spears materialised out of storage spaces, and the adults spread out to meet any threat that might suddenly emerge. It was the same as how everyone had been acting on the first day. ¡°What the hell are you about, Dimitri? We just swept the place.¡± ¡°Shut up, Susan. My danger sense went off. I¡¯m waiting for Eden. She¡¯s the only one I trust.¡± Dimitri shouted. ¡°We missed something in the sweep. My danger sense is not wrong about this.¡± Chapter 57.1 – Resolution With remarkable alacrity, the banners were switched back to the correct colour. They were red; red like oxygenated blood, Tom decided after a moments consideration. An appropriate warning to signify the consequences of a failure to follow the sign. And then¡­ That was it. There was no more talk, no discussion about the mistake. Everything returned to normal. They were pushed back into the standard routine, into the existence where every interaction seemed to be strained. Armoured groups patrolled the hallways, never less than ten people in each. The lessons were done by rote, with all the smiles forced. The entire orphanage was waiting for the proverbial other boot to drop. Two days passed without any improvement of the atmosphere. Tom watched the faces of his cohort through the many screens. They were feeling the strain. Tom¡¯s body finished the session in the isolation room. It had spent the last two hours creating a tower of books. This sacrilege had made him wince in his system room, especially when the tower that he had stacked to be over a metre high crashed down. At least one book had been left with a broken spine. The body acting like a perfect younger him was unworried by the outcome and only sought to build the next one higher. The child dragged over a toy box to help with that endeavour. Tom had to admit it was what he would have done when he was younger. The doors dinged open, and he saw that an ugly frog waited for him, half-blocking the entrance way. His body reacted by stepping back shyly, having recognised it. ¡°Follow,¡± it ordered in Dimitri¡¯s voice and then hopped away. His body dutifully did as instructed, and, unsurprisingly, he was led to the waiting room outside the caretaker¡¯s study. After almost five minutes, the door opened and Dimitri and Ma exited. They gave each other a quick hug before he sent her on the way. ¡°Ta, good, you¡¯re here. Please, enter.¡± His body followed the directions, and he was surprised to find that the study had been redecorated. It had been turned into a space better suited for young kids. There was a low couch that Dimitri sat on, and a young kid-sized chair, with them being separated by a low table. Paper and coloured pencils rested on top of it, and there was even some paper with a design sketched on it to allow him to do colouring. It was like walking into a child psychologist¡¯s office. If there was any question about how to play the encounter, it was overwhelmed by Tom¡¯s Danger Sense exploding the moment his body crossed the room¡¯s threshold. Something was very wrong. Dimitri, at a glance, seemed oblivious, and Tom knew that this was his precognition affinity of ninety-five showing its worth. That sort of firepower, even with a low-tiered skill could do stuff that those without an affinity simply couldn¡¯t match. ¡°Have a seat. If you want, you can do some colouring,¡± Dimitri offered. ¡°I asked you here because I¡¯m checking on the more vulnerable children, given the unique circumstances we find ourselves in.¡± His body had sat down and started to badly colour what looked like a pegasus. Not only was the attempt line challenged, the majestic animal was being turned an angry shade of red. There was a pause, and Tom knew Dimitri was expecting him to say something, but he remained in the system room. The perfect acting of his body continued unperturbed by what his Danger Sense was implying. There was no way Tom was going to speak first, as he wasn¡¯t even convinced that he was talking to Dimitri. This could be one of the illusions that he had been warned about - but then, again, he would expect his illusion-busting ability to reveal something like that. Which suggested this was different. The most likely explanation was that Dimitri didn¡¯t know the study was compromised. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. His body had not scanned his surroundings when it had entered the room. Tom was horrified by that, but he understood it was only five; though, on the other hand, that still felt sloppy to him. He double-checked the recordings and confirmed that neither of the corners adjacent to the door had been glanced at even once, and they represented massive black spots which could hide one of the hairy monsters. Or potentially something even bigger. Anything could be hidden there; anything that could kill him easily. The silence stretched. Through the monitors, Tom watched Dimitri like a hawk, and, for a moment, the big man appeared stumped. He went to talk and then stopped. The expression was only there for a micro second, but Tom noticed the slight widening of the eyes. Then he coughed. ¡°Well, Ta, can you tell me how you feel?¡± he asked, and then his eyes flicked up and around to the corners of the room. Tom smiled at the reaction. The title that all reincarnators held had activated to stop Dimitri from exposing him, and, in doing so, it had confirmed that his office was compromised. Tom hadn¡¯t needed to say a thing to get the message across. Ten minutes later of real time the session ran to its natural close, but that was irrelevant. He had said nothing, but the issue had been communicated to Dimitri in a way that was impossible to dispute. Tom had no doubt that Dimitri would act more decisively, now that he knew that Tom was not imagining a threat. He knew, now, that his safe office had been compromised, and it would highlight the danger they all currently faced. ¡°That¡¯s all the time I have for now. I need to touch base with another twenty or so of the more vulnerable kids.¡± He was escorted out of the office. His younger self hugged the older man and went on his way. Not once had his body looked into either of the corners, so he didn¡¯t know if the threat had been physical, or if it was some sort of remote sensing version. His body hurried to the combat dodging room, and he played with his friends. Bir was summoned by the frog around an hour later, and, to his relief, Kang wasn¡¯t. Dimitri was not stupid, and bringing a reincarnator into that situation was a recipe to trick them into exposing themselves. The next morning, the banners remained red. But it felt like something significant had changed. If anything, things felt even grimmer than they had before. Beatrice, not Dimitri, stood to do the daily speech. ¡°Eden¡¯s on the way.¡± She announced simply. ¡°And when she gets back, we¡¯ll be able to return to normal. In the meantime - reincarnators, remember to stay¡­¡± Tom tuned her out and internally swore at the situation. Being stuck in the pseudo-system room was even more boring than pretending to be a little child. The next day let him enter the trial. It was wonderful. The ability to chat freely with April helped his mental state, even though his training was the same as before. Most of the trial was boring, hours upon hours spent unsuccessfully duplicating the complex ritual into the tiny wooden bands, and almost as much spent fighting. There was no fun, no exciting battles - it was just a series of opponents to hone his technical skills. He went through the moves almost robotically, until he could kill his enemies with a single blow. In total, he only spent an hour or two with April, but adult conversation was incredible. He had never been more thankful for that access to her. At next day¡¯s breakfast, the feel of a trainwreck disaster only grew. Once more, Beatrice addressed them. She looked like she had been crying. ¡°I¡¯m going to directly address the rumours that are spreading. They are true. Arnali was killed last night.¡± Shocked silence descended. ¡°The assassin that did it got away. We¡¯re doing everything we can, but none of the resources in town can deal with this threat. We¡¯ve got ritual specialists coming from New Beijing. They¡¯re a month away. If reincarnators stay in their system room, there will be no more deaths. Please, for the sake of all of us, be disciplined.¡± In his system room, Tom fell back on his lounge chair and shut his eyes. He remembered Arnali disciplining Boreas for being so callous about the situation, those first moments after they saw the green banners. Had that been what had doomed him? Had him relaxing his defences for those couple of seconds been the difference, or had it been something that had occurred after? As Tom opened his eyes and looked up at the metal ceiling, he wondered if the outcome would have been different if he had acted sooner. ¡°No, that¡¯s stupid,¡± he told himself. There was no future in going down the path of what ifs. He had done everything he could, and he was not responsible for the choices these other species were making. They were who were killing people, not any lack of action on his part. ¡°Our priests have got involved.¡± Beatrice continued grimly. ¡°A substantial penalty is being applied to MAKROS to extract a suitable cost for this out of competition-level interference. We are being compensated by a hundred thousand ranking points a week. That is to balance the impact that the presence of the assassins is having on the functioning of this orphanage. However, we get nothing for any reincarnators that die. So, stay in your system rooms.¡± Chapter 57.2 – Resolution Internally, Tom whistled at that revelation. That was a significant penalty, and the size of it should have surprised him, but he also knew that it was forbidden for the non-competitors to interfere with competitor species. These assassins fell into a grey area. Them hunting reincarnators was acceptable. Them even inconveniencing non-reincarnators was frowned upon, and them killing non-reincarnators was the extinction of their species-level of no-no. He wondered again how Arnali had been picked out for elimination, and about what he must have done to be seen as a reincarnator by a creature that risked their species being extinguished if it got it wrong. He must have screwed up far worse than that single comment to his friend. Beatrice finished her speech. There were no more interesting nuggets of information. Another week passed. The trial, Tom decided, was the only good thing in his life. He hadn¡¯t unlocked any new skills, but just being there and talking to someone at an adult level was a blessing. Beatrice gave a speech each morning, and there had been no new deaths and no mention of Dimitri. A countdown was set up for how long it would be until the ritualist experts arrived. There were twenty-two days to go. Most of the kids, at least those under ten, had adjusted to the new routine. They were laughing more. It was infuriating, especially as he knew how many assassins lurked all around them. His personal count had reached eight. That was assuming there had been one in Dimitri¡¯s office; and, the more he thought about it, the surer that assumption felt to him. Of course, the total number would be higher than that, as he didn¡¯t have access to the glut of room dedicated to older kids. Tom was lethargically throwing a ball against the wall in boredom while his body was collecting breakfast. It took him a moment to realise something was wrong. His danger sense was not going off. Instantly, he was alert and standing over his map. The assassin that had been in the main gymnasium since the first day was no longer present. That was not the only sign something had changed, but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint what had. Every detail of the room became important to him. Beatrice was preparing to give her usual speech, but Tom only half-tracked what she was saying, playing her at three times normal speed and skipping sections when she got boring to keep his review as close to the real time as possible. As she spoke, he checked the pins he had added to his map on the morning¡¯s trip. The other two assassins had remained in their standard locations. It was just this one that was missing, and he hoped it didn¡¯t mean that someone else had been killed. Tom wished he could look up and check the physical location the assassin had occupied, but his body ignored him. It ate happily while chatting contentedly with his friends. Tom noticed the unexpected activity before his body did. The doors that linked the main hall to the rest of the orphanage were being quietly shut while the number of fighters present had increased to levels not seen since that first day. Something big was going down, and, while it took place, Beatrice was droning on as always, saying the same useless things she had parroted since taking the role. More and more of the children were putting down their cutlery and looking at the unexpected activity. Even his body was staring at the doors. Silence descended upon the dining tables. It was almost impressive. Tom entered his avatar senses, willing to miss some real-time action to experience the explanation first hand. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°As you can see,¡± Beatrice said. ¡°We¡¯re introducing a quarantine for the next few hours. Eden is here and has had success finding the assassins. We will still wait for the ritualists to get here before giving the all-clear, but we believe this will deal with our pest problem.¡± The doors slammed shut, and they were sealed into the room. Time passed. The focus and dedication of the warriors guarding the door didn¡¯t wane. With no entry points and the magical automations not replenishing the consumed supplies by mid-afternoon, all the food was gone. Tom had never really appreciated how the seemingly unlimited food needed to be regularly replaced before now. There was a knocking at the main entrance. It was like someone was hitting it with a battering ram. The leader of the squad closest to it knocked back, producing booms that were just as impressive, and, after two exchanges, the door opened. Tom saw a host of fighters on the other side. Magic sealed the top of the doors, and then trollies filled with food were pushed through. There were about twenty of them, and then, following that, there were bundles of blankets. Then, with the exchange done, the door was shut again, sealing them in once more. Beatrice did another speech confirming the basics. They were staying here until the morning; nine assassins had been eliminated, but they were still searching to see if they could find any more. They slept in the usual groups, with all the five-year-olds sent to the north corner. The drama Tom had expected to wake him over night never took place. It was weird. In the morning, they ate the food delivered yesterday, and then another knocking session occurred. This time, when the door opened, Dimitri strode into the gymnasium with a grim look. Tom focused on his speech. ¡°We¡¯ve eliminated eleven. The red banners stay up until the ritualists get here, but we think the danger has passed. That¡¯s we think - we don¡¯t know, so don¡¯t do anything stupid. For now, you¡¯re going back to your standard sessions.¡± Tom mentally groaned. Another three weeks of this meant a disaster; on the other hand, he understood the need. At the same time, he wondered if, with his Danger Sense, he could push things further. Given its apparent sensitivity, he should be safe to treat the isolation rooms as normal. He was in the midst of listening to a young-looking Chinese woman read The Very Hungry Caterpillar when there was a stir at the front of the classroom. Everyone looked up. Dimitri entered, with Everlyn at his side. Inside his system room, Tom froze and stared at her in shock. She was still as hauntingly beautiful as ever, even if there were harder lines to her face. She had aged a few years, but it didn¡¯t detract from her beauty. Very little had changed, apart from the fact she now looked like she was mid-to-late twenties as opposed to early ones, which, in his opinion, was a better age. ¡°Carry on,¡± Dimitri ordered. ¡°Please, ignore our presence.¡± Tom remained in his system room and cursed when his body turned away from the uninteresting adults back to the infinitely more boring book. Without hesitation, Tom cranked up the volume controls in the system room. ¡°Which one is he?¡± Everlyn asked, after a couple of minutes of watching, in a voice loud enough for the entire class to hear. He had felt her eyes linger on him, but he was not sure if they did so for any longer than they had lingered on the other boys in the class. ¡°Eden, you know I can¡¯t answer that! And even asking is wrong.¡± ¡°You can tell me. If I come back after the naming ceremony, it¡¯ll be obvious.¡± ¡°Please, don¡¯t do that. That¡¯s abusing the priest¡¯s instructions. Promise me that you won¡¯t.¡± He hissed at her. ¡°I won¡¯t. I know the rules, but¡­¡± Tears were running down her face now. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s like¡­ so much was left unsaid.¡± Tom felt his heart breaking, but the force acting for him, mimicking a child with none of the memories from the previous life, ignored her and focused on the book that was being read to him. He could replay the few seconds of vision as many times as he desired, but he wanted to see more of her. His younger self didn¡¯t care, though. The book was far more interesting than some random drama between adults, even if Dimitri was involved. ¡°I do. I understand, but, Eden - you were the one who put these rules in place. You know they¡¯re there for a reason.¡± ¡°I know, but¡­¡± ¡°When he¡¯s strong enough to protect himself, then¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s another twenty years,¡± she snapped angrily, interrupting the other man. ¡°I don¡¯t want to wait that long.¡± ¡°Eden, these are your rules. What¡¯s one more sacrifice after everything else you¡¯ve done?¡± ¡°A lot, Dim, it¡¯s a lot. It¡¯s so hard. I just want something for myself.¡± ¡°But you can¡¯t, Eden. This is about more than you.¡± ¡°I know. I know. Let¡¯s go. I can¡¯t be here. We have to leave.¡± She broke off, and, sobbing in his arms, was drawn away. Tom, still in the system room, felt terrible. Chapter 58.1 – Fallout It felt longer, but only a day had passed since Dimitri had declared the orphanage to be most likely safe. Not that it had changed anything. The banners were still red, which meant Tom was restricted to the cloying isolation of the system room, but he hoped that this meeting would change things. The unknowns, unsurprisingly, worried him the most. Judging by the chatter that slipped from the volunteers towards the children, and then into the gossip mill, the particulars of this attack had been unusual. Tom knew, in his heart, that his existence had triggered this. He was not responsible as such, but at the same time he kind of was. Each of those deaths added to the contribution he had to make. He had a lot to pay back. Impatiently, he sat outside Dimitri¡¯s office ¨C or, at least, the bit with his adult mind did. His treacherous body was happily playing with some monster figurines. Hopefully, he was about to find out the truth about what had happened. The study door opened. ¡°Ah, Ta, it¡¯s good to see you. Please, come in.¡± His body responded and followed Dimitri¡¯s directions. ¡°It was only supposed to be a week between follow-ups, but I was otherwise engaged for a bit there. Sorry about that.¡± His body said nothing. Everyone knew that Dimitri had been away, doing important stuff. After all, it had been he who had brought Eden back to save them. Tom tensed as his body passed the room¡¯s threshold into the study. Last time, because of the wardings in place, he hadn¡¯t even known about the hairy assassin until he was inside the room with it. He knew Eden had gone through and eliminated them, but, deep down, he still expected Danger Sense to trigger. Nothing happened. Surrounded by metal walls, Tom sighed in relief and watched on the screens as the other man triggered the wards without fuss until they glowed. ¡°Sit, sit,¡± Dimitri insisted. Tom was getting much better at speeding up speech and then skipping sections. This way, he could follow conversations in real time even while handicapped by the time dilation. ¡°I¡¯m not going to beat around the bush. I know you¡¯re a reincarnator.¡± Dimitri said firmly. Then the caretaker¡¯s eyes went wide, and he clutched at his neck. A pained cough escaped his lips. Instantly, Tom took control of his body. That declaration, as per the title descriptions, meant that the current environment was protected and safe to be himself in. ¡°Shit, I should have known better.¡± Dimitri complained, wincing as he coughed hoarsely. ¡°That is not a workaround, and I admit I¡¯m a bit of an idiot for trying. The title does not like being used as a canary in the coal mine.¡± He coughed again, and Tom saw a splash of blood on his hand. ¡°I should have expected that. Coming to the more pleasant things, Tom, how are you?¡± Healing magic wrapped around his throat, but Dimitri still cleared his throat uncomfortably. ¡°And, of course, it can¡¯t be healed. I think she took me abusing the title as a form of blasphemy.¡± Tom wasn¡¯t sure what to say. ¡°I¡¯m serious about my question. Mentally, how are you holding up?¡± ¡°It¡¯s frustrating. Especially not knowing. What happened? Why did you revert to green banners when you did?¡± He sighed. ¡°The Ladorin, the second species, were new.¡± Tom hesitated. He was surprised by that admission and not sure how to take it. ¡°What do you mean? Are they some sort of construction? A summons? Because they couldn¡¯t be a new species, surely?¡± ¡°Not new new. We know of them as a species, but this was the first time they were used against us. They¡¯re a terror race from deep in the Underground. As in, literally years of travel away from here. The logistics to get so many to attack was impressive.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Different facts weren¡¯t coming together properly in Tom¡¯s head. Years of travel meant this must have been pre-planned. And if it took that much lead time, then he was off the hook. ¡°Are you serious? Years of pre-planning! That means this raid wasn¡¯t related to me?¡± ¡°Oh, wrong conclusion. It was definitely about you. The priests are stirred up.¡± ¡°But you said years. Did they teleport?¡± According to his knowledge of Existentia, teleporting over that type of distance was impossible. An ancient power might have a solution, but Tom doubted it. When Dimitri said years of travel, he was not talking in terms of a mortal person. The standard was to use rank thirty-two, which meant they were eight times faster than a human. The assassins were clearly stronger than that, but not enough to make that sort of distance trivial. ¡°No, or, at least, not much. They were positioned between our towns, and, when the ritual got a lock on you, they moved. It only took four days to reach us, which is still scary, given that it would have taken me weeks.¡± ¡°Do you know, or are you guessing?¡± ¡°That hypothesis has been priest-confirmed. So, we know. The fact you had sixteen rank-hundred assassins and four support staff waiting for you to emerge for years is worrisome. However, I think such an investment goes beyond the level of reasonable. Hopefully, this will cost the responsible GOD a lot.¡± ¡°Did you say rank-hundred?¡± Dimitri nodded. ¡°But then how did you defeat them? Eden can¡¯t be that strong. You¡¯re not rank-hundred, are you?¡± Dimitri laughed. ¡°No, I¡¯m not close to that, but if Eden took them on, then she might have been able to kill them all. No, the cleanup was trivial for a different reason. It was because they need to hide from our divination magic, they made an oath on the GODs not to harm any human apart from reincarnators and to avoid my Danger Sense equivalent; a specific oath not to hurt me. They were literally unable to fight back.¡± Dimitri chuckled darkly. ¡°It was good experience. I like enemies that are sworn not to hurt me¡±. ¡°Why would they go to that extreme?¡± ¡°Do you know why I¡¯m in this role?¡± ¡°To keep me, us, safe?¡± ¡°Exactly. I don¡¯t have a precognition affinity, but I have high-tiered and highly-levelled skills. If anything comes into the orphanage that is a potential threat to me, I would feel it instantly. Our enemies are not stupid. They understand that, and, to counter it all, the assassins that come in, take an oath not to hurt me specifically, and, more widely, any locals with precognition abilities.¡± ¡°That¡¯s genius. They¡¯re totally exploiting the system.¡± ¡°That¡¯s frustrating, is what it goddamn is! It¡¯s why we needed to wait for the adventurers to get back. They returned, and we killed the Cotalda as usual. We thought we were safe then, like every other time, but they had brought a new species to help them. Both higher-ranked than before and with stronger racial gifts to protect them. We eliminated the Cotalda, relaxed, because we thought we were safe, while the others remained watching and ready to eliminate any reincarnators who let their guard down. It was a diabolical plan.¡± ¡°A false sense of security,¡± Tom whispered. ¡°A strategy that could only be deployed once, before we adapted.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Dimitri agreed grimly. ¡°They set a trap that they¡¯ve been priming for forty years while waiting for you to emerge. I reckon that, at any point for the last couple of decades, they could have pulled the trigger and wiped out a generation of reincarnators. Those sixteen could have been split across all three orphanages. You can¡¯t imagine the disaster that would have caused. Instead, your emerging had spooked them into coming here. And if it wasn¡¯t for you having an unreasonable Danger Sense, they would have got everyone. Their plan would have worked. Of course, they would have cleared only one orphanage instead of three, but it would still have been devastating for us.¡± ¡°It was more than just Danger Sense.¡± Tom told him. Dimitri crooked his head curiously. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I could see through their illusions.¡± ¡°See through! No, impossible. You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. How the hell could you do that? Eden didn¡¯t suggest you had anything like that in your old life.¡± ¡°Because I didn¡¯t. I think¡­ um¡­ You know, my status is screwed, but in this case I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s a title I just gained. Danger Sense told me they were there, and then they were testing everyone in the isolation rooms in an attempt to scare a reincarnator out. Frighten them and leave them effectively broken for ages. The pseudo-system room¡¯s acting skill had my body staring almost blankly at a camouflaged one for twenty minutes. The pseudo-system room has crappy time dilation, but it lets you replay a memory perfectly. That¡¯s what I did. I replayed the scene over and over again.¡± Dimitri burst out laughing. ¡°That¡¯s awesome. I would never¡­ that¡¯s so funny. They came to kill you, and all they did was rank you up. Speaking of which, I gather you earned these outside the trial?¡± ¡°Obviously.¡± ¡°So you don¡¯t actually know what you¡¯ve got yet.¡± He was instantly digging into his spatial bag to produce the ritual status screen. ¡°It might be too late for you to get the names, but in the time we¡¯ve got before you have to leave, you can probably make fifty or so attempts. If you¡¯re lucky, you might hit the right one.¡± Chapter 58.2 – Fallout He placed it on the small table in front of them and Tom immediately started fiddling with it to try to find the description of what he had just earned. ¡°Out of interest, how did you figure out the nature of the threat so quickly when I pulled your ear?¡± Before Dimitri could answer, the description appeared on the screen. Tom guessed he shouldn¡¯t have been surprised, because he was pretty sure he had gotten this skill, and this process was only confirming it. Skill: Advanced Danger Sense ¨C Tier 2 ¨C Level 9 Reveal imminent threats. Threshold Bonus 8: Includes threats to party members as well as to self. Dimitri, who had stood to see the screen, nodded approvingly. ¡°That¡¯s a solid, broad upgrade of the standard skill. The advanced level takes it from physical threats to more conceptual ones, like enemies focused on data-gathering.¡± Tom stared at it. The fact it was level nine was already impressive, but then he guessed he had been training it for weeks against rank-hundred stealth and information specialists. It getting ramped up so much shouldn¡¯t be such a surprise, given that context. Even so, the levels he had were remarkable. In tier-zero equivalent, that was rank thirty-six, and, in the tutorial, it had taken him half a decade to get his first spell to that level, which probably highlighted the peril he had been in more than anything else. ¡°It¡¯s a good skill. As for your question,¡± he pointed at the screen. ¡°That kind of answers you. I knew about your training with the bats, your precognition level, and oaths that assassins usually take. I figured if you had developed an ability, then you would be much more likely to sense them even though my skills are at the tier-six level.¡± ¡°Tier-six. With fifty percent boost with each tier. Your skill is five times more potent.¡± ¡°That calculation excludes affinities, and, with yours at ninety-five and¡­¡± he frowned. ¡°At level nine, yours is probably as strong or slightly stronger than mine. Anyway, I figured that we had somehow missed an assassin, so I reacted accordingly.¡± ¡°But then why delay for so long?¡± The angry question burst out before he could help himself. ¡°It was a full five minutes before you yelled out code red.¡±. ¡°Don¡¯t get distracted,¡± Dimitri reprimanded mildly. ¡°Keep trying to find out the title that lets you see through illusions.¡± With a flush of heat in his cheeks, Tom returned his attention to the ritual screen and guessed at another title name. The screen failed to respond. ¡°I waited because they came for you. If I had called code red immediately, they would have been able to guess you were the cause. So, I delayed. I spoke to every five- and six-year-old, and four-year-olds for good measure, too, and only then acted. They¡¯re not dumb. They must have known or suspected someone passed the message, but they couldn¡¯t see who.¡± Tom shut his eyes. ¡°Sorry, that should have been obvious.¡± ¡°I hated waiting, but it was for the best. They only got Arnali after that screw-up, but it could have been worse, and, to be honest, he might have been uncovered in advance of the green banners. There may have been nothing we could have ever done to save him.¡± Tom didn¡¯t believe that for a moment, and he doubted Dimitri did either, but he was glad the other man had said it. ¡°Then, when I brought you in here and couldn¡¯t talk to you like you were a reincarnator, I knew the truth. I can¡¯t believe,¡± he glanced up to the left corner. ¡°That one had snuck in here to compromise communications.¡± That wording was deliberate and sounded suspicious. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± ¡°They were intercepting all the messages to Eden and others.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you just use the auction house?¡± Dimitri shook his head. ¡°No, the GODs shut that down. I won¡¯t call it a loophole, because it was there deliberately but, once we began linking the settlements, they stripped the ability to do targeted communication through the auction house. Now everything is done by message spell or courier. I sent multiple ones, and they were intercepting every attempt. The moment I realised one was in here I guessed what had happened to my messages, and went personally.¡± Tom was horrified at the implication. The body count was far more than he had realised. Multiple couriers had been sent and apparently intercepted. ¡°How many died?¡± he asked flatly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not on you.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Dimitri, I¡¯m not a child. How many?¡± ¡°In total, I sent almost thirty people.¡± ¡°Thirty? What the hell. I thought they weren¡¯t allowed to touch anyone but reincarnators.¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t all die. They were skirting a fine line. Technically, it was an operation to hunt reincarnators, which they¡¯re kind of allowed to do. They tried to capture rather than kill, but at least three died, and another four are missing.¡± Tom winced at that. ¡°It¡¯s a personal tragedy, but not a humanity-level one. They were all unnerved.¡± He had said the last bit like it was a slur. ¡°What do you mean, unnerved?¡± ¡°What can I say... The unnerved are ones that have given up, those who had settled for mediocrity.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a bit harsh.¡± ¡°It is, and it isn¡¯t.¡± Dimitri said quietly. ¡°Mostly I pity them, but considering the risks I¡¯ve taken and continue to do so, it¡¯s also galling to see others lose heart like that. And don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s not that I don¡¯t understand where they¡¯re coming from. It¡¯s difficult to maintain the rage for decades. I¡¯ve had issues with motivation, but never for more than a week. To watch such potential being squandered¡­ It¡¯s hard, and it¡¯s not like they didn¡¯t try. Most sacrificed a lot before they became unnerved. They deserve respect. and them dying is sad, but do you know how many good friends I¡¯ve lost?¡± ¡°So have I.¡± ¡°Yes, at some point we all become slightly desensitised to loss. It doesn¡¯t help that in some ways them dying like this was better for humanity than them surviving. I imagine the penalties DEUS will extract for those deaths, and for the twenty plus people being incapacitated for a month by a directed out-of-competition force, will be significant.¡± ¡°Damn. That¡¯s why everything took so long. They killed the communication line.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get the wrong impression, Tom. We¡¯re not just dependent on Eden. There were dozens of humans who could help, and four were close enough to contact. The Ladorin blocked me from contacting the other three as well. The moment I managed to get any of those four to come, their operation was over. They knew that, and did everything they could to prevent it. This was very well-planned. They even pre-planned distractions to draw people away.¡± ¡°They drew people away?¡± Dimitri nodded grimly. ¡°Some Bugs,¡± he said bugs like they were a curse to make it clear he was referring to the competitor species. ¡°Managed to establish a colony nearby. Given how fast that cursed species expands, we had to act to eliminate them immediately.¡± ¡°But aren¡¯t they years of travel away? I thought it was impossible that we¡¯d ever engage them head-on.¡± ¡°Yes. They snuck down. They arrived about a decade ago and had been suppressing their growth so we wouldn¡¯t notice them early. The operation was very well-planned.¡± Tom shut his eyes. It was extraordinary, almost unbelievable, that so much effort was being put into killing him. It had to be personal. But how? For a moment, he recalled his recent brush with an echo of a memory. There was an encounter with a figure, a figure filled with power¡­ a A terror started to seize his muscles, white static descended and ever so briefly enveloped him. The soothing love of that energy pushed away the other, and, with a jerk, he forced himself to not think any more in that direction. The why didn¡¯t matter as much as the facts. He was a target. ¡°They¡¯re going to attack again, aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what we think.¡± Dimitri agreed. ¡°It¡¯ll be years before they can gather sufficiently skilled assassins. I don¡¯t know what form the next raid will take, but my guess is they¡¯ll go the carpet-bombing approach.¡± ¡°Shit,¡± Tom cursed bitterly. ¡°More people are going to die.¡± Dimitri shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s the opposite. We¡¯re too far away. Any operations they launch would have happened anyway. This way, we force the timing, and we know they¡¯ll hit this town instead of the others.¡± He smiled with bloodlust. ¡°Yes. Your being here as a lure is good for us.¡± Tom frowned internally at that attitude. Then again, he understood the cold calculations at the heart of it. They were all here to die to save humanity¡¯s future. Knowing where a threat was coming from meant they could make the enemy bleed. Any of them dying was worthwhile if it hurt the enemy more. Tom could empathize with the reasoning of using his presence here as a lure ¨C it was an advantage that would let them set the terms of the engagement. Humanity could fortify one town instead of three. Dimitri tapped the machine, reminding him of where his focus was supposed to be. Mentally, he concentrated on an alternative concept to the image that he had been pursuing: a title that let him see assassins or threats rather than a general illusion piercing ability. Possibly one linked to Danger Sense. Nothing happened. For what must have been the fortieth time, he repeated the same concept, but with a slightly different focus between the components. To his shock, the screen in front of him updated. Title: Reveal Hidden Threats: He read the details hungrily. Next time creatures stalked him like that, he would be able to see them. Not only would illusions under tier-eight fail to stop his vision - it was clear the title was a stacking one. Theoretically, it would let him break anything once his Danger Sense had identified it as a threat. Beside him, Dimitri whistled appreciatively. ¡°I know this is building on an existing ability, but that¡¯s still impressive. There¡¯s a tier-eight skill I¡¯ve been eyeing that does similar.¡± ¡°What would that cost, five million?¡± Tom guessed. A number that would take Dimitri a year to gather, even if all of his earned experience was directed at a single skill. Tom, once he started earning experience, didn¡¯t expect to get more than a million a year for at least half a decade. ¡°Yep,¡± Dimitri agreed quietly. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I don¡¯t have it yet. And you, you fucker got it for free!¡± Chapter 59.1 – Choosing a Name Tom could clearly see the envy in Dimitri¡¯s eyes. His new title, Reveal Hidden Threats, was going to be incredibly useful, especially when paired with a precognition ability. After all, due to his affinity, the latter was as strong as a newly purchased tier-six alternative. ¡°It¡¯s an incredible title, and make sure you don¡¯t pigeonhole it. It¡¯s not only useful in this type of artificial situation,¡± Dimitri explained. ¡°In higher-ranked areas, there are lots of magical hidden ambush predators. I¡¯ve been in teams in the wilds where we¡¯ve known that there was a threat in our path, but there was nothing we could do to identify it. Almost every mission, I¡¯ve had to back track multiple times because of something like that. This is far more valuable than you realise.¡± ¡°I doubt that.¡± Tom told him. ¡°I can see its value. I survived for over forty years in the tutorial. I know what¡¯s out there.¡± Dimitri shook his head vigorously. ¡°No, no. You really don¡¯t. It gets worse at higher ranks. The tutorial, for all its realism, was very much like training wheels. For example, did you reach rank eighty there?¡± Tom grimaced. He hadn¡¯t. He hadn¡¯t even gotten close to that number. The other man was right. For all that, he had been the most experienced person when first coming to Existentia. Now, however, that was far from true. Everyone from Earth had at least twenty years on him, and some might have had as much as fifty. He needed to listen to advice, because these people knew more than he did. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡± Dimitri continued with a sympathetic frown. ¡°Most reincarnators go through this crisis. We were exceptional mainly because we¡¯ve been able to survive in the tutorial for longer. It gave us more contribution points and a better foundation to make a difference in Existentia. That advantage we¡¯ve had, the advantage of extra years of experience, had been stripped away. That¡¯s one thing, but there¡¯s also structural problems. While the tutorial threw challenge after challenge at you, the experience awarded for your success was far less than what you get here. It was a training world, and, for whatever reason DEUS wanted slower progression there. So, that¡¯s what she got.¡± Tom looked up sharply. ¡°Is that actually proven? I sort of felt like that in my first life ¨C that experience was easier to get, but I thought I was just being lucky.¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s proven. Experience in Existentia is between three and six times richer than what you got in the tutorial.¡±, Dimitri was packing away the ritual status screen as he lectured. ¡°Our time is almost up; any last questions?¡± ¡°Can I use the isolation rooms?¡± The big man hesitated for a moment. ¡°I can¡¯t guarantee they¡¯re safe. I know they probably are, but I¡¯d advise you not to. The wider orphanage should definitely be considered off-limits, even if you¡¯re training spells under your clothes.¡± Tom had a sinking feeling. ¡°You¡¯ve noticed that?¡± ¡°There¡¯s been a couple of times you¡¯ve got sloppy. Come on, Tom. Don¡¯t respond to the criticism like you¡¯re a puppy being told off. You didn¡¯t do much wrong. And I only picked up on it because I was watching you specifically. If your training mistakes reached a level that I thought you were putting yourself at risk, I would have stepped in to warn you. In summary, definitely no general training in the orphanage, and, as for the isolation rooms¡­¡± He pondered the problem for a moment, stroking his chin. ¡°No. Don¡¯t do anything in them. The risk is low, but it¡¯s there, and I don¡¯t believe that the three weeks of training you¡¯ll lose before the place is declared safe is worth whatever residual risk is out there.¡± Another three weeks locked in his system room. It was almost enough to make him cry. His shoulders slumped. ¡°That sucks.¡± ¡°So would dying.¡± Dimitri patted him on the back. ¡°Take the training loss. Given this raid already had one layer of deception, I think it is a definite possibility it has another. And you¡¯re being a bit precious about maximising your training time. When I was your age, I spent half the time huddled in cave systems, hoping the nearby monsters wouldn¡¯t notice us. If I practiced anything during those periods, I got walloped. A little boredom is fine.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Fuck you. You¡¯ve got an answer or anecdote for everything, don¡¯t you?¡± Dimitri laughed. ¡°That¡¯s my job, Tom. But time¡¯s up, so we need to finish.¡± The wards on the walls unpowered themselves, and, with some more psychologist speak, he saw Tom off. Two days later, Tom sighed in relief as he entered the trial. April threw him straight into training, but during the first hour of his crafting she sat with him and chattered. His quality went way down as a result, but he didn¡¯t care. After that, he transitioned into fighting and crafting by himself. He was halfway through the session, and was converting lines of the wood into patterns that matched the metal framework in front of him while barely glancing at the master three-dimensional ritual that took up the whole table. The changes were taking place at the microscopic level. Even those that extended to the surface were all but invisible to his eyes. Only the control awarded by his skill and the effort he had put into manually manipulating mana allowed him to change it basically at the cellular level. A millimetre of the wood was transformed, with dozens of lines added in the tiny speck of space, and then he moved onto the next section. The massive metal framework April had created to show what he needed to do was rotating as he progressed, bringing the section he was working on to the closest point to him. Minutes passed; finally, he completed the last step. Tom was aware of the mistakes he had made, so he tossed it carelessly into the discard pile. That one had been close, but the physical ritual he had created within the wood had been ridiculously lopsided. ¡°Don¡¯t be so hasty.¡± April scolded him. ¡°I¡¯m not. That didn¡¯t work. The middle third was too thick.¡± ¡°I saw, but all the lines are there, with mostly the right thickness. Yes, the proportions are off in places, but it still might be good enough to sell.¡± ¡°Are you serious? That¡¯s worse than the last five you¡¯ve rejected.¡± ¡°The last five had critical failure errors. If I¡¯m not mistaken, this will only have an efficiency problem. Fill it.¡± With a sigh, he focused on his other skill and filled it with precognition mana. Two minutes later he finished the process, and April smiled. The band he held vanished. ¡°Sold.¡± ¡°Are you serious? I¡¯m profitable?¡± She laughed and shook her head. ¡°No. Not yet. But you got most of the cost of the attempt back.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t understand why I¡¯m being charged for these attempts. I¡¯m not good enough to turn a profit? Trial-created materials should be free. Can¡¯t I use them instead of shop bought ones?¡± April sighed at that question. ¡°I was kind of hoping you didn¡¯t ask that. You know that DEUS is one of the seven in the competition.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°The rules I operate under ultimately become a negotiated outcome.¡± She smiled sadly. ¡°Once you reach a certain level of proficiency, you have to use real-world materials.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t I at least recycle the failures? I don¡¯t like the debt this wasteful disposing of materials is creating.¡± ¡°Of course we can, but I feel it¡¯s harmful to your long-term credit position. Recycling costs time; it also results in slight changes in the converted bracelets. Even if you try to revert things perfectly, there¡¯ll be lines of cells that are more prone to being adjusted. Rather than,¡± she tapped her head. ¡°Using your mind you subconsciously follow those. The training becomes less efficient, potentially detrimental, even, if you recycle one too many times. You feel like you¡¯re doing better, because every real band ends up getting sold for profit, but in a year¡¯s time all those bad habits would mean you¡¯ll be making bracelets three times slower.¡± ¡°You could have just said. ¡®In my judgement this approach is better long term,¡¯ and I would have fallen into line.¡± She laughed. ¡°I could have, but would you have believed me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°No,¡± she squealed in outrage. ¡°There¡¯s no way you would have.¡± He chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± He held up his hands in defeat. ¡°I¡¯m too suspicious for my own good. Thanks for explaining the reasoning, it helps. It¡¯s just¡­ well, it¡¯s frustrating. I got my first partial success, and the attempt still costs. The whole process sucks.¡± ¡°It does,¡± she agreed without hesitation. ¡°But these rules were made to hinder as much as to help. If you put in the effort, you profit. If you don¡¯t...¡± she shrugged. ¡°No reincarnators, but a large minority of normal children never turn a profit. It¡¯s heartbreaking, to be honest. As for you...¡± She grabbed his hands. ¡°Tom, this is progress. Keep pushing. I think you¡¯ll still get Spear Mastery before I can afford to buy the skill to teach you Power Strike, but they¡¯ll finish close together. You¡¯re two weeks ahead of schedule. You¡¯re doing great.¡± Tom returned to work. He produced seven more bands, and only two ended up rejected in totality. The others recouped most of his costs, but not all. ¡°This feels hopeless. I thought I had solved that one.¡± April shrugged. ¡°Have a break. Go kill some monsters. Then, when you come back, try a different routine. Maybe do it faster. Sometimes people overthink these things. By this stage, you know the ritual form inside out. Going slow and deliberate might actually be hampering your progress. For physical creations, trying to trace a design is significantly more cumbersome than creating them fluidly. I think, there is a good chance that if you don¡¯t give yourself time to think, you¡¯ll get a better result.¡± Chapter 59.2 – Choosing a Name Tom considered the advice. What she was suggesting felt weird to him. It was almost like she believed that a lower level of focus would make him better at duplicating the ritual. It was so ridiculous that he wanted to reject it outright, but April hadn¡¯t led him astray yet. While he convinced himself that logic in this case was superior to his flawed human instincts, he threw himself happily into the fight she had designed. The decision wasn¡¯t a contest. There was no world where he was going to reject the advice of a million-year-old expert who had proved herself every time. It didn¡¯t matter what his gut thought. Next time he sat down to do the ritual, he would do exactly what she had suggested. She had him fighting a series of weapon-wielding monsters. All of them possessed the relevant basic skills that included both a mastery ability and at least one basic enhancement skill, such as Power Strike, Enhanced Sharpness or Heavy Hammer. The challenge was cathartic. It also demonstrated the strengths and weaknesses of the bipedal form that he had. Monsters with four or more legs were quicker and could shift directions faster, but those strengths came with limitations. There was more volume for him to strike at, and they didn¡¯t have the same level of rotational capabilities to dodge. Those weaknesses might have been an issue with the rank of creatures that he was fighting, but the difference at his level was noticeable. The multi-legged opponents lacked the range of movement that the bipeds seemed to have when evading enemies strikes. The multiple legs made them faster across the ground, but less nimble. The multi-armed ones, however, were just outright harder to fight, but that¡¯s what happened when you had four, or six, or, in his final fight, a monster with ten arms. How a single rank-two organism effectively used multiple two-handed weapons, along with numerous single-handed ones, was a mystery to him. He made the kill and kicked the two-handed sword away. It wasn¡¯t anywhere near as heavy as it looked, but he had noticed that when parrying it. The monster¡¯s strength might have been less than his own, but it had still felt like he had been fighting five people simultaneously. It had been a long, but rewarding fight. Tom assessed his body. It didn¡¯t feel functional. While he could now patch up most of the damage that had been done with his limited healing during the battle, that capability still had limits, and he suspected he had gone past the point of continuing. He had two cracked fingers, broken ribs, and, he suspected, a compound fracture on his thigh from the hammer hit. While magic had let him manage the injury for the fight, continuing to attempt to do so would be a mistake. In real life, this was where he fled the battlefield. ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± he called out cheerfully. He was instantly teleported back to be sitting in the caf¨¦ once more, with his body restored to perfect condition. He followed April¡¯s advice and attempted to rush the creation process. Almost immediately, a line formed wrong. ¡°Damn it.¡± With a curse, he stopped and went to fix the obvious error. ¡°No, don¡¯t stop like that.¡± April snapped at him. ¡°Finish the whole thing with one effort.¡± ¡°But that was a critical error.¡± ¡°So? This is training.¡± He remembered the earlier explanation, and, grumbling he finished it. When it was complete, he held it out for April to evaluate. She stuck out a tongue. ¡°You failed to connect a required line early, and then a couple of other times, so it¡¯s absolute trash. Completely unusable.¡± He glared at her, which only made her grin harder. The bracelet, his credits, all of his hard work - it didn¡¯t matter. The wood crumbled in her hand as she squeezed it. The dust fell through the air, vanishing before it dirtied her clothes. ¡°Do it again.¡± April ordered. ¡°I think it is almost falling into place for you.¡± Tom trusted her and did exactly what she asked. It might have been close to clicking, but it didn¡¯t click. He left the trial session frustrated both at his mounting debt and complete lack of success. Another week passed, and Tom learned that the naming ceremony was being postponed until the place was declared clean. Given that Dimitri didn¡¯t trust the isolation rooms, it was a decision Tom had been expecting. Bored out of his brain, he went into the trial once more, and was put straight into his crafting. In defiance of his previous instructions, he deliberately slowed himself down. It still went fast, just not the backbreaking pace that April had previously been encouraging. He finished it and passed it back. To his surprise, she nodded approvingly. ¡°That¡¯s a pass. You can do better, but your debt grew lesser.¡± A sense of elation shot through him. ¡°Are you serious? Just like that?¡± ¡°Like that? Really? Seriously Tom, you¡¯ve put months of effort into this. It¡¯s far from being just like that.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­ This one didn¡¯t seem much better than my other attempts.¡± ¡°You might think so, but the main issue with the other ones was how disjointed they were. This one has issues, but at its core it¡¯s a single, flowing piece of work. It worked because you listened to your Sensei like a good boy.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be like that. I¡¯m your Sensei. Come on, say it.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Sensei, please educate me further.¡± She giggled. ¡°My pleasure.¡± Flutes of champagne appeared on the table. ¡°For now, you need to have a break.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not drinking. The trial session has barely started.¡± ¡°Thirty minutes, then I¡¯ll flush your system.¡± ¡°Twenty.¡± ¡°Done,¡± she said immediately, with a look of triumph. ¡°I would have let myself be negotiated down to ten.¡± It was fun, and the small celebration at the start set the mood for the rest of the trial. He left the session very happy with his progress. Just like with Danger Sense, he could feel that his Spear Mastery skill was close to completing, and he was starting to pay off his debt that he had accrued in learning his crafting skills. Everything was looking up. Then the atmosphere around the orphanage shifted again. Volunteers, outsiders he had never seen before, turned up. Tom saw them working in teams to draw rituals and activate them. He searched for Harry amongst them, but didn¡¯t see his friend. That was another person to attempt to find and catch up with once he was older, but thinking of him brought up the memories of Everlyn ¨Cmemories he was trying to suppress. Judging by the desperation and the hurt that he had heard in her voice, the fifty years between his death and rebirth had not been kind to her. She hadn¡¯t felt like the woman he remembered, and he wondered if the rest of his friends, if they still lived, would they be the same. When he caught up with them, would he discover people so jaded or battered by the passing years that they were no longer the companions he had fought with? Would his friends be gone, even if they were physically still alive? Was he going to discover that Keikain was a changed person? Probably not, Tom decided after a moment of thought. Keikain was never going to be anything but a prick. But the others? Toni? Rahmat? With Harry, he could see the pressure of years of struggle transforming them into something different. They might not be the same people. On the fourth day after the first of the ritualists arrived, he entered the main gymnasium to see that the banners had turned to green. The difference for anyone not reincarnated was small. The vast majority had been treating the issue as having been solved for the last couple of weeks. Tom took control of his own body, even though it felt weird. Immediately after breakfast, all the children his age who had gone through the bloodline improvement ritual were directed toward the naming ceremony. Tom tuned out the speech Dimitri gave, but basically the expectation was that everyone would choose a name when they went into the room. All names presented would be those known to have been held by humans who had died in the competition. Tom was the eighteenth to enter, and when he got in, he felt the wards go up to make it a private space. He had ten minutes, and he had to select before then. To keep up appearances, he decided to see what the room could do. He touched a button, and a random name rang out while being simultaneously displayed on the screen in large letters. ¡°Ajax.¡± The name was spelled in big letters, and there were even brief bios of two Ajaxes who had died in the competition. The most recent death was twenty years ago. Ajax was a training and battle fanatic who, at his death, had over two hundred different skills and spells that he used in combat. One of his favourites was a heavily modified spatial fold applied to weapons to bypass the armour of the monsters he fought. Judging by that description, the man had to be cracked a little in the head. Power was not gained in this world from breadth of abilities, but by enhancing a single one - either by advancing it up the tiers or increasing it in levels. Even if he had a choice, he wasn¡¯t taking that. He pressed once more, and another name appeared. ¡°Kai.¡± This name had two different notable blurbs, but they were very similar in attitude. They had both obtained a lot of skills and impressed everyone by how high levelled they had got their core abilities. Which resulted in them both being described as conscientious and precocious. There were differences. One had been a singer with a stunning spatial storage, while the other had seemed to have focused on elemental magic. The similarities, despite them being different people amused him, and something about the name actually resonated in Tom. It felt appropriate for him to take, and he guessed he was going to end up in a similar place with the mass of skills he was planning to develop over the next decade. But, as nice as the name sounded, it was not for him. The advice he had been given by the priests was to choose his own name. They wouldn¡¯t be so strong about that point if it didn¡¯t provide some level of protection. He pressed again this time with a focused thought in his mind. ¡°Tom.¡± His name rang out in the room. Six blurbs appeared. Died in a tragic accident while surfing on the backs of a stampeding herd of rank forty Lightning Bisons. Tom snorted at that when he read it. He wondered whether, to a five-year-old, that was a point to sell a name or not. They didn¡¯t need to know how to read, because a single finger touch caused the room to narrate the passage. He scanned down and found his own blurb. Beloved by many. A genius whose ideas were critical in shaping the lives and future of humanity. He elevated those around him to greatness by filling any niche the team required without complaint or request for favour. He will be remembered as the most important member of the Heroes of Humanity. Tom swallowed. They had cared, they had noticed. Given the context, he was not surprised by the intensity of the emotion that overtook him. It was a few brief words, ancient history, and it shouldn¡¯t be having this effect on him, but it did. He wiped away the tears trickling down his cheek and selected the name. The machine throbbed, and a badge was printed out. He held it like it was a treasure. This was his name. No more would he be saddled by the first word he had said. From now on, everyone would know him as Tom, and he would have this new version be even better known than the last. Beloved by many. A genius whose ideas were critical in shaping the lives and future of humanity. That was a sentiment he would live up to. He put the badge on, and, after making sure that his face was dry with a clean and a heal, he smiled bravely and went to see what names everyone else had chosen. What he had expected to be a simple confirmation had been surprisingly emotional. It was the fact of who had signed off on his blurb that had done him in. As declared by all six survivors of the blended Heroes of Humanity. Only six, and the word blended told him that included Selena¡¯s and Vidja¡¯s teams. It was a message to him. There had been almost twenty that had left to do his quest, and only six had survived. He wondered who counted amongst them, and, selfishly, he wished it was his friends. He knew that two of those six still lived. The breaking Everlyn with all the personal baggage between them and Keikain. Out of all the possible survivors, why did it have to be those two. He thought and immediately hated himself for thinking it. Everlyn, for all her faults, did not deserve that. Only six had survived, and fifty years had passed. Anything could have happened to the other four. As he left the room, he was starting to cry again. Chapter 60.1 – Another Assessment When he emerged from the room, Tom was relieved to discover that the other children had found choosing their name to be as emotional as it had been for him. Briana, as Bir had chosen to call herself, waved frantically to get Tom¡¯s attention where she hid behind the table. Kang, stoic as always, was standing guard over her. Tom held his position for a moment longer as he assessed the room. Treating the situation like a battlefield to manage his emotions, he clinically read the new names of his classmates and noted how they looked. Ma had chosen the name Eloise, and she was hysterically happy because her not-parents were with her. Tom hadn¡¯t seen them since the encounter at the very start of his new life, but he understood they had visited a couple of times since. As before, they had no fate, so Tom couldn¡¯t assess the size of their pool, but they had a reputation. Despite having a child, both of them set a rigorous adventuring schedule. It was two to three months in the wilds, then a week in town. Those two were definitely not unnerved. Tom¡¯s mood dropped as he finished his assessment. He had screwed up. Nobody was sad ¨C instead, most children were happy, with a couple of outliers appearing unfussed, like Kang. That sign off-line on the obituary had really thrown him. Even though he had kind of known that the losses were going to be high, seeing it written had forced him to confront the truth. His group had been effectively one of three groups of ten, but out of those original thirty, only six had made it. Those odds were pretty horrific, with less than twenty percent of those who started surviving to the end. It was even worse if Tom counted those like Sven, who had died before the trial had appeared, blocked the exit and effectively forced them to enter it. A girl now named Adele came toward him and, recognising in his emotional state that he was out of his depth, he retreated into the pseudo-system room. It was prudent to let the perfect acting of the title shield him from discovery. After a few minutes, with him tracking the screens only partially, he managed to get his emotions under control. Almost half an hour of real time had passed, but the sacrifice was necessary. Ready to act his role once more, he took control of his body back. Morning classes were cancelled, as they were all expected to use the time to learn the names of everyone in their cohort. Tom was hesitant to do so, and he was aware enough to know why. Bir, or, more precisely Briana, as he was supposed to think of her, had wormed herself under his defences. He was viewing her more and more like his sister Emily, which was an entanglement he recognised he wasn¡¯t going to shake. He just didn¡¯t want any more people to gain that status. Keeping a healthy distance was important. Reluctantly, not to mention compelled by the need to fit in, he played the games the adults were forcing them to play. Every kid had to introduce themselves to everyone else and explain why they had chosen the name they had. It was interesting to hear about the reasons for the different choices. About half of those with not-parents had taken the name they had been called as a kid before getting to the orphanage. One of those who had not gone with his childhood nickname had instead chosen the name Tom. He managed not to flinch as he met the other boy¡¯s eyes. All he could think of was the power that was hunting him, the force of nature who presumably knew his name. He fervently hoped that the blue-eyed skinny kid with curly hair would not become their prey. ¡°Why did you choose Tom?¡± he asked. The boy looked at him curiously. ¡°Why? Because he was the best of the heroes of humanity.¡± His voice had risen in excitement. ¡°Yes!¡± Tom exclaimed forcing himself to cheer about the idea. ¡°Go Heroes of Humanity!¡± Then he offered the other Tom a fist-bump to celebrate. He reciprocated, while the boy¡¯s parents watched over him indulgently. ¡°I wonder how Tom fought,¡± the boy mused. The mum looked at the dad in a warning manner. ¡°Lightning and earth, sweet pie.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Tom felt sick at how famous he apparently was, but he noticed there was no mention of his tanking responsibilities that he had taken on to maximise his contribution to the group. He fully understood why the mum would take that line. If this was Em, his sister, then Tom would have encouraged her to take ranged magic as well. That thought sent his mood crashing down further. They were losing in the competition, and the image of his innocent sister coming into this world in the conditions caused by failure made him want to scream. ¡°Are you okay, deary?¡± the other Tom¡¯s mum asked, looking suddenly concerned. He made a show of clutching his stomach and ran off to the toilet. There, he just sat with his head in his hands, trying not to think, trying not to remember their place on the competition ladder, trying to block out that echo of memory. He prayed to DEUS that, if worst happened, Emily would be okay. He would do all he could to change things for the better, but no matter what, he wanted her to flourish and be okay. He was still disturbed at lunch. Kang picked up on it and made sure that Tom was at the edge of the table, with only Kang himself sitting next to him. After that, he ate in silence, no one attempting to speak to him. When he got into the isolation room, he glanced around it and pondered about everything that had happened to him and the Lair Boss. Even if he had gotten Touch Heal to its final form, it wouldn¡¯t have helped in that fight. Spark, on the other hand, might have. It was a decision that had been building up in his subconscious for a while, so he went straight to the relevant folders and pulled out the lightning one. The spell form for Static Shock, one of the precursors of Spark, was hauntingly familiar. Spark and Touch Heal had been the two spells he had invested years of practice into within the tutorial. He didn¡¯t assume that would help much with the initial acquisition. The lesson the healing path had imparted had taught him a simple truth. All those years where he had considered himself to be making progress in mastering something, he had been deluding himself. He had only ever been changing the spell in the outer layers, not manipulating the inner core of it. The add-ons and flourishes he had successfully implemented had shaped various outcomes, but had left the simplicity at the core untouched. Recreating that was what he needed to do now, and the only relevant experience was the effort he had put into acquiring his healing spells. While he had never mastered the inner core of the spell relying on the system to do that, he was not concerned. One look at the wire frames told him that Spark would be easier to master than Touch Heal. However, he also had another, better idea, and he knew electricity intimately. With an efficiency well beyond what he had managed in his first attempt, he built a ¡®ladder¡¯ to reach the locked cupboards and pulled out the spark machine. Then he started it up, letting the sparks it generated strike his lower leg as he attempted to apply the lessons he had learnt in getting his precognition spell. A touch of his other hand against the healing crystal healed the internal burns the lightning shocks caused. Tom kept going, and, while he focused on manually creating the Static Shock spell form, he also tried to sense the incoming sparks of electricity to absorb them. The first step was to feel the energy and the next one to generate it, but, thanks to April, he knew how small a gap there was between those two activities. It would probably take him over a year, but he would put the hours required to learn a lightning skill in. The cut on his leg was dripping, and he focused on it clotting faster. The basis of his build development before getting full access to the system was going to be Healing, Lightning, Earth, Spear and Precognition. It was his plan to have both Skills and Spells in each of those disciplines in order to support his push toward an integrated domain. That choice would give him offensive options, with the final addition being Teleportation to get him in and out of combat. Danger Sense plus Teleportation was, to him, the perfect combination to avoid damage. The only reason he wasn¡¯t doing anything to create Teleportation directly was because Dimitri had as good as told him that it was not something that could be developed organically. So, Tom would ignore it for now, but once he turned fifteen, he would use challenge trials to gain expertise. There were two that were close to New London, the town he was in. Those two together, providing he was successful, would elevate teleportation into being a core part of his skill set. Then, if that wasn¡¯t enough, he would take a dedicated class to fill the gap and let him achieve his vision of himself as a warrior. His calf bled, lightning crackled and burned into his leg, and he practiced his new magic whenever his mana built up high enough. Of course, he made no quantifiable progress, but it was a start. Chapter 60.2– Another Assessment The next day, after the reading lessons, the children were led straight to one of the larger testing rooms. There were seven of them, and the teenager who ran the hand-to-hand combat class stood at the front. He started, business-like, slapping arms and checking their stances and shuffling everyone around. When his hand touched Tom¡¯s elbow, there was a spark, and Tom instinctively made the connection. He guessed finding another reincarnator in this role wasn¡¯t that surprising; nor was he surprised when he and Kang were placed last in the line. Then the session started. The first boy in line was blubbering before he was even called forward. ¡°I don¡¯t need to be tested, I don¡¯t. Please, let me go. Please. You can mark me as failed. Please, we don¡¯t need to fight.¡± ¡°No exceptions,¡± the instructor said sadly. ¡°Show me something interesting.¡± Tom¡¯s fury didn¡¯t even stir in response. He had long since come to terms with the fact that it didn¡¯t matter how barbaric these sessions were. Sacrifices required to survive in Existentia were necessary. The child was a sobbing mess before the instructor started the bout, the anticipation overwhelming them. Luckily, once the instructor acted, it was quick. Then it was Eloise¡¯s turn. She had one of her permanent colds with snot running down from her nose, but she took the time to shoot them a confident look. Then, ignoring her opponent, she ran to the wall and then climbed it as though there were steps on the wood until she touched the roof. It was impressive. Her descent was clumsier, and she landed heavily. She picked herself up and stood proudly, her chest heaving in response to the exertion. ¡°Is that a new use of your ring?¡± Eloise looked at her finger in confusion. ¡°No, it¡¯s a skill. How do you know about the ring?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a secret. You¡¯ve used it all the time, and we all keep track of who has useful artefacts. So, if that wasn¡¯t the ring, then what was it? Was it Air Step?¡± ¡°No¡­ No¡­ It¡¯s nothing so fun. It¡¯s called Minor Force Platform.¡± The instructor looked interested. ¡°Are they only for your feet?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Anywhere. I can create them anywhere. Well, anywhere close to me.¡± ¡°How far out can it stretch?¡± Some, but not all, of Eloise¡¯s confidence vanished under the scrutiny. ¡°Only a few centimetres from my skin. But I¡¯ve only practiced with my feet. I can¡¯t show you elsewhere.¡± ¡°No need to get worried about that. I know similar skills and It¡¯ll get better as you level. Did you develop it yourself?¡± She fiddled with the ring on her finger. ¡°Well, this helped, and my not-parents gave hints.¡± ¡°Is that all you used? You weren¡¯t shown anything that made you feel funny?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Just this. I know magic artefacts can help. But mum, I mean not-parents, said no. I¡¯m only allowed to use them when I¡¯m older.¡± ¡°They are wise. I¡¯m very impressed both by you and them. I¡¯ll update your folder. You¡¯re free to go.¡± He quickly processed the next two kids. The first, Matthew, was a student in the hand-to-hand classes the instructor ran. After seven failed attempts, Matthew managed to impart extra power to a punch. He was excused without taking injuries. Stephanie called up next, and fought valiantly, but it was clear she had no tricks to offer, as she was left in tears. Their assessor then turned to Briana. ¡°Our resident water prodigy. Do you have anything new that is impressive?¡± Briana promptly got a glass of water. ¡°I know about the razor water. That won¡¯t impress me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that.¡± She tipped the cup upside down and nothing came out. Then she put it on the side and a blob of water crawled from it, keeping its consistency for over ten seconds before reverting to its natural state and sent water flooding everywhere. ¡°Is that all?¡± ¡°Yes, but this is good.¡± The boy shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s an impressive stepping stone to other spells, but it doesn¡¯t impress me.¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Briana looked at him, her lips trembling. His age and harsh tone had obviously tipped her over the edge. She was too shy to speak and argue, but she slowly raised both her fists and spread her legs, taking up a fighter¡¯s posture. The instructor took the offer; he bowed, then started throwing punches. Briana was highly coordinated for her age. She had excellent agility, and all the hours training her dodge meant she was competent at avoiding the telegraphed counterattacks that the instructor regularly launched. However, it was also clear there were no special abilities aiding her progress. Finally, he stepped back. ¡°That was a good effort, but not good enough.¡± He blurred forward and Briana went down in tears. She used the healing crystal and left. The instructor turned to the two of them the moment the door dinged. ¡°Let¡¯s abandon pretence. We all know we¡¯re all reincarnators¡± The he glanced significantly at Tom¡¯s badge. ¡°You¡¯re really him, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°He is.¡± Kang said quietly and then tugged on Tom¡¯s arm. ¡°Tom, listen, I saw what they wrote about you. And how they signed off. I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡± He didn¡¯t respond. Kang had clearly noticed the tears and worked out why. He appreciated the sympathy, but wasn¡¯t in the mood for it. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± the instructor asked. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Kang answered. ¡°It was some wording in the obituary that I felt might have hurt Tom.¡± ¡°Oh, that. I never read it, but wished I had. I didn¡¯t know about the name being significant when I re-chose my own. Then someone in the year after me took Tom. They couldn¡¯t shut up about how special you were, so I know everything now. Your team, you, what you all did for the racial trait. Even if we fail, it gives me hope for the future.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t fail. If we stuff up, billions will die.¡± Tom said harshly. The boy, despite his apparent age advantage, looked cowed. ¡°Well, yes. But because of the trait, every level isn¡¯t so bad anymore.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Tom interrupted. ¡°I know the fact you¡¯re reincarnated means DEUS thought you were worth bringing back. I don¡¯t mean to be harsh. I¡¯m just grumpy.¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t need to apologise. I remember when I got my name, my obituary was from my girl. I cried that night too.¡± ¡°Can we talk about something else?¡± Tom said, tired. ¡°Such as about what happens now?¡± The instructor shrugged. ¡°You tell me. From your file, you¡¯ve got two beat ups recorded. It won¡¯t be out of character to show something now. Most kids have impressed the instructor at least once by their third test. How do we play this? And that¡¯s not just him,¡± the boy clarified hurriedly. ¡°It applies to you too, Kang. I¡¯ll jot down whatever you demonstrate.¡± ¡°Put down Static Shock.¡± Tom suggested. The instructor hesitated. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty weak ability to qualify. But, I guess, since you failed twice leading into this, I should be relaxing my impressed criteria. If that¡¯s the case and you have more power or control than usual, then yeah. I guess I could swing putting that down.¡± Tom grimaced sheepishly. ¡°I don¡¯t actually have the spell yet. But maybe note power and better-than-adequate control. I only started it yesterday, but I¡¯ll get both.¡± ¡°Actually, on second thoughts I¡¯m not putting down power. That can only come from extra mana, and that just screams reincarnator.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Tom waved a dismissive hand. ¡°That¡¯s not important. Anyway, there¡¯s no risk. Judging by everything I¡¯ve seen, I¡¯ll have it mastered within two weeks. It¡¯s safe to record.¡± ¡°If you haven¡¯t, in fact, mastered it, then it might be better not to create a paper trail.¡± ¡°For goodness¡¯ sake, stop stressing. Just note it down as inconsistent to cover yourself.¡± Tom clicked his fingers, and the spell form was barely created but it had sufficient accuracy to create a slight crack of a spark. ¡°See, I might even master it by the end of the week.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure that''s enough,¡± the instructor said doubtfully. ¡°You were a hero. That can''t be the only ability you''ve got! It might be better to pass this one with something more tangible.¡± Tom glared at him in annoyance, but he guessed that the reincarnator title made the conversation confidential. ¡°If I had something better, I would have volunteered it, wouldn¡¯t I? I want nothing I can currently do on my permanent record. But, to give you some confidence that I¡¯ll master Static Spark in no time, I¡¯ll tell you I¡¯m most of the way through to Touch Heal, and I have multiple crafting skills. Finally, I possess an Advanced Danger Sense skill. I¡¯m also less than two weeks away from regaining Spear Mastery. But you know who I am. Touch Heal and Spear Mastery are direct links to my previous life. I don¡¯t want those abilities recorded officially, because what kid bothers getting healing spells? Lightning and hammer are going to be what I show the world, so if you¡¯re willing, please put down Static Shock. Otherwise, let¡¯s fight and you can fail me again and leave me as a bloody mess.¡± The boy hesitated. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll lie. Kang.¡± ¡°Quick Step.¡± ¡°Show me.¡± The instructor ordered and, when Kang was positioned, he threw a telegraphed punch that was far faster than anything he had used against Briana. Kang half-blurred as he shifted to the side. The step only took him ten centimetres or so, and it was a long way from instant, but Kang had applied it perfectly, more than illustrating the honed combat veteran in the younger body. The older boy nodded impressed. ¡°That¡¯s a great skill once you get about ten levels in it. Now, we¡¯ve got five minutes before I have to kick the first of you out. Is there anything you want to know?¡± ¡°Just tell us what you know about resources we can access.¡± Kang suggested. The instructor launched into an explanation of the coming tournaments and the bonuses. As this was his final year, he was planning on getting a third and snagging a hundred thousand community points rather than one of the more substantial prizes. Then he would use that to hire professional guides to streamline his first six months in the wider world, including an escort to some of the nearby trials. It was a good plan, and similar to what Tom himself was aiming for. That, and taking the required steps to get all the body titles like Vitality Sprout. One plus to all the physical attributes per level was what he was aiming for. He even had a plan. He would get magic first, then vitality, then strength, and finally finish with agility. The plan wasn''t complete, as he would still need to find biomes to help him get the titles. The important thing would be to have the resources to get escorted to each of the spots he identified as having the best conditions for what he wanted. Chapter 61.1 – Weird Luck Tom watched and prepared for the monsters that April had decided to throw at him this time. There were three of them, and they could be best described as unihorn raptors. They were slightly built and only came up to his chest, and, despite being only five years old he probably out-massed each of them individually. The issue was the massive horn that jutted out of their foreheads. Each were a metre wide, but the problem was the thick but sinuous neck that allowed them to use the horn with a dexterity that was equivalent to that of humans fighting with swords and spears. They were crazily skilled, and Tom couldn¡¯t just focus on their horns. Their legs were also deadly, if he let them get too close. He launched another flurry of thrusts, and the necks twisted, and the horns intercepted his strikes, and, to his frustration, they worked together to protect each other. Lots of options presented themselves, opportunities to take injuries to land his own strikes, but he resisted the destructive impulses and fought a strictly defensive battle. His spear spun in mesmerizing patterns, mimicking the moves shown to him by the figurine. He darted forward, acting defensively by being threatening. His footwork let him move smoothly over the ground, and the moment they pulled back from their combined attacks, he retreated as well, buying himself time to catch his breath and prepare mentally for the next engagement. Magic pumped through him to keep his muscles in perfect shape and to increase the volume of red blood cells to improve his endurance. It was already clear that this was going to be a drawn-out fight. He knew his blood pressure was rising to unsustainable levels, but he was in a trial, and now, while under the GOD¡¯s shield, was the best time to stress his limits. His head felt like it was in a vice, and the world swayed. Too much pressure, he thought in annoyance. Extra stamina was great, but he had pushed the concept way too far. His healing magic eased the symptoms, but he still felt slightly woozy. The three horns were continually testing him, and, when he factored in their necks, he didn¡¯t even have a ranged advantage over them. There was a tree behind him, and he ducked around it, briefly using it as a shield. He wished he had Kang¡¯s quick step, because, if he did, he could have isolated one creature easily and blown through it before the other two could have responded. Instead, he was forced to continue his strategy of fighting carefully. They had split because of the tree, and he went at the pair of monsters. His aggression caught them by surprise, and, instinctively they backed off, which allowed him to backtrack and keep the protection of the tree for a few seconds longer. In short order, the trio coordinated against him and they drove him away from the defensive bulwark. Unfortunately, he lacked the attributes to hold his position, and freedom of movement was the only thing keeping him alive. He couldn¡¯t relax for even a moment. The entire time, his eyes were watching the environment. This was not a sterile combat ring; it was an infested ecosystem. Other monsters could appear at any time. In fact, the noise of the fighting was likely to attract them. His continuously moving eyes spotted the swooping hawk. With his brain firing on all cylinders, he pretended to ignore it. In the even tempo of the fight, a desperate block of his spear by a horn sent his spear flashing upwards, and Tom used all of his skill to control the wild movement. The hawk, only metres away, didn¡¯t have time to adjust. The blade of his weapon ripped its throat out, much to its surprise. It would have been watching, and would have noticed any attempt to counter it. The consequences of the supposably chaotic block were not something it had been able to predict. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Potentially, Tom realised he might have taken out the backbone at the same time because it lost control of its flight and fell toward the leftmost raptor, which instinctively impaled it. The situation was perfect. For a moment, its vision was blocked, and its body was between Tom and the others. He made a huge sidestep and then lunged at it. His weapon punched through its ribs and, as it did, Tom was already reversing its momentum. The thrust penetrated deep enough to go through its heart, but not so far that his weapon would get trapped when it moved. Then, having completed a perfect thrust, he yanked it out of the dying monster. There was a ding. The wounded unihorn raptor collapsed. Then it was just him versus the remaining two. Easy, he thought. Even with the way the world was swaying because of how he had overdone the blood management, two versus one would be a simple fight. Even so, he remembered that the effects of blood pressure could get worse, so he pushed himself more than usual. A horn stabbed him, and he deliberately accepted the injury to finish the fight sooner. It left a gash in his arm, but not one large enough to affect his spear work, and the opportunity the wound granted let him kill the second monster, and then it was one horn against his spear. There was nothing the weaker monster could do against him in a one versus one. In a flurry of blows, it was overwhelmed and killed. ¡°I¡¯m done.¡± He yelled, and a moment later he was sitting in the caf¨¦. The growing discomfort that had plagued him was gone. ¡°Congratulations on your advancement. I only need another one hundred and seventy sales, and I can get you the training course for Power Strike.¡± Tom grinned in relief. She hadn¡¯t said it outright, but with that statement she had confirmed what he had suspected. ¡°So, it was Spear Mastery.¡± She nodded ¡°Were there any extras?¡± ¡°Unfortunately not, it was just the standard skill. But given that you got it from a training course, you shouldn¡¯t have expected anything extra.¡± ¡°True. And, seriously, are you sure I have to make to make a hundred and seventy more of these?¡± He knew he could only do about six bracelets an hour. That meant he had to craft for over thirty hours to get access to the next skill. ¡°That seems a bit excessive.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not like you have to do it full time. You¡¯re developing proficiency in a second weapon, aren¡¯t you? A hammer, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Her smile was predatory. ¡°Yes!¡± he answered with false confidence, because how else could he have responded? Lying was clearly a bad idea, and wouldn¡¯t help anyway. She waved her hand; half the caf¨¦ vanished and was replaced with the vision of a shadowy figure going through a kata and using a heavy hammer. ¡°No time like the present.¡± He groaned. An hour later, he was back to fighting lizard dogs, but this time with a hammer that he really didn¡¯t know how to use. It was much harder, despite knowing how they fought. When the wounds piled up to the point, he couldn¡¯t continue. He was returned to the caf¨¦, and he immediately picked up the latest plain wooden bracelet to transform. April as had become her habitat started lecturing immediately. ¡°So we¡¯ve covered the core structure of the ritual.¡± Her hand was on the massive metal wire frame she had created. ¡°Now we need to discuss the individual nodes. This bit,¡± her finger touched a section that was particularly complicated. ¡°Represents spatial direction. The Danger Sense feeling that is created has to warn the user of where the threat is coming from.¡± He paused what he was doing and met her gaze evenly. ¡°April, is this really necessary?¡± ¡°Is what necessary?¡± she asked innocently. ¡°You lecturing me. Do I really need to know how this works? I¡¯m only doing it to earn credits, to buy skills. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m ever going to make it my profession. I¡¯m a warrior, not a crafter.¡± ¡°Is it distracting you.¡± Tom considered her question. She had waited until the construction of the bracelets had become routine for him. Since she had introduced the routine, neither his accuracy nor speed had suffered. ¡°Not really.¡± He admitted. ¡°Then there shouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡± ¡°But why am I doing it?¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Learning about the world doesn¡¯t need a why. We have the time, so we might as well use it. As I was saying, this is effectively the sensory apparatus for the direction of the threat.¡± Chapter 61.2 – Weird Luck Tom switched his focus back to his current bracelet and only half listened as she went into increasing amounts of detail. Her current lecture concerned around half a percent of the entire ritual. It was clear she was probably going to be doing this for months. He guessed at worse her voice was nice to listen to though how she could be so animated about such a dry subject was a mystery. His time in the trial ended with him having chipped away at his target number of bracelets and having progressed to more complicated monsters surprisingly quickly. He might not have known how to swing the hammer, but his footwork improvement carried him through the fights. Another week and a half passed, and the class was just finishing the compulsory reading and writing session when Dimitri broke the monotony of the routine by barging into the class with a youngish-looking Asian couple accompanying him. ¡°Right,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°Today, we¡¯ve got something different for you. This is Kaamil and his wife Yukia. They¡¯ve just come back from a trial that gave them crystals that can raise someone¡¯s magic affinity.¡± ¡°Only by a little, one or two points at the most.¡± Yukia interrupted. ¡°Only by a little,¡± Dimitri agreed. ¡°And probably not at all, if your affinity is already too high.¡± Dimitri ignored the additional clarification. ¡°Even with their restrictions, these stones would normally be too valuable for children, but a lot of the stones are cracked. Our assessors told us they may not work at all, and, like with many things in this state, the older the recipient is, the more likely they are to fail. So, as you are the youngest group with known affinities, we¡¯ve decided to give you all a chance to win them as a reward.¡± Xinyue, a girl that Tom was sure was also reincarnated, but one he hadn¡¯t manage to confirm personally, waved her arm in the air. With a slight incline of his head, Dimitri gave her permission to speak. ¡°Is that normal?¡± ¡°Are you asking if child-specific treasures are common? Then yes. They¡¯re far more frequent than you would expect. There are major discoveries like this every other year, and minor treasures turn up regularly. They are generally directed to be the prize pool for the annual tournament. These particular affinity stones are more fragile than usual, so we¡¯re using them straight away.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ll be the judge of who gets them,¡± Yukia said happily. ¡°Talent is vital, but I¡¯ll mainly be looking at the attitude.¡± Dimitri nodded. ¡°Exactly that. Attitude, striving to get better, is the fundamental cornerstone of success. In Existentia, anyone can be anything if they strive hard. Now, on to particulars. Kaamil and Yukia will supervise you until lunch, and they¡¯ll pick the most exceptional one to receive the treasures. A word of warning: your affinities have to be between seventy and eighty to qualify, and we¡¯ll be checking before letting you use the stone.¡± Tom and Kang looked at each other. A chance to raise his affinities was not something either of them could afford to pass up, and, if success was based on attitude, then they were in the running. Three minutes later, after Yukia explained the rules and what they were doing, they were escorted to the dodge room. Tom couldn¡¯t be happier about the format and the opportunity. Conscious of how valuable raising his healing affinity by even one point was, he decided to push himself harder than he usually would in these situations. This was a reward worth trying to seize. He blew through his previous best results and completed not one, but two more dodge challenges further than his previous best. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The question was how much to show. Kang was two fighting rings ahead of him. Briana, who also wanted the prize, had ¡®cheated¡¯ by using her fate to boost performance, and was equal to first at four rings ahead of him. Five of his peers were beating him, and Tom decided that this was as far as he was willing to go. All that was left was to show a go-getter attitude; the fact that he would strive to do better even if his talent didn¡¯t let him. He suppressed Danger Sense, and used his ring to send invisible electricity through his limbs to destroy his coordination. Then he leapt onto the packed sand floor, ready to fight. A traitorous release of electricity caused his leg to spasm at the wrong moment, and he missed the third dodge and was pummelled into submission. Without retreating to the healing crystal, like most of the kids were doing, he lined up to go again. He repeated his determined attempts after that loss. If this was about attitude, he would show he couldn¡¯t be beaten down. A small part of him wondered if this was a subtle way to boost the reincarnators up. If it was, Tom didn¡¯t care; he wouldn¡¯t do anything to expose himself. He was only the fifth in the class, and he would keep himself in a similar position through the remaining events. It was his choice, because, if he went all out, Tom knew he could jump up multiple levels. He hadn¡¯t tested it, but he suspected that, with Danger Sense helping him and his ring not hindering him, extra dodge pits would be trivial to complete. Not just up to where Briana was four steps ahead of him, either; he would instead be able to push himself five or six spots beyond her, and, if he used fate, then seven or eight. However, he entered injured and suffered the blows once more, until the bout finished with him getting punched out of the ring. After a not-so-fun hour, they moved to the obstacle course. Once more, the amount of practice the three of them had done in this very room put them well ahead of the rest of the class. Tom pushed hard with his standard handicaps. Occasionally, he fell, or was knocked flying, and once he jumped so far that only the magic and community fate stopped him from hurting himself badly. He didn¡¯t allow any of that to faze him; he got up and did it again. Then, in the second-last run, he dropped the restrictions, and unsurprisingly, had everything go right for him as he ran the course. It propelled him ahead of Briana and Kang to equal first in the class. Tom could tell that Kang was eager to do the same, but he restrained himself for the same reasons that Tom had done in the dodge pits. Briana, of course, didn¡¯t share the same sentiments. She, as always, was determined not to lose. A third of her fate vanished, and, while she failed to match Tom¡¯s time, she completed the course successfully, putting her at the same level as him. They moved on to their final contest. It was a series of one-on-one fights, and Tom decided that, for this, he would drop to the middle of the field. The fights were set up, and it felt weird to be instructed to hit another kid with the wooden practice hammer, even if he knew no one was going to get hurt. Four adults Tom didn¡¯t recognise came in to supervise the bouts. They were clearly healers with skills more than capable of stopping any lethal blows. With no need to hold back, Tom handicapped himself with Electricity, Gravity and Dampen Senses, then threw himself into the battle. He allowed himself to use Danger Sense sporadically, but against such weak opponents, it added little to his survivability. The simple fact was that the ability was unneeded, because he could read the attacks that came his way perfectly anyway. He was fighting five-year-olds. It didn¡¯t take magical abilities to predict what they were planning on doing. That was until he ramped up Dampen Senses - then Danger Sense showed its true worth. While it was active, he could predict the opponent¡¯s attacks easily, and the difference it made was extraordinary. He was already heavily handicapped, but he was fighting children. Despite the restriction he had placed on himself, it was clear that, if he permitted Danger Sense to guide him fully, the battles would become too easy. He gave himself another handicap. With twenty minutes to go, the random bouts were stopped, and they were organised into a knockout tournament. He figured he was placed right where he had wanted to be, firmly in the average category. Tom won the first, and, given that it was against someone at his level, he figured they had been seeded based on their performance in practice. Everyone had been given a competitive first round, with exceptional performers in the dodge and obstacle courses being pitted against opponents slightly weaker than them. After that, his assigned opponent was Briana, which was good because he had been planning on losing this fight no matter who he ended up against. She was clearly still smarting from being almost beaten at the obstacle course, so she made a point of grabbing a glass of water. He knew exactly what was coming. Chapter 61.3 – Weird Luck They bowed as they were taught, and then she stalked forward. Danger Sense pinged, and he knew if he dodged to the side, he would avoid the threatened razor water, but this wasn¡¯t about winning. Instead of following his skill¡¯s advice, he launched himself at her like a stupid child would. It was dumb. The deadly spread of water droplets fell toward him and his faith in the watching referee was rewarded. A shield appeared to protect his head, then splashes of the water dug into his shoulders and arms. It felt like they cut most of the way to the bone. Before he could hit her with his hammer, the referee was between them. ¡°Your loss, Tom.¡± White healing light flowed over him, and, when he glanced down, he saw that he was covered in blood, but the skin was undamaged once more. ¡°Without my shield, that would have been a killing blow.¡± Briana was staring at the red that covered him in horror. ¡°I¡¯m not hurt,¡± he told her instantly, but it was too late. An anguished look crossed her face. Her eyes watered, and then she burst into tears and fled. Tom started to follow, but Kang shook his head and went to comfort her. In the next round, Briana was unwilling to use the water attack. As a result, she was easily defeated by Matthew, whose first punch had the same skill he had struggled to produce in the assessment wrapped around. He had clearly fully mastered it since. Ten minutes later, everything was decided. Tom was happy with his performance. It was time to see if he, Briana, and Kang had done enough to get rewards. The process was simple. The chosen kids were quizzed on their affinities within range. Then these were checked, and then the children were handed one of the crystals. When they touched them to their foreheads, the crystal would shatter into fragments, and, just like that, the child would become slightly better at the specific type of magic. Briana and Kang were both in the first round, but Tom wasn¡¯t. While he waited, he hovered near the adults, listening in on their unguarded conversations. ¡°The alliance? Do you think it¡¯s real?¡± Yukia asked Dimitri. ¡°What, that the dragons and insects have combined forces?¡± ¡°Yes, and that they¡¯ve declared war on the central empires.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t shock me. Let¡¯s put it that way. They¡¯ve been allied since the start. In the trial the heroes of humanity have completed, those two species worked together. And, more recently, they eliminated an entire species from both sides, attacking from different directions. The GOD¡¯s saw that as a coordinated dual assault. So, yeah, I¡¯ve got no doubt that those rumours are accurate.¡± ¡°The rumours say there are now dragons on every battlefield, with three or four embedded in every one of the twenty-three insect hordes. That¡¯s different from before. They have never been integrated previously.¡± Dimitri sighed. ¡°As I said, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised. From a strategic viewpoint, it makes a lot of sense. The dragons are singular powerhouses; the insects have numbers, but no true strength, as most of them stagnate at rank thirty. Together, the weaknesses they have as separate forces disappear. Without the dragon support, an elite team of natives can cripple an entire swarm, and the dragons struggle when the enemy runs and goes to ground, which is a behaviour the insects counter. It¡¯s a worrisome development.¡± ¡°At least they¡¯re far away enough that we won¡¯t have to go against them directly.¡± ¡°Small mercies, but if they have combined and are crippling native empires, we¡¯re screwed on the ladder. I can¡¯t imagine how many extra points that¡¯s going to yield.¡± The conversation broke off as the testers finished with the first round of kids. ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡± Dimitri asked. Yukia¡¯s eyes fell on him. ¡°Tom,¡± she declared after checking his name badge. ¡°You did great. What affinities do you have?¡± ¡°Wood shaping and healing.¡± A frown crossed her face. ¡°I have nothing for those. But you got told your top five, weren¡¯t you? If we enhance a lower level affinity, that would still be helpful.¡± Internally, he sighed in disappointment. This had definitely been too good to be true. ¡°I can¡¯t. They¡¯re not eligible. The others are all higher than eighty.¡± ¡°Tom,¡± Dimitri said firmly, with a warning tone. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell anyone details like that.¡± Yukia glanced at the big man in surprise. Then ignored him and focused exclusively on Tom. ¡°That¡¯s impressive.¡± ¡°Not really. Only a little over average. Around a quarter of people start with three affinities over eighty. If Tom¡¯s not eligible, we should assess someone else.¡± Dimitri took a step away from Tom toward where most of the children were clustered. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Wait!¡± A thoughtful look crossed her face. ¡°Would you be okay with telling me your next highest affinity?¡± ¡°Yukia, no. If it¡¯s above eighty, the affinity stones probably won¡¯t work. Giving one to him would be a waste.¡± Dimitri huffed in annoyance. ¡°It was a rank-ninety trial. The rewards were significant. It wasn¡¯t just affinity stones that were almost falling apart.¡± She hissed back in response. ¡°I have others, beyond the child-locked ones.¡± ¡°And those are strategic resources.¡± Dimitri snapped. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t go to children.¡± Something told Tom that Dimitri had retreated to his pseudo-system room for this part of the conversation. ¡°They¡¯re mine to do what I want with.¡± ¡°Ours,¡± her husband reminded her quietly. ¡°And if I want to give one to this cute boy¡­¡± She squeezed his cheeks, an action that Tom hated, but, given the circumstances he put up with it without complaint. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say no. He was very determined. If a little uncoordinated.¡± ¡°But I would.¡± Dimitri said firmly. ¡°We¡¯re not giving significant treasures to children.¡± ¡°I think Yukia has a point,¡± Kaamil said, scratching his head uncertainly. ¡°We¡¯ve got room to be more generous. We¡¯ve got this batch and a handful of intermediate ones. As I understand, the powerhouses can¡¯t use them anyway.¡± ¡°Intermediate ones, no, you¡¯re right, the powerhouses can¡¯t use them. But rising stars can, and it¡¯s the height of ridiculousness to give them to unproven children over the resources we know are going to be difference-makers. He¡¯s five. I forbid you to give them away.¡± ¡°Dimitri, you don¡¯t have that power. Under reincarnation rules, you don¡¯t have that level of autonomy.¡± Yukia told him firmly. ¡°Kaamil and I can do what we want here. So, Tom, what¡¯s your next lowest affinity?¡± ¡°Lightning, and it¡¯s eighty-four.¡± He said quickly. Her smile brightened. She waved her hand, and a stone appeared in her palm. It was three to four times larger than any of the others. ¡°That¡¯s too powerful.¡± Dimitri objected with a strangled voice. ¡°That can raise an affinity by, what, two or three? If someone¡¯s on eighty-nine, it might even push them to ninety. That¡¯s way too valuable for a child of this age. I forbid it. Gifting it to him is basically a crime against humanity.¡± Dimitri was clearly letting the title act for him, because he was sure if they were in a safe room, there would have been no debate. Instead of objecting, he would have forced Tom to use it. ¡°You don¡¯t have that power, and don¡¯t guilt-trip me. I¡¯m happy with my decision.¡± She focused on Tom and pushed the crystal into his hands. ¡°Use it now.¡± Dimitri did not attempt to physically stop Tom, and, having seen how fast the man could move, he recognised that was tacit support of Tom proceeding. He took the offered stone, and before any further objections could be raised, placed it on his forehead, spending his entire fate pool. While doing that, he was conjuring up in his mind the simple image of getting the most out of the crystal. Nothing seemed to happen, and then the previously rock-hard crystal suddenly felt like it was made of loosely-packed sand. It crumbled under the slight pressure of his fingers. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you gave him that.¡± Dimitri whispered, sounding shocked. ¡°What happens if he ends up as a crafter?¡± ¡°We all saw how determined he was. Whenever he got knocked over, he got straight back up.¡± Kaamil told them. ¡°He¡¯s a fighter through and through.¡± ¡°He¡¯s five!¡± Dimitri spluttered. ¡°People change as they grow older. I¡¯ve seen it dozens of times.¡± Yukia glared at him in response. ¡°Dimitri, watch what you¡¯re saying. He¡¯s right here and listening.¡± Then she focused back on Tom and beamed and waved a tester to come closer. ¡°You did great. Let¡¯s see how that went?¡± Tom didn¡¯t wait. He clenched his fist, and an anaemic spark jumped from his fingers. The spell still wasn¡¯t mastered, and the display was lacklustre. ¡°Ooh¡­ You¡¯re already learning a lightning spell,¡± she cooed in excitement. A moment later, the tester arrived. ¡°To many rules are being ignored,¡± Dimitri grumbled. ¡°We¡¯re only testing the lightning affinity. Nothing else.¡± The man nodded; the complicated screen in his hand vanished, and was replaced with what looked like a polished brass doorknob. He held that out to Tom. ¡°Use that spell I just saw on this.¡± Tom flushed red. ¡°Um¡­ I don¡¯t have much mana left. I¡¯ve just used most of it.¡± ¡°Do you have any at all?¡± He nodded. ¡°That¡¯ll be fine, then. Go on. Use the spell. Even a single point of mana is enough for the test.¡± Tom did so. The man¡¯s brows furrowed as he assessed the results. ¡°This can¡¯t be right. The affinity is too high. He shouldn¡¯t have been allowed to use one of the child stones. It¡¯s been wasted. Did you lie, boy?¡± ¡°No, he didn¡¯t, and we know.¡± Yukia objected immediately. ¡°He wasn¡¯t given a child stone. What value is the affinity now?¡± ¡°Um¡­ eighty-seven.¡± ¡°Three whole points! We hit the jackpot.¡± She squealed in delight. Tom was not sure of the best way to act in this precise situation, so he retreated into his pseudo-system room. The intermediate affinity crystal had raised his affinity from eighty-four to eighty-seven. The mathematics were not straightforward, but he was confident that the strength of his lightning magic had increased by over forty percent. It was extraordinary. And she had gifted it to him without knowing who he was; over the objections of Dimitri, the boss of the place, too. Yes, he had pushed himself in the events they had run him through, but not to a ridiculous level. To put it simply, this was luck. From what he had overheard, the best anyone else had gotten was only two points, and that promoted an affinity up to sixty-four. That was good, but not amazing, and nothing at all like eighty-seven. Safely surrounded by metal walls, and also guaranteed complete privacy, he grinned. That was two unexpected windfalls he had gotten. He had been sceptical about the ring, but the months since had proven how valuable it had been. However, this¡­ even if he were an adult and earning a million plus experience a year, this latest gift would have still been a massive bonus. Raising affinities was hard, and it cost a fortune to do that through the experience shop. It would help him in both the short- and the long term. Gaining access to the Divine Champions¡¯ Trial just became a lot easier. He knew the benefit would only be a five to ten percent increase in combat efficiency, or possibly even less, because lightning was not his only offensive ability. But, given the spots went to the elites of the elites, every slight improvement mattered. One percent could be the difference between him making the cut and failing to do so. Chapter 62 – Power Strike Development In the next trial session, Tom failed to complete the backlog of crafting. If he were being honest, though, he didn¡¯t mind. Making the bracelets was kind of meditative, especially when interspaced with intense battles with the war hammer. One thing Tom was acutely aware of was the fact that the world prevented attribute growth through exertion. Every single time he picked the hammer up, it was as heavy as the first time, and it never got lighter. If he was back on Earth, or in an adult body, the result of his exertions would have been far different. The micro-tears the feats of strength left, when healing, would have reinforced the muscle and made him stronger. That feedback loop was missing here. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the process, even if the ache of muscle fatigue without the reward of growth frustrated him. Then, two hours into his second session, he completed the final bracelet. ¡°Well done.¡± April said warmly. ¡°You can afford Power Strike, but are you sure you want to? Spear Mastery will give it as a threshold bonus soon enough.¡± He knew the answer already. Despite its utility and impact in melee contests, Power Strike was not considered to be a peak tier-zero ability. It was of similar utility as Heal Cut; it was not rated as trash, but nor was it peak tier-zero. ¡°Is there something better that I can get?¡± April sighed and shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s a fundamental essential of spear fighting in Existentia. It is only cheap because it¡¯s a part of the base ability, if admittedly one that is only unlocked after a couple years of meaningful combat experience. In my opinion, it¡¯s worthwhile both in the short and long term, especially given what little else you can afford. The direct ability is stronger than that in Spear Mastery, even if only slightly. But, given your aims, given that you¡¯re shooting for the Divine Champions¡¯ trial, even a fraction of a percent of improvement is worthwhile.¡± ¡°Then yes, you¡¯ve convinced me. I want it.¡± A moment later, a sheaf of paper appeared in front of her. She flipped through it, which was purely for the theatrics. In practice, as Tom knew, she would have instantly absorbed the information. ¡°Buying this is a good idea,¡± she stated finally. ¡°It¡¯s a lot harder to train than what you¡¯ve done before, but, since you¡¯ve used the ability before, you should regain it quickly. Even if the ability itself is not that great an upgrade, it will provide excellent fundamentals for later efforts.¡± ¡°How¡¯s it harder?¡± Tom couldn¡¯t help but ask. This extra layer of complexity he was discovering in spells and skills, things that he had previously taken for granted, absolutely fascinated him. ¡°Well, for what you¡¯ve learned so far, you¡¯ve connected to the concept by sensing incoming energy. You¡¯re trying to duplicate it with the lightning work in the isolation rooms. Once you can sense energy, you then progress to absorbing and manipulating it, and from there it¡¯s only a short step to creating. That¡¯s not how you get this.¡± She waved the papers around. ¡°Power Strike, when you think about it, does three things. It greatly increases the durability of your spear, creates a point of almost infinite sharpness and a focused magical shield-breaking effect.¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± Tom said dryly. The durability component was new, if not at all surprising. ¡°It was kind of the basis of my fighting for over forty years. How do we train it?¡± ¡°You break it down into its components. Each function is gained independently; then, when you combine the three, the official skill should snap together.¡± Tom considered her explanation. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m not sure that I understand completely. Doesn¡¯t Spear Mastery already grant durability?¡± ¡°Yes, it does, and that will help you. Part one of this process is to expand that base functionality to an extraordinary level. The amount of stress a Power Strike puts on the weapon in immense.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s not true. That doesn¡¯t make sense to me. When I use it, the skill punches through armour easily, and there is less stress on the spear than with a normal blow. How is durability relevant?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not considering the physical fundamentals. Ask yourself this: does it always punch through perfectly? No, it doesn¡¯t.¡± An illusion appeared in front of her, a man with a spear stabbing into a monster. ¡°This is how the forces play out with a normal thrust.¡± The partially translucent spear was magnified, and Tom saw a pressure wave go through the weapon. It spread relatively evenly, with a few more intense areas of colour flashing out as the energy ran along what must have been fault lines in the shaft. ¡°This is what happens with a Power Strike encounters partial resistance. Which is when you feel any level of impact. Something I¡¯m sure that happens almost always.¡± Her analysis wasn¡¯t wrong. There was always some level of opposition. Not as much with a normal thrust where the weapon would often bounce away, perhaps, but it was usually used against armoured enemies, and he still felt it even if the blow was successful. In the main illusion, the spear glowed blue and punched through the enemy, but Tom only had eyes for the key point of the demonstration, which was the magnified weapon. In that vision, planes of force went through the weapon. There was significantly less colour, but, rather than being spread out, they went through the spear like a laser beam. ¡°Is that real?¡± April said nothing, but showed an image of where the weapon failed to punch through. It was the same effect, only larger. Instead of force being spread over the entire shaft, it was concentrated through only a small section. ¡°Yes, it is. Power Strike adds sharpness, momentum, and slippiness to the point. When that combination fails, it inevitably concentrates all the force of stopping the thrust onto one point.¡± ¡°So, I¡¯m to work on durability first?¡± April nodded. ¡°How do I go about that?¡± She chuckled. ¡°By breaking hundreds of spears.¡± Tom froze at that comment. ¡°And by hundreds, I mean tens of thousands. You keep training until you can hit dummies without allowing even a fragile spear to shatter.¡± He whistled. Training the ability outside of a trial that specialised in this sort of thing would be prohibitively expensive. ¡°What your bracelets just purchased is designs for escalating levels of fragility to optimise the training. Unfortunately, they were made of wood, which won¡¯t work for you. Your subconscious mind will apply your Living Wood skill to reinforce the weapons physically. Luckily, I¡¯m a genius, so I¡¯ll create them out of ceramics. Once you¡¯ve got durability, the next two skills will be even harder for you to train. But I¡¯ll give you more details when you¡¯re ready. Have fun.¡± He blinked and found himself standing in what he would have described as a traditional training arena. It was a large, open space of hard-packed dirt covered in a thin layer of sand, with numerous static combat dummies around the outside, and an open area the size of a soccer pitch in the middle. All that was missing was the sight of hundreds of people training. Tom was completely alone, and a single metal dummy was directly in front of him. Beside him were crates filled with wonky-looking spears. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. There was no question of what he was supposed to do. He grabbed one of the weapons and frowned at the feel of it. April had not been kidding. It was a hollow weapon made of clay, and it felt like, if he moved it too fast, it would crack and fall apart. ¡°Are you serious? I need to hit something and have this not break?¡± ¡°Get to it. Stab the fearsome enemy,¡± April called out. He glanced her way. She was sitting on a wooden bench, looking perfectly comfortable. Impatiently, she waved for him to start. Tom shifted the weapon into position. Instinctively, he shuffled his feet into the correct spots and then lunged forward, driving the spear right into the chest of the dummy. It shattered. The clay disintegrated under his hands, with the small shards of the explosion along the shaft stinging against the softer parts of his palm. He scowled slightly at the sensation; it was not pleasant. He seized another one. The idea was to hit the dummy without the spear breaking. He thrust again, but this time moderated his strength, to strike it heavily enough to cause a ding, but not so strong that it would suffer the previous level of catastrophic failure. The weapon didn¡¯t break. A wave of pain went through him, radiating from his hands. He squeezed the ceramic spear so hard in response that it shattered, doing far more damage than the one before. Instinctively, he healed the cuts. ¡°Not like that,¡± April said, sounding regretful. ¡°You have to strike with full strength to avoid the backlash.¡± Tom glared at her. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend to be sad. I know you could have warned me!¡± ¡°We¡¯ve discussed this over and over again. Do you want fast progression, or to be treated as a rich kid and stagnate as a result?¡± ¡°You know what I want.¡± He grumbled. ¡°But you still could have warned me.¡± He knew how he sounded, especially when he was in this body. April, to her credit, did not take the easy opportunity to tease him. He lowered his head and grabbed a new spear. He thrust with all of his speed. It exploded into a shower of clay. The shaft under his hands splintered. It was not pleasant. Tom immediately grabbed another and struck again. Exactly the same thing happened. His hands, particularly his palms, were stinging, but that was nothing compared to the pain that he had suffered when he had held his strength back. Even the memory of that left him no choice but to give his all. ¡°How much time did not warning me really save?¡± he asked. ¡°Hours.¡± She answered simply. ¡°And, before you object, just consider how many skills are you going to acquire in the trial and how long each subsection takes. Less than four sessions here, based on your current progress. If we reduce each one by a few hours, that means you end up with ten percent more skills. What¡¯s that over the next nine years? Four, five, six extra skills. That¡¯s why I¡¯m pushing.¡± Tom considered what she was saying. ¡°Logically, I understand. More skills are better than fewer. But a part of me resents the brutality.¡± ¡°Unfortunately, you can¡¯t have both. Even you, with your exceptional willpower, will slacken off.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that the truth.¡± Another spear broke. He had subconsciously reduced the force of the blow, and felt the warning tinge of pain. ¡°Is there a technique I should be using?¡± ¡°For now, lean on Spear Mastery. I know each of those weapons feels more like an art project than an instrument of war, but each of them is technically a functional spear. Treat them as such. Use your Spear Mastery skill to reinforce it.¡± It sounded easy, but the problem was he had no idea what she was talking about. However, he kept thrusting. The spears kept breaking, and he continued to try using that extra bit of him, that extra ethereal muscle that Spear Mastery represented to reinforce the shaft. As he continued to break them, his mind mulled over what she had said in passing ¨C something about him gaining forty skills over the remaining nine years. He had been aware of it subconsciously, but he had never consciously considered what that would actually mean. Specifically, in the context of her only having access to tier-one skills. The issue was, he doubted there were even a dozen unique spear abilities within that tier range, which meant he was going to have to develop skills in other directions. He was well-versed in Spear abilities from his previous life, and he considered the various options available. There were the Power Strike, Rapid Strike, Sinuous Stab, Elemental Infusing, Lunge, Enlarge and the various illusionary effects such as Mesmerizing Spear or Illusionary Thrust. They were all useful, but he wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted all of them. While the abilities didn¡¯t share the same cooldown, they did overlap. If he was fresh, he could do four consecutive Lunges, but if he had already exhausted himself using Power Strike, then that capacity would be halved. Stacking lots of tier-one abilities was not necessarily wise. It was probably better to instead focus on the higher-tier ones. Tom suspected it would take him less than two years in total to get all the spear abilities he wanted. What should I do with the remaining seven years of development? he wondered. There was no question on whether he would use it to get skills. The question was, which ones? Definitely not utility skills, such as Clean Teeth or Haircut. He would be buying them from the experience shop once he got access, as the facilities of the orphanage meant he had no need for those yet. Supplementing his isolation room development of lightning and earth spells made sense, and, if he was also being honest with himself, probably hammer abilities. What else is there? He thought to himself. There were general movement skills like Acrobatics, Evasion, and Quick Step, but they were all only maybes. Gaining them too early might prevent him from getting the stronger earned abilities, such as what he had gotten in his last life. He remembered the message that had shocked him when he had gotten it. Congratulations, you have met the prerequisites to be rewarded the Skill. Skill: Safer Falling (Tier 1) Safer falling is not a physical skill, but utilises fate to help the user when falling or being thrown. Effectiveness scales with level, and the amount of fate available adjusted by class level. Cannot be purchased from the competitor store. This skill is an Earned Skill. Given this designation, you will be restricted from discussing or communicating the steps undertaken to acquire the Earned Skill. Now that you are aware of the mechanism, it is acceptable to attempt similar feats to Earn alternative skills but you will be permanently blocked from any Earned Skill or Spell which you have gained a prior knowledge of the steps required to be awarded it. Given the rules, researching this topic is not recommended. The prerequisites you met to earn Safer Falling are: Tom knew from when he got the choice of being reincarnated that prior knowledge excluded anything he learnt in his previous life. This was a skill that he could absolutely earn again, and he was confident he could recreate the conditions once he had Touch Heal. Using technical skills to stave off certain death was easy. That was only a matter of tucking the head in and rolling. Nothing was permanently crippling in Existentia if high-levelled healers were around. To trigger that criterion, he only needed to take massive risks, and the community fate would effectively guarantee he couldn''t die. Any injuries he suffered could be fixed. In his dodge and obstacle course practice, he was sure he had already showed a technical proficiency in acrobatics of at least twenty, and that last bullet point was the most important. That was why he did not want to develop any body skills. Another spear shattered against a dummy, and he broadened his consideration. Duplicating Safer Falling skill was easy, but what else could he do? Were there earned skills for dodging, parrying, acrobatics, athletics? Of course there were. The real question was, were there versions that also used fate? Because that''s what he wanted to get. The Safer Falling skill had been evolved into a dodge ability that became the lynchpin of his dominance before he died. How much more powerful would he be, if, instead of one earned skill folding into that high-tiered ability, there were three or four instead? The answer was obvious. This was something to pursue. And getting more Earned Abilities should just be a matter of danger, unrecognised expertise, and injury. They were three things that he could get behind, especially since his forty years of combat experience gifted him with a massive amount of unrecognised expertise. But what other lessons could he draw from this? Another spear shattered in his hands. Chapter 63.1 – Town Assault Tom knew that, for an almost six-year-old, he was strange. If he was forced to name his preferred activities, any adult who heard him would have been horrified. Sessions in the trial were always the highlight of his week, followed by the hours he spent in the isolation room. For a normal child, that would have been considered shocking and would have triggered compulsory counselling; however, when it came to reincarnators, Tom wasn¡¯t so sure. Despite him spending most of his time around Kang, there were rarely any situations where they could talk frankly. He was pretty sure that Kang felt the same way he did, but he didn¡¯t know for sure. Maybe normal people were built differently. Maybe they enjoyed the easy routine orphanage life enforced. A period that was special for a different reason, even if was tainted by being forced to be around and act like children. It was possible they enjoyed being able to relax and not having a duty to fight. Potentially, it was he who was the strange one. Not that he cared. No matter what, he was going to do everything he could to win. Tom¡¯s third favourite thing was a community-focused one. It was this. With a cheerful smile, he stared up at the sky, the sun, and the great outdoors. For a moment, he stood there, breathing in the fresh air. While the orphanage was great and had lots of activities, sometimes a man - or a boy - just wanted to get outside and be himself. Every other weekend, they were released for the afternoon to explore the town, and it was almost as precious as his time in the trial. Not that Tom had any intention of wasting any more than a moment enjoying the freedom. He had training to do, and, with the memory of his recent consideration of what it took to gain an earned skill, Tom decided to take more risks than was usual. ¡°Let¡¯s play over there,¡± he said, pointing at one of the artillery pieces mostly at random. ¡°Lollies first.¡± Briana insisted. ¡°There¡¯ll be a line.¡± Tom countered. ¡°We play briefly, then go.¡± Before she could argue further, he took off at a sprint. It was the only way to manage her. The weapon he had chosen looked a lot like a two-story-high dung beetle. It was huge. Its pincers were longer than two metres, and its back carapace was shiny smooth metal. Perfect, he thought, and, without breaking stride, he clambered up it, trying to use speed to propel himself higher. The entire back was polished, and to declare the footing treacherous was an understatement. Gamely, he tried to maintain his momentum and run all the way up, but his foot slipped; then, on his hands and knees, he slid off the side, falling nearly two metres to the ground. Its highest point soared almost seven metres above the ground. If he fell from that height, Tom decided, it would have been a good start to his training. Once more, he felt blessed that Clare had completed his plan. If community fate wasn¡¯t active, and if it wasn¡¯t as powerful as it was, there was no way he would be attempting this. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. With a broad grin, he jogged back to line things up for another attempt. Kang was looking at him like he was an idiot, but he ignored him. He retreated a full five metres away from the base of the statue, which was enough for someone his size to accelerate to full pace and then ran at it even faster than before. This time, he got half-way up before slowing down, and then an errant foot slipped on the smooth metal. He threw himself flat as he slid off the side, and used the full extent of the technical body skills amassed over the years of performing similar stunts to orientate his legs down. Unfortunately, instead of sliding gently to the ground, because he was higher, he plunged off the edge of the giant beetle, and, while airborne, spent a single point of fate to protect himself. The drop was almost two metres, and he had not been fully balanced while falling. That fact caused him to overbalance slightly, and, rather than falling vertically, he did it at a slight angle, which was far more dangerous. A squeal escaped him as he struck the ground. He kicked off to buy himself time to rotate, to land on his shoulder, then to tumble head over heels and help dissipate the force of the fall. ¡°Ta,¡± Briana squealed as she ran over to him. ¡°Tom. Are you hurt? Do you need a healer?¡± Slightly dazed from the bone-rattling impact, he assessed his own body. He was shaken, and a normal kid would probably risk going into shock, but for Tom it was a regular enough occurrence that he wasn¡¯t reacting to the situation like that. A few bones were sore, but he was pretty confident that nothing was broken. He sprang to his feet, ignoring the slight ache the movement caused, and grinned. This was a chance to train and push himself. ¡°That was awesome. Let¡¯s do it again!¡± Kang looked decisively unimpressed, but was forced to join in when Briana started copying him. Tom forced himself to be more reckless in his approach than he would have been if he was really just trying to reach the top. While the others fell as regularly as he did, when they did so it was usually a controlled backsliding. That was fun, but didn¡¯t risk them doing any damage to themselves. Tom, on the other hand, mostly tumbled off the sides, sometimes safely on his bum, but just as often on his feet, or, more concerningly, headfirst. His fate reduced significantly while they trained. A single point was spent on each of the more dangerous tumbles. That was how he intended to use his fate from now on, at least when he wasn¡¯t saving to spend it all in a burst to support a perfect spell or skill attempt. The allure of a fate-linked Earned Skill was too tantalising for him to use the limited fate resource on anything else. Every time, he was able to ensure the tumble did nothing more than superficial injuries. His recklessness, however, was not passing unnoticed. Kang was glowering at him noticeably, and he knew his antics were going to earn him a lecture and possibly another intervention. However, he found he didn¡¯t care. What he was doing was too important to worry about stuff like that. There were too many overt safety features indoors for him to take the risks necessary to get an Earned Skill, so it had to be done out here. Kang reached the top and, with his aid they all made it, and were able to sit on the pinchers looking out over the town. It was an amazing view. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying it. ¡°Problem,¡± Kang called out suddenly and pointed. Briana¡¯s head snapped to look, but Tom didn¡¯t need to do the same. He was already watching them. On the horizon, there were a lot of black dots and they were getting closer. Chapter 63.2 – Town Assault ¡°What is it?¡± Briana asked, sounding puzzled. ¡°A monster swarm.¡± Kang guessed. She looked worried at that answer. ¡°Does that mean we should¡­? Should we go inside?¡± Kang nodded immediately. ¡°There¡¯s no need until the alarm goes.¡± Tom argued. ¡°I want to see if they attack.¡± That was enough for Briana, and they watched the dots get larger. They were a long way away, which just told Tom that. whatever they were; they were massive. The size-of-a-plane kind of large. The massive war machine under them shifted slightly. All three of them clutched at the pinchers to stop themselves from falling. The previously immovable statue was vibrating slightly. ¡°Move! Get to the ground now.¡± Kang ordered in a panicked voice. None of them hesitated. They slid off on their tummies. By the time they reached the bottom, the vibrations had intensified. Their rush to abandon their perch proved unnecessary. Half a minute passed with no change to the machine, but the dots in the sky continued to get closer. The alarms started ringing, and, at the same time, there was a sound of slightly rusted gears moving. With a squeal of metal, the beetle shifted its position slightly. All the artillery pieces were doing the same. ¡°We need to go back.¡± Briana told them, reacting to the alarm. ¡°I want to see,¡± Tom told her. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid.¡± Kang snapped. ¡°Your recklessness while climbing the beetle was bad enough.¡± The other boy was mad, and that anger was making him slip in his speech patterns more than he should have done. That made Tom feel bad. Risking himself was one thing, but putting another in danger was another. ¡°The alarms are ringing. We need to go where it¡¯s safe.¡± Tom ignored Kang and instead looked for a better location. He knew, from his previous observations, that the grass around the beetle was often torn up. Staying where they were was sure to put them in danger and cause an adult to intervene, and he didn¡¯t want that. He had overheard some older kids talking about watching these fights, so he wanted to see them firsthand, and it was clearly allowed, even if officially discouraged. The town seemed to suffer an attack once or twice a month. But given how rarely they were outside, this might be their last chance to see one for a couple of years, so he didn¡¯t want to be forced to retreat. He spotted artillery that looked like a radio telescope. He had noticed, before, that the lush grass went all the way up to the edges of the device, and it was never damaged post-engagement. That would be safe as a nearby shelter. He took off at a run. ¡°Ta, that the wrong way.¡± Briana yelled at him. He shook his head defiantly. ¡°You go. I want to see.¡± Briana appeared conflicted. ¡°I want to see too.¡± She said finally and then ran over to him. Kang, with a curse, joined him. ¡°If I die because of this¡­ Bloody, stupid, stubborn heroes!¡± He finished, his voice lowered to no more than a muttering when it came to the final few words. Tom recognised that last bit, said under his breath, as a pointed dig at him, even if an outside observer was never going to be able to spot the relevance. They both knew what Kang had meant. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The dots had resolved themselves into animals that looked like a cross between a jet engine and a blimp. ¡°It¡¯s sapients. We have to go. We can¡¯t stay out.¡± Kang insisted. ¡°We¡¯ll be safe.¡± Tom assured him, waving at where Dimitri had appeared in the centre of the lawn. They were not the only group of children who were staying out to watch. The orphanage liked to prepare their kids for Existentia, and Tom suspected that allowing impressionable children to experience these attacks was part of that effort. There were only a few other groups around. There were five-, ten-year-olds set up near a block-like device and a lone thirteen-year-old who rested against the orphanage wall near the door. ¡°We can¡¯t stay.¡± Kang repeated. He was stubbornly ignored. The monsters had gotten very close, and the various pieces of artillery started to fire. The beetle shuddered; then, a moment later, an ethereal version of it shot off into the sky. Its wings beat as though it was a living insect, and it honed in on one of the massive living transports. There were about fifty of them in all, and smaller figures were crowded on their backs. The response of the town was inspiring. All the unique artillery pieces - the ones on the hill, those surrounding the orphanage, and the dozens positioned in random parks - were firing at once. Some produced an ethereal beast like the beetle did; he saw wolves, a wyvern, and something that looked like a ghostly human, all launched and rushing the invaders. Those animalistic projectiles were intermingled amongst the more standard attacks. Some were like lasers, others just boring missiles of energy. Then there were bubbles that seemed to have a mind of their own. These would drift aimlessly for what felt like an eternity in combat until they locked onto a target. Then they would suddenly accelerate to be moving faster than an arrow. ¡°Non-Sapient,¡± Dimitri called out. ¡°Vessels are whale birds. They won¡¯t land, and don¡¯t have their own attack. They¡¯re just transport, and they¡¯re being controlled by Goblin Elementas. As per their name, these focus on a single element and usually a single ability within the element. On average, they¡¯ll have a rank range from forty to sixty-five, but, depending on the matchup, can hit well above that, or well below. They are a non-critical threat.¡± With that extra information both calming him and providing context, Tom found it was easier to watch the battle. The whale birds were sturdy creatures, especially when supplemented by the shields their passengers were casting to protect them. They were able to weather multiple artillery shots. A lot of the magical missiles were being countered by the magical defences. But ultimately, the sheer variety of attacks that the humans were throwing up made the difference. Eventually, a mana attack type that none of the passengers could block would target the whale bird, and, if the shot got through, even if it didn¡¯t immediately kill it, the subsequent follow-ups did. The domination in the aerial battle by itself was not enough. Unfortunately, killing a whale bird did not guarantee the death of all their passengers, and that was a problem now that they were over the town. A whale bird would die, but, despite that, most of the goblin elementa would reach the ground uninjured. Tom checked on Dimitri. The latter seemed completely unconcerned, so he returned to observing the fight. A whale bird drifted to directly above the orphanage - and then died as a beetle slammed into it from close range. It used its pinchers to tear into the aerodynamic blimp like creature and without resistance each bite was devastating. In seconds, it was clear the accumulated wounds were lethal. Goblins leapt from the dying carcass and fell towards where Tom crouched. For a moment he thought he had made a mistake by choosing to stay outside; but the fear only raised its head for an instant, which was all the time that passed between the goblins leaping off their doomed craft and a shield crackling into existence to protect the orphanage. Depending on their levels and elemental affinity, some of the goblins bounced off the defence, but others died in a blaze of magical energy. Despite the proximity of the monsters, Tom realised they were completely protected. ¡°Only dedicated shield-breakers have a chance of breaking through, and goblin elementas don¡¯t have anything like that.¡± Dimitri said loudly, pretending to talk to himself, but really addressing the scattered children. ¡°We¡¯re perfectly safe.¡± Outside the orphanage and its defensive shield, the rest of the town was not protected. A significant number of the monsters had made it to the ground. One of them waved a hand; a sickly yellow cloud zipped from it and slammed into a house. A person leapt clear of the structure, and the stone sizzled and melted, reducing the wall to nothing and revealing the now-empty insides. Tom swallowed. Chapter 63.3 – Town Assault For a moment, he had forgotten what being rank-fifty meant. That attack hadn¡¯t even been channeled - it had been as instantaneous as someone casting a flamethrower spell, but many times more deadly. The creature that had cast it was a yellow shade, and it was then that Tom noticed that goblins, unlike those that had been portrayed in books and unlike what his experience in the tutorial told him, came in a variety of shades and colours. He was pretty confident, based on the one example, that colouration was related to their elemental ability. Another house exploded as blue flames consumed it. It was so violent and quick that he couldn¡¯t tell if the person or people inside had escaped. Despite the chaos and speed of the raid, the defenders were not caught flat-footed. They were clinically grouping up and responding to the threats, understanding the invaders¡¯ nature. With an apparent minimum of communication and direction, they split into small groups to target the individual enemy clusters. Like that, the grouping of five was eliminated. The yellow goblin gestured at the three humans approaching it. The sickly yellow gaseous cloud burst toward them, but a white light countered it hard and ripped it to bits. A different human waved his hands, and earth shards tore the goblin caster apart. One of the yellow goblin¡¯s four companions, who had a dark grey shade, reacted to what was happening. A black ball of energy appeared above its head, only for the third human to gesture and have the black ball burst, killing its summoner and the other three monsters next to it. There were similar displays everywhere Tom looked. A group of blue-skinned goblins, all with the same exact skin tone, was approached by a single woman. They faced her, and a stream of water shot out of one of their hands. It diverted around the woman instead of punching through her. Another produced a whip of water, and the third a shield. The unconcerned human continued to sprint at them. The whip fell apart when it got close to her, and the shield, instead of blocking her, snapped back and cut all four in half. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. They had been water specialists, and she had a domain that gave her control of any water within a few meters of her. The moment she had closed with them, they died. The same pattern was repeating endlessly. Wherever he looked, the humans engineered engagements where they countered the enemy hard and butchered them easily. It was so coordinated that, despite the occasional lost house, Tom suspected that the casualties would be few, if not zero. Given this was a rank-fifty force, and the hundreds, if not thousands, had made it to the ground, the overwhelming success of the defenders were impressive. It was a victory forged from strategic superiority, not raw power. Which, when he thought about it, was what being a competition species meant. The diversity of the builds humans could wield was the main reason that, as a species, they could fight beyond their weight class. The desperate explosive combat petered out to nothing in less than five minutes. The artillery was no longer firing. They had been inactive for a while, and, for over sixty seconds, there hadn¡¯t been a single explosion anywhere in town. It was over. People were everywhere, cleaning up the damage and collecting the dead bodies of the monsters. It was clear that the raid, or attack, or natural migration, was finished. ¡°Return to the orphanage.¡± Dimitri yelled out his tone, a clear order. ¡°All children are to be confined until clean-up is completed.¡± ¡°But we¡¯ve still got two hours,¡± One of the ten-year-olds called out. ¡°We¡¯ll have an outside session next week,¡± Dimitri told her. ¡°To compensate for this one being shorter. But, for now, it¡¯s too dangerous to explore. Move it. I want to see you inside now.¡± There was no arguing with that tone. If they made a fuss, they would lose their leave pass for future outside excursions. ¡°We¡¯re doing this every time.¡± Briana declared. ¡°No. The rules are there for a reason.¡± Kang objected. Tom looked between them and knew without a doubt that, if they were outside when the alarm went off, they would have stayed. Kang was mainly resisting the idea because he didn¡¯t want to stand out, but the man had a pattern. If Briana, as a non-rencarnator, pushed for something unusual, he would yield. They retreated back into the main gymnasium, and, given the time, headed toward either the obstacle course or dodging pits. It was difficult to tell, as the start of the route to both was the same. Briana was leading them, and while, knowing her, he could as good as guarantee that she was heading to one of them, he couldn¡¯t predict which. Apparently, she felt like challenging herself with the obstacle course. The play on the beetle must have inspired her. Just before entering, Tom froze and stared at the nearest stairwell. Eloise was there, beset upon by Joseph and his two friends. The now eight-year-old bullies loomed over her. She was trapped. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Finally, I¡¯ve got you.¡± Joseph declared, smugly. ¡°And there¡¯s no adults to interfere. Your ring is depleted.¡± He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re mine.¡± It was clear what was about to go down. Suddenly, Kang gripped him firmly around the waist and rushed him forward into the obstacle course room. ¡°What? Stop that.¡± Tom protested as the door frame broke his view of the confrontation. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± While he couldn¡¯t physically see it anymore, he knew what was about to happen. Burning anger started to rise. He wanted to go check, confirm, and then intercede. He wrestled with Kang to try to escape his clutches and rush back into the corridor. His friend was having none of it. With a grunt of effort, Kang tripped him, then fell on top of him, effectively pinning him under his greater weight. Tom fought back half-heartedly, torn as to what was the right response. He was a little shocked at the development. His brain tried to understand what was happening. Was this an intervention? Then the primal emotions intensified once more and blanked out rational thought. Those boys were going to bully Eloise. He couldn¡¯t accept that. It was his job to protect her. He could feel the fury bleeding out to increase the strength of his muscles. While he didn¡¯t want to hurt Kang, if he twisted and launched himself to his feet, he would be free to avenge the injustice happening just beyond his view. ¡°They¡¯re not doing anything to her.¡± Kang promised him. What? he thought and almost miraculously the words sapped some of his anger, and in doing so stripped away a chunk of the power infusing him. Kang was heavier than him, and without a magical boost, he lacked the leverage to dislodge him. ¡°They are, too.¡± He argued. ¡°No, they aren¡¯t. Briana, can you check?¡± Briana was standing in the doorway, looking out. ¡°They¡¯re not touching her. They¡¯ve left.¡± She was clearly lying because her voice was monotone, and she refused to make eye contact. As an attempt at deception, it was laughable, but it was successful in creating doubt. More power left him. ¡°Get off me.¡± Kang stayed exactly where he was. ¡°They¡¯ve left her alone, so there¡¯s no harm if I check.¡± ¡°Yeah, they have.¡± Kang agreed, but didn¡¯t move to release him. Tom thrust his hips up to try and dislodge the heavier weight, then he threw himself sideways. Neither technique helped in the slightest, and he knew Kang was not a kid. He had an adult¡¯s mind, and would know every single one of the wrestling tricks that Tom did. They remained in the stalemate position for five minutes, Briana watching at the door and Kang physically restraining him. Finally, Briana left where she stood. ¡°Let¡¯s do some runs. We¡¯ve got over two hours before dinner.¡± Tom, finally released rushed, to the doorway and looked toward the stairway. Eloise and the three boys who had been potentially assaulting her were gone. The artificial anger that had dropped to a simmer fell completely away, and he sagged slightly in response to the release of the pressure. Even if it had happened, it was clearly over, and there was nothing he could do to fix the situation anymore. Feeling more than a small amount of shock, he processed the extent of the intervention. Kang interceding was expected, but Briana¡¯s actions confused him. That lying had not been a spur-of-the-moment decision. She might be a genius with spell casting and fate, but she didn¡¯t think that fast. ¡°Bri,¡± Tom said hesitantly. ¡°Why did you do that?¡± She shrugged, and only half paid him any attention. ¡°You get angry when people are bullied. Your anger is no good. I spoke to Kang. This was our solution.¡± Tom stared at her. Briana turned away and started running her chosen obstacle course. It was the fifth easiest. For her, that was the end of the conversation. He looked at Kang to see what he thought of her explanation. The other boy shrugged. ¡°She was pretty insistent.¡± That answer floored Tom for a moment. Was the intervention seriously Bri¡¯s idea? Kang had no reason to lie, and it was dangerous to discuss the topic further. He let it go and instead threw himself into the course while thinking about Earned Abilities. There was absolutely no reason to hold anything back, and every time he was about to suffer a nasty fall he used a point of fate hoping it would do something. The weeks blended together as he continued focusing on his development and stretching his weak, pathetic body as far as it could go. Static Spark has been long-since mastered, and he evolved two of the three sub-abilities that fed into Spark. Another month, and he was going to have that lynchpin spell back again. He had also maintained the momentum when it came to his healing spells, and, with April¡¯s help, had managed to get Heal Lung. He was also more than halfway to getting all the prerequisites for Heal Organs, though both the potential lethal brain- and heart-specific spells still had to be perfected. These were probably the largest obstacles when it came to all the spells he wanted to learn. ¡°You know you don¡¯t need to get every prerequisite to force a perfect cast.¡± April said as she sipped the coffee opposite him. ¡°You have lungs, skin, liver, kidney and stomach. That¡¯s enough of a base to jump straight to Heal Organs, and then Touch Heal will be easy to advance afterwards. To be honest, at this point you could probably evolve to Touch Heal immediately and skip the Heal Organs step completely.¡± ¡°No. I¡¯ve already got two sideways evolutions on my organs. Think how powerful it¡¯ll be to get something similar for my brain or heart.¡± April nodded. ¡°Pursuing passive evolutions was definitely the right choice.¡± ¡°Much better than I¡¯ve expected. Iron Stomach is a great passive.¡± ¡°I figured you would like that, but, in my opinion, the upgrade to the liver is superior. Having your liver process everything three times as efficiently will be huge for you.¡± He grinned. ¡°They¡¯re both great. I won¡¯t be comparing them. But them being so good is also why I¡¯m not about to take short-cuts. Building these spells from scratch was definitely the right decision. I¡¯m giddy just thinking about what getting a passive ability on my brain will give me. Smarter, resistant to damage, possibly let me heal from mortal wounds like decapitation? The possibilities just feel too incredible to not try everything I can to get it.¡± April smiled. ¡°Do you want my help? Should I buy a guide?¡± ¡°Yes to help and no to a guide. My gut tells me completing it with the aid of a guide is a mistake. It might even stop the chance of getting a lucky sideway evolution.¡± ¡°Ooh, so my job will be to keep hitting you until I damage your brain?¡± She clapped her hands in what he hoped was mock-excitement. ¡°Yes, April that¡¯s exactly what I want.¡± He said dryly. Chapter 64.1 – Unexpected Outcomes Tom monitored his fate pool as he was spinning the wooden hammer through the forms that April had showed him. Both he and April had decided that the short while he had access to the trial was too precious to be spent practicing with his secondary weapon. For that reason, he dedicated some of the hours in the isolation room to it instead. Despite it having limited long-term value, he needed it for his public persona. As far as everyone else in the orphanage were concerned, he was going to be a slightly above-average hammer and lightning wielder. Precognition, Earth, and Spear skills would be kept hidden so that no one could link him directly with his past life. It was a small deception, but one he felt compelled to pursue. Hence the practice. While he was training, he monitored his fate pool. When it ticked up to full, he placed the hammer down. He had only been training for twenty minutes, which meant there was more than enough time remaining in the isolation room to do what he really wanted. He focused on deep, even breaths to recover, then ran through the prerequisite spells that he had mastered so far and cast them each in turn with a single point of mana. Physical Shock simply allowed him to zap someone via contact. It was designed to be cast through the hands but the spell form was flexible enough that he could use his toes, knees, elbows or nose if he wanted to. Unfortunately, it was too weak to be effective in combat. Ionised Air, the next spell, was a support to prime his environment for more powerful electricity spells. After casting it, he instantly felt all the hairs on the back of his hand, neck, and head rise up. Then Plasma Path let him create a link between two spots. For now, he picked a point at head-height for him and linked it to the metal combat dummy stand. Preparations complete, he cast his final spell, Electricity Explosion. Sparks rained out from the open point, with about seventy percent of them using the link he had created with Plasma Path to discharge harmlessly into the combat dummy stand. Once levelled-up, they would be a good set of abilities, even if all of them were officially classed as mid-tier-zero trash. While Tom could see how they could be developed into a flexible, and probably powerful, set of combination attacks that would be simplified when he combined them all into Spark. While he waited for the mana he had just expended to fully recharge, he created the frameworks in front of him. While he liked the spells, their evolutions had been a disappointment. Out of all four of them, only Plasma Path had qualified for a sideways evolution, and it only made his control of lighting twenty percent better, which felt like a weak improvement. He hoped, while creating Spark, that he would luck into something punchier. He wanted it to gain a sideways evolution with a passive effect; something to make it more potent, or a passive ability that could ignore resistances or increase the chances of a stun what it hit. Maybe a combination of all three. What he wanted was a basic upgrade to everything Spark did. With his desire locked firmly in place, he spent all of his fate, and then manually started to construct the perfect spell form. This was another spell that he had used extensively in his prior life. He knew in detail how to adjust the final product, to adapt it and stretch it to do far more than a tier-zero ability should have been able to do. However, like with Touch Heal, he lacked experience on the core structure of the spell. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The information provided in the isolation room was a massive help once more. The four subcomponents of the spell were created effortlessly; then he overlaid them on top of each other. They were all electricity-based spells, and there were large areas where the spells forms were identical. Those spots he allowed to merge by relaxing his iron will that had been holding them apart. There were only two internal lines that got a differentiating treatment. Those, as per the wire frame diagrams he was following, were kept separate. With the structure fully generated he put it in stasis while rechecking the sheets of paper against what he was building. Then he watched the ebbs and flows of the magic as the manually constructed spell transitioned from one wireframe in the document to the next. It felt perfect. Please, work, he prayed, and then started filling it up with mana. At first, it was only from his own pool, but that ran out, so he switched to his stored precognition mana. As the second type of mana entered the spell form, the lines of the spells buckled in a couple of spots and twisted in others. Some of the perfectly straight links grew deformed as the separate lines twirled around each other like you would do when creating a rope. Fate was acting in concert with the changes caused by the precognition affinity mana, so Tom did not try to stop it. Whatever it was doing, it was bound to be to his advantage. He had a suspicion that the precognition mana plus fate combination was an advantage only DEUS would be happy that he had discovered. Then, once all the mana he had access to was invested, he released the spell. A thick band of electricity snapped from his finger to slam into the inactive combat dummy¡¯s stand. It was blinding in its intensity. Crack. The noise was deafening, and then the smell of fresh ozone filled the air. There was a ding. With a relieved sigh, he lowered his arm and grinned. There was a temptation to rush to the status ritual to confirm the gain, but, given the time left in the isolation room, he was only going to get one use of it. So, rather than rushing to it, he paused for a moment to test something he had been wondering about. He concentrated impatiently on his precognition mana skill to push it to generate mana faster. Four points of mana later, he was ready. He triggered Spark, and the spell form crackled into existence. It was good to have it back. But he suppressed those feelings to focus on what mattered. He applied his knowledge and control gained from years of training to force Spark to act at a level most people couldn¡¯t imagine. A series of layers of static electricity appeared in the surrounding air. Tom was aware of all of them, and then he took the next step to turn it into a pseudo-domain. If anything went through the reduced two-metre range of the spell, he would be able to track it as it breached each unique layer. Almost instantly, he would have the predicted path of the projectile and its speed. It was a pseudo-sensing domain that had proven surprisingly useful in combat. There was no ding associated with forming the complex spell, but he could feel the improved responsiveness of the spell immediately, and, when he pushed, the range he could act at increased to two and a half metres. He grinned. It had worked out exactly how he had hypothesised it would. There were further easy jumps in levels that he could gain as well. He focused and drew the latent energy from the sensing spell back to him, demonstrating a different kind of control. Around half the potency was lost, but the rest of it appeared in his hand, ready to be reused. He established the pseudo-sensing domain, and it was even easier this time. Then he repeated the earlier test. Once more, around fifty percent returned to him, but he could feel that the percentage had improved slightly. He raised the ball of lightning above his head. Then he focused and created a series of paths for the lightning to follow; after that, it forked out to strike four different cupboards. His grin became broader. It was good to have the spell back. Chapter 64.2 – Unexpected Outcomes With his experimentation done and the spell hopefully levelled up, he went over to the ritual status screen and activated it. The full text of the spell appeared immediately. Spell: Spark ¨C Tier 0 (Level 27) Create and control small streams of electricity near your body. Sideways Evolution 1: You have 20% improved control over this spell Sideways Evolution 2: This spell has improved potency. The stun component ignores 100% of resistances and has a 30% increased chance of stunning. Threshold bonus 16: Volume of electricity produced is increased by fifty percent. Note: This spell has been constructed from component parts without the help of the system. If Spark is used in future evolutions or transformations, instead of automatically forfeiting the base spell, you will have the option to keep it in its unaltered state. There was a lot to unpack in the spell¡¯s description. Probably the most important thing was that his demonstrated proficiency had worked. For that one brief demonstration of skill, he had unlocked twenty-seven levels. That was half a decade of dedicated training achieved in a moment. A small part of him was disappointed he hadn¡¯t pushed the spell to level thirty-two in order to get access to an extra threshold bonus, but he guessed beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers. The benefit of those twenty-seven levels was significant. If you included the threshold bonus they had granted, not to mention the power boost of each level, the efficiency of the spell when compared to baseline had just doubled. The other important new piece of information was not the sideways evolution. While the second one was potent. it was not as significant as learning that peak-tier-created spells had permanency. The fact that he would keep Spark through evolutions was great. In his past life in Existentia, he had been forced to buy back Spark at a lower level after losing it via evolutions. If that happened again, he would not have to go through that process. Spark would be kept at its current level. Better still, the wording was pretty clear that this was a general system rule, so it would apply to Touch Heal as well. In his last life, he had turned down a powerful regeneration trait evolution because he had chosen to keep the healing spell. That decision had been the right one, as he had saved Clare¡¯s life a short time later, something he would have been unable to do if he had accepted the evolution. Despite it clearly being the right call, being forced to decline regeneration was a choice that still irked him. Now, because he was creating Touch Heal from scratch, he wouldn¡¯t need to worry about things like that. The important thing was¡­ He clicked his fingers. Crack. The spark flashed from his hand. The important thing was that he had a combat ability again. He could barely wait for the next trial session to check with April about how much this single ability had advanced his fighting prowess. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He left the isolation room and headed toward the dodge pits to catch up with the others. There was a spring in his step, and he even threw in a couple of skips. ¡°Why are you looking so happy?¡± Tom froze as he heard the voice. Boreas had always been volatile, but since Arnali had died, he had gotten worse. Slowly, he turned to face the other boy and told himself he was not going to overreact. ¡°I said why are you looking so happy.¡± ¡°No reason,¡± he lied as he willed himself not to use his new spell in the coming fight. He felt helpless. The rumour mill had not painted Boreas¡¯ recent actions in a positive light. If anyone deserved to be taught a lesson, it was him, and Tom could feel the fury radiating through him with every heartbeat. It was reacting to his emotions, and part of Tom wished he didn¡¯t have to suppress it. Humbling this kid, humiliating him by having him be defeated by a five-year-old, would bring Tom pleasure. Especially when his fists removed that arrogant, superior smirk. He forcefully stifled those thoughts. Unfortunately, he needed to keep a low profile. But his efforts barely made any headway. His animal self was already planning out ways he could cross the ten metres separating them to finish the fight quickly. Desperately, Tom tried to control himself. Boreas did not fight either fairly or safely, and, even if he was willing to go all out, Tom knew he might not win. Declan would interfere and, even with the extra attributes from his curse, Boreas, being twice as old, would be stronger and faster than him. This was not a contest he could win with blind aggression. ¡°Boreas, it¡¯s just a snotty kid,¡± Declan said, grabbing his friend¡¯s arm. ¡°Let him go.¡± ¡°He was prancing around like a fool. Like a lot of people didn¡¯t just die.¡± ¡°It was months ago.¡± ¡°Dragon you, Declan. It was my fault. I accept that. But dragon this guy, too, for acting like it didn¡¯t happen.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know that it was your fault.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± Boreas looked around with a grim smile. ¡°We¡¯re safe. No volunteers, no one to stop me. I¡¯ve been waiting for a chance like this. This is the punk that broke my leg.¡± Boreas flexed his fingers and grinned. ¡°And I¡¯m going to dragon him good. You¡¯re going to squeal, little boy.¡± Tom was torn about what to do. With Spark he had a reasonable chance of winning, but he didn¡¯t want to reveal his trump card too early. A still-five-year-old with access to a spell like that would draw attention, even if other kids his age like Briana had better spells. Revealing it now would not be a smart move. The anger screamed at him, but Boreas picking on him was not an injustice, and the stuff in the past was easy enough to discount. Staying to fight was not in his interests. He would run, he decided; a confrontation in this moment was not to his advantage. He attempted to step backwards, but he realised to his horror that his foot¡­ no, not just a single foot, but both of them. They were stuck firmly to the ground. The bastard had somehow tricked him. While squabbling with his friend, he had obviously cast the spell, and Tom cursed at his lack of attention that had let it form while he was standing there like a dunce. He struggled desperately, but the ice had sufficient time to thicken, and was now too strong for his meagre strength. He discretely applied a burst of electricity to see if it would disable the spell, but it didn¡¯t. He was trapped. ¡°You¡¯re not getting out of that.¡± Boreas promised. ¡°I¡¯ve had it tested. It can hold people up to rank nine. This first one is payback for your stupid grin.¡± A ball of ice shot from his hand and smacked into Tom¡¯s stomach. He doubled over and almost vomited in response, but he deliberately pretended to be more hurt than he was to buy himself some more time. His instincts were screaming at him. Something wasn¡¯t quite right, but he couldn¡¯t put a finger on what. Wiping his mouth, Tom stood. The cruel smirk on Boreas¡¯ face hadn¡¯t changed. He was trapped, and the other boy was not known for stopping at a light beating, yet¡­ Finally, Tom realised what had been troubling him. There hadn¡¯t even been a tingle from Danger Sense leading into the moment. That fact confused him no end. How could it stay silent like that? Why did it remain dormant instead of warning him? There had to be a reason, because there was no way Boreas had a skill to trump his ability, which, once adjusted for his affinity, was equivalent to a tier-seven version in terms of power. Chapter 64.3 – Unexpected Outcomes Another baseball-sized chunk of ice shot at him. He flinched back, but restricted, as he was, dodging was impossible, and it crashed into his shoulder, leaving what felt like an instant bruise. Why hadn¡¯t Danger Sense helped him? He was a sitting duck here, and Boreas had a reputation. Something wasn¡¯t right. There had to be a reason. Tom struggled to imagine why the skill had failed him. Boreas had even positioned himself so that Spark couldn¡¯t reach him. With no positive outlook for his magic, he constructed his sensing domain. It clicked into place almost instantly, which was a far cry from his first attempt after getting the spell. Those extra levels were gold. The outer layer of his sensing spell broke. Another ice missile was coming at him. His eyes and the layers of electricity both told the same story. It was heading straight for his head, and fast enough to do serious damage. Without thinking further, he flinched desperately to the side. The projectile grazed his temple. If it had struck full on, even with community fate working, he didn¡¯t want to imagine the level of damage that would have occurred. What was happening? Where was his Danger Sense? Was Boreas getting help from someone or something? A hundred questions went through his brain at the same time. And his mind kept looping around to the fear that Boreas was acting as a convenient idiot for something else to manipulate. An entity that had the ability to block his Danger Sense. And - was Boreas actually trying to kill him? Had he been that upset by the broken leg that he would seek this level of revenge? That last attack, if Tom had been a normal child, could well have been lethal. Another was coming, and he instinctively prepared for the worst, then relaxed slightly when he recognised the trajectory it was on. This was aimed lower at his shin, and there was no way to avoid it because of how firmly his foot was stuck to the floor. He heard the crack from both the ball of ice and his shinbone. He bit his tongue to hold in the scream. There was no way he was giving the sadistic bastard the satisfaction. Once more, he attempted to throw himself to the side to break the ice sticking him to the ground. The attempt did nothing. He was stuck and vulnerable. The entire situation confused him. There was no way he should be in this position. Namely, trapped, helpless, and at the mercy of someone who was only stronger because of his age. It was galling, but maybe he could talk his way out. ¡°Boreas I¡¯m sorry¡­ I.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± Another ball of ice was aimed at his privates and even pre-warned and dodging as fast as he could it smashed into his hip. ¡°Please, Boreas, you don¡¯t have to do this.¡± ¡°Boreas,¡± a female voice snapped furiously from behind Tom. ¡°What on Existentia do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± The bully¡¯s mouth dropped open in horror. ¡°Mum, what are you doing here?¡± ¡°Doing here? I rushed back once I got the news about Arnali. What are you doing to this poor child?¡± Tom could hear her approaching. Boreas straightened. ¡°He was mocking you. He called you a pretend adventurer. Said you were unnerved.¡± ¡°I did not,¡± Tom protested. ¡°Wait a moment. I know this child. This is the same one as last time. Do you spend all your time picking on him?¡± she asked suspiciously. ¡°Targeting the weak is repulsive. It¡¯s not acceptable. This place has raised you wrong. I should never have allowed you to be enrolled here.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Her hand landed firmly on his shoulder, and then the ice on his feet disappeared. There was an itchy sensation on his shin as it healed and the bruises where missiles had hit him vanished. ¡°Are you okay, deary? Those were some nasty injuries. You¡¯re very brave, not crying.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him, mum. I told you what he was saying. He is a nasty foul-mouthed child.¡± ¡°I did not.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t matter. The assassins killed Arnali.¡± His attempt at deflection and distraction was obvious. ¡°No, Boreas, I¡¯m not letting this slide. This has gone too far.¡± She snapped her fingers in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s time you learned that there are consequences for behaving as poorly as you are.¡± She opened a fist and revealed a trait stone. A fancy one at that. ¡°This is your first consequence. I was going to give you this. It isn¡¯t amazing by any stretch of the imagination, but it¡¯s not a bad trait, and, despite its flaws, is valuable. It would have given you a head start in your adventuring career, but, seeing you picking on this poor child, I can¡¯t possibly reward you. How many times have you done this?¡± ¡°Hardly ever.¡± ¡°Dozens,¡± Tom lied instantly, aiming to get Boreas in as much trouble as possible. While Tom¡¯s own exposure to him was more limited, others hadn¡¯t been as fortunate. He had caused multiple people to need to see actual healers, not that the volunteers had been told the true reason why they were so hurt that the healing crystals were inadequate. Most of the people he picked on were too scared to dob him in. ¡°That many? You poor, poor boy.¡± He got hugged again. Boreas¡¯ face darkened and promised retribution. Tom didn¡¯t care. ¡°No, you don¡¯t deserve the trait stone. Instead of giving it to you, I¡¯ll give it to this poor kid. It won¡¯t make the bullying better, but it¡¯ll help a little.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± Boreas exclaimed. ¡°I very well can.¡± Suddenly Tom found himself holding a trait stone. ¡°He¡¯s five. He might end up as a crafter and waste the trait.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to be an adventurer,¡± Tom declared and then used spark to create a bolt of lightning that stretched almost a metre and a half. It was about a third of what he could do, but, if Maurice was as competent as he expected, she would recognise the skill that was behind the effort. ¡°Very impressive.¡± She cooed. ¡°And am I right that you don¡¯t have a not-parent?¡± ¡°Yes. I come from the community care.¡± ¡°It was an impulsive decision, but you¡¯ll definitely get a benefit from the trait stone. You can have it. Use it now so it¡¯s not taken from you.¡± She glared at Boreas as she said that. It looked very fancy, but there were lots of traits that were better off going to people other than him. While he was pro-selfishness and personal development, the greater good was still important. ¡°Um¡­ What does it do?¡± ¡°Oh, nothing much,¡± Maurice said dismissively. ¡°It boosts your perception, and thinking speeds when fighting things faster than you. At lower levels, it¡¯s useful, but has terrible scaling into higher ranks.¡± She winked at him. ¡°Unless, of course you can grow it with you to keep it relevant.¡± Tom stared at the item he held in stunned disbelief. His gut was telling him that this hadn¡¯t been engineered by Everlyn or Dimitri. Maurice was not the type to play a game like that, especially at the expense of her son. This was pure chance. An opportunity there was no way he should have received. Not for the first time, he wondered what was baked into the community prayers. This would make the third material gift a random adult had given him in under a year and a half, and it wasn¡¯t a reincarnator thing, because Kang had gained nothing comparable. The most likely explanation was that there was some sort of convoluted prayer in place that was abnormally benefitting him because of some weird reason, one probably related to the whole Heroes of Humanity thing. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t look at it like that. It¡¯s not that bad, dearie. You¡¯ll get a lot of use out of it. Trust me, I¡¯m a rank-ninety adventurer I know what I¡¯m saying.¡± ¡°No. I didn¡¯t. I love it.¡± Tom declared. ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s okay?¡± The moment she inclined her head slightly, he raised the stone straight to his forehead so she couldn¡¯t change her mind. In a blink of an eye, the trait was absorbed and the fancy stone that had stored it crumbled away. ¡°This is a lesson to you, Boreas. You have to stop picking on people weaker than you. Now.¡± She blurred across the distance separating them and grabbed her son firmly by the arm. ¡°I¡¯m taking you both to Dim, and making sure you get disciplined appropriately. I won¡¯t tolerate you behaving like this.¡± Tom watched in shock as the adventurer and the two boys marched away, heading straight toward Dimitri¡¯s office. Then he sank down to sit on the ground, with the only allowance being that he scooted over so his back was against the wall, so that anyone using the corridor wouldn¡¯t have to walk over him. That was¡­ that was weird, and at the same time awesome. If the trait did what Maurice promised, the biggest impediment to him getting into the Divine Champion¡¯s Trial was gone. It beggared belief, and he wondered whether DEUS had just burned some kind of divine intervention to give him this. It felt wrong. He did not feel like he deserved special consideration, but there was the issue of his missing memories, and the way Dimitri had treated him after speaking to Everlyn. There was something bigger happening here, and he couldn¡¯t wait until he reached age ten in order to see his full status sheet and discover exactly what mysteries it was hiding. It was possible the ability to pierce illusions, this rage curse and protection against mind attacks were not the only hidden things in his status. As for Danger Sense, apparently, when it was stronger, its application was far more nuanced than he had imagined. Chapter 65.1 – Exploiting the Trait Eventually, Tom picked himself up. His brain was still swarming with the implications of being given the trait. However, he was pragmatic enough to acknowledge that the reasons he received the stroke of luck weren¡¯t as important as the fact that he had. The answer could end up being the equivalent of an ant hill being made into a mountain. It was possible that Dimitri had been manipulating things from the shadows, or that community fate was twisting probabilities, or even that DEUS was using a divine intervention, or something as equally as weird. But, honestly, that didn¡¯t matter. It was his. He had absorbed it, and it couldn¡¯t be taken away. The divine champion¡¯s trial was his to reach and profit from. His movements almost reluctant, he started to walk. The others would be worried about him, and, as momentous as the moment was, there was nothing he could do until he got access to an isolation room tomorrow. With lighter steps than usual, he continued his day. Kang watched him suspiciously, but he ignored the scrutiny and threw himself into harder and harder obstacles and taking nastier and nastier tumbles as a result. As he held his hand to the healing crystal for the disturbingly long fifteen seconds, and it felt like every single individual rib was being mended and shifted to their correct positions, Kang approached him. The other boy shifted awkwardly. ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯ve noticed.¡± Tom turned and met his eyes flatly, not wanting to talk about why he was happy even if gossip rings would eventually let everyone know. Either Declan or Boreas were bound to let the secret slip. ¡°Um¡­ yeah, I guess you can¡¯t talk about it?¡± ¡°Talk about what?¡± Tim asked innocently. Kang flushed. ¡°Um¡­ how you¡¯ve been approaching training.¡± Privately, Tom was surprised by that revelation. This was not the reason he had guessed for the looks he had been receiving. But, he supposed, in hindsight it was not a surprise. Tom had been training aggressively for days, and it was expected that Kang would notice. It was just a coincidence that he had chosen to raise the concern on the same day that Tom had other things happening. Frustration washed over the other boy¡¯s features. He started to point at Tom¡¯s chest and then stopped himself. ¡°Sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have come over. I have nothing. Absolutely nothing to talk to you about.¡± With another frown, he walked away, ignoring the eighth run that had full safety features incorporated, and instead stopped in front of the identical ninth that didn¡¯t. It was the obstacle course Tom had been using under the guise of turning it into a direct race rather than a timed one. He looked back at Tom questioningly, and Tom deliberately kept his face neutral. ¡°This sucks.¡± Kang muttered, before doing a couple of stretches, as though they would help. Briana had, of course, noticed the interaction. ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Kang.¡± She glared at Tom. ¡°Why are you doing it? Don¡¯t.¡± Naturally, neither of them answered. Tom because he understood the cost of sharing the information, and Kang both for the same reason and because he didn¡¯t actually know why Tom was doing what he was. ¡°Why are you doing it?¡± She repeated. Kang sighed. ¡°Because of that idiot.¡± She stamped her foot. ¡°That¡¯s a stupid reason. Tom, explain yourself.¡± ¡°If I make a mistake, I want to feel it.¡± Tom told her. ¡°That¡¯s really dumb. Kang, don¡¯t be as dumb as this one.¡± Tom walked up beside her. ¡°It¡¯s good that you care, Bri. But if he wants to do it, then don¡¯t stop it.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not listening to you. You¡¯re the problem.¡± She snapped at him. She looked almost hurt by his and now Kang¡¯s apparent stupidity. ¡°What¡¯s your issue? Even if that,¡± she gestured in annoyance at the healing crystal. ¡°Even if that fixes everything. It still hurts. Why would you do it?¡± ¡°It does hurt,¡± he agreed. ¡°But that won¡¯t stop me.¡± The whole time he had been speaking, he had been watching Kang, who was losing his nerves. The other boy stiffened slightly at the reaffirmation of Tom¡¯s intentions. His expression of worry transformed into one of determination. Kang ran the ninth obstacle course, cautiously. He didn¡¯t fall once. Tom followed and took far more risks and beat the larger boy¡¯s time by a few seconds. It wasn¡¯t an impressive result, until you factored in the impact of the handicap he was applying via his ring. Kang knew about the ring, and the fact Tom had managed a superior time was damning. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The boy kicked the ground, an angry expression on his face. Then he slouched and looked abashed. ¡°I can do better.¡± ¡°Yes, don¡¯t mope. Just go faster next time.¡± Tom told him. The larger boy straightened. On his next attempt, he was substantially more reckless, and was on track not just to beat Tom¡¯s time, but to smash it; until, on the fourth last obstacle, he attempted to leap across a gap instead of going around the edge like it was designed for. The leap was beyond ambitious, and Tom was not sure the feat was even possible without five or six more years of growth, or else a magic skill. Kang did not have either of those, so he missed the attempt by a good foot and struck his nose on the way down. Blood poured everywhere, but he didn¡¯t complain. He went to the healing crystal, then lined up to do the same thing again. Internally, Tom nodded, pleased by the determination being shown here, while externally making all the right noises. ¡°Are you sure you should be doing this? Don¡¯t you think you¡¯re going too hard? Shouldn¡¯t you do the easier course?¡± Briana supported him with similar suggestions. With Kang participating in the near-suicidal training, there was even a chance they might eventually convince Briana to join them. That, however, was not about to happen quickly. When they broke for dinner, she still looked pissed at them, so it was going to take time. Besides, Tom was not convinced getting her to partake in the same reckless activities was sensible. The single Earned Skill example that he had had relied on unrealised technical skills which both he and Kang had from the tutorial; but, despite Briana being as much of a genius with the obstacle courses as she was with her water magic, he doubted that she would have that level of proficiency. When she fell, she inevitably got hurt far more than either of them, which suggested her gymnastic skills were weaker than theirs. For now, it was a moot point anyway. When they got to dinner, Briana made a point of sitting away from them. ¡°This better be worth it.¡± Kang told him quietly. Tom didn¡¯t answer. He wasn¡¯t going to take a risk when it came to such a sensitive topic, and his silence told its own story. The next day, Briana behaved as though nothing had happened. However, some level of trust had been broken, and she insisted on them doing magic practice all morning instead of engaging in anything more physical. The tension was frustrating, and it was a relief when he finally got to enter the isolation room. The instant he was sealed tight within its confines, he went to the status ritual and focused on understanding what Maurice had given him. Text flashed into existence on the screen. Trait: Speed Matching Have both your perception and thinking speed boosted to ninety percent of the level of any person, animal, or beast that is attacking you. It will only trigger if you¡¯re aware of the enemy. This trait does not boost body abilities, but will assist in expedited spell and skill usage. Tom did a fist bump as he read it, and a massive grin blossomed on his face. Thank you, DEUS, he thought. The trait was exactly what Maurice had promised, and, reading it, he also understood why it wouldn¡¯t scale well into higher levels. When you were at the low ranks, you were much more likely to run into a monster that had a substantial speed advantage against you. It was just how the distribution of them worked. A low-levelled area could have a roaming boss twice as strong as the average, but that same roaming threat in a high-levelled area might only be thirty percent stronger. In both cases, that jump would create something nearly undefeatable to any nearby adventurers, with the creature being thirty percent stronger, and its balanced mix of abilities representing, on a relative scale, a deadlier threat than that of the weaker monsters any team just starting out would face. The Speed Matching trait would only have a limited effectiveness against the higher-ranked monster, because the enhanced abilities would still remain a threat, but in the low-levelled area it would be a significant boost that would help him flee the enemy. For lower-ranked adventurers, the trait could be a lifesaver, but at higher levels, not so much. More specifically, for him, this stroke of luck would allow him to cross the divide and reach his goal of achieving a general combat ranking of four. To get that, he needed to be capable of defeating ninety-nine point nine, nine percent of rank-four monsters in one-on-one battles. Given that his attributes had barely reached rank one, that was a tough ask. His rule of thumb had always been that you could fight up to thirty percent on an attribute gap, but beyond that, the task became increasingly more difficult. For this, he needed to go four times, which would have been impossible without his specific skill set and experience. Rank-one creatures weren¡¯t supposed to possess multiple spells along with spear mastery the way he had. The effects of the trait, unfortunately, couldn¡¯t be tested until he got into the trial, so he threw himself back into routine. Two days later, he finally got to raise his hand and place it on the not-quite-real sphere that represented the trial in his three-dimensional space that humans could perceive. He appeared in the forest with a spear in his hand. He glanced around quickly, confirming that there were no enemies about to attack him. ¡°No, April! Not yet. Can we talk first?¡± he yelled out. The world blurred, and he was sitting at the cafe. ¡°I got the trait.¡± He exclaimed excitedly. ¡°I can see.¡± ¡°Do you think this is enough? Am I general combat four now?¡± She inclined her head to the side and frowned, then gave a slight shake of her head. ¡°No, unfortunately not.¡± ¡°But¡­ No, I have to be close. I upgraded Spark as well.¡± She half glared at him. ¡°I¡¯m not blind. Of course I¡¯m aware of that, but both of them combined is not enough.¡± ¡°Really? They have synergy. It must be close.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± she interrupted him harshly. ¡°But the trait¡¯s better than expected, and that stun upgrade on Spark is basically the best-case scenario, and¡­¡± ¡°I said getting that strong was a near impossibility. And you¡¯re not listening. You¡¯re terrible when you get an idea in your head. You really struggle to change course.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not right. I¡¯m not fixed in my ways. I¡¯m adaptable.¡± ¡°You¡¯re impossible, at least until you see the proof.¡± She sighed. ¡°Here, let me show you.¡± Abruptly, he found himself in a meadow. There were trees in the distance, but the ground itself was closer to a golf fairway than a natural field. Chapter 65.2 – Exploiting the Trait He glanced around, wondering what was going to happen. Then his Danger Sense flared up, and the leaves of the trees that had been gently swaying seemed to almost freeze. They were still moving, but far slower than they had been. Tom instantly understood that this was his new trait at work. His perception had been sped up, even if his body gained no improvements. With wide eyes, he searched for the monster that Danger Sense had tagged as threatening him, and then spotted it flying at him from directly in front. The monster was tiny and looked weird. It was a chaotic mess of energy rather than anything defined. Much of it resembled an air elemental, but not the normal type. It was more compact than usual, and it was heading straight at him and moving at a speed that, even with his boost, it was hard to follow. There was no time to do anything but react on instinct. As he would have done if a bird was menacing him like this, he sent his orders to his muscles to move his spear tip into position to push it away. Instantly, he realised that the reflex was wrong. His muscles complained immediately, and he thought it was possible that he had torn something. His weapon and muscles also failed to respond even close to the rate he needed. The trait boosted his perception, but did nothing for his body, and he was just incapable of moving fast enough to compete with the monster¡¯s speed. It flashed past him at the level of his head. A slither of its compact, swirling mass extended out from the main body like a spinning saw blade to reach for him. Despite the risk, Tom was fascinated. At close range, its nature was as indecipherable as it had been at a distance. His original guess about a concentrated air elemental remained, but it could have also been an exotic monster that used biological processes completely different from anything that had developed on Earth. His cheeks stung as its slicing appendage cut into him. Luckily, it was only slightly larger than a mouse, so it was limited in the amount of burst damage it could inflict. Nevertheless, the single encounter gave him more than sufficient information to assess what he was facing. There was no way he could beat this thing physically. Even if each cut was insignificant, given enough time, it would wear him down with a thousand of them. Briefly, Tom wondered whether he could out-heal the monster. If he recovered fast enough, it would be as though he were like one of the giant monsters that Tom couldn¡¯t currently damage despite their low ranking. He tested the idea by exploring the cost for him to close the cut. A full mana was all that was required, but that was still way too much. There was no feasible path for him to keep up with its damage output, if its first blow was consistent with what it would continue to deliver. Prolonging the battle was not a possibility. Instead, he needed to kill it quickly. Intelligence was always critical in these kinds of contests, so he hacked a sensing spell together. To save on energy, he only placed three layers in it. That compromise would lower its effectiveness, but, combined with Danger Sense, which was already warning him of an attack from behind, and the fact that it was a curated battle with one opponent, he didn¡¯t actually need that much accuracy. The outer layer of his sensing construction was broken behind him. It was coming again. Then, in a blink of real time, the second one failed. It was too quick for him to turn and face it, but his magic didn¡¯t have the same level of restrictions. Electricity, fuelled partially by precognition affinity mana, crackled into existence. He aimed it for a metre in front of the monster in order to hit it, because it was going so fast that¡¯s what he had to do, even with a spell which was almost instantaneous, like Spark. The current of electricity, concentrated enough to disable a human, struck true. It should have been overkill against a monster as small as the one he faced, but the magic had no noticeable effect. It didn¡¯t even slow it down. The creature flashed past him, and he touched his waist. It came away dripping with blood and in the time it took him to do that, he suffered two more scratches. Both wounds were on his lower back, and the clothes that had been tough enough to deny the bat¡¯s claws did nothing to stop the concentrated attack of this creature. Spark had failed, but there was no time to consider the mechanics of why, because the creature was coming against him again. He watched it, unsure of what to do. It was still moving too fast for him to physically react, but, because it was fully in his eyeline, he could follow its progress. Crack. Another lightning spell arced out and struck it head-on. This crackling bolt of energy would have taken down an adult human. The monster, whatever it was, briefly had its internals lit up by the strike, but then it was past him, leaving an additional cut on his upper arm. Tom had struck twice with the best Spark had to offer, and had failed to damage it. He needed to change strategies. Despite the sideways evolution which was supposed to have greatly increased the chance of his magic stunning the monster, this creature had remained unaffected. To continue using a strategy that didn¡¯t work was a guaranteed death, but he was stumped by the question of how to proceed. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! It flew around him, darting in regularly to slice him up, as he conserved his magic. Each pass left another scratch on his body and in a war of attrition he had minutes of dilated time at most, and well less than a minute of real time. Tom realised that this was becoming a slaughter. He wasn¡¯t even getting close to defeating it. His mind cycled through options. Spark wasn¡¯t working. His physical body was too slow to land a blow. What then? While he could imagine April throwing him into an unwinnable battle to prove her point, it was not her standard m.o. Whenever he died, she would critique the fight and explain how he could have succeeded, how he could have won even with his current body and talent limitations - if not immediately, then shortly after. There had to be a path to win here. Power Strike would not be useful even if he had of already gained it. Spear Mastery was no better, as it did not give him speed. Living Wood was not a real time option. Precognition would just tell him that he was about to die, and healing was only a stopgap measure. None of them had a depth that could save him. That left Spark, the ability that many people rejected, but one he had proven thousands of times before to have incredible depths and flexibility. The question was, how to shape it to let him survive? Direct attacks had failed completely. Was there a way to concentrate the power? No, that second hit had been intense for a creature that size, and it had been brushed off easily. More of the same was not the answer, which meant he had to find an indirect avenue to defeat it. Its next sweeping attack sliced a cut into his forehead. He healed it immediately to avoid the blood leaking into his eyes. It came back and struck the same spot. Tom mentally cursed his instinctive reaction to heal the wound. The damn thing was learning where he was vulnerable, and the speed with which he had healed that specific injury while ignoring the others had obviously triggered something in its tiny brain. Now it identified his forehead as a vulnerability. Worse, it was right. Too much bleeding there, and he wouldn¡¯t be able to see. Even if every cut only leaked a single drop of blood, that would soon cause blood to drip into his eyes. A third slice had opened up. The monster was obsessed with repeatedly hitting the recognised weakness. But the threat was an opportunity. It was targeting the same spot. Which meant he could predict its flight patterns. A high-risk strategy occurred to him, and he started to spin the spear to get it into position at the right time. It was coming at him. His outer sensing layer identified where the attack began, and from there, with a known target of his forehead, it was easy to plot the path it was going to take. Throwing caution to the wind, he engaged Spark, forcing most of his available mana through it. A series of intense explosions erupted in the air, painting a line between him and the creature. As it flew, it was buffeted with the wave of pressure released by each of the pinprick detonations. There was a whole string of them, each of them placed immediately in front of the monster. The unexpected wind worked, and, while a direct hit had failed to slow it even slightly the indirect, intense, repeated blasts were effective. It slowed. It slowed dramatically right within range of his weapon. For the first time in the battle, his spear tip was moving faster than it was. The monster was clever. It realised the problem. It tried to dive sideways, but Tom was able to compensate as it did so. His sped-up thoughts let him react when usually he would have been incapable. A series of explosions held it to its spot. His muscles strained to keep the weapon on target. It was like trying to cut an erratically fluttering fly out of the air, but he was a spear master, and he demanded his body not to fail him. The spear slashed through the creature, and it exploded as its inner core was pierced. Danger Sense stopped its warning, and time flow crashed back to its normal pace. The leaves waved like usual, and he staggered and fell, unbalanced by the desperate slash. He felt woozy. He hadn¡¯t realised how injured he was. Once more, he was bleeding profusely. ¡°April,¡± he yelled out weakly while he simultaneously used his advanced spells in tandem to restore his blood volume while healing the deepest cuts. There was only a little mana, but it was sufficient to patch the worst of them up. ¡°April, please. Help me, please.¡± The world shifted, and he found himself back in the caf¨¦ with his wounds healed. ¡°You know I can¡¯t bring you back straight away when you¡¯re injured. You have to show that you¡¯re going to survive first.¡± She told him before he could complain. ¡°Once you had passed that threshold, I was able to spare you the ten minutes of you drifting in and out of consciousness as you fixed the final bits. Well done.¡± She finished, sounding surprisingly unenthusiastic for herself. Tom patted down his fully restored body. That had been close, but he remembered how much time had slowed during the fighting. ¡°It worked,¡± he declared in excitement. ¡°And better than expected, too. The time dilation it gave was amazing. And I can¡¯t believe you made it immune to Spark.¡± April remained unimpressed. ¡°Yes, it was a bad matchup for you, and I picked it deliberately.¡± He grinned. ¡°I noticed.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m glad you won.¡± ¡°So am I. It¡¯s a relief. I can handle Speedies, and, once I get Power Strike, I¡¯ll be able to dispose of the larger enemies as well.¡± ¡°I hadn¡¯t finished.¡± April continued frostily. ¡°It was a worse matchup, but it was only rank-two. It was close to rank-three, but it wasn¡¯t there yet.¡± Tom stared at her blankly. He remembered how helpless he had been in his fight before he had worked out his Hail Mary strategy, and even with it he had only barely won. If it had twisted more to avoid his weapon, if he had slightly less mana in the end, if it had possessed one minor burst ability to avoid the spear, he knew he would have lost. But she couldn¡¯t be serious about its rank. He had only just won. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t hear that. What did you say?¡± She arched an eyebrow and said nothing. ¡°No, it couldn¡¯t be. It was too fast for that. It wasn¡¯t rank-two. There¡¯s no way.¡± But April was not lying, and if what she was saying was true, then maybe there was truly no way for him to get good enough to get into the divine champion¡¯s trial. ¡°Don¡¯t overreact. I have an idea to bridge the gap. But with the abilities you have at the moment.. Nope, they won¡¯t get you there.¡± Chapter 66 – Obvious Solutions ¡°It was rank-two.¡± Tom said. ¡°Fine. It was only rank-two. I accept that. But - so what? You can¡¯t deny that the explosion trick worked, and it was the first time I¡¯ve ever attempted something like that. It being effective is significant. I can ramp that up. I can make it stronger, and that will solve the problem. There¡¯s no need for big changes.¡± ¡°No,¡± April interrupted. ¡°Even if you practice that strategy and create a new spell to implement it, I don¡¯t think it will be enough. This time, if it was ten percent heavier or quicker, you wouldn¡¯t have been able to pin it. If you make a new spell, even a tier higher, that¡¯s only going to help you against similar enemies. If you come up against one that¡¯s significantly larger or faster, your pseudo-force spell won¡¯t do a thing. You definitely won¡¯t be able to amp it up enough to freeze a peak rank-four.¡± ¡°Will it really not work? Not even if I optimise it?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Sorry, the gap¡¯s too wide.¡± ¡°But that trait was almost exactly what we decided I needed.¡± ¡°Not exactly.¡± She disagreed. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, this is a great trait for what you¡¯re planning. It¡¯ll activate against almost every opponent you¡¯re going to battle for the next decade, which means it¡¯s an amazing combat upgrade. That¡¯s absolutely incredible. But you¡¯ve still got a problem with faster creatures who are immune to your lightning stun. You haven¡¯t closed that gap in your abilities.¡± ¡°But how many monsters out there could be immune? What that sideways evolution grants Spark is extraordinary. I¡¯ve never seen anything so powerful in a low-tiered ability. The stun ignores all resistances. It doesn¡¯t matter if a monster¡¯s magic resistance is a hundred percent, I can still stun it.¡± She winced sympathetically. ¡°Your logic is a little faulty. For example, did your spell stun the air condensate?¡± Tom shook his head and grimaced. ¡°No, but it should have. I don¡¯t know why it didn¡¯t. Was the description I received for Spark wrong?¡± ¡°No, nothing like that. You just don¡¯t have the knowledge to interpret the terms properly. The sideways evolution you got is really good. Absolutely devastating against what I¡¯d call the biological standard blueprint, even. And that¡¯s not a small advantage, it¡¯s a huge one. Seventy percent of what you¡¯ll face is biological standard, and even more on the surface. But just like it¡¯s deadly against them, the functionality is useless against elementals, silicons, madagas and chemicos. It doesn¡¯t help against them at all.¡± ¡°What the hell are those?¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t exist on earth, so English doesn¡¯t have the specialised words I need, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve fought all four body types in the tutorial. Basically, biological standard is everything that uses nerves to convey information from the thinking centre to locomotion appendages. Spark can stun all of them. But not all creatures out there have that body plan. Elementals are energy given intelligence. They don¡¯t have nerves or muscles or anything like that. Silicones are organisms that have silicon as their elemental base instead of carbon. They are susceptible to your new spell, but only partially so. Silicones evolve on elementally heavier worlds. That means metals are more abundant, and they tend to incorporate alloys in their exoskeletons and in the inlays through their body. Your stun will struggle to impact them because of how conductive their outer layer is, and because of those internal pathways. Madages are like the chosen you¡¯ve met, and they use magic exclusively within themselves. Electricity can have literally no impact whatsoever. Finally, Chemicos are in the same boat, but use hormones, for lack of a better word, to control themselves, which, again, means Spark has nothing to effect.¡± Tom wrinkled his nose at that last description. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t a nervous system reliant on chemicals be really slow?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but ask, even knowing it was a pointless question. But it would buy him time to understand all of what she had just said. The creature features she had listed were not completely unknown to Tom. He had never named or really thought too hard about them, but he had fought all four types of monsters in the tutorial. He should have realised about the weakness of electricity against those body plans and used fate to focus the ability on extra damage rather than stunning. ¡°Not with their internal physics.¡± April answered his throwaway question, even though she was savvy enough to have determined the purpose of him asking it. ¡°With what you¡¯re used to from Earth, yes, it¡¯ll be a ridiculous biological body plan. Way too slow. But part of the coming of integration into Existentia includes normalising the creatures bodies with the new reality. Usually that¡¯s done by keeping the physical laws within their body consistent with their home universe¡¯s physics.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ So does that mean when my spear enters something, the physics it¡¯s subjected to is different?¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°For a single atomic length thick layer at the edge of the weapon, yes. The physics vary, but mostly it makes no difference. Wounds, on the other hand, are impacted. You must have noticed, when you fought some monster types, that they would bleed faster or slower than you expected.¡± ¡°I just assumed it was the pressure and viscosity of their blood.¡± She laughed at that. ¡°In a way, you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°Wait, let¡¯s not get distracted. You¡¯re telling me my new trait doesn¡¯t solve the main issue I¡¯m facing?¡± ¡°Not by itself.¡± She handed him a clipboard. ¡°Like I said at the start, I have a solution. You need something extra to close the gap.¡± He glanced down at the skill she was recommending. Skill: Instant Strike ¨C Tier 1 Instantly strike an opponent passing within a thirty-degree cone of the reach of a spear thrust. The attack will be ninety percent as strong as your base attack with a plain tier zero weapon. Modifiers from the spear you are currently using are not applied, even if the description indicates they are compatible with skills. After the strike, your body¡¯s effective attributes will be instantly reduced by 80%, a reduction which will recover linearly over 2.4 seconds. Tom swallowed while he absorbed the details of the proposal and then looked up at April with a look of disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s a shit ability.¡± He said finally. ¡°Yet it would have allowed you to kill the air condensate effortlessly.¡± He reread the ability. Yes, her claim was, of course accurate. But the debuff it inflicted after use was crippling and that was without mentioning the reduced damage it gave and the huge limitation on when it could be used. In almost all cases, it would be infinitely better for him to attack normally. ¡°This is unusable in most fights.¡± ¡°Well, yes. This is a niche skill. It¡¯s trash, but like many trash abilities, it can be useful when used appropriately. This will close the gap against quick monsters, Power Strike would help against the behemoths, and the rest of your skills would allow you to defeat the rest. I think with this you¡¯ll probably reach the level you want to.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°But if I use this and fail, I¡¯m dead. Two seconds with that debuff active would almost always be lethal.¡± ¡°In the cases when you¡¯d be forced to use this, if you didn¡¯t have it, you¡¯d have lost already. This is not an ability to use regularly. It has a niche application to allow you to hit something that you otherwise wouldn¡¯t be able to. It¡¯s a last gasp, pull-a-trick-out-of-your ass type of manoeuvre that you seem to enjoy having. Plus, it¡¯s a prerequisite for some of the better, higher-tier skills. Things like multi weapons or phantom stealth ¨C and, believe me, they aren¡¯t trash.¡± Tom looked up sharply at that comment. She smiled. ¡°See,¡± she waved her hand and new writing appeared on the clipboard below the description of Instant Strike. Skill: Phantom Stealth Strike ¨C Tier 5 Create an instant spear thrust within three metres of you that stacks only the beneficial modifiers. Tom read it. While it was obviously better than Instant Strike, it did not seem significantly more powerful. Not having the negative debuff was useful, but hardly worth four tiers. April chuckled. ¡°I can almost see the gears turning.¡± Then she pointed at him with a triumphal grin. ¡°And there it is the realisation of what that description actually implies. It¡¯s much better on reflection than at first glance, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°How often could you use this?¡± Tom asked almost reverentially. ¡°If you¡¯re not using any other spear skills, then once or twice a second.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m not jumping to silly conclusions when I say it really ignores all debuffs? I could be paralysed, and I can still attack with this?¡± She grinned. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what it says. Only beneficial modifiers apply to it. No debuffs, all damage enhancement buffs, and you can use it to strike anywhere you want. Unless they¡¯ve got an opposing ability, you¡¯re guaranteed to land a blow on a monster¡¯s weak spot or an existing wound. Poke out their eyes one after another.¡± Tom whistled as he imagined just what that could do in a duel. ¡°That¡¯s seems more powerful than it should be at tier-five. At least, when compared to Instant Strike.¡± ¡°The fifty percent boost per tier is a guidance, not a hard rule. Plus, Instant Strike is trash level. This is peak, and that explains the full extent of the differences you¡¯re seeing.¡± Tom reread the simple spell description and considered some of the usages that April had suggested. ¡°Is this something I could get before I turn fifteen?¡± ¡°With your talent, yes. You¡¯d have to drop everything else you were focusing on, but you could do it.¡± He nodded at the unspoken implication in her words. As fun as that ability was, there were clearly better areas for him to be developing along. Phantom Strike, despite its power in some fights, was flashy and niche. Against a swarm of monsters, which he was going to face often, it only provided a minor benefit. Until he established proper fundamentals, it was not something to pursue. He glanced down at the skill she was suggesting he focused on. April had proven the accuracy of her advice more than enough, and he could see her logic. Even if he disagreed or couldn¡¯t understand the reason, he would still do as she suggested. ¡°Let¡¯s do it next,¡± he told her. The trial administrator nodded. ¡°Definitely, but there¡¯s a but.¡± ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s always a but,¡± Tom complained. ¡°Because nothing is ever for free. If you want it ready by the time you finish Power Strike, then¡­ you know what I¡¯m going to say.¡± Tom groaned and covered his eyes with his hands. ¡°More crafting?¡± ¡°More crafting,¡± she agreed cheerily. Suddenly there were a hundred empty bands on the table, waiting for him to get to work. ¡°How many more do I need to do?¡± ¡°I would rather not discourage you so¡­¡± ¡°April,¡± he said warningly. ¡°Far more than you¡¯ll be happy with, but I don¡¯t think we have a choice.¡± With a sigh, he went back to crafting. Three weeks later, he was in the trial once more, practicing striking the dummy with the fragile ceramic spear. He could feel the use of his skill with each thrust. The effect had become so pronounced that April was only allowing him forty thrusts per session as opposed to the thousand plus he had been allowed to do initially. Even with the restriction, he was leaving the sessions mentally drained and on the edge of skill exhaustion. It was so close. ¡°Invest your fate.¡± April ordered. He startled slightly, but beyond that did not react. ¡°Any hints?¡± There was a long pause. ¡°Is there a specific direction you want to develop it in?¡± Tom considered that question. It was one he had given prior thought to. Any bonus he added would be most effective if it aligned with the nature of the skill. Durability was out, because Living Wood was already giving him a massive advantage in that space. Any wooden weapon was already going to be continuously reinforced and repaired. With that discounted, and the need to align with the nature of the ability taken into account, he only had two choices. Would it be best to boost the physical penetration ability or the magical shield piercing? He guessed the best choice was obvious. Carefully, he constructed the image in his head, then released his full fate pool. The weapon felt firm in his hand. The dummy was facing him. It was a construct that had been upgraded multiple times since his first day facing it. To be honest, it seemed that, every time the target had improved the spears he had to use against it, had deteriorated by a similar amount. Today¡¯s spears were the worst ones yet. They had the same initial hollow ceramic design, but it now had large holes along the shaft. While the first designs had broken easily when it struck the dummy, these newest ones, on Tom¡¯s estimate, were at least ten times more fragile. Their brittleness was beyond ridiculous, and despite the care he took when picking them up, they occasionally broke. He triggered the half-formed skill and layered its components. The reinforcement that, for the first few weeks had only been on the surface, now extended to the centre. Nothing else would stop it from breaking. Then he shaped the idea of sharpness and penetration along with a slight repulsive force to the surface beyond the cutting edge to prevent flesh from gripping onto it and slowing the momentum, and then finally an extra vibrating force to pierce magical shields. Given his experience with constructing magical shields, he had a good understanding of the theory, including the use of opposite and destructive overlapping frequencies of energy to allow a single attack to have more impact. A dynamic shield-breaking technique was superior to one that relied only on blunt force, so he used precognition ability to mimic that effect. Practically, Tom¡¯s skill created random vibrating frequencies to break the magic shields, but with his precognition affinity bearing down at the same time, that randomness became a directed scalpel. He thrust forward. A blue sheaf of energy covered his spear, then briefly flashed red as it impacted the white magic barrier that surrounded the dummy. The barrier failed, and then the spear tip went through the hardened tier-one leather covering the mock torso as though it were a sponge, with the tip penetrating a full inch into the target. There was a ding. Tom carefully pulled the weapon back. Given the nature of its construction, the fact it was still intact was miraculous. ¡°Again.¡± April ordered. The dummy was restored, this time with the shield being coloured a pearlescent pink. He struck it again, and, once more, the blue changed colour to dark grey. The new shield split apart almost without resisting, and his spear punched deep into the dummy once more. The combat effectiveness of Power Strike, even his half-formed version, was impressive. His spear, especially this nearly-broken ceramic one, usually wouldn¡¯t be able to pierce the higher tier material cladding the dummy, even without the shielding. But the dedicated combat skill allowed it to do so easily. It was a massive combat enhancer. He kept the routine up. Pull back and thrust against a different coloured shield. Every time, the colours of the magic defence changed, and his spear seemed to adjust to counter, and then the barrier shattered on contact. A headache was forming and then, while he was striking a bright orange shield with a white-hot looking weapon, there was a ding. He sagged slightly, then stood up and prepared to keep going, but the world blurred, and he was back in the caf¨¦. Quietly, April handed him a clipboard. Skill: Magic Breaking Power Strike - Tier 1 This advanced skill, in addition to the standard boost to sharpness and weapon durability, also allows the infusion of a single point of precognition affinity mana to enhance the ability to pierce magical shields. Exact benefits can¡¯t be quantified, as it depends on the construction method of the magical shields, but the magic effect is, at a minimum a 100% stronger than the base ability, and, for poorly constructed magical defences the benefit can exceed 1,000%. Tom smiled as he read the description of the new skill. His spears would now be able to hurt everything at the rank-four level. Once he mastered Instant Strike, he would get access to the divine trial. He could already taste his coming success. Chapter 67.1 – Wador Truth Tom stared at the description of his new Power Strike ability for a moment longer before looking up at April. He scratched his head. ¡°It¡¯s tier-one.¡± He pointed out. ¡°I thought what I was creating was supposed to be a trash tier-zero.¡± She shrugged. ¡°That was the second ding. You got the trash version, then pushed it up immediately to a new level.¡± ¡°Was that because I¡¯m brilliant? ¡°Maybe it was because your teacher was,¡± she grinned. ¡°The credit¡¯s definitely not yours. It¡¯s all me. But in all honesty, it¡¯s not that uncommon for reincarnators, and that includes ones that self-developed before my time, to get these types of jumps. You all have additional insights from the past lives you¡¯re drawing on to create a point of difference. When I do these training courses, that extra knowledge appears to materially increase the likelihood of a secondary advancement. And of course, that cheat code you have with fate use brings more than a small benefit. I know the other species got bonuses, but your unrestricted fate application is broken.¡± ¡°Wait just a moment. What did you just say? Did you just say that the other species get bonuses?¡± ¡°Yes, everything is fair. Humans don¡¯t have their fate ability restricted during the competition. The other species got similar benefits for the same period.¡± ¡°Do we know what they are?¡± ¡°Well, my information is out of date, and is more of an educated guess than a fact. I assume that humans have confirmed some of this in the meantime. But I can tell you what was known fifteen years ago.¡± ¡°What were their bonuses?¡± ¡°When it comes to the dragons, they¡¯re not sure. They think it¡¯s something like a doubling of the effectiveness of their attributes. Insects have an insane starting growth. They basically get gifted class levels to promote them to rank-thirty.¡± ¡°That¡¯s significant.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why they¡¯re such a threat to native populations. They¡¯re too weak to threaten native powerhouses.¡± She frowned. ¡°But the general population is more exposed. They¡¯re deadly now, but after the competition they¡¯re going to be vulnerable, and everyone is going to hate them. I suspect they¡¯ll be wiped out quickly once competition restrictions are relaxed. But that knowledge is cold comfort, I imagine, and doesn¡¯t help you for the duration of the competition.¡± ¡°And the others?¡± ¡°The inventor¡¯s gift is crafting-related. It probably increases the tier of what they¡¯ve created; as for the chosen, we don¡¯t know. The giants have a stealth ability. The reason why their GOD chose that is a mystery, but that¡¯s what they¡¯ve got.¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°I¡¯ve seen that in use. The giant I¡¯ve met was invisible when it wanted to be.¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s extraordinarily potent. There is something terrifying about ten-plus meter-tall monsters appearing out of nowhere.¡± ¡°Yes, I can confirm that firsthand.¡± Tom said wryly, remembering the two times the giant had appeared in stealth. ¡°And the wador can reset their build at will.¡± ¡°What?¡± Tom asked in shock. ¡°What did you say?¡± ¡°That they can reset their build. Get a refund from their experience shop for all the skills, classes, levels, spells, and traits they¡¯ve purchased, and then re-buy what they want.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I didn¡¯t know.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t as broken as you might think it is. They can only do it so often. Our experts think it¡¯s restricted to once every two or three years at most. Even then, it¡¯s not like they become instantly proficient in their new setup. They still need to get used to their skills and rebuild the levels of their abilities. However, as a get out of shit trump card, it¡¯s powerful. Also good for tweaking your build after getting a lucky loot drop. In the right circumstances, yeah, it¡¯s almost as good as your fate abilities.¡± Tom remembered that blind wador and what he had said. ¡®Humans are not the only ones capable of planning, and the wador are infinitely adaptable.¡¯ Tom had assumed that it was only sprouting pointless rhetoric like people he had heard who had claimed that ¡®humans had heart, and so would never be defeated.¡¯ That had been his assumption, but maybe there was truth in what the wador had said. ¡®The wador are infinitely adaptable.¡¯ He had dismissed that statement and then been shocked when all of his abilities had been perfectly countered by the enemy. He hadn¡¯t understood the warning the wador had sportingly given him. He hadn¡¯t known ¨C hell, the humans hadn¡¯t known, and therefore, maybe, it hadn¡¯t been his fault. ¡°Oh, fuck!¡± He exclaimed, thinking about all that time he had spent blaming himself. Humans, as a species, hadn¡¯t known about that capability. ¡°What¡¯s happening? Why are you looking so green? Oh, this is about the wador - the one that killed you?¡± Tom massaged his forehead as the enormity of this revelation hit him fully. How could he possibly win against someone who could counter him perfectly? He had been living in this new life for over a year, and he had been blaming himself for his own death the whole time. But how could he be responsible if the wador had changed their whole build to counter him? The answer was that he couldn¡¯t be. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± he said with an anguished voice. ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t, but I thought you knew. When you told me the story and made a point of¡­¡± ¡°Did you really?¡± He snapped. April was more perceptive than that. ¡°Did you really think I knew? From what I said? From what I confessed?¡± ¡°Um¡­ No, but your emotions regarding the events felt stable.¡± ¡°I blamed myself. I thought I was responsible.¡± ¡°Really? Well, sure¡­ I know you felt responsible, but only a little, right?¡± ¡°No! I felt like I had screwed up, that it was all my fault.¡± ¡°But why would you conclude that? People die in fights.¡± ¡°I felt my death was all my fault.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t realise.¡± This time, he believed her. She looked uncertain and worried. ¡°What exactly do you mean by expressing it like that?¡± ¡°What the fucked-up type of question is that? I meant everything I said. All of it. It was all my fault.¡± ¡°But I know you. We¡¯ve had hundreds of hours of conversation. Based on the story you told me, it doesn¡¯t make sense that you blamed yourself to that extent.¡± ¡°It¡¯s how I feel.¡± Tom slapped his chest hard. ¡°In here. I knew I was responsible.¡± ¡°The missing memories,¡± April guessed finally. ¡°The certainty has to have come from them.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tom agreed grimly. ¡°But I can tell you I didn¡¯t know about this ability of the wador, and now that I do, it changes everything.¡± ¡°Does it really?¡± ¡°Yes. I wasn¡¯t at fault. This shame I felt was unnecessary.¡± ¡°But was your guilt really driving anything?¡± Chapter 67.2 – Wador Truth He froze as he considered that question. She had a point. He was training as he was for those who were unable to save themselves. When he willingly took risks on the obstacle course, his thoughts weren¡¯t about making amends ¨C they were mainly about Emily and the others who were victims of this insane competition. Not just the people he knew, but the loved ones of those who had fought and had already made the ultimate sacrifice. Thor, Sven, and Michael, to name a few. He had to strive for those they loved as well. It was about more than him. It was about all that was good in the world. ¡°No; it changes nothing.¡± He admitted. ¡°But, good lord, all that guilt, and ultimately there was nothing I could have done to change anything.¡± ¡°I feel for you.¡± April said her voice cracking slightly. ¡°I do, and I¡¯m glad this conversation can lift your undeserved guilt. I wish I had mentioned something earlier.¡± She sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t realise how much the idea was eating at you. I¡¯m sorry. I should have said something sooner. Please, forgive me.¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°No. There¡¯s no need. I understand.¡± Then he glanced at his clipboard and back up at April. He didn¡¯t want to think about what had just been revealed. A year of blaming himself had been proven in a moment to have been wasted effort. He waved the clipboard at her. ¡°And is this version considered trash in comparison to other tier-one options?¡± She snorted at his blatant attempt to change the subject. ¡°No, it¡¯s a good one. Not peak, but a normal level. You can¡¯t see it in the description, but it¡¯s not just magic shield-breaking that¡¯s got a boost. It¡¯s all round better than what you had last life through Spear mastery.¡± ¡°What would something like this need, to get it pushed to peak?¡± ¡°A physical boost as well.¡± She seemed uninterested in the conversation. ¡°Don¡¯t bother trying, though. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll happen naturally. But, Tom, you can¡¯t run from your feelings.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not running. But they¡¯re not relevant to right now, are they? It feels like a great weight has been lifted from me.¡± ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± ¡°No. Absolutely not.¡± She considered his reaction for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re impossible, you know that.¡± She waved her hand, and the text on the clipboard he still held rearranged itself to display the Instant Strike skill instead of his version of Power Strike. ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t want to talk, then there¡¯s no time like the present to concentrate on advancing.¡± He grimaced. ¡°Great, so what does this skill training look like?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not going to be any more pleasant than anything else you¡¯ve done, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡± He frowned. ¡°Let me guess. More randomly subjecting me to pain and claiming it¡¯s the fastest way to teach me. Oh, my fluttering heart, be still.¡± ¡°Sarcasm duly noted. You do know you get mean when you¡¯re emotionally upset, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Fuck you, I don¡¯t.¡± She pretended to flinch backward, as though his outburst had scared her, and then cracked a smile. ¡°Grumpy pants.¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He couldn¡¯t help it, and laughed along with her. It was hard to keep an even keel after that kind of a revelation. ¡°But no, this won¡¯t be painful. However, it¡¯s probably going to be the worse yet.¡± He raised an eyebrow at that. The processes of gaining both his Living Wood and his Precognition skills had been horrible. ¡°Worse than what I¡¯ve already done?¡± ¡°Maybe. This training manual involves complete sensory deprivation and having you practise thousands of quick strikes.¡± It sounded very similar to what he had been forced to do for Power Strike. ¡°That can¡¯t be that bad.¡± ¡°I¡¯m talking about total sensory removal. Over time, I¡¯ll be disabling the nerves that give feedback from your arms, legs, back muscles, and, toward the end, all of you. You¡¯ll continue doing the strikes, but it¡¯ll be maddening,¡± she bit her lower lip. ¡°There are effective torture techniques that do less. Your only job will be to keep the strikes up. Just like with Power Strike, eventually you¡¯ll switch to using the skill for every blow. That¡¯s when the torture aspect gets reduced.¡± He wrinkled his nose as he attempted to imagine what she was describing. ¡°And that works?¡± ¡°Most people can¡¯t learn this way, not even with the aid of a dedicated trial like this one. I¡¯m gambling on your being a unique case. Fate, which is a ridiculous cheat, will help, but the main reason I¡¯m willing to try this is you. The speed with which you¡¯re acquiring skills¡­¡± she shook her head. ¡°If that was indicative of your species, it would have been terrifying for the whole of Existentia. Luckily, you¡¯re a special cookie with lots of asterixis against your name. The biggest of them is your precognition affinity. That¡¯s¡­ Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s great that you¡¯ve got that.¡± ¡°And if everyone else is doomed to fail, what¡¯re my chances?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t estimate it. The rest of the orphanage population, I might give them a ten percent chance.¡± ¡°And the cost of the attempt isn¡¯t refundable, is it?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not. But for most, I push them toward things that can be trained with more certainty. As for you, I think it¡¯s as high as seventy percent. If you haven¡¯t got it within three months, we¡¯ll call it a loss and move on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not investing three months then giving up. That¡¯s stupid.¡± April shook her head. ¡°Yes, you will. Your objection is just a sunk cost fallacy talking. After a month of training, the chance of getting the skill at any specific moment is at its maximum. After that, the likelihood declines steadily, until at the three-month point you¡¯ve got so little chance you might as well give up and focus your energy elsewhere. On this, you¡¯ll have to trust me. I¡¯m in charge of your training, and I¡¯m right. We¡¯re not debating this anymore.¡± She gave him a fake grin. ¡°Now, remember to practice your spear thrusts.¡± Suddenly, he found himself unable to see or hear. He could feel the spear in his hands and a firm floor under him, but that was all. ¡°Relax and practice spear attacks,¡± April said, sounding like she was well clear of him. ¡°And don¡¯t just do straight thrusts - you need to do different angles, including a downwards one. You won¡¯t hit the floor by accident.¡± He immediately tested that claim, and, sure enough, his spear cut through air below his feet. In the pure blackness, it gave him a moment of pure vertigo. He stumbled, didn¡¯t fall, and stabilised. Breathing heavily, he tapped the ground with the butt of his spear, and it was all there, solid and continuous. Tom swallowed and then did an experiment. He tapped a spot, then thrust the spear down into the hard ground. The weapon touched nothing, and, when he checked again; the floor was still there. He tested it again and confirmed that it was only when he made a thrust that the ground vanished. It was exactly like April had told him, but that didn¡¯t make it any less disconcerting. The effect was weird, but, confident of his safety, he got to work, doing exactly what April had told him to do. It was perturbing, not being able to see anything, but he stabbed the spear in multiple directions and angles. There were no sensory inputs - not even a light breeze on his skin when he moved, or the swish of the weapon through the air. The training felt as though he was in a dream, but he trusted in April¡¯s methods and continued striking out, despite the lack of tactile feedback. Between the thrusts, he used his magic to address the buildup of lactic acid. Chapter 67.3 – Wador Truth The trial session finished, and, in the real world, he kept up his usual routine. The trio had developed an obsession with the obstacle course. Briana continued to use the safety features, while he and Kang were recklessly indifferent to injury. All of them were way ahead of anyone else in their age groups in this aspect of physical development. They were getting times and completing courses that the kids two years older than them struggled with. Briana, despite her more careful approach, was included in that out-performance. Her talent for gymnastics was as pronounced her knack for water magic. Kang, who didn¡¯t have the benefit of the suppression ring, kept pace with her, occasionally getting ahead to spur her to greater heights, then slowing to let her beat him. Tom could clearly see that he was holding back. Meanwhile, with the help with the ring, he himself went as fast as he could, but he couldn¡¯t get close to matching their outputs. The electricity and gravity impairments were kept permanently active when training at twenty-five and thirty percent, respectively. It meant that his coordination was iffy, and his ability to leap reduced by about a third and those restrictions showed in his results. No matter how he pushed, he couldn¡¯t match the other two. After his latest run, the one that he had gotten ninety percent of the way through before falling, Tom sat on the ground, watching his friends. He was breathing hard and subtly manipulating his healing to ease some of the aches that had started to form. As always, Kang was reckless in his approach. Briana was dainty when navigating the obstacles, while the reincarnator was more bull-like. The contrast was amusing. One succeeded through balance, the other by extracting every bit of power out of their body that they could get away with. And the script was flipped, if compared to the natural order of things. Kang, with his experience, should have been the one relying on accuracy. The fact he resorted to power showed the cost of bad habits that the tutorial and its isolation could have caused. Kang was traversing some rings, kind of like monkey bars, but more difficult, because they were suspended from the ceiling on ropes. He was throwing caution to the wind the way he usually did, trying to skip each alternate ring and having to go airborne to do so. His fingers reached out, and the fingertips just brushed the ring he was aiming for. Suddenly, he was plunging toward the ground. Tom leapt to his feet with a curse. The monkey bars had been on the second-highest level, and there was equipment under where he was falling - wooden tilting boards, and these were far more dangerous to land on than the standard mats. Kang was cartwheeling through the air, out of control, but somehow he twisted and somewhat stabilised himself. He hit a tilt board and curled to deflect the force. He rolled instead of sticking, then bounced and skipped across the floor like an irregularly-shaped ball. It did not look safe. Tom was running over, hoping no damage had been done. He seemed to have successfully mitigated the irregular landing spot and redirected his momentum into a sideways motion, even if the subsequent rolling across the floor had been awkward. Based on what Tom had seen, he should have been safe, but you could never tell, and it had happened too fast for Tom¡¯s perception to follow easily. His friend didn¡¯t get up. Unlike the usual, he was just lying there. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Shit,¡± Tom cursed and leapt over the wooden tilt boards to reach him. The fall had looked innocuous, but alarm ran through Tom at the lack of movement. Already, he was planning out what to do. He would use his various diagnosis spells, including the half-working brain ones, and then triage whatever was critical to buy time to get to the healing crystal. Briana was dropping down from her obstacle course, and, between the two of them, they should be able to move him to the crystal. He slid in on his knees, his hands coming down to make physical contact in order to cast the spell, when he noticed the happy smile on the boy¡¯s face. Annoyance flared through Tom. ¡°Kang, don¡¯t scare us like that.¡± ¡°Is he okay?¡± Briana yelled. ¡°I think so.¡± Tom forced himself to pause, his heartbeat racing, and examined Kang critically. The other reincarnator lay there with a goofy grin and gave Tom a big thumbs up. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I took so long to follow your lead. That fall¡­ That was epic. I think the judges would give that at least a two.¡± He chuckled weakly. ¡°I knew GODs and trials could deliver notifications directly but I didn¡¯t know the system could.¡± That last comment told Tom that Kang had gotten an Earned Skill, and it had apparently displayed itself without needing the ritual screen. Possibly the deviation from normal was because the restrictions had to be communicated immediately. Reading between the lines. He had been awarded a tier-two falling skill and Tom wanted to whistle to express his admiration. That might even be better than the one he had gotten in his previous Existentia life. Probably not if it didn¡¯t have the fate generation component, though, because Tom had shown what a modest base with the help of evolution potions could be turned into. Still, if it was a tier-two Earned Skill, then who knew what juicy bonuses it might have built into it. ¡°Collision mitigation,¡± Kang muttered like he was reading Tom¡¯s mind. ¡°Works with any collision. If I wanted to Tank...¡± He shook his head. ¡°Damn, it would be amazing then. Still, it¡¯s great even for a general use. I don¡¯t have to worry as much about falls or incidental contact. If get I kicked or hit by a hammer, that¡¯d be treated the same as falling. Does nothing for blades, though, but I guess you can¡¯t have everything.¡± Kang lay there; then, apparently realising what he had said, he flushed, getting a red tint to his cheeks. Refusing to make eye contact, he carefully pulled himself to his feet and stumbled over to get healed. Tom got the sense it was more for show and to avoid embarrassment than for anything else. They went back to work. Internally, Tom found himself cursing the vagaries of chance. It sucked that Kang had beaten him to an earned skill, given that he had put weeks of effort into it before the other man had joined in. Then again, he was going for a more complicated version than the one that just mitigated collision damage, even if Kang¡¯s did sound awesome. Every time he fell, he carefully released a single point of fate, and it was rarely used to keep him safe. Occasionally, Tom directed it to reduce the impact of his fall, but usually it was aimed for a less defined outcome. Sometimes, it was sent to turn eyes away from him, other times to help him recover faster, or regain mana, to protect against a future unknown threat, or develop Instant Strike, and even to speed up his perfect casting of the Minor Earth Tremor spell. Basically, Tom selected whatever semi beneficial outcome he could think of while keeping it all random. The Earned Skill he wanted was the one where movement equalled fate generation and, from his past life, he knew it was possible. During the day, whenever he made a significant movement, he spent his fate randomly. Usually, it happened when he did a big dodge or suffered a big fall, but he was consistent as he could be with his attempts. Then, just before he fell asleep, he invested any spare fate he had left that concept of an Earned Skill that he envisaged. Intellectually, he understood that he was gambling, but it was an educated bet, and, given the size of the deficit in ranking points that he had to close, it was a wager he felt compelled to accept. It was going to take time, but the potential reward was worth the risk. At the end of the session, with all of them more than a little sore from their exertions despite the healing, they went to dinner. Chapter 68.1 – Heal Brain The days blended together, and then he was back in the trial. Specifically, back he was here. Tom grimaced as he looked around the cave that April had put him in. This was his seventh attempt, with the previous ones having all ended in failure. ¡°A little, but not too much.¡± He whispered to her. ¡°Remember, April, if there¡¯s too much brain damage, then I can¡¯t cast. I just need a little injury.¡± She did not respond to him, of course. They had already had this conversation, and there was only so much meddling she could do before her attempts to help started to hinder. The same natural-cut tunnel as before was leading down from where he stood. Tom procrastinated, because he knew what awaited him when he reached the bottom. This threat was April¡¯s solution to his challenge to create a scenario to facilitate a perfect and meaningful cast of Heal Brain. To do that, she needed something to hurt his brain, and the usual method of a mental attack was not available because he was immune to everything below tier-five, while anything above that was so powerful that it would kill him instantly. No, what waited for him was mechanical damage. The monsters were like giant insects that would try to attach themselves to his head and zombify him. They would kill parts of his brain and keep other sections intact. It was useful for what he needed, under the proviso that he managed to limit the time they had to turn him into a meat puppet. Give them long enough, anything more than two seconds, and the GOD¡¯s shield was going to be triggered. With faltering steps, he advanced down the corridor. There was a flicker of movement and he reacted, lashing out with his spear before it got too close. His weapon glowed blue with a hint of lilac as it connected with the creature springing at him. It sheared straight through the monster that resembled a stick insect the size of his forearm, with a proboscis as long as one of his fingers. Tom knew from experience exactly what that dedicated part of its anatomy was. Its job was to get into his brain and take control. He stamped on the larger half of the dead body. There was no need for the added violence, because it was already dead. Its physiology was similar to most things in that cutting it in half was, in fact, lethal. ¡°Calm, Tom, calm,¡± he whispered as he marshalled his breathing and pacified the feeling of revulsion that the mind eater¡¯s presence had caused. He had been expecting one of them, but not this soon. It was too early, and it worried him that April had changed the scenario up on him. Normally there would be no enemies for another twenty metres. He knew April was continually tweaking in the background, but she hadn¡¯t warned him of any change in this scenario, and this was a big tweak. With cautious steps, he proceeded forward. There was a rough patch on the natural cave wall, an area of deeper shadow that might have been concealing something. He poked it with his spear tip to ensure nothing was hiding in the space. There was no reaction, and he didn¡¯t think this particular type of brain-eating monster was capable of resisting its baser instincts. The area was clear. Another two steps, and he slowed down. He licked his lips. It had been too long since that last attack. It didn¡¯t match with the way April usually did things. The coarseness of the walls and overall lighting were getting worse and worse. There were more and more spots that something less than a size of a football could be hiding within. The sensing spell that he had manually created from Spark was, of course, active. But it could only find things that were moving. If they were just huddling there, if they remained still, he wasn¡¯t going to sense them until they attacked. He swallowed and slowed further down, then poked each of the suspicious patches of deep shadows. He pulled his spear back and saw a flicker of movement in the wider hole he had just disturbed. He leapt backwards instinctively as far as he could. Spear Mastery aided the process, subtly guiding his feet to better avoid stumbling on the rough ground, and ensured that his spear was back, yet ready to be thrust at anything that threatened him. Out of the hole, which had been at shin level on the wall, two monsters burst out. Like wolves, they coordinated, splitting up one going low and crossing the corridor to approach from his left, while the other scampered up the wall to the right, rapidly reaching head height. Bastards, he thought to himself. Amongst all the other tools they had, it was unfair that they coordinated as well as they did, but all of his other failed attempts had taught him to expect nothing less. Two, even if they were flanking him like this, were fine. He could take two at once. He was going to need to be quick and precise with each of his attacks, but he could do it without magic. It was doable. He could take them. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Danger Sense, which had been a threatening hum since April had deposited himself in the tunnel, spiked. Tom almost jumped, but turned the instinctive motion into retreating further away from them. A third and a fourth insect appeared. Tom recognised the setup. More were definitely coming. The first two, thankfully, didn¡¯t wait. They leapt to attack. The one on the ground was moving slightly faster than the one on the wall, so he destroyed the former first. Power Strike was making his weapon glow blue and ensured the effectiveness of the cut. Then he struck the other one on the wall with the butt of his spear, driving the wood into the centre of its body. There was a thud as the force went through to the wall that the insect was pinned against. When he pulled his weapon back, his enemy limply fell under gravity to smack onto the ground. Tom was not tricked, as he had fought these things before. It was not dead; instead it was probably no more than momentarily stunned. If he was lucky, he would get thirty seconds, but it could be as short as one. Unfortunately, there was no time to stab it to death, as the others were already approaching rapidly. The second wave had already grown to be five in total. With his brain racing, he retreated while wondering if it was even possible to kill this many, even if aided by magic. He didn¡¯t want to die again. He was almost running backwards with his spear lashing out in front of him to delay them as long as possible. They would catch him. It was a forgone conclusion. Despite their smaller size, he couldn¡¯t flee from them. They were too fast, far quicker than he was, and he was retreating not to escape, but to buy time and hopefully fool them into abandoning their pack mentality. One at a time, he could kill them quickly, but if they coordinated, he was dead. It wasn¡¯t working. When he stabbed at them, they just retreated and then the other side would close into the space where his spear wasn¡¯t. With a curse, Tom turned the tables on them. He stopped retreating, and the fight was on. Unfortunately, his aggression did not phase them the way he had hoped it would. Neither collectively nor individually was there any hesitation, and they attacked him as one. Spark, fuelled by precognition mana, arced out to shock them. It didn¡¯t go where he had targeted it; instead, the energy flowed unevenly, with more power being redirected to his weak side and less to the ones he had decided to target with his spear. Tom put it out of his mind and went deep into his battle training. In a trance, he went through the spear forms with a terrifying speed and precision. These monsters were susceptible to being stunned, and that bought a moment and made them simple to target. The three creatures going for his head died. One of them, possibly smarter than the others, went for his waist. The move was so surprising that he had left himself wide open. All he could do was twist to push a hip at it to stop it from striking his more vulnerable stomach. There was a sharp pain as it plunged its proboscis into him. It was too far away from his brain to impact him directly, but having a living, moveable, sucking dagger penetrate him still hurt, and, before it could run up his torso, he moved to seize the insect monster with his hand. His reaction was only just fast enough, as, moments before his grasping fingers arrived, it had withdrawn its proboscis and had started to move upwards. Tom seized it around its undefended torso, then instinctively pushed it down and away from his vulnerable head. It reacted by lashing out. This time, its proboscis dug into his upper leg, and he was certain it broke his femur. Only a small fraction of his brain focused on negating that issue. The majority of his attention was on the two brain eaters who were still alive and coming for him. One-handed, he met them. With the spear as his main weapon, it was awkward, but it was something he had already trained for. In Existentia, you never knew when you might lose a limb. Even with one hand, courtesy of a deft use of Spark and two quick stabs he was able to eliminate them easily. There was still the issue held in his hand, but the wave had been dealt with. He had done it. The whole thing felt anticlimactic. Defeating seven creatures in quick succession was not supposed to be that uneventful. Yes, he had been hurt, but a single hip wound was nothing. Danger Sense went up multiple decibels. He had forgotten that these things were swarm-minded. It was not over, because they were smarter than that, and they were happy for all but one of them to die, providing they got their target. Too late for it to matter, he recognised the likely additional avenue of attack and attempted to look up. Something smashed into the back of his head. There was instant pain, but he didn¡¯t let that stop him. The spear was unwieldy at the best of times, but with only a single hand directing the weapon, it was horrifyingly slow. The pain in his head intensified, and, from experience, he knew what was coming. He had one chance, and he didn¡¯t want to fail. He didn¡¯t want to die pointlessly again, and, no matter what they said, a GOD¡¯s shield left psychological scars even when it worked. The spear spun, glowing with Power Strike and struck the creature and only just in time. He could feel the rising numbness, and the fingers of the hand that held the spear spasmed and released it. His whole body reacted similarly, with only one exception. The hand holding the creature that had attacked his hip was reinforced with magic. Those were unaffected by the loss of nerves ordering actions, because his magic had long since supplemented them. That hand remained firmly locked on the monster, even if what the other one had done to his head meant he couldn¡¯t feel it anymore. Pain as a concept had been purged, as had his ability to balance. His body crashed into the ground, but Tom didn¡¯t care. His brain had suffered potentially lethal injuries, but was still functioning. He could still think. Usually by this stage it was over, but this time he had a chance. His best yet. He formed the spell as precisely as he could, and only paused to spend fate with a focus on getting a useful brain sideways evolution. He wanted something to ensure that, even if his brain was injured, his consciousness wouldn¡¯t be impacted. With the fate invested and the spell form as perfect as he could make it, he cast it, and hoped that his eight points of unattributed mana and ten of precognition was sufficient to fix the open wound in his head. If he had Touch Heal already, eighteen points would have been more than enough, but he wasn¡¯t sure how inefficient Heal Brain was. There was an immediate ding. Chapter 68.2 – Heal Brain He hoped it signified outrageous success like it happened with what he had done with his heart, but there was no time to think about it. He could feel pain again, and his limbs were once more back under his control. There was no time to indulge in his mini-victory, because the fight was not over. His hip ached, and, without assessing it magically, he could feel the torn skin and broken bones. His hand still had the creature trapped within it, but, judging by the way it was twisting and struggling to escape, it was only a matter of time until it got free. He snatched one of the knives that was always sheathed at his chest and stabbed down recklessly -once, twice, three times, and then a fourth and a fifth. His second attack nicked his own finger, but he didn¡¯t care. A point of mana closed that wound, and he kept stabbing until the monster was dead. Then, once it was taken care of, his attention turned back to the one he had stunned by crushing it between his spear and the wall. When he checked it out, it was starting to twitch. It hadn¡¯t recovered enough to move yet, but that was only a matter of time. He stretched out to retrieve his weapon, then he pushed himself to his feet, using it as a crutch. Forced to use only one leg because the side that had been proboscised was not functional, he stumbled toward the final monster to kill it. Three painful steps got him was close enough. The spear tip pressed against its central body. It flared blue and then punched through the monster as though it was butter. He immediately sagged in relief. The pain had been interfering with his thinking process. ¡°April, some help.¡± He called out, knowing that none of the injuries he had suffered were lethal and all the enemies were dead or disabled. A moment later, he was in the caf¨¦, and the pain was a memory. He took a sip of too hot coffee and shuddered. ¡°I hate those things. Too fast, crawly, and, if you make one minor mistake, you¡¯re dead. I hate mind eaters.¡± ¡°Them being mind eaters is not the problem.¡± April told him. ¡°You¡¯ve only struggled because they were rank seven. Even if it was a ridiculously, and I do mean ridiculously favourable match up, beating multiple monsters six times your rank is incredible. However, most people have a horrible time against them. In addition to what you saw, they have a potent debilitating mind attack that stuns most opponents, especially other monsters. You were lucky in that you could straight-out ignore that. Those things can take out enemies twice their rank. But, for what we needed, they were an effective catalyst, even if a creepy one.¡± ¡°Were they?¡± he asked hopefully, while waving at the familiar clipboard. ¡°I¡¯m confident I got the spell Heal Brain. But did I get a bonus?¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. She frowned and handed the clipboard over. ¡°No, not this time.¡± ¡°Damn it. I was so sure, with all the preparations...¡± ¡°You got the sideways evolution with your heart. It¡¯s not going to happen every time.¡± ¡°True. I was hoping for something similar for my brain. I want to be able to take a head injury and keep going.¡± She made a funny face. ¡°Keep your craziness up, and maybe you¡¯ll find another way to get that. Personally, I¡¯m just happy that I no longer have to set you up to almost die.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not over yet. I still need Heal Organs, and then Touch Heal.¡± ¡°A standard fight should be enough for both of them. What was needed for brain and heart was at another level. It sucked.¡± ¡°Sucked, did it¡­ That¡¯s¡­ um¡­ ah.¡± ¡°Yes, it did,¡± she said defensively. ¡°Don¡¯t think for a moment that I enjoy doing this.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­ Well, I¡¯m the one suffering, so shouldn¡¯t I be the one complaining?¡± She laughed. ¡°True. Unless we take into account that you¡¯re a psycho masochist and your kink makes you enjoy this.¡± Tom¡¯s mouth opened in shocked surprise. ¡°No, I¡¯m not. It¡¯s¡­ No, it¡¯s not like that.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Wait a moment. You¡¯re teasing me.¡± She started laughing harder. ¡°If you want to believe that, Tom, I can¡¯t stop you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true. If the bonuses weren¡¯t so important, there is no way I would be doing this.¡± ¡°I know, Tom. Now, this topic is uncomfortable for me. But I don¡¯t make a habit of judging perverted biological instincts, so you don¡¯t need to worry.¡± ¡°April!¡± ¡°So, moving right along. I¡¯m assuming the plan is Heal Organs this session and Touch Heal next?¡± He hesitated, then decided that changing topics was a good idea. Continuing would just be digging the hole deeper. ¡°Tom, what stupidity are you considering?¡± He needed something to distract her, and there was one thing that he had been contemplating, but knew she would object to. ¡°I was considering,¡± he told her, ¡°Whether to even bother attempting to get Heal Organ today.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see why you wouldn¡¯t. You¡¯ve got another twenty-six hours here. Which will put you at full fate again. You might as well attempt it. It¡¯s not like you can do something this dangerous in the outside world, because you won¡¯t have a GOD¡¯s shield there.¡± ¡°I can,¡± Tom promised her, thinking about the array of poisons available in the hidden cupboards. ¡°I can absolutely cause multiple organ failure.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like you can do it safely.¡± April corrected herself. ¡°It¡¯s infinitely better to do it here.¡± Tom shook his head. While the idea had started as a distraction, the moment he had said it, it had felt right with a certainty he couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°No, I think doing it today is a waste of fate.¡± ¡°How will fate be wasted?¡± ¡°It¡¯s unlikely I¡¯ll naturally get a perfect cast the first time, and, if that¡¯s the case, all the invested fate will go toward that instead of a sideways evolution. I expect Heal Organ to be difficult. I¡¯ve never combined so many different spell forms together into a single evolution. If I delay, I¡¯ll have plenty of time to practice that process. Even if I¡¯m not meaningfully casting the spell, just recreating it a thousand times before going for real will help. My fate reserves are too valuable to waste on a probable failure, not to mention the attempt potentially costing a sideways evolution. No, today I¡¯ll use them to gain Instant Strike, as planned.¡± Chapter 69.1 – Isolation Room Shenanigans Tom entered the isolation room, reminiscing on his decision to defy April and on his refusal to gain Heal Organ at the end of the last trial. Usually, something like that would have been a mistake, but in this instance, it had been the right choice. Attempting a perfect cast of the spell then would have been the height of foolishness. His experience over the last half a day had proven that. Whenever his mana regenerated, he had practiced the process of blending all fifteen input spells into a single, unified whole. It did not go well. The first attempt all the way to the fifteenth had failed absolutely, but since then he had made some progress. The current merge that he had created barely resembled the sleek lines of the wire frames that he was aiming to duplicate, but the spell form was not falling apart, and, when he squinted, he could see a resemblance to what he was trying to create. It was impressive progress since the previous evening, when the result had been an unidentifiable mess that collapsed the instant he stopped exerting his will upon it. This spell form was almost certainly not what he was looking for, but it was stable and would heal his organs - or, at least, some of them. The moment the isolation room indicated that he was locked inside, Tom spun around, as he always did now, and studied everything to confirm his safety. There was nothing visible, and when he focused on Danger Sense, it didn¡¯t stir either. Having confirmed that there were no threats, he looked up at the secret cupboards with greedy eyes. Up there was the secret to mastering his latest spell. Even in something as apparently technical skill-based as manual spell casting, having the actions be meaningful and ensuring that they mattered made a difference. An hour here, where he had to use the magic to mend himself would be worth days, if not a week, of training in a sterilised environment. Leaning on his months of practice, he built the makeshift ladder up. It was more a pile for him to climb than anything. Then he gathered the cocktail of fifteen different poisons that he intended to use. With everything laid out in front of him and no reason to delay, he used ten fate with no purpose other than to keep him alive. It wouldn¡¯t help him to gain expertise, or to make it easier, or to increase his chances of success. All he wanted for it to do was to keep him alive, because he understood how dangerous what he was attempting really was. As far as he was concerned, it was a good investment. Once more, he studied what he had collected. Most of the gathered liquids and powders targeted singular organs, but some were more general in their use. This was definitely going to be enough to make his spell casting meaningful. He just needed to make sure that what he was administering would not be lethal despite the healing crystal. He had put this plan together over a couple of weeks of down moments in the isolation room. The dosage tables he had referenced had been clear on the deadly dosages, the time it would take for the healing crystal to purge them, and, of course, the known dangerous interactions. To the best of his research abilities, there shouldn¡¯t be any surprises. But he was still worried. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He had excluded too many substances due to interplays with other poisons that took the paring to something that was individually borderline lethal to a combined pair that was you ended up super dead in ten seconds-kind of lethal. While he was confident that he had split out all of those problematic internal reactions, he didn¡¯t know if there were any cases where interactions with three or four different substances compounded their individual effects like the known double combinations did. With a sigh, he spent another ten fate with the purpose of it keeping him alive. This time, he made it clear that any clumsiness on his part would be viewed as an external intervention that had just saved his life. He organised all the materials, taking care to separate out which ones from his notes required a full dose, and which other ones were only going to be quarter ones. The split was fifty-fifty, and he shifted them into two lines to make their status clear. The combined impact was enough to kill him ten times over, but, with the help of his fate investment and the healing crystal, he expected to survive. Tom got to work. Each dose was painstakingly measured and consumed on the spot. He made two mistakes, namely fumbling a liquid and accidentally spilling a fine blue powder. In both cases, he didn¡¯t reset, abandoning the liquid altogether and taking the reduced amount of powder. It was probably just because of his clumsy fingers, but, given the nature of his spent fate, he wasn¡¯t about to take foolish chances. Danger Sense was no help, either. It was a dull, angry roar in his mind, and had been at the same level since he stacked the poisons in front of him. Tom accepted the consequences of what he was drugging himself into. This was the price of the ambitious timetable he had set. By the time he consumed the last of them, his stomach was already cramping. He didn¡¯t wait an instant longer. He constructed the combined spell. It was an ugly mockery of what he was aiming for. But it existed, and he desperately infused it with mana to patch himself up. He lay next to the healing crystal, letting its power push into him to heal the consequences of what he had consumed. Every minute, he reformed the spell and used the five points of regenerated mana on the cascading failure of organs. There was nothing in the cocktail that affected the brain, so he was aware of everything that was happening to him ¨C of the vomit, the blood, and his bowels misfunctioning. It was beyond miserable, but, despite that, he never felt like his life was truly in danger. As the healing crystal mended him back together, the spell forms he was making looked more and more crisp. It was still going to be days until he could even contemplate a perfect cast, but the improvement was noticeable. A little over an hour later, he sighed and stood up shakily. His hand remained on the crystal as the latter fixed the last of the issues plaguing him. With a shuddering breath through his mouth, he stared down at the mess that covered the floor. Cleaning spells, even as powerful as the one that automatically triggered, were not fixing that problem up. With unsteady steps, he stumbled to the sink, took a sip of water, and spat it out. His mouth tasted awful. But, after rinsing it out three more times, he felt invigorated enough to get to work. He spent twenty minutes scooping the stuff off the floor and disposing of it down the toilet. Afterward, the room was left in a state that Tom was confident the cleaning spell could deal with. He sighed. It had been a painful process, but one during which he had seen real progress. Tomorrow, Tom knew, he was going to be repeating the effort, and he would probably do the same every day after until the trial. When he left the isolation room, it was to find a morose-looking Briana. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Tom asked immediately. She scowled. ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t get the magic breakthrough, did you?¡± Kang guessed. Briana refused to make eye contact with either of them. Kang frowned sympathetically. ¡°Maybe we can help.¡± He gestured toward an isolation room. She brightened slightly, and they went in and locked the door. Tom unobtrusively carried out his normal check. Nothing was lurking anywhere. Chapter 69.2 – Isolation Room Shenanigans Briana was doing the same process Tom was carrying out for Touch Heal, but for Water Manipulation. The current spell she was struggling with was the Heat Transfer step. ¡°You can practice and we can help,¡± Kang said brightly. ¡°Give you pointers and stuff.¡± ¡°But wait for tomorrow to make the final attempt,¡± Tom cautioned. ¡°Then you¡¯ll be able to give it a full boost.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not stupid,¡± she retorted immediately. Her fate pool was currently empty, and it hadn¡¯t been when she had left them to enter the isolation room initially. It was easy to conclude that she was already operating on the right principles, but Tom figured it was always best to be as clear as possible. ¡°Today, we¡¯re just going to help you refine the spell form.¡± Kang said quietly. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡± Patiently, they went on helping her for half an hour, splitting the magic practice with physical activity that descended into basically seeing how far they could parkour up the walls. With his ring active, Tom knew there was no way he could ever win. Kang¡¯s latest attempt nearly allowed him to touch the ceiling. Inside, Tom smiled. This was definitely an opportunity. ¡°Did you use Quick Step just then?¡± The other boy looked at him, shocked. ¡°No, why would you ask that? It doesn¡¯t work like that.¡± Tom glanced at where Briana was sitting. She was currently contemplating her magic and comparing it to a piece of paper. It was safe enough to talk; not that it mattered. This was not a conversation they had to hide from her. ¡°Still, it¡¯s a really useful skill. How did you learn it?¡± Kang glared at him like he had kicked the kid¡¯s puppy and looked significantly in Briana¡¯s direction. Tom successfully suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯ll hurt her to study it. How did you do it? It¡¯s a skill, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a skill. But, Tom, you probably won¡¯t be able to get it. I got lucky.¡± ¡°Tell me about the luck.¡± Kang¡¯s glare intensified. His eyes flickered once more toward Briana, who was looking away from them. The larger boy mimed zipping his lips shut. Tom frowned. Getting Quick Step was aligned with the aims of his eventual build, he just needed to convince Kang that telling him was worth the risk, and it wasn¡¯t like he could blab about his Danger Sense and his ability to spot the assassins in front of Briana. Whatever angle he went with, Kang was eventually going to have to trust him, or get with the times around the best way to protect his reincarnator status. Her hearing about the movement ability was fine. After all, it was one of Kang¡¯s official abilities, but he could tell he needed a different approach to persuade him. ¡°You know how I talk to the trial administrator.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing special. We all do.¡± Briana agreed not really paying attention to them. They both startled in reaction to her words and glanced in momentary shock at her. It was hard to believe, considering how focused she had been on her magic, that she had been listening in. Internally, Tom shrugged. If she was actively engaging in this conversation, that was probably for the best. He cleared his throat: ¡°Well, the trial administrator thinks I¡¯m gifted at creating skills.¡± That confession was a risk, he knew, but he figured that, if they asked, he would show them the Living Wood skill. ¡°About time that you¡¯re good at something.¡± Briana said, poking her tongue out at him. ¡°Hey,¡± Tom protested. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± He stopped arguing. From her point of view, he was usually the worst at the dodging and obstacle courses. He had been slow in developing magic, according to her, as he had never demonstrated his healing. Nor had he shown her any of the skills he had earned yet. ¡°I have magic.¡± He boasted, and made lightning crackle on his fingers. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Smirking, she flicked some water at him. He leapt desperately aside. She burst out laughing. ¡°I¡¯m not going to use razor water on you.¡± ¡°Then what was it?¡± he asked suspiciously, staring at the large wet stains the small amount of water had left. ¡°It was a wet spell.¡± Then she pouted. ¡°It looked fun and was easy to learn, but it¡¯s not helping with this.¡± She stabbed her finger at the wireframes. Tom glanced at the wet floor. The magic had been harmless, but Tom was sure Briana was going to get a lot of enjoyment out of it by playing practical jokes on other people for the next couple of months. ¡°So, Kang? Why don¡¯t you explain how you got lucky enough to acquire the skill?¡± The other reincarnator stood up and then practiced a fast step to the side. It was a very deliberate and small motion. Then he repeated it, again and again. It was very mundane, and the type of movement he could only ever imagine a dancer practicing. The large boy sighed. ¡°It was just this. I wanted to get quicker footwork to let me fight better. I practiced lots, and it happened.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s it? There was nothing else?¡± Tom raised an eyebrow, expressing his doubt. ¡°What do you want me to say? When I moved, I imagined the abilities existed. And then I¡­¡± he glanced significantly at Briana. ¡°I did what she did. I used all my pool each day. It took weeks, but when it happened, it was sudden.¡± The translation was that he has had it in a past life and had wanted to bring it into this one, and fate had let him bridge the gap. ¡°And none of the practicing was in the trial? It was all done out here?¡± Kang shook his head. ¡°No, it was a project purely for the isolation room. Whenever I took a step, I imagined it happening instantly, visualising it so that it was almost like I could imagine that, in practice, it was instantaneous. Lots of times I also closed my eyes and did it blindly, but I don¡¯t know if that did anything. I was desperate for it to work. That might have been the only reason it did.¡± The description did nothing to help Tom get the ability. Prior experience with the skill seemed to be the main thing Kang was pointing at, and that was not something he could wish into existence. Tom practiced the step. ¡°That¡¯s it. That¡¯s the right form. Now, just try to go as fast as possible.¡± ¡°This is going to take ages.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Kang agreed. While Briana was practicing her magic and getting frequent advice from them, Tom attempted to train Quick Step. He knew that, relatively to what April gave him, this basic sidestep motion was unfocused, and, as a result, it was probably going to require years of effort to reach the point that he could form the skill. But it was something else he could practice in everyday life. He could train this when he couldn¡¯t be developing other abilities, so he might as well do his best. Tom kept training, and, all too soon, the week passed. Now, he was seated across from April once more. ¡°You haven¡¯t got it yet?¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not completely reckless. Here is still the safest place for the attempt.¡± The trial administrator in her angel form smiled at him. ¡°Do you want to do it right away?¡± He nodded. She leant forward predatorily, and a full English breakfast appeared in front of him. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Your last meal,¡± she laughed. ¡°Eat. It¡¯s nice.¡± No, it¡¯s not. It¡¯s going to kill me, he thought. It was destined to be filled with poisons to force a meaningful cast to help him merge his spell. He could tell that by how she was sitting and the tilt of her head. Without giving his thoughts away. He cut up a sausage and ate a piece of it. ¡°Do I really need to eat all of it?¡± ¡°Well, you obviously don¡¯t need to eat the sourdough. No one eats that.¡± ¡°I thought that was the boiled spinach,¡± he said, prodding the densely-packed, limp, dark-green ball of vegetables. This pile was a little larger than an egg. It wasn¡¯t steaming at all, so was probably at room temperature, like they were trying to make it unappetising. ¡°Greens are good for you. Eat up.¡± With a shrug, he complied. It was very nice, and even the spinach didn¡¯t go down that badly. April nodded. ¡°And the coffee.¡± He drained it with one large final gulp. ¡°Good job. Now you fight.¡± ¡°Fight what?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see. It¡¯ll be nostalgic for you.¡± Tom did not like the sound of that, and a moment later his fears were realised. He was standing on a plain with orange grass under him and a series of very familiar mounds spread out in front of him. Insects were filling the air, and, in the couple seconds April gave him to acclimatise to his surroundings, it was obvious how artificial the scenario she had constructed was. The wasps in real life had never had more than four species concentrated in a particular area, and even then, they had similar phenotypes. His glance had revealed dozens of different types, with a variety of colours and shapes. ¡°I can¡¯t beat this,¡± he observed. ¡°I know,¡± her disembodied voice said. There was a crackle of energy and a red, dangerous-looking dome rose to encase him and about forty wasps. Tom remembered why he was here and spent the fate with the image he had prepared for this exact purpose: an evolution that upgraded the average passive benefit of all the input spells. ¡°Okay, they¡¯re going to notice you shortly,¡± April told him. Right on cue, his stomach gurgled, and the pressure was absolute. With a gasp, he vomited up everything that he had just eaten. Above him, the noise of the buzzing wasps changed. Suddenly, he was the focus of their attention with an intensity that made him wonder if some of his enmity from last life had somehow leaked through. Chapter 70.1 – Spells from Combat Tom pushed himself up from his doubled-over position and wiped the vomit from the corners of his mouth. He was very aware of the wasps above him, and Danger Sense was screamed at him pointlessly. He wanted to tell it to shut up, but it was a passive skill, and didn¡¯t work like that. What made it useful when the danger was unknown was frustrating when the threat was staring him in the face like this. He knew exactly how much danger he was in. April was merciless when it came to these types of situations. He only gave himself a fifty percent chance of surviving, which he considered a more than acceptable risk. If it helped him to get Heal Organs, it was worth it even if he died poorly a couple of times. The end result was going to justify his personal suffering. Danger Sense¡¯s tone changed, and the insects attacked. They drove at him from multiple directions. Spark crackled out from his hand, fuelled by precognition mana. It spread out seemingly randomly and struck a dozen of them. Every bug that was struck tumbled from the sky, and Tom understood instinctively that they were stunned and not fried. The wave of suspiciously directed electricity had disabled about a third of the enemies, and the rest made it through, and, almost as one, stung him. Tom stamped down on his instincts. There was a reason why he was here, and, while usually as a first step, he would have attempted to quarantine the venom at the point of injection, doing so now was running counter to why he was here in the first place. He suppressed the itch, and focused instead on both stepping on the stunned insects and jabbing down hard with his spear butt to kill them. Almost instantly, he realised the attempts were futile. These were not insects from Earth - these were rank-one creatures from Existentia. Their tough bodies, cushioned by the soft dirt and grass, couldn¡¯t be crushed by any pressure that he could bring to bear. Cursing his slow thoughts, and the lack of foresight that had led to wasting time, he switched his approach up. Instead of stamping, he stabbed them, flashes of Power Strike enhancing his spear tip to a perfect cutting edge and doing what raw physical power couldn¡¯t. Every stab split a wasp in half and killed it. As he mechanically eliminated the stunned insects, his mind raced to consider options and strategies. No brilliant ideas presented themselves. He lacked the resources at his current level of development. His skill, Power Strike, was already threatening him with skill exhaustion after only killing ten. There was no way he could kill forty like this. Even the half-application he was doing instead of a full strike wouldn¡¯t let him extend the ability for long enough. His reserves were going to burn out. Not that it mattered - the spear skill was not his only bottleneck. He was also lacking the magical reserves to stun them all in a timely manner. As an offensive strategy, Tom realised, it was doomed to failure, so he changed his approach. All he could do was to kill as many as possible until the skill became unreliable, and then, hopefully, use his healing to outlast the rest. As he killed the creatures manually, he formed the Heal Organ spell. It was rushed because of the circumstances, but that stress was the point of being here. The precognition affinity mana, as always, worked with the released fate to deform his spell. He had long since given up fighting against it, and accepted the changes the undefinable magic wrought. The spell clicked into existence with surprisingly little pushback. Tom examined what the interplay of his limited manual mana manipulation, knowledge, fate, and rogue precognition affinity mana had produced. The resulting framework wasn¡¯t exactly like the wireframes he had painstakingly remembered and was attempting to mimic, but it was close. It was as sleek as expected, with additional flourishes that did not belong, but made it less like a blunt instrument and more like a piece of art. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It existed fully formed, and, when he prodded it, he discovered it was suspiciously stable. Tom could feel the poison that April had made him ingest and the venoms pumped in by the wasps collide together in his blood stream. The potency of both was raised because of the interaction. Internally, he groaned. He had been expecting April to have set something like this up, but it was still frustrating to have his fears confirmed. As much as undoing and reforming the spell felt like the best solution, the circumstances meant there was no time. He poured his available resources into the spell ¨C namely, eight normal mana and more than twice that of the precognition affinity flavour. In total, it was three times what someone his age should have possessed, which was a massive advantage, but one he rarely thought about. Fifty milliseconds later, the spell, finished and fully powered, sank into him with the slightest of nudges. Tom could feel it working, and there was an immediate ding. Yes, he exclaimed internally as a thrill of triumph went through him. He had the spell, and now, if the trial killed him, it was worth it. The cost would be only embarrassment and a bit of pain. They were both outcomes that Tom was happy to suffer in order to advance his spell repertoire. Then, a moment later, he realised what he was thinking. No, he scolded himself harshly. Accepting that outcome was not okay. He buried the defeatism attitude. He didn¡¯t want to die, and April never sent him into unwinnable situations, even if it often felt like they were. Metaphorically, he rolled up his sleeves. He was going to survive this. Heal Organs had a diagnostic component to it and it immediately assessed his entire body. The breakfast April had made him eat had contained devastatingly powerful poisons, all perfectly timed to go active at the moment the wasps hit. Multiple organ systems were on the verge of failure and that was only compounded by the venom injected by the wasps. There was no way to address all of the problems with a single cast. He slipped into the familiar pattern of triage and focused on the most pressing issues; If I don¡¯t stop that heart failure, I¡¯m going to die in ten seconds-kind of problems. The heart, lungs, and brain became his sole focus. Problems that were as potentially equally as lethal but wouldn¡¯t cause issues for longer - like kidneys, bladder, intestines and the skin - were pushed back to be addressed later. The wasps were still stinging him, and, thankfully, April had stripped out the pain components of the venom they usually delivered ¨C otherwise, without the ability to turn his pain off, he would have been overwhelmed by the spikes of agony. The continual introduction of new venom was an issue he had to solve, but his spear was useless unless he stunned them first, and he could tell by how close his body was to shutting down that directing magic to that purpose was not acceptable. He switched to using his daggers instead. With careful movements, he plucked one from where they were stinging him and then cut it in half. All those hours chasing butterflies helped, and that was why he didn¡¯t catch a wasp every time or even every ten attempts. He did succeed, and the numbers dropped. Whenever over four mana had regenerated, he would recast his new spell, and had enough leeway to switch his focus onto preventing organ death beyond the big three. Whichever of them were closest to the tipping point was patched up. For a life-or-death situation, Tom realised, that he was surprisingly relaxed. Danger Sense was not even screaming at him anymore. His healing was outpacing new damage, and his effort with his knife was reducing the number of enemies he faced. He had gotten it to the point where there was less than a dozen left, and, if he understood how precognition affinity mana worked, the most deadly of the swarm had been the first to die. He was winning. Two hours later, he finally reached the point it was clear that he was no longer in danger of dying, and then April brought him back to the caf¨¦. The residual organ damage was fixed up immediately, and he felt refreshed. Tom patted himself down and stretched luxuriously. There was not a hint of the pain he had been feeling. Then he grinned at April. ¡°Did I get anything good?¡± Chapter 70.2 – Spells from Combat ¡°Yes.¡± She answered with a smile. ¡°Awesome. Let¡¯s see it.¡± he held out a hand expectantly. ¡°No. I want you to get Touch Heal straight away instead.¡± Something about the way she said it made his brain tickle. He knew the feeling; a sense of importance and knowledge beyond what he was supposed to possess. His gaze sharpened. ¡°Can it wait until my fate builds up?¡± She shook her head. ¡°I can give you a meal and a chance to rebuild your mana stores, but nothing more than that.¡± Tom nodded. ¡°Half an hour, then. Should I practice Instant Strike in the meantime?¡± ¡°No.¡± This time, he did do a double take. There was a lot of conviction in that word. April, her face tight, only smiled. There was a mystery here, and it was clear whatever it was included a subject she was not comfortable sharing with him. Tom could think of many reasons why that might be. Food appeared in front of him. ¡°Eat, then you fight.¡± ¡°Is it poisoned?¡± ¡°Some minor stuff,¡± she answered evasively. ¡°Please don¡¯t check.¡± ¡°This is¡­¡± he started. ¡°Completely necessary,¡± she assured him and shut down further discussion at the same time. Thirty minutes later, as prepared as he was ever going to get, he was transported once more to a familiar location. The sightless eyes of the wador stared back at him. Fuck you, he thought in annoyance toward April. After the wasps, he didn¡¯t know why he was facing this. What was the point of dredging up opponents from his past? Some misguided idea of therapy was his guess, but it didn¡¯t matter what its origins was - this was just another enemy he had to overcome. Then the emulator, in control of what he guessed was supposed to be a facsimile of his mortal enemy, caught sight of him. His perception of time altered immediately. Tom¡¯s breath hitched as he registered the sensation. The opponent April had constructed to fight him was significantly faster than him. Everything moved slower, and he could feel how sluggish his body¡¯s reactions were. Perception and thought were what was sped up, so he had more than enough time to study what he was about to fight. It was a big creature, even larger when he was in this body as opposed to his adult one. When once it must have weighed two or three times more than him, in this engagement, that was more like ten. Its mouth was shut, but he knew the deadly teeth that it contained, and the razor-sharp claws on all of its six legs. It looked a lot like a cat, but, with its intelligence, was probably a deadlier hunter. Tom recognised that, despite its appearance, this was not the one that had killed him - it was only an echo of its form created by April. Nor was the landscape an authentic recreation of the place where he had died. There was no ongoing side battle against the dragon, and the wador itself was clearly significantly diminished versus the version from the trial. That one would have literally slaughtered him before he could blink. Yet the scars on its eyes were the same, and it stalked him with the similar threatening intensity. Tom reacted by keeping his weapon positioned perfectly as it padded around him. It was waiting, assessing, calculating the best way to kill him. Abruptly, it leapt at him. ¡°Shit,¡± he cursed at how fast it moved. He stumbled backwards in response. Fortunately, it didn¡¯t approach melee range. That had been a feint to test him, and, based on the way its ears perked up, it was amused by his reaction. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. It accelerated again; this time, he lowered the point of his weapon to intercept it, and didn¡¯t instinctively retreat. The fight was on now, and he couldn¡¯t afford another mistake like the last. Something like that was too easily exploitable by an intelligent person. There was a flare of magic close to the wador, and then it rushed at him. Compressed air slammed into his shoulder before Tom could even think about evading it. While it was only air, it had a weight to it that half lifted him off the ground. He stumbled, and his spear tip drifted down and to the side. It exploited the opportunity charging him for real. Danger Sense flared, and he followed its instructions. He launched himself sideways instead of back. The wador struggled to adjust as it sprang past him having targeting the spot that it had expected him to retreat too. If he hadn¡¯t listened to Danger Sense, Tom knew he would have been dead now. As it soared past him, it rotated to attack him and raked a single claw down his thigh. Tom winced, but the wound was no more than a scratch. He dodged backwards and opened up space between them with his spear once more. This time, he set his feet wider, and leant forward slightly to prevent the wind gust from getting the better of him again. The monster paused its incessant stalking: ¡°This is pointless. You know I¡¯m going to kill you again. It¡¯s inevitable.¡± Tom deliberately didn¡¯t respond. The wador was bullshitting. April would have left a way for him to win. He was doing this to help him evolve Touch Heal and, if he was guaranteed to die, he was never getting that opportunity. ¡°I was allowed to adjust my build to counter your new one. I was surprised by your status sheet. What you have is pretty bad, seems like you¡¯ve made lots of bad choices.¡± Tom cautiously flexed his leg. The wound, thanks to his blood evolution, had already stopped bleeding. ¡°That¡¯s nice. I¡¯m glad you haven¡¯t lost your misplaced sense of superiority. If that¡¯s the case, if you¡¯ve reset your build, why on Existentia would you take wind gust instead of something useful?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s fun.¡± Tom saw the burst of power out of the corner of his eyes. The magic struck him with furious force, and he stumbled sideways, unable to prevent it. ¡°I could use it alone to beat you, but I have other tricks.¡± There was another flare of magic from his other side. Tom could have reacted, but doing so to every wind gust was self-defeating. Intense heat assaulted him as a firestorm washed over his position. His eyes stung as he kept them open to watch the enemy. Not avoiding it, Tom realised, had been a mistake. Until he could tell the difference between the spells, they were all going to need to be dodged. The wador opened its mouth, showing its teeth. ¡°This is how you express amusement, isn¡¯t it?¡± While there had only been the one proper encounter, the battle had progressed long enough for him to have drawn a number of conclusions. None of them were positive for his success chances. It was clear that the attribute gap was too high for this to be an easy fight. He was sure his opponent was stronger than rank-four, and a battle of attrition would not suit him. While the fire was a limited resource, as clearly shown by its lack of use, individually, the casts were powerful. It was only going to take a couple more of those infernos, and he would be in real trouble. His stomach rumbled, and he remembered the meal he had eaten. That was another ticking time bomb. ¡°I think you¡¯re too scared to attack me.¡± Tom temporised, hoping to provoke it. It showed more teeth, clearly amused by his blatant attempt to infuriate it. Its grin was very effective. It was like looking into the maw of a lion, and one that had already bitten his head off once before at that. He didn¡¯t know why April had chosen this scenario, but he hated it. ¡°Why would I risk confrontation when I can just burn you alive from range?¡± It feinted toward him, and then pulled back. Instead of a physical attack, it struck him magically with another firestorm. The runes on his orphanage clothes that had been protecting him failed. His entire front screamed out in pain. He really didn¡¯t want to imagine how bad the burns were. He winced, and the wador continued stalking him, showing lots of teeth. ¡°I¡¯m not a monster.¡± It taunted him. ¡°I have strategy, and patience, and I¡¯m going to make certain of the kill. I think I¡¯m a lucky wador, getting the chance to kill you twice.¡± ¡°Do you ever shut up?¡± It chuffed in response, but the banter, while probably overall to the wador¡¯s advantage, was not wasted by Tom. It gave him the opportunity to think and adjust. The firestorm had a range restriction; he was not sure how to exploit that fact, but he could make things slightly harder for it. Rather than allowing it to dictate the battle, he flipped the script. He picked his direction and basically charged its tail to force it to rotate clockwise. By forcing that direction, any future attacks would be against his current uninjured side. This time, he focused on identifying the tells inherent in the spells that were going to be used against him. The wind gust struck him. He only staggered slightly and didn¡¯t change his counter hunting. Its transparent attempt to encourage him to change the direction of their circling had failed. He had no talent in reading wador emotions, but he was sure that twitch of the tail was annoyance. Another fire wave hit him, but he had predicted it. He retreated and limited the damage and now he had a better idea of the timings of the attacks. Multiple wind gusts struck him. They were annoying, and he allowed it to play its cat-and-mouse game. Then the cooldown of the inferno was over. It feinted, but Tom was ready to gamble and was already moving. He sprinted straight at it into the red-hot flames. Chapter 71.1 – A Success Well Earned Tom understood that what he was attempting was both desperate and crazy. He knew that the feint was controlled, that it was just a way to get Tom within the range of its magic. All things being equal, it was not an opening. But, if his calculations were right, then this was an opportunity - admittedly a risky one, but he had taken more desperate gambles in the past when he wasn¡¯t under a GOD¡¯s shield. Given that today he had that protection, this was well worth the attempt. His predictions were proven accurate almost immediately, as flames burning hotter than any campfire washed around him. His untempered skin was helpless against it, blisters forming almost instantly. Tongues of super-heated air burned deep into his nostrils, destroying any hope of him having a sense of smell until April restored him. All the water was sucked from his mouth, and it was too hot to breathe. The radiant heat burnt through his eyelids like they were paper. The world was heat and pain, and his senses were suppressed, but he could visualise what the wador would be doing from the data he had gathered over the minutes since the fight had started. He could clearly imagine the scene. The wador would have danced forward two metres and then cast its inferno spell. It was an ability that it was either unfamiliar with or one that required constant channelling, but Tom guessed the reason didn¡¯t matter. The key point was that it would be stuck on the spot, unable to move until the fire spell ran its course, and only then would it focus back on the battlefield. Only then would it discover Tom¡¯s gamble, and by then it would be too late. Blind to the world, unable to see hear or sense anything through the flames, he measured his steps. The moment he was within range, he funnelled energy into Spark to create something that was closer to a lightning bolt than the humble tier-zero spell was supposed to allow. He unleashed a force of nature fuelled exclusively with precognition mana so it would target its enemy without Tom having to direct it - which was useful, because any aiming would have just been guesswork. All of his sensing nerves were gone, and he felt the magic vanish rather than seeing or feeling the flames being extinguished. His face stung, and he ignored all the body¡¯s warning signals to force his eyes open. Everything was a white blur. His eyes might have been partially functioning, but were not at a level where they could help in the fight. Functionally, he was blind. The spear that he was thrusting with all of his skill and power struck a target. There was a momentary resistance, which gave way after mere milliseconds. He recognised the feel of penetrating flesh and striking bone. A thrill of achievement went through him. He had stabbed it, despite their rank difference. Now Tom knew that it was up to him to maintain his momentum. His eyes were gone, and it was well beyond his current ability to heal them mid-battle, but he was not completely helpless. Static electricity under his control settled over the enemy. It was not a full substitute for vision, it was barely a partial one, but it met his immediate needs, and the silhouette he could perceive told him that he had missed the creature¡¯s heart. He tore the weapon out and struck again and again. This time, the blows were on target. Even with Power Strike, his strength was insufficient for the weapon to punch through far enough. Its vitality had to be in the forties. Tom wasn¡¯t sure about its rank, but he was thinking she had set him up against something closer to rank six to eight rather than four. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. He stabbed again. The weapon was penetrating more than a hand length, and he felt the bone that had been denying him shatter. One more, he thought. That would kill it, and then he could heal himself. Danger Sense blared a warning. Impending Doom was upon him. Certain death. He threw himself away as the stun relinquished its control and the wador exploded into action. Its claws tore into his stomach in an all-too-familiar feeling, and then fire engulfed his body as it used its magic as well. The impact of all three actions simultaneously pushing him in the same direction sent him flying away, completely out of control. He counted two full seconds as he was thrown metres through the air. He crashed hard to the ground on his back, the impact blowing the air out of his lungs. It hurt, and some bones broke. Clinically, he broke it down. A two-second fall meant he had gone five metres in the air. He was lucky to be alive. With all the fire the wador had expelled, his static electricity sensing field was inconsistent, but it didn¡¯t take a genius to know that it was coming for him. He pulled up his charred spear in the vague hope that it would impale itself. Then he saw it coming through the residual of its fire attack. Its intentions were clear. It was approaching him to close its jaws around his skull and then¡­ No, Tom roared in his head. He would not succumb to fear, he would fight through the pain to the bitter end. His weapon was almost up and in a position to impale it. He had a brief moment of hope, and then realised he was too slow, and it was too fast. The injuries and the lack of leverage he had because he was sprawled on the ground robbed him of the ability to move quickly enough. No, not this time. He yelled in his head. I would not die because of this thing again. His body was almost dead. It wasn¡¯t like he had the strength to continue the battle. If it was truly smart, as it had claimed, it would have leapt away and finished him from range with another couple of fireballs. Not that, with him in this state, such active participation would be required. All it had to do was stay away, but it wanted to end things with its mouth, and that gave Tom a chance. He remembered all the hours practicing Instant Strike. If he targeted such a blow into the gaping wound he had already created, then even ninety percent strength might be sufficient. Every part of him focused on the feeling of the skill that had been close to forming in the training arena. A single thrust, carried out in an instant. He remembered the lack of resistance in that space April had created. That, and the way it didn¡¯t require body movement. Him being pinned and lacking leverage didn¡¯t matter. The skill, after all, was just a flex of the soul. Tom imagined himself carrying out the perfect strike from a place where he wasn¡¯t helplessly lying in the ground. Instead, he was in that arena she had built for him, feet placed firmly on a hard surface and able to drive the power of his legs through the tip of his weapon. His exhausted, terribly damaged body didn¡¯t react at all, but he envisaged the perfect attack, and his soul flexed with him. There was a ding. There was no other feedback to indicate whether the attack had worked, and the wador certainly showed no reaction. It kept coming and bit down, aiming for his head. Danger Sense, his other senses being almost non-existent, guided him. At the last moment, he lunged sideways, and it bit his shoulder instead of his head. It expressed its displeasure at Tom evading it by using its claws. There was a mad scramble of movement as it used its multiple legs to shred him. Both of the bottom ones tore into his legs, and then the upper right one mauled his shoulder while the other three supported its weight. Tom didn¡¯t need a diagnosis spell to know the damage was horrific. It reared back, clearly intending to go for the head again, and then, inexplicably, it collapsed. Its stillness told him it was dead, but, to his pain addled mind it didn¡¯t make sense. How did something like that just die? Then, mentally, he ignored the issue. If it was alive and playing dead, then it would kill him later, but if it had truly passed, then he could save himself. Chapter 71.2 – A Success Well Earned Immediate efficient healing was what he needed. There was only one thing that could save him. The four component spell forms that fed into Touch Heal appeared in front of him. Without waiting or agonising over the process, he merged them into the spell he had used so extensively in his previous lives. Then he flooded it with the dozen points of precognition affinity mana that he had left. It trembled and deformed on the edges as the mana entered it, just like all the other spells he had been creating had done. This attempt, unfortunately, had less dedicated fate to guide the process, as he had only regenerated three points in the half an hour April had given him. She had her reasons to push him to do this now, but he hoped that measly amount would be sufficient to get him a great outcome. Satisfied with the appearance of the spell form, he released it. There was another ding as time slowed dramatically. For a moment, excitement went through him when he thought he had earned Healing Tranquillity back, but the feel of the time slowing down was wrong. Instead, it was a souped-up version of the time dilation skill that went along with Heal Organs. Instantly, it communicated all the damage that had been done to him, and, with the time still slowed, he could assess the next steps. With a thought, his magic sealed the femoral artery in his leg. Time jerked forward, and he triggered the diagnosis component again. It reset, and once more he had breathing room so to speak. The femoral artery was a die-straight-away kind of wound, but the rest couldn¡¯t be ignored either, so he catalogued all of them. There were fourth level burns on his right side and his face; third level ones over most of the rest of his body. Then what was the equivalent of nine significant stab wounds where the enemy had bitten down on him. There were numerous scratches and cuts on his legs, some of them over two inches long and an inch deep. He had been disembowelled with a cut large enough on his stomach for his intestines to have escaped his body¡¯s confines. Thankfully, a lack of movement meant that hadn¡¯t occurred yet; then, finally, there were the seven different poisons from his meal. Tom was sure April had models of how he would perform, and if he were to create injuries that would promote a successful merge into Touch Heal, this would have been what he would have done. All of his systems were damaged, including bones in the shoulder that had been cut through. Every part of the Touch Heal spell was going to be required to fix him. As he lay there, he triggered his new spell over and over again, marvelling at the slowed-down time which it started with. It wasn¡¯t as good as Healing Tranquillity, but it was much better than nothing. As he was restoring himself, he took shortcuts. Rather than healing any of the damage fully, he only triaged the worst of the bleeding initially. When it came to his burns, he superficially fixed them to stop sepsis from setting in, but took no effort to prevent scarring. The poisons, due to their nature, had to be dealt with in full, including two he had to physically push out of his body, because he had nothing that could destroy them internally. Everything he did was triage, and, ten minutes after he started, April was finally able to bring him back to the caf¨¦ and heal him properly. The horrific scarring that had been about to form vanished along with the continuous pain. He bowed his head to her: ¡°Thank you.¡± The gratitude was for more than one thing, and, from the up-curl of the corner of her lips despite her stern visage, she understood exactly what he was saying. ¡°That was smart,¡± she told him. ¡°Only healing enough to prove you weren¡¯t in mortal danger was clever.¡± ¡°I¡¯m learning, and it¡¯s what I¡¯ll be doing from now on.¡± He admitted and then looked up at her hopefully. ¡°And?¡± She handed him the clipboard, and he read it immediately. Skill: Instant Strike ¨C Tier 1 Instantly strike an opponent passing within a thirty-degree cone of the reach of a spear thrust. The attack will be ninety percent as strong as your base attack with a plain tier-zero weapon. Modifiers from the spear you are currently using are not applied even if the description indicates they are compatible with skills. After the strike, your body¡¯s effective attributes will be instantly reduced by 80%, a reduction which will recover linearly over 2.4 seconds. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Tom stared up at her in disbelief. This was not what he had wanted to see, and she knew that. Since it was a trained spell, there were no extra bonuses. He had gotten exactly what he had purchased, but he also understood why she had shared it. Now that his brain was not addled by his dying body, he recognised what had happened. His Instant Strike into the gaping wound had been what had killed it. His new skill had shown its deadliness by punching through the monster¡¯s exposed heart and killing it instantly, or at least close to instantly. He smiled up at April. ¡°I figured that was what I got. What about Touch Heal?¡± She didn¡¯t respond verbally, but the wording on the clipboard was replaced with a wall of text. It was the spell he expected, with all the add-ons from previous stages of the process. The first thing he noted was that Touch Heal, just like Spark, was a persistent spell. He was going to keep it forever, no matter how many times he used it as a base to merge into other new spells. That, all by itself, was a huge bonus. Smiling, he read further: Spell: Touch Heal ¨C Tier 0 ¨C Level 10 You can heal yourself and others if you make physical contact with them. Then he studied the sideways evolutions listed below. As expected, the functionality gained at lower levels had mostly come through unchanged. He suspected a few minor benefits had been lost, at least in the description, but the bulk of his earned extra capability had flowed through. He started from the top. Sideways Evolution 1: Boosted Diagnostics. For the diagnosis stage of the use of Touch Heal, time is dilated at a rate of 64:1. Once you begin healing, the time flow will return to normal. It was nice to have had the bonus of slowed time quantified. Sixty-four times would buy him a lot of efficiency. In the time it took someone to say a simple sentence, Tom could spend a couple of minutes planning exactly how to fix the injuries, and, from the experience he already had with it, the ability was stronger than it claimed. Not only could he enter and re-enter the diagnostic state at any time - it was also flexible enough to allow him to line up a series of actions when he was in there. Only once he triggered that list of instructions did the time dilation stop. Overall, it was about half as strong as Healing Tranquillity, but that was still very good. His eyes drifted to the next sideways evolution, and one that was probably the most individually powerful of them. Sideways Evolution 2: Superior body. Resilience and the speed of injury recovery is increased with the following specific additional benefits. There was nothing surprising in what was listed. Most of those benefits had been present in the lower spells, with the exception of the efficiency of all organs being increased by fifty percent. That one was new. Theoretically, it could be build-breaking, but he wasn¡¯t going to be that lucky, and he suspected the description had overstated the value. For example, he doubted it would make him fifty percent more intelligent, which one reading of that benefit would suggest. Likewise, he was not about to become fifty percent harder to cut, which would have happened if his skin¡¯s performance was truly improved to that degree. Instead, Tom suspected, it represented a general improvement to normal operations. Skin might resist piercing attacks slightly more and heal faster, but its primary function was to keep out bacteria, viruses and fungus, and that was what would be boosted by fifty percent. That was an advantage, but not that much of an advantage. As for the brain, it was possible his nerves might now fire fifty percent quicker, which would give him a bonus for how fast he thought, but would do nothing to increase his intelligence. Like with the skin, it was a nice improvement, but not an earth-shattering great one. His focus continued down to the next cluster of additions. Sideways Evolution 3: Internal Barrier, Constructed internal barriers can block foreign substances a full tier higher than what proficiency and energy invested in the spell would usually allow. Sideways Evolution 4: Active Resistance Boost. For 16 mana, this spell can be applied to increase resistance to all purgeable foreign substances and energies by 32% for half an hour. He ignored those two as they were abilities that he was already aware of, and, in the case of the second trait, intended to take advantage of once he had more mana available. Which left him with the last bonus. Sideways Evolution 5: Improved Efficiency. Touch Heal is 50% more potent when used on self. Given he was primarily getting Touch Heal to fix himself up, this was arguably the biggest bonus out of all five. April had been watching the micro expressions flitting across his face the entire time. Her grin had grown steadily broader: ¡°And that, my friend, is a damn fine pay-off for a year and a half of work.¡± Chapter 71.3 – A Success Well Earned Tom couldn¡¯t help but agree. The outcome was so much better than he imagined it to be when he was in the ritual circle and discovered that he wouldn¡¯t be able to use experience for over ten years. Back then, he had almost despaired, but now he saw the benefit of what DEUS had set up. Between these types of bonuses and the titles he could presumably earn while gaining them, he was going to be a powerhouse. ¡°Officially, it¡¯s tier-zero; but what do you think it¡¯s really an equivalent too?¡± ¡°Tier-zero,¡± she answered, laughing. ¡°Well, obviously not. That last evolution puts it up a tier just by itself, and Superior Body is at least another tier on top of that. Somewhere between three and four would be my estimate.¡± ¡°I wish it had been classified on that basis.¡± She looked at him quizzically. ¡°To arbitrage your hypothesised title tiers for creating spells?¡± ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡± ¡°I can see the appeal,¡± she agreed. ¡°But I think that¡¯s short-term thinking. By the time you¡¯re fifteen, I doubt this being tier-zero instead of three or four will matter. It¡¯s very unlikely to push you over a threshold, and, for all other purposes, this spell being tier-zero is infinitely better. It¡¯ll mean a faster spell leveling, not to mention the benefit of future evolutions. Which, since it¡¯s tier-zero, are far more likely.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Tom agreed, waving her arguments aside. He knew that he just wanted to have his cake and eat it, too. Once more, he read the list of abilities he had managed to tack onto what had already been an amazing spell. It was impressive, especially given all those passive bonuses. He glanced up and symbolically put the clipboard on the table with the pages he had been reading facing down, so they wouldn¡¯t distract him. ¡°Thank you for sharing that with me. Now, I hate to be that person, but I don¡¯t have time to wait around and chat.¡± He expected her to insist on a celebration, but she didn¡¯t. ¡°I assume you want to go straight into training Lunge.¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°Not today. I think, for this session, I would like to practice fighting. One versus one battles only.¡± ¡°I see. You want to train for the divine championship trial. Is that it?¡± ¡°Yes; do you know how it works? I mean, how I get selected?¡± ¡°If you reach the level they need, you¡¯ll be told.¡± ¡°I guess proving myself against rank four is what¡¯s needed for now.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t see how it could hurt.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Suddenly, Tom found himself standing in a familiar meadow, waiting for his challenges to arrive. What followed was a series of educational fights against monsters that were either significantly faster than him or much bigger. Surprisingly, the battles against the behemoths were actually the hardest for him to get a clean victory in. The challenges might all have been difficult, and he suffered many wounds, some of them grievous, but he didn¡¯t die even once. When his allocated time in the trial was at an end, he stood next to April, equal parts happy and sad. While the fights had gone well, he hadn¡¯t received a notification. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m general combat rank four?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± April told him. ¡°Perhaps, there¡¯s a particular opponent niche you can¡¯t beat yet. Before Instant Strike, we knew there were speedsters that were beyond you, and there might be a similar category of monsters out there. Next week, I¡¯ll push you against a wider variety of opponents and we¡¯ll find the weakness. Once we know where the gap is, we¡¯ll find the ability you need to close it.¡± She patted him on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll get you there, Tom. I promise.¡± ¡°I have achieved everything I put on my list. This was supposed to be enough.¡± ¡°Maybe it is.¡± He glared at her suspiciously. ¡°Are you trying to pacify me?¡± She laughed. ¡°No, just because I know they exist doesn¡¯t mean I know how people are informed. There might be a delay; you might need to sleep. There might be dozens of other minor conditions you have to satisfy before you get the message. All I can say is that you¡¯re close. Hang in there. We¡¯ll get you in soon.¡± ¡°Thank you, April, for always believing in me.¡± She said nothing, and then the trial faded away, and he was outside in the real world. Trumpets went off. Then, without him controlling the process he was metaphorically pushed sideways as though he was stepping into his old system room. Reality shifted once more, and he found himself in a bare room with metal walls and no monitor screens or couch like those that existed in his pseudo system room. From years of coming here, he recognised what was happening. He spun around to confirm there were no surprises elsewhere in the room. There weren¡¯t. It was completely empty. Worried about what might be happening in the real world, he tried to leave. Nothing happened. He tried again and realised he was stuck. His heartbeat faster as an edge of panic entered his thoughts. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± he demanded. Bolded text appeared on the wall he was facing. Congratulations, you are now a Contender for the Divine Champion¡¯s Trial. Note. This room is a competitor¡¯s room, and, when it is in use, the rules of the Pseudo-System Room apply without the time dilation penalty. Additional functions of the room will be unlocked when you upgrade yourself from Contender to Participant. Tom¡¯s eyes widened as the implications of that message finally sunk in. He had done it. He had got an invitation, and while he was in the room, his avatar acted perfectly, so there was no risk of his reincarnator status being discovered. Directly under the first message was a timer. Contender Challenge Starts in. 23 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes and 12 seconds. It was ticking down. There was nothing else written anywhere, and, no matter what he said or tried, the room refused to respond further. With a shrug, he tried to return to the real world. There was no resistance this time. A few minutes had passed, and his body, along with the other two, was on their way to dinner. Tom slid into his normal act, while internally he was dancing in excitement. He had done it. He would complete the contender challenge and reap the rewards. Chapter 72.1 – Complications Two days had passed since he had the dual successes of Instant Strike and Touch Heal. Their addition had been sufficient for him to be offered a chance to compete for the Divine¡¯s Champions Trial. Since then, he had spent a significant amount of time in what he was calling his contender room. It was superior to the pseudo-system room alternative, but only in the sense that the limitation of the time dilation did not apply. All the other features of the pseudo-system were available, including the monitors, but there were no extras. He had hoped that it would give him access to browsing the experience shop and auction house. Basically, he wanted what he was due to receive at age ten; but, unfortunately, that was not to be. He was still locked out from his status; however, having the time dilation penalty removed was significant. With audio and screens moving in real time, he could do his thinking in here without penalty, while his body did the mundane boring things like walking from spot to spot or sitting at the reading lessons. Not for the first time, he glanced over at the new message that came with the room. Contender Challenge Starts in: 21 days, 12 hours, 16 minutes and 51 seconds. Despite him having searched for it, he found no other data about what the contender challenge actually was, either here or in the isolation rooms. He hadn¡¯t had an opportunity to interact with Corrine, who was the one person he knew had the answers to his questions. While roping in Dimitri to get the answers for him was an option, he had abandoned the idea as stupid. Tom was sure that the caretaker could track down the truth, but getting him to do so would be problematic. One, because abusing the fame he had from his past life felt wrong; two, because he didn¡¯t want to misuse the emergency signal protocol that they had set up. All Dimitri would be doing would be satisfying his curiosity, and it was unlikely he¡¯d be able to divulge anything helpful. After all, not only was it possible - it was also likely that the GODs didn¡¯t want him to know any more than what was displayed. If that was the case, he might end up sitting in front of Dimitri, unable to speak. He has had a first-hand experience with how powerful Geas could be. That risk of his reaching out failing utterly meant that trying to use an emergency session was not sensible. All contact with adults beyond the normal potentially marked him as reincarnator and was worth avoiding, unless it was absolutely necessary. That meant all he knew about the coming challenge was that it was going to start at around five a.m. in the morning. At that point, something, he didn¡¯t know what, would occur. He could be dragged into a trial physically, or it might be a virtual outcome. Tom was uncertain about how it would go, which, in turn, meant he would need to be in an isolation room when the time came around. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. So that¡¯s what he would do. Luckily, unlike with the others, the illusion magic that impacted everyone else using the corridors at night didn¡¯t affect him. He left the contender room and continued almost jogging toward the dining room where he was going to meet the others. ¡°Well, if that isn¡¯t my little troublemaker.¡± A very familiar voice yelled from behind and made him almost jump in surprise. ¡°What? What¡¯s happening?¡± Tom spun around, and saw Maurice striding toward him. She had a smile on her face. ¡°I have a bone to pick with you.¡± She said happily, her tone not matching the more sobering contents of the sentence. Unable to prevent it his mind flashed to the history between them - the trait stone that she had inexplicably gifted him. It was the only reason he had got this invitation to try out for the Divine Champion¡¯s trial, but it had been at the expense of Boreas, her son. He hoped the adventurer was not regretting that decision. She smirked, and he could see the crow lines on her eyes. She was someone who smiled and laughed a lot. ¡°You¡¯re so adorable. You look like you¡¯re about to burst into tears.¡± ¡°What did I do?¡± he asked and, while he couldn¡¯t bring himself to regret using the trait stone, he prayed he hadn¡¯t created an enemy by accepting it. Having an adventurer as powerful as Maurice having a grudge against him would be problematic. Even having allies such as Dimitri and Everlyn on his side wouldn¡¯t negate the problems someone like that could create for him. ¡°It¡¯s okay, dearie. No need to panic,¡± she said hurriedly. ¡°You¡¯re my little troublemaker because Eden of the Green got word of the stone. She was extremely irate when I told her that not only did I no longer have it, but witnessed it being absorbed. For an instant, I thought that crazy bitch was going to kill me.¡± ¡°Eden?¡± Tom asked dumbly, knowing full well why Eden had been looking for such a trait stone. ¡°Eden¡­ as in the¡­¡± ¡°Yes, yes. That Eden. Don¡¯t look so wide eyed and amazed. She¡¯s not actually that impressive. Take away the heroes of humanity bit and that spat she had with the wador, and she hasn¡¯t done much more than me or any of the other top elites.¡± Tom clutched onto the unspoken context eager to change the subject. ¡°You¡¯re very powerful, aren¡¯t you?¡± She scowled slightly. ¡°Very? I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯m much more than just very - I¡¯m extremely powerful, incredibly so. Officially, I¡¯m only a twenty-third on the ladder, but I haven¡¯t had anywhere near the number of lucky encounters as the rest of them. Combat-wise, I¡¯m top ten for sure.¡± ¡°That¡¯s...¡± ¡°She still told me off. Can you believe it? The nerve of it. I¡¯m my own woman, I can do what I want.¡± Despite what she was saying, she sounded very defensive. ¡°You¡¯re not in trouble, are you?¡± ¡°No, dearie, I¡¯ll be fine. Eden¡¯s more bark than bite. Anyway, I have a wayward son to do some training with.¡± With a wave of her hand, she quickly marched away while Tom stood there, watching. Part of him wondered if he should tell Dimitri to pull off the search, but then again, given his aims, he would have been silly to pass on the opportunity to gain another trait. No, he would let it continue because who knew what Everlyn might find for him with her riches and connections? Her giving some of that to him now when he could leverage it into something even more substantial was probably going to be the best use of her funds. Chapter 72.2 – Complications In the dining hall, he met with the others, and they ended up playing bubbles. The tag was very different from the first time he had played it. Back then, they had operated at a distance from the machine, never getting within fifteen meters of it. Now that they were older, they played far closer, and joined into a game with eight- and nine-year-olds. Overall, they lost, and there was a number of older kids they couldn¡¯t touch. At least one of them was reincarnated, as he discovered when he was tagged. Not that he could tell the others to make them feel better. Briana was not happy at all about losing. They were, however right there when dinner was served, so they were first in line. As a rule, Tom disliked meal times. Except for Kang and Briana, he didn¡¯t want to get to know any of these kids, and, as a result he and Kang were the active loners of the year level, and they would have had basically no contact with anyone else. That was but for the fact, that amongst kids her age, Briana was a social butterfly and, because of her, Tom found himself learning the names and starting to feel for the other kids. It was frustrating, but there was nothing he could do. Briana was a mystery to him. She was weirdly confident and outgoing with other children, even if the moment an adult got involved she would clam up. The contrast was amusing. His eyes scanned the general bustle of activity, showing disinterest to dissuade Josh from talking to him. He noticed Eloise slipping through the doors. There was something about how she was carrying herself that piqued his interest. Despite trying to be sneaky, she walked with purpose, and there was a threatening glint to her eyes. He was instantly on guard, especially when he observed that she was heading straight for Joseph. Kang had stopped him from interfering last time, but from what he could gather, the back and forth between Eloise and that group had been continuous ever since. Eloise was not one to surrender, and this appeared to be another escalation. His instinct was to intercede and prevent the confrontation, but she was moving too fast. By the time he gauged her destination, it was too late, so he sat and observed. Kang¡¯s hand abruptly gripped his arm, his strength surprising. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other boy shaking his head. He had noticed the emerging issue, probably by tracing Tom¡¯s focus, and was taking steps to prevent Tom from exploding. Tom was torn about the best way to react. The logical action was to dampen his senses for a minute until the situation blew over. Close his eyes and ears and wait for Kang to shake him to tell him to come back to the real world. But he also wanted to watch what was about to happen. He needed to see how Eloise planned to strike upwards, and her picking on Joseph was not something that could spark his rage - only if the fighting went the other way. He could, at a minimum, watch the start safely, and then turn away if it got out of control in the other direction. Completely unnoticed by anyone at Joseph¡¯s table, Eloise snuck up right behind him, and then, with a savage smirk, poured a vial of liquid down the boy¡¯s back. The reaction was comical. First, Joseph slapped his neck, and a look of surprised shock transformed his face as he obviously confirmed the spreading wetness. For a moment, it looked like he was struggling to understand what was happening. His nose wrinkled, and, curiously, he sniffed more deeply, before immediately gagging like you would if you entered a particularly smelly alleyway, and one contaminated with rotting fish at that. A look of puzzlement crossed his face, and he moved his hand from his back to in front of his eyes. As he did so, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, agitating the clear liquid on his fingertips. Then he lifted the fingers toward his nose. Tom cringed in sympathy. He could see what was happening. With fingers just centimeters from his nose, Joseph inexplicably breathed in deeply. This time, he almost vomited in an involuntary reaction, and his tongue stuck out of his mouth as he gagged. A look of disgust crossed his face and deep-set confusion. It was like his mind was incapable of interpreting what was happening. He thrust his hand away from his face in disgust and then stared dumbly as it began to sizzle. Then the full implications of what had been done to him registered. He roared and jumped up, only to get tangled with his friend who had the same idea. They both crashed to the ground. Eloise, meanwhile, was running away while laughing in delight. She was making a beeline for the nearest door. Presumably she had a bolt hole she had set up. Joseph scrambled to his feet and turned in her direction, but it was too late. Foam was boiling out from the back of his top and the hand that he had smelled was on his friend¡¯s waist in the midst of a similar reaction. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Kang demanded having stood. Tom realised he was also on his feet. Eyes wide, he stared in shock at Joseph, and then relaxed slightly as he processed what he was observing. Unlike what he had briefly feared, it probably wasn¡¯t an acid. Then, because he was always aware of his surroundings, he noticed who else was standing; Corrine, the guy who did his last testing, and a couple of other older kids that he had tentatively identified as reincarnators had also jumped up. It seemed like every reincarnator had reacted, and none of the normal children. Tom could feel his cheeks reddening in communal embarrassment. It was terrible. Forcefully, he grabbed one of the jugs of water and pretended that he hadn¡¯t stood in response to the commotion, but rather everything he had done was just a normal part of his day. He had stood up because he was thirsty, and the tables were too large for a six-year-old to reach the vessels when they were placed in the center of the tables like they were. Messily, he poured the water into a cup and drank it, and then immediately retreated into the contender¡¯s room. He would play it by ear, but this was intended to be a brief visit. He just wanted to do a sanity check on how everyone else was reacting to the commotion. His eyes were fixed on the main monitor, and he was unsurprised when his avatar stared at the unfolding drama around Joseph with unabashed curiosity. Focusing on the drama was going to be seen as natural. His perfect acting self was doing it, as was everyone else who were busily staring and laughing at the unfortunate kid. With the path forward validated, Tom took control back. Joseph was, of course, distressed. Only a few seconds had passed, and the foam had expanded far enough to start inhibiting his range of motions. Tom had a suspicion about the nature of what Eloise had used, and he suspected that Joeseph¡¯s problems were only going to get worse. That minor consideration aside, the memory of how many of the reincarnators had reacted troubled Tom. It made sense, he wasn¡¯t disputing that, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t problematic. The only positive bit about the situation was that Danger Sense had not triggered. But just in case, and conscious of both his known and unknown titles uniquely positioning him as the first line of defense, he scanned the rafters. Nothing was lurking up there unseen; at least, nothing that he could detect. Given his many advantages, he was confident that the room was safe. Kang sat down heavily next to him, a grimace briefly on his face before it vanished. Tom knew what he had done, and he agreed with it. These sorts of situations, where someone was being laughed at rather than with, was not one that was easy to act appropriately in. Tom took the hint Kang had given him, and retreated into his contender¡¯s room, this time intending to stay until the scene fully played out. His body was laughing at Joseph, who was by this point completely cocooned. Joseph¡¯s face was making interesting distressed expressions that alternated between annoyance at the constraints and reaction to the stink which had cleared everyone else away. Despite how quickly the foam had spread, neither him nor his friend appeared to be in any danger. Something, probably community fate, had left the area around his face clear but it was also possible that one of the many adult volunteers had interceded magically to prevent any issues. Tom didn¡¯t care. Internally, he was cursing his own quick reaction. It was not acceptable. He needed to do better, and, if he got alone time with the others, he would remind them of that, too. Eloise had played a simple prank, and it was almost enough to reveal their identities. Collectively, it was a debacle. His reaction had been too fast, but Corrine and the other older kids doing the same was worse. Tom at least had the excuse that Eloise was something of a friend, and so, of course, he was going to be more cognisant of her presence. He watched as Dimitri approached the two boys who were encased in foam. The chief caretaker did not look happy. ¡°Dimitri, can you fix this?¡± Joseph begged. ¡°She sucker-punched me.¡± The older man frowned down at him. ¡°No, Joseph, you should have known better. I don¡¯t condone what Eloise did. But there are rules.¡± He shook his finger at the trapped boys. ¡°If you¡¯re going to pick on someone from a younger year level, you need to accept the consequences. I have no idea who Eloise sourced this from, but it was clearly from an adult.¡± ¡°Her not-parents.¡± ¡°Not them,¡± Dimitri interrupted. ¡°They¡¯re over near the wador territory, and, given their contribution to this town, if they had done this, I would not reprimand them. They have a right to look after their daughter. But no, it wasn¡¯t them. But I know what this unpleasant stuff does.¡± He tapped the substance that constrained them. ¡°It¡¯s called Aerated Hardening Foam, and was only recently added to our shop. It¡¯s a mostly-failed combat potion with a well-known half-life. Give it two hours, and this should unstick enough for you to pull yourself out.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be sleep time by then. Can¡¯t you make it go faster? This is unfair.¡± ¡°Yes, it will be late,¡± Dimitri agreed. ¡°Consider that your penance.¡± With a jaunty step, he walked away, having clearly enjoyed the interaction. ¡°This isn¡¯t fair,¡± Joseph yelled. ¡°She blindsided us. Let me out of here. Please, I need to get out.¡± He struggled, but apart from causing veins to pop out on his face, his attempts were having no impact. The foam was even stuck to the ground, so he couldn¡¯t even rock from side to side. While they begged, threatened, and carried on, dinner continued as normal, with the exception of two whole tables being abandoned because of the apparent smell the foam gave off.. At some point, one of the adults used a silencing spell which helped. Whenever Tom looked at the two trapped boys, all he could see were red faces and open mouths as they tried futilely to get attention. Eventually, it was time to sleep. He went into the contender room and looked at his status sheet. It was one that he had constructed manually by incessantly using the ritual status screen every opportunity he had. The errors and holes in his understanding were glaring but, given the constraints, he thought he had done a good job. ¡°Display my created status on the wall,¡± he ordered. Chapter 73.1 –Extra Sessions Tom watched as his carefully recorded profile appeared on the wall. This was not official in any sense of the word, and bits of it were possibly out of date, but it was the most faithful reproduction of his status sheet he could produce from the use of the ritual status artefact in the isolation rooms. The first section was about his attributes. Biologically, he had only just turned six, and the number reflected that weakness. Attributes ¨C Overall Rank 0 Strength: 11 (+1)¡ªRank 0 Vitality: 10 (+2)¡ªRank 0 Agility: 9 (+2)¡ªRank 0 Magic: 4 ¡ªRank 0 Mana: 8 (unattributed), 32 (Precognition, variable and requires active maintenance that can be sustained for around four hours per day) Fate: 43 Affinities Precognition ¨C 95, Earth ¨C 87, Lightning ¨C 87 (+3), Wood Shaping ¨C 78, Healing ¨C 71 His base attributes had crept up slightly and were now approaching the peak of tier-zero. They would likely reach the bottom rung of tier one once he got another two points in strength. Given his age and the way children matured, he expected to hit that milestone when his next growth spurt occurred - an event which, as far as he was concerned, was long overdue. He had gone from being of average height amongst his peers to shorter than average, a fact that irrationally annoyed him. He knew it was timing, but being amongst the shortest, even if it would only be for a brief period, was annoying. Even if the gains were modest, the two points in agility represented a significant upgrade in his combat potential. Those simple numbers on the screen signified an increase in body control of thirty percent, a boost that had allowed him to get into the Divine Champions trial. Given how uncoordinated this body still felt, he couldn¡¯t wait to grow older and grab more improvements to his base attributes. His eyes scrolled further down the wall. Spells Touch Heal (10, +1) ¨C Tier 0 Spark (27) ¨C Tier 0 The numbers in brackets represented the level of the spell. Touch Heal only being ten annoyed him. He was used to it being far higher, and having thankfully already achieved those heights, regaining them would be easier than it would be for someone who had acquired the spell for the first time. He had boosted Spark as high as he had by stretching his control when he had first gained it, and that, Tom realised, was something he needed to do for his healing spell as well. Levels were not an academic measure in Existentia. They were the opposite. They mattered in the real world. Promoting Touch Heal¡¯s level by twenty to reach where Spark¡¯s was would increase the potency of the spell by more than eighty percent. In a life-or-death battle, that was basically an extra life. Even if he wasn¡¯t going to receive a threshold bonus until level thirty-two, every level increased the efficiency of Touch Heal, which meant given the benefits, it was not something he could ignore. He would have to work on it. Here, in the artificial confines of the orphanage, he wasn¡¯t battling hordes of monsters on a daily basis. Progress was not going to come from the default benefit of surviving. Instead, unless he actively sought the confrontation, he would never get hurt sufficiently to progress. That was an issue he had to address. Stagnation in something so critical was unacceptable. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He continued on to review the next section. Skills Spear Mastery (5, +4) ¨C Tier 0 Instant Strike (1) ¨C Tier 1 Magic Breaking Power Strike (1) - Tier 1 Advanced Danger Sense (10, +1) ¨C Tier 2, Psychic Tracking (2, +1) ¨C Tier 1 Crafting & Miscellaneous Skills Social Silence (1) ¨C Tier 7 Manipulate Precognition Mana (2, +1) ¨C Tier 1, Store Precognition Mana (2, +1) ¨C Tier 1, Convert Unaspected mana to Precognition Affinity (1) ¨C Tier 1, Create Precognition Attuned Mana (3, +2) ¨C Tier 1 Living Wood Growth (1) ¨C Tier 2 There had been a slight increase in a couple of his skills, but nothing particularly noteworthy. On the other hand, he was happy his crafting related abilities were being improved by use. Eventually, those levels would plateau, unless he started using them for more variable purposes, but for now he was happy with their progress. It was not like it was worth investing dedicated time into them. None of them were critical; they were all a long way away from reaching a level where he would get a threshold benefit from raising them, and there was no way he was ever going to be a crafter. He moved on to examining the next section. Traits DEUSs Chosen (Tier 0)*, Speed Matching Titles Hunted Reincarnated, Competition Shaker (I), Evolution Master, Complex Conspiracy Discoverer, Sage of Fate (Earth), Unique Skill Creator, Reveal Hidden Threats, Trial Speedster (IX) Special Titles: Underage Skill Development (II) ¨C 15 skill points accumulated with next threshold level at 16. Current benefit is 1 free point every four levels. ???? Underage Spell Development ¨C Current progress zero. ???? Underage Trait Development ¨C Current Progress zero. ???? Underage Title Development ¨C Note this probably doesn¡¯t exist as legendary title should have triggered it if it was a thing. *Locked until the earth age of ten and will not accumulate questions before that time Basically, he had identified the likely presence of four underage titles based on the skill title that he knew existed, one for each of the different types of abilities. He was interested in tracking them separately from all of his base titles. In Tom¡¯s mind, there were two metrics of success for his childhood years. The first was how far he could raise his general combat proficiency, and the second were these special titles. If he could upgrade the first three, and he had no evidence that they didn¡¯t exist, five times, he would be receiving six free attributes with every class level. Given skills had already been upgraded almost three times, that was not beyond the realm of possibility. That was bringing each of them to level five, but, if he could push to upgrade them six times instead, then his return would be twelve free points per level. At that point, to match someone¡¯s rank he would only need five percent of their experience. If someone took twenty years to become powerful, he would be able to do it in two. Give him a decade, and he would be far more powerful than a human without the supporting titles even if they had seventy years in Existentia. That type of in-built advantage was how he could make a difference in the thirty years he had. Chapter 73.2 –Extra Sessions He would even be able to catch up with Everlyn. While he didn¡¯t know the particulars of her build, he was sure that she only had, at best, a couple of free attribute points from her titles at the time that he knew her. She had probably since upgraded her class to something mythical, but even if that was the case, she had a hundred levels where she was getting seven or eight attributes rather than the twenty per class level that Tom was going to hopefully end up with. The promise these titles gave him was truly a tantalising prospect. Better still, he was confident in his assumptions. So far, Underage Skill Development had progressed exactly how he had initially predicted it to progress. He hadn¡¯t proven that the Spell and Trait versions existed, but he was certain about the Spell one, and, despite the early progress with Skills, he expected Spells to ultimately progress faster, because he had a road map to teach himself tier-three and four of healing, earth and lightning magics, which would rapidly grow his Spell Points. Contrasting this with the skills, he only had access to a guide for tier-one and zero versions, which meant accumulating a large volume of points to contribute toward the title would be difficult. A single tier-four skill was worth sixteen tier-one versions, and a tier-six one thirty-six. Him developing a spell to tier-six was a possibility, because that is what the guides in the isolation room went up to. That meant that for spells he could imagine upgrading the title seven times, which would require two hundred and fifty-six points. For spells, that sort of outcome was possible. For skills, if he was limited to tier-one versions mastering that many, it was impossible. The title version that he had been hopeful to uncover probably didn¡¯t exist, given he hadn¡¯t even received the first level for getting a legendary title. It was possible that the title version differed from the skill one and used a different metric, like the absolute number of titles, and ignored rarity. If so, then once he started developing the resistance titles, it would be awarded to him. The final section of the sheet was not one that had been proven by the status screen ritual. Instead, it was based on his informed speculation, but was probably the most important section from Tom¡¯s perspective. It contained the unknowns which were troubling him. Puzzling Abilities. Curse / Blessing ¨C Uncontrollable Anger ¨C Triggered by witnessing injustice and creates a berserker rage that increases attributes by 50% to ???. Trait / Title ¨C Immune to Mental Affects ¨C Blocks all mind spells up to tier 5, continued but reduced effectiveness on higher tiered abilities. Trait / Title ¨C See Through Illusions ¨C Pierce all illusions up to tier 5 (?). Has continued but reduced effectiveness on higher tiered abilities. Trait / Title ¨C Give Me More Stuff ¨C Something that makes it more likely for adults to give me valuable items which appear to be tailored to what I need. Power unknown, but significant. The first and last were the ones that he had the least information on, and the middle two he had been able to quantify somewhat with Dimitri¡¯s aid. While the Uncontrollable Anger definitely existed, there were lots of details that remained uncertain. For example, anecdotally, it felt like the longer he had had without an event occurring, the more the pressure would build up. The moment anything happened, that would trigger the spell the extent it was magnified by was increased by the weeks since he had last blown up. Likewise, the level of the buff it granted was an unknown quantity. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Give Me More Stuff was even more vague. There was no true evidence that it even existed. It was based on him being gifted unexpected objects from adults. In total, he had three gifts. Two of them were significantly more precious than what any other child had received, including those with not-parents tipping the scales. His good fortune could have been purely random, but Tom doubted it. Such an outcome beggared belief, but it was possible. From the latest conversation with Maurice and the earlier ones with Dimitri, he understood how valuable the trait he had gotten truly was. For it to have been gifted to him without some guiding force influencing events felt too improbable to be real, especially in the context of him also receiving a boost to his lightning affinity. This gift had almost caused the other adults to resort to fighting to stop him from getting it. One of those outcomes by itself might have been a giant stroke of fortune, and wouldn¡¯t have been worth interrogating. But two of them? To Tom¡¯s sensibilities, that was too much to be a coincidence, especially if you added the third gift. While it hadn¡¯t been that expensive, the training ring had been a weird gift for a then-five-year-old, but for Tom¡¯s future it was possibly as valuable as the others. Despite not being as flashy, it was a significant piece of evidence that he possessed a title or trait like Give Me More Stuff. Tom considered himself to be logical, and that part of his mind scoffed at him imagining that he possessed such a powerful ability. However, there were issues that suggested him having something like that was not outlandish. There were the inconsistencies in his memories, his ridiculous precognition affinity, and the way everyone who discovered his true identity treated him. It was possible that he could have earned a talent like the gifting ability. Not that it mattered. He had jotted the possibility down, and time would prove the accuracy of his speculation. The days passed, and he watched the time on the Contender Challenger reduce until there was less than a week to go. Most days, he felt sick as he wondered if it was going to be enough. He was not one for self-delusions. While he had qualified, it had been an achievement gained by hitting the bare minimums rather than smashing past them. It was possible that all of his opponents would be better than him. Every possible waking moment was dedicated to training, and, during the periods when he was stuck with others and his freedoms restricted, he actively focused on better understanding the intricacies of the orphanage for the first time. He wanted to know if there were any more training resources, like the lairs that he was using twice a week to hone his skills. His instincts screamed at him that he needed an extra something to get through the coming challenge. The news was not good. His careful observations didn¡¯t reveal anything new. They only confirmed that the longer sessions in the isolation room, which he required to train his resistances, didn¡¯t become compulsory until he turned twelve. While he understood why that made sense from a psychological perspective, it did not gel with his plans. His aim was to acquire resistance titles, and only starting that process with one session a week at age twelve meant he wouldn¡¯t physically have time to get all of them. That night, as he entered the empty corridors on his way to train against the orcs, his eyes were drawn to the isolation rooms. Most of them were shut and needed to be signed into if he wanted to enter, but the ones on the ground floor were open, something he had noticed many times before but had not bothered to investigate. Today, he wanted to check if they were the solution to his problem. Chapter 73.3 –Extra Sessions Given the planning that had gone into everything else, he was sure this was his solution to the need to have access to isolation rooms for an extended period. He slipped through one of the open doors and glanced around curiously. The moment the door shut he felt the usual magic of the isolation room trigger, but, rather than the brief burst that normally happened, this one was extended and had more weight to it. Identification spells, a mixture of visible and invisible, flashed through the room. Some of the magic physically touched him and then stuck to him. In moments he was covered with multiple-coloured lines that crisscrossed with such density that every centimetre of him was highlighted. With eyes wide-open, he examined the room, and everything was tagged the same. Furniture, books, toy boxes - they were all painted with the lines but that was not what Tom focused on. Instead, he made sure there were no unexpected shapes; the magic was clearly designed to reveal invisible entities. With his abilities to pierce illusions and his precognition affinity-fuelled Danger Sense, Tom understood that he personally didn¡¯t need the visual display, but others would, and he wasn¡¯t about to allow his arrogance to stop him from using the extra check. There was a ding as the magical checks stopped. The screen to the left of the door lit up. Words immediately started to scroll across it. Infra-Red Test ¨C One biological entity identified Red Light Test ¨C One biological entity identified. Around thirty similar messages were displayed, covering all the wavelengths up to X-rays. Then the nature of the words changed. Presence of Shadow Magic ¨C Zero Presence of Spatial Distortions ¨C Zero Mana Storage Devices ¨C One (Internal to Biological entity.) After displaying fifty of those summary messages in quick succession, the tests designed to ensure there were no enemy spies stopped. The depths that the room went to were impressive, and Tom wondered if those assassins would have been able to protect themselves against the huge barrage of tests. They obviously hadn¡¯t been caught by them, but had they been driven out of these rooms? Had this single location in the orphanage been safe? Nope, Tom thought. Those particular natives, given their experience and probable classes, were too good. All these checks wouldn¡¯t have been enough against them. They would possess the skills and spells to circumvent these hundred or so tests. It didn¡¯t matter how amazing the defences seemed; they were only mechanical checks, and a talented, dedicated opponent, given time, would be able to counter them all. However, he was still impressed by the depths of the precautions. They would definitely protect against a more limited infiltration. The screen flashed a new message. Would you like this session to continue with Private or Public settings? Curiously, he selected private. Private session selected. ---Switching to off-line power. ---Turning off monitoring. ---Safety precautions disabled. ---Additional scrying wards implemented. *Note, if excessive healing energy is required on-line power may need to be re-enabled. Tom¡¯s eyebrows rose at the safety precautions being disabled. He hadn¡¯t known that the isolation rooms had such a feature, but, in hindsight, it wasn¡¯t that surprising. How long would you like this session to last? There were numerous options listed under the question that ranged from five minutes to a full eight hours. Tom smiled in relief. This room would be perfect for him, and, to test the situation fully, he selected the shortest period possible. The room locked, and, almost immediately, Tom regretted pressing the button. Five minutes when you wanted to be out killing stuff was a long time. On another night, he would be back to start training his resistances in earnest, but not now. Today he had orcs to kill, and he nearly ran out the door when it finally unlocked, such had been the buildup of his boredom. Fifteen minutes later, he stood armed and ready at the threshold to the orc lair. This was not the first time he had come down here, and he understood the enemy in detail. They were a different type of threat than the bats. The orcs were powerful, at least to someone at his level, even if they were slow even by Earth standards. Most healthy adults on Earth without access to the attribute boost that Existentia brought would have been able to defeat these monsters in a one on one battle, providing they didn¡¯t panic and they weren¡¯t fighting one of the orcs with an actual skill. Tom wasn¡¯t an adult. He was in a child¡¯s body, which made the clashes problematic. They needed a different strategy and layout than what he had chosen against the bats. Fighting these creatures without armour would be a mistake. The orcs with skills could occasionally move so fast that fully evading their attacks was a pipe dream. But nor could he wear a full set of armour, because attempting to do so would slow him too much. His compromise was a mixed leather and metal breastplate, which covered the vitals. It was to stop attacks that could do lethal damage to his torso, but nothing else. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. With Touch Heal fully operational, even outcomes like losing an arm did not trouble him. If he got the arm quick enough, he could reattach it. Against this particular type of opponent Spark, represented a get out of jail card not to mention the powerful protection Dimitri had gifted him. In the context of those advantages, the relatively light armour made sense. Two steps would take him into the lair, and, before he began, he utilised his Dampen Senses ring. Instantly, smell and hearing vanished, and he also shut his eyes. He would go in blind in the truest sense of the words to train his skills further. With none of the normal five senses guiding him, he strode forward, confident that his abilities were going to protect him. His Advanced Danger Sense would not stop him from walking into a wall, but there were half-formed skills at play that would help him. Tom had tested the limits of that sense, and it was impressive. Logically, it worked, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to fully trust it fully. As he strode forward, he swung his spear ahead of him like a blind man would, but, despite him walking through twisted tunnels for over ten minutes, his spear never touched anything. He had a sixth sense for where the walls were, even if nothing had crystallised into an ability. Abruptly, Danger Sense spiked. Without hesitation, he sprang to the side while using Psychic Tracking on the beast that was attacking him. Its shoulder brushed against his elbow as it rushed past him, almost spinning him off his feet. He winced, then registered a second spike of warning and threw himself forward. He tagged the new monster, and then he was tracking two enemies simultaneously. There didn¡¯t seem to be a third, which was good, because his skill was limited to two opponents at the current point in time. Psychic Tracking was only good to highlight an opponent¡¯s centre of mass, but that gave him enough of an advantage against these monsters to allow him to fight them blind. With light feet, forcing his eyes to remain tightly shut, he started dancing between the enemies. Knowledge built-up from weeks of fighting this specific monster type allowed him to predict their movements. His spear swung to intercept blows, and then, when he guessed there would be an opening, he would stab forward with his version of Power Strike, making every blow far more deadly than they would otherwise be. The small wounds Tom blindly delivered added up, and, after four minutes, one of them finally succumbed to their injuries. With only a single opponent to contend with, Tom ramped his aggression up, and the second died shortly after. The entire fight had lasted a little over five minutes, and he was breathing heavily. It had been a successful bout, but not a perfect one. He had suffered two injuries. One had been a graze on his leg with the only notable damage being that inflicted upon his clothes. The second one, however, had been more serious. He had only partially blocked a skill-empowered strike, and the sword had gotten through. It had hurt his chest area, and he was breathing shallowly as a result. The blow had struck him in the middle of his chest and done significant damage to his breastplate. His probing fingers found dented metal and split leather in a gash that was over ten centimetres long. It stretched from his sternum to his shoulder. A combination of touch and the diagnosis ability that was coupled with his healing allowed him to find and draw out the leather that had been pushed under his skin line. Pulling the leather slithers out without anaesthetic hurt enough that he had to clench his jaw to stop himself from crying out, but in a few moments it was over and then his healing magic removed the injury and the pain. The breast plate was not ruined but now had a significant area of weakness that he would have to monitor and protect during the coming fights. For a battle against only two orcs, it was not an auspicious start to his training. Frowning, he continued forward while reviewing the fight. Technically, his performance had been far better than the injury suffered had implied. There was no single moment, including when he got hurt, where he had better options available. Given his handicaps and limited skills, he had done as well as he could ever have expected to do so. Maybe I was pushing myself too hard, he mused to himself. Then he shook his head at that thought. Nope, he decided. A few scratches in the name of training were perfectly acceptable. Even if the sword blow had nearly reached to the bone, it hadn¡¯t quite made it, and he trusted Danger Sense to react earlier to protect him if his life was ever truly in danger. As though his thoughts had summoned it, Danger Sense blared almost at full volume, indicating a stronger enemy ¨C or, more likely, a group of enemies - were about to assault him. Tom, acutely aware of the risk of hostile fate being weaponised against him, immediately opened his eyes to equalise the odds against whatever he was facing. The illuminous moss in these caves was dense, which, while not providing light as such, did enough to frame the four enemy silhouettes that were coming at him. There were two spear users, a sword and shield orc, and, finally, one wielding an axe. He was in one of the larger caves, as that was the only place the mobs of monsters congregated. The cavern was five metres high and circular, and almost twenty metres across, which gave it a similar area to a basketball court, even if it had a different shape. The monsters had started on the other side, and all four were rushing him. Clinically, he focused on making the use of his spear forms. He danced around the creatures, using his superior speed compared to that of the hulking brutes to make sure he wasn¡¯t cornered. This was training, so he deliberately used the quick step technique every chance he got. Without a skill backing it, the motion was a hindrance to the battle, as it interrupted the precise footwork that experts had developed over thousands, if not millions, of hours, but he did it anyway. A little inefficiency now was an acceptable cost for long-term gain. The orcs were stupid, and, very quickly, he managed to position himself so only one could threaten him. Without hesitation, he flexed Spark. His magic zapped the orc immediately after it had lunged at him. The electricity struck the leading leg, and caused all of the muscles in the thigh area to spasm. It was a minor impediment, but it distracted it for a moment and prevented it from stepping back neatly to a spot where the others could cover it. He used the quarter of a second his magic had bought him to lunge forward. His Power Strike-enhanced spear ripped out the creature¡¯s throat. Then, as he danced backwards, the mortally wounded orc followed him for three steps before collapsing to its knees, its brain shutting down in seconds because no blood was reaching it. The fight was reduced to three on one, and, without the self-imposed handicap to his vision, it was an easy fight. The orcs were slow, and had no resistances against lightning magic. A few more carefully placed bolts in the midst of the spinning, flashing, and striking weapons turned the remainder of the fight into a forgone conclusion. One tripped, and his spear went through its eye; another lost its sword as its hand spasmed at the same time as Tom parried a blow. The force of their weapons colliding along with its fumble sent the blade clattering away. Lacking a weapon, even with the defence of its shield, it was easy to conquer. The last one, the axe fighter, died shortly after, because a one-on-one between him and an orc was not a fair contest. While they outranked him, his technical skill level was so much higher that ending the fight was simple. Tom smiled at the end of the battle, and then shut his eyes once more and continued on his way. There were more orcs to kill. More training to complete. As he hunted his next prey, he hoped that he would mostly find singles and duos, because he really wanted to advance his blind fighting abilities. Chapter 74.1 – Resistance Training The next night, Tom snuck out from his bed the moment he thought he wouldn¡¯t be noticed. Barely an hour has passed since the lights had gone into night mode, and he wasn¡¯t certain everyone was asleep. On the other hand, they would have to have been watching carefully to have spotted him, and six-year-olds didn¡¯t do that. He had been tired all day, and most of him acknowledged that what he was doing was stupid. Ideally, he would be catching up on sleep, but he had an itch. He didn¡¯t want to drop the ball, and the fear of delay meant he had to get his resistance training started. The idea was stupid, but acknowledging that fact hadn¡¯t stopped him from leaving his bed. He was going to start the process today, because he didn¡¯t want to keep delaying; plus, pushing himself like this might have some minor benefits. From his first life in Existentia, he knew there were lots of skills available to both manage and reduce the need for sleep, and it was possible his nighttime activities might help him reacquire some of them. Once he reached the ground floor, he was surprised to discover that, of the four isolation rooms, one set of the doors was firmly shut. Tom stared at them. That change was like a flashing neon light that said something suspicious is happening here. He almost abandoned his plan to use the isolation rooms immediately, but then he remembered the hidden cupboards. He narrowed his eyes and focused internally to communicate his intentions. The door wavered, shifted positions, and, as he watched with raised eyebrows, it reverted to the normal open state. Silently, he snorted. Of course, that was how it worked. The designers of this place had thought of everything. When you shut the door, it created an illusion of it remaining unoccupied by making it look like the door remained open. It was only his abnormal ability that allowed him to pierce the illusion. It showed what was really there, while everyone else walking past would have no idea. While forcing his title to remain inactive, he tried to move toward the one that he knew was occupied, but his eyes kept drifting to its neighbour. That, he thought, was the one that he should be using. Tom shivered at the subtle compulsion that was in play; with a simple internal wish, he reactivated his ability, and the desire to go elsewhere vanished. He could see the shut door once more. It was an impressive magical setup, but would do nothing against the assassins. But Tom guessed that wasn¡¯t the point of it. The risk of assassins being physically present in the building was managed separately. This was a protection for what was the more insidious threat to a reincarnator¡¯s identity. Namely, the risk that enemies with clairvoyance abilities would borrow the eyes and senses of normal people and discover reincarnators that way. These minor illusions were almost certainly a hundred percent effective against all the children and volunteers that wandered the corridors. Tom had no way of confirming it now, but he was sure that everyone who had abilities that let them see through the illusionary defences would have additional protections against being used in an enemy¡¯s scrying spell. Why the default was to use this rather than just having the doors shut was a mystery, but he suspected it was probably to allow a person in Dimitri¡¯s position to track what was happening in the orphanage better. Once he was safely locked into his own isolation room, Tom quickly built his makeshift ladder to access the hidden cupboards. A minute later, he had a vial of pinkish acid in his hot little hands. As per instructions, he measured out two drops into a full beaker of water. The pink, super-concentrated substance landed in the water and dispersed, leaving a colourless transparent liquid that looked innocent. Tom knew it was anything but that. With a mini-shudder, as he thought about exactly what he was about to do, he completed the final preparations. First, he stripped off his clothes to give himself easy access to his body. Then he sat right up next to the healing crystal. ¡°Let¡¯s do this,¡± he said. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Touch Heal turned off his nerves, and then he poured the liquid over his legs and left arm. The instant the liquid touched the skin, it started to blacken, and the sharp scent of noxious chemicals assaulted his nose. Another tweak with Touch Heal switched off the scent of smell and removed the issue. He sat there quietly and observed the war being waged between the acid and his healing. As a layer of skin was burnt away, new growth replaced it in a tug of war that kept the acid from burning deeply into his body. His mana dropped precariously, and the acid started to win in spots; without hesitation, he drew healing from the crystal that he was leaning up against. Having seen the specifications of the off-line batteries, he was confident that it would have enough juice for the entire session, so there was no need to devote energy to using it efficiently. Within a short amount of time, he realised he was bored. Attempting this with the ability to turn off the pain was a massive cheat. While being very careful not to get acid on the papers, he reviewed the next set of spells he wanted to develop. The current spell he was aiming for was called Lightning Lance. It was tier-three, and it could add a powerful long-range option to his battle abilities. There were over a dozen intermediate steps to obtaining it, but each of the spell forms was an advancement of the Spark spell he had already mastered, so he expected it to go quickly. While he couldn¡¯t really spare any magic to cast the spell properly, given the circumstances, dedicating a single point to manipulate the raw mana and create the first stepping-stone spell was acceptable. The spell was too weak to be anything but an intermediate step. He glanced at the description and wrinkled his nose. It definitely wasn¡¯t going to contribute to combat effectiveness. Spell: Lightning Bolt ¨C Tier 1 A short-range offensive spell. It only had a range of five metres, which was barely longer than the range he had with Spark, and underperformed compared to his pet spell on all the other different power metrics, including density, penetration, max energy invested, and power-to-mana ratio. It was a tier higher for that slight extra range it granted, and for no other reasons. This was not a spell to be happy about, beyond it being a step towards something greater. The beaker he was using to apply acid ran out. ¡°Under twenty minutes,¡± he muttered to himself when he checked the time. That was ten minutes faster than expected. He shrugged. It was good news. If he could finish things sooner, that was a bonus, and there were still more efficiencies to be extracted. Maybe he could finish this in four instead of eight hours. His healing capacity hadn¡¯t really been challenged through the process, and the draw per minute on the healing crystal had been far lower than he had forecast at all points. There was definitely some scope to ramp things up. For the next round of acid, Tom decided he would keep the current dilution, but he would apply it to his torso as well as his legs. That was going to accelerate matters. Hours passed, and he increased both the concentration and the area that he was applying it to. He was now splashing it on his back and front. With the ability to suppress his nerves, it was completely painless, and nothing like what had happened with his first venom title, which had been almost a day of continual agony. Finally, after five hours of practicing Lightning Bolt, but without even attempting to cast it once, there was a ding. Tom¡¯s disquiet deepened when he checked the time and his acid consumption together. It was far higher than expected. The process he was following was clearly flawed. Each step had gone faster than expected, but he had ended up using seventy percent more acid. Either the relatively high dilution levels had an unknown penalty, or he hadn¡¯t been applying the substance aggressively enough to get the most out of the deadly acid. While he wanted to jump up and confirm that he had got the title, he remained where he was until the sizzling of his skin had reduced to nearly nothing. Only then did he move to check the ritual status screen. Title: Acid Resistance (I): 1% chance to gain 30 seconds of immunity when exposed to an acid. All acids do 2% less damage. Awarded for: Being subjected to topical exposure of sufficient acid to kill you thirty-two times over in a single day and surviving. He stared at the outcome of over five hours of effort. He had hoped the level one title would be a fifth as powerful as the level five version, but that had proven to be a forlorn hope. Instead of being twenty percent as strong, it was closer to three or four percent. The nature of the protection offered was also different. The venom title granted the chance to gain immunity to a specific venom, while this one offered a chance to be immune to all acids over a brief period. Overall, he guessed he shouldn¡¯t be disappointed. Even small advantages added up over time. This current title was almost useless, and all he could do was to hope that the presence of thirty-one different types of acids meant that he could upgrade his title as expected. It was three a.m., so he returned to bed to grab an extra five hours of sleep. Chapter 74.2 – Resistance Training He woke late and found himself lethargic and irritable all day. The next night, he repeated the process. Kang elbowed him for the third time in the morning lessons. ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± he protested while wiping away the drool that pooled from his mouth. ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± he repeated. The other boy glared at him. ¡°This is ridiculous. Get more sleep.¡± Tom wanted to argue, but he knew Kang was right. Him sleeping in class was suspicious, and if there were human spies, he needed to avoid standing out. It felt fundamentally wrong to be even considering the possibility, and he couldn¡¯t comprehend how anyone would actively work against reincarnators, given the stakes, given that the extinction of the entire species was on the line. However, nor could he fully discount the possibility. With so many examples of betrayal during human history, it was easy to imagine someone being turned. A lover abducted, a misguided sense of revenge, or just plain stupidity leading them to believe that helping the enemy eliminate reincarnators was in humanity¡¯s best interest were all motives that could lead to such selfish, degenerate behaviour. It was horrifying that he could imagine so many ways that the unthinkable could happen. But he could envisage it, so it was a definite possibility, and so he had to assume they were there and take things more carefully. For the next two days, he forced himself to act normally and sleep through the night. With only three days before the contender challenge, he knew he was running out of time. He fought the orcs in the hope of creating a new skill that could help him in the coming competition, but there were no welcome dings. Spear Mastery and Power Strike both improved by a single level, but these were not the gains he was hoping to make. The next night, he visited the isolation room. It was as boring as his last session, but he completed it, and, following the ding, brought the new title up. Title: Acid Resistance (II): 3% chance to gain 35 seconds of immunity when exposed to an acid. All acids do 5% less damage to your skin. Awarded for: Being subjected to topical exposure of sufficient acid to kill you thirty-two times over in a single day and surviving on three separate occasions with three different acids. He sighed in relief at the details that had been recorded. The title had upgraded, as predicted, and had probably tripled in power. With the growth, he could see that, when he upgraded it to level five, it was going to be as strong as his previous venom title. Something like all acid damage reduced by twenty-five percent, and a similar chance to get immunity for a couple of minutes when exposed to an acid source. If that was the end point, it would be a valuable title. He had also managed to get extra data on how the process worked in terms of the quantities required. With the middle acid, to ensure the session qualified, he had almost emptied the bottle and must have used close to seventy lethal doses, but with the latest acid, he had stopped when he had heard the ding. Instead of the seventy percent extra, he had only required twenty percent more than expected. He had gone for a massive overkill on that second attempt. The fact he had been pouring the acid over his back and covering all of himself simultaneously was probably the reason for the improved efficiency between his latest session and his first. Going forward, he intended to adjust his consumption accordingly. He left to sleep. Then, with the deadline coming, he slept through the night without attempting extra-curricular activities. The following night, the internal alarm clock he had set went off an hour before the contender challenge was due to start. Giving himself an hour meant he could sneak down to the armoury via the metal door and then back to the isolation room. Dressed in full armour and a real spear in his hands, he waited patiently for the countdown to finish. He spent the last five seconds in the contender¡¯s system room, just in case that was required. Three¡­ This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Two¡­ One¡­ The world shivered and, briefly, all he could see was blackness. When the disorientating sensation faded, Tom found himself in a far larger room. The ceiling was stretching twenty metres high above him and the walls were more than forty metres away. It reminded him of a throne room created for a species bigger than humans, with lots of polished marble and elaborate flourishes in the stonework. He was wearing a basic set of clothes that felt like they had zero defensive value and the weapon and armour he had gone to the trouble of sourcing had not come through with him. He wasn¡¯t surprised. Then there was another shift in reality, and he was no longer alone. He and everyone else were arranged symmetrically around a massive circle that must have had a diameter of over forty metres. He had a dedicated space that was a couple of adult body lengths across. The symmetry let him know instantly that thirty-two people were here, and, while he was tiny compared to the assigned area, some of the other contenders filled their space completely. They were just that bulky. His new body possessed no skills that he could use to accurately assess others, apart from his ability to sense fate and a general ability to weigh the power of his opponents. He utilised both in tandem to get a feel for those assembled. Around half had a fate level of between ten and twenty, which, if their physical attributes matched their fate, would place that group at rank one. However, the other half all had higher levels. He studied his closest neighbour. It was a hulking, turtle-like canine with a fate pool of twenty-three. That was far less than Tom¡¯s own, but he was human, and fate was humanity¡¯s main attribute, especially with their new trait. It made sense that his was so much higher. However, for the turtle-dog, Tom was certain that the rest of its attributes were at similar levels. It certainly looked like it was at least rank three or four rather than his own value of zero, and, beyond that, it had a natural armour that would also aid it in a fight. He was pretty sure he would be unable to beat it. Next to it was what looked like a large pot plant. It had little fate, but all of its branches were moving independently, and, once more, he felt overwhelming power radiating from it. Tom quickly looked away to the next in line and relaxed slightly. This one which had what Tom was starting to suspect was the most common body plan of sapient species: four legs with two arms, it, unlike the first two, did not radiate the oppressive power. It was something that he could beat. It was a squat creature that would outweigh his body by at least of factor of two, even if, on tippy toes, it would only come up to his waist. The person was thick, and, as it shifted from one side of its space to the other, it moved almost too fast for Tom to follow its motion. It was clearly speed-based and had a skill analogous to Quick Step, but, despite those enormous advantages, it was weaker than the first two creatures he had checked. He gulped. If this contest required duels, he might very well be outclassed. The next monster in line was a dull ball of light, and had almost as much fate as Tom did, but, once more, felt weak. Some of the monsters, Tom decided, could be beaten, even if others were beyond him. ¡°Welcome to all contenders,¡± a smooth voice said. ¡°You are the thirty-two best prospects for your age in all of Existentia. You should all be proud of qualifying. For reaching this place, you are guaranteed a great title. You have won, and there is no need to chase the sun and get burned.¡± The speaker appeared in the centre of their circle. Tom saw a human female, which meant everyone else saw their own species. Despite that, she was not speaking directly to him rather she was turning slowly on the spot and making eye contact with all. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all confused about what¡¯s happening, and I¡¯m going to be honest with you. There are three open slots available. Most of you aren¡¯t good enough to qualify.¡± Tom froze. Had she been looking at him when she had said that? ¡°Most of you should take the title you have received and not put your lives at risk. But there are some¡­¡± She paused and glanced around the room. This time, she definitely did not look at him. Her eyes went instead to the pot plant, a wyvern-like creature, and someone that looked somewhat like a goblin, but with tentacles in place of arms. ¡°There are some of you who may feel you have no choice but to give your all, but I implore that you do not. If you die, you will only accelerate the deaths of your species.¡± What the fuck? Tom thought as he tried to understand what she was saying. ¡°And some of you will push beyond the point you should stop.¡± This time, he was one of the people she focused on. ¡°You are all contenders, and the top three will enter the Divine Champions¡¯ Trial. No one needs to die, but I am required to share the truth. Historically, less than two-thirds of the contenders have left here alive, and it¡¯s not because we force battles to the death. Everyone has the option to compete with a GOD¡¯s shield. No one needs to die! When you exit, you¡¯ll get a title. If you join the Divine Champion¡¯s Trial, you may end up with riches that exceed that of everyone in your civilisation. At least, for those who are successful. For everyone else, seeking glory comes with risk. Before I go into the details of that risk, I want you to understand who your fellow contenders are and what¡¯s motivating them. First,¡± she turned to face Tom. ¡°We have a human amongst us. He is a member of a current competitor species.¡± A huge upwelling of noise greeted that statement. Chapter 75.1 – The Contenders The presenter declaring him as being part of the current competition had caused everyone gathered to react. Anger, bitterness, annoyance, and a touch of interest radiated at him from all sides of the room. ¡°Study it. From its body language, it¡¯s intending to compete,¡± an amorphous blob about the size of a hippo shouted. It was, in Tom¡¯s calculation, the fifth-strongest contender here. ¡°Hey, loser,¡± he bellowed at Tom. ¡°Quit now.¡± ¡°Yes, what a waste.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t, in all good conscience continue.¡± ¡°Stop this foolishness!¡± The abrupt explosion of vitriol was enough to make Tom step back in surprise. He wasn¡¯t sure why they were talking to him like this. Of course he intended to seize the opportunity. There was no way he would walk away just because some natives thought he should. The amorphous blob snorted. ¡°The idiot probably doesn¡¯t even know.¡± ¡°True, the blob¡¯s right.¡± The turtle canine next to him with a surprising female voice, given its ferocious exterior, said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t know. Human,¡± it said, facing him. ¡°Are you intending to fight?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°I hope you don¡¯t consider it rude of me to ask, but do you understand the greater purpose the trial serves?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a chance for me to get stronger.¡± He answered neutrally. He wasn¡¯t sure what she was referring to. The person jumped up and down on the spot to indicate its polite but firm disagreement with his opinion. Because of its shell, its weight made each jump sound like a sledgehammer hitting stone when it landed. ¡°No, it¡¯s more than that. The Divine Champions Trial is an opportunity for all of us to bring skills and spells back to our people that we would otherwise never get. It is a chance to renew our entire race.¡± ¡°Exactly, I need that,¡± the pot plant like creature agreed. ¡°The strongest ability my species has available to teach is a tier-two camouflage spell. Our best class path is only an advanced one. Can you comprehend how weak that makes us? We¡¯re barely holding on.¡± ¡°True.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the same.¡± Other voices yelled out in the room. There was an edge of despair to all of them. The relatively few spots available did not match the number of desperate people. The turtle canine flared its power using some kind of aura to suppress everyone else. ¡°I see you don¡¯t understand what we¡¯re saying. The thing is as a competitor species, you have full access to the experience shop. You don¡¯t need to be here. No one blames you for ignorance, but this is the point you should resolve to step aside and not compete for one of the spots.¡± Tom looked out over everyone gathered and attempted to speak, but his throat choked up. Social Silence activating to prevent him from saying the wrong thing. Platitudes were out, as were outright lies, and the simple truth, that he was here for the extra power, was not an acceptable sentiment to verbalise. Seconds passed as he tried to find something that would work, until finally he found words the skill would let him squeeze out. ¡°Please, don¡¯t judge me. I have my reasons for being here.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re not as good as ours.¡± The blob thundered. ¡°They are,¡± Tom refuted it calmly. ¡°You¡¯re here to save your species. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here as well.¡± The turtle canine flared its aura once more. It was the second or third strongest here. ¡°We understand your desire for power, but any benefit you can get from participating is minor. We know how the experience shop works. Any abilities you acquire from the Champions¡¯ Trial are just ones that a year or so of grinding would allow you to buy. For all of us, without a fully functioning experience shop, those abilities represent a boon beyond imagination. It is an opportunity that has the potential to literally transmute the fate of my entire species.¡± ¡°You are exaggerating.¡± The presenter interjected, her voice instantly quietening the entire room. ¡°For over half the contenders here, getting in will do nothing to alter the trajectory of their species.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°They won¡¯t get in,¡± the turtle dog retorted. ¡°They won¡¯t get in, because they¡¯re honourable and will stand aside. This human isn¡¯t from Existentia, it doesn¡¯t understand. It isn¡¯t listening to what I¡¯m saying.¡± The presenter shrugged, and Tom was sure everyone saw the relevant body language of their own species. ¡°Your statement was still an exaggeration. Only about half the people here will benefit.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s a lot. And the human has to understand the stakes.¡± The turtle canine stopped speaking as the presenter stared it down. ¡°Good. Humility suits you. Your heart is in the right spot, and that should be commended. But your analysis is flawed. Any kind of statistical analysis of the current ranking ladder has humanity on track for extinction within a handful of generations. He has as much on the line as everyone else.¡± Silence descended after she said that. More than one, in fact most of the hostile body posturing that had been directed toward him shifted to sympathetic. The turtle dog reverted to snarling at him¡­ in apology? Tom remembered how, Mus that otter like man, from his first life in Existentia, had been able to read the body language of aliens. A similar affect was likely at play here, because there was no way he would have interpreted his neighbour snarling at him as a friendly, apologetic gesture which his mind was assuring him that it was. On earth, amongst all canine species, snarling at anything like that was a threat, but for this person, it meant the opposite. The miscommunication, the incorrect reading of body language, was something that Tom had previously noted as a problem when dealing with natives. Whatever the magic was that existed in the room had completely mitigated that risk. With it active, it was impossible for him to misconstrue their intentions. Or, at least, that was his assumption. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, friend.¡± The turtle canine said finally. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your situation, but I stand by my observation. What little personal advantage you can extract from the Divine Champions¡¯ Trial is nothing like what the rest of us can expect to achieve.¡± The presenter cleared her throat. ¡°I mean, those of us from diminishing civilisations.¡± ¡°She is rude, but she has a point,¡± the goblin loudly interrupted. ¡°I, for one, will not be contesting entry to the championship. My species does not need it, and I will not doom another race in the pursuit of personal glory.¡± ¡°Hear, hear.¡± ¡°I concur.¡± A chorus of voice rushed to agree. Tom noted who was speaking. In terms of strength, it seemed that those destined to try the hardest for the limited spots had the same range as those exiting. ¡°Yes, we all have our roles to play,¡± the presenter continued. ¡°But there is a process to go through, and I did not start with the human out of malice.¡± Then she nodded at the armoured dog. ¡°Or to let the more eloquent amongst us to lobby for the human to change his opinions. I let it slide, because educating everyone here served the greater good. But we have much to cover and little time to do it. I started with the human because of tradition. He is the sixteenth strongest here. His species is rated as being at extreme extinction risk, and its suitability, the natural personal combat strength of the species, is dismal. The backing he has received is also only rated as average.¡± Everyone absorbed what she had said for a moment. Tom could feel the shock they all felt at those statistics. The turtle canine flexed her power like she usually did to get attention. ¡°So, he is a genius.¡± ¡°Almost everyone here is.¡± the presenter agreed. ¡°But amongst you, yes, he is one of the most promising ones.¡± She smiled and looked around the room. ¡°But enough of him; next, as per the normal order, we have the weakest.¡± Subtly, the light switched to highlight the dull ball of light which was only a few spots from Tom. ¡°The Wodane was identified as a genius early in her life, and the community poured resources into her in the hope of turning her into a true champion. Her species¡¯ extinction risk is rated as extreme, her species suitability rating is poor, and her resource backing is slightly above average.¡± Tom registered that information. He was ranked sixteenth, and this person was the weakest, the thirty-second best, even though she had started out with a stronger body and superior backing. This pool was drawn from all of Existentia. Him being here and possibly in contention was a real achievement. The ball of light flashed in agitation at the statement from the presenter. Tom got the sense that she was expressing sadness along with resolute determination and a refusal to give up. The presenter sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye. ¡°I understand the sentiment. But you dying here will only result in your species lasting three more generations instead of five. It is not a worthwhile trade.¡± The flashing got worse. Tom could feel the distress, and he understood the reason for it. Ultimately, everyone here was effectively a child, so logic could not triumph over emotion. The ball of light was struggling to understand the tradeoff that the presenter was referring to. ¡°I¡¯m not sharing anything you didn¡¯t know,¡± the presenter continued kindly. ¡°The longer we can stretch the survival of your species, the more opportunities there will be for an encounter or a divine intervention that can save you. The combat rankings I¡¯m giving you are not set in stone. If they were, we would not have this contest, but, I must stress, you are the weakest. There is no way you¡¯re crossing the divide. The human is probably eighth in terms of those going for an open spot. He has a chance of making it through. But I won¡¯t lie to you. You don¡¯t.¡± The ball of light lowered itself, so it was almost touching the ground. For him, it was like a human child curling up in distressed agony and sobbing on the floor. It was painful to witness. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the presenter said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but this is how the world works. And I can¡¯t change it, and DEUS can¡¯t change it. All we can do is¡­ I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°See that, human.¡± the turtle dog interrupted. ¡°Can you see her pain? That¡¯s why you shouldn¡¯t be competing.¡± Chapter 75.2 – The Contenders ¡°Enough,¡± the presenter snapped, annoyed at the interruption. ¡°I don¡¯t represent FAMES or MAKROS or even GOBUS. If the human getting in could do nothing for his species¡¯ chances of avoiding extinction, I would have said so. I am the representative of DEUS, and she values our lives.¡± At this point, Tom was frustrated at the interruptions. He just wanted for the actual fights to start. From assessing those around him, he had to conclude the presenter was right in placing him mid-field, but, despite what she had implied, the gap between him and the strongest handful was not one that he believed he would be able to cross. He was even wondering whether an attempt to get through was worth the risk. It was not worth chasing the sun and being burned to death. The wodane, however, had clearly decided to push forward in the challenge. She clearly lacked the maturity to understand the cost of failure. Despite being explicitly told to drop out, she was still committed, but no amount of wishing could cross the combat gap that he could see between her and the strongest cohort. She was doomed, and the presenter and everyone else knew it. The presenter abruptly turned away from the turtle dog. Her body language radiated a helpless fury. ¡°The Sulta.¡± She said, as the tentacled goblin was highlighted. ¡°Is the strongest here. In terms of the competition, if victory there, was all that mattered to DEUS, he is who I would be selecting. His species¡¯ extinction risk is rated as non-existent, and his suitability is excellent, and his backing as a minor prince in one of their larger kingdoms was rated as significant. He is, by far the best fighter amongst everyone here, and will be for years, but he will not be competing for a spot in the Divine Champions¡¯ Trial,¡± she was almost yelling out the words. ¡°Because that¡¯s not how DEUS wants this opportunity to work.¡± The presenter stared significantly for a moment at the turtle dog who sunk down into a prone position, which represented a complete apology. ¡°I will not,¡± the sulta agreed, bowing his head and ignoring the extra drama. ¡°It was my honour to be here and my honour to witness your plight.¡± He nodded toward the ball of light and, surprisingly, at Tom. ¡°If my kingdom was closer, I would have us help you.¡± Then he laughed. ¡°Not the human, of course, because that would bring the wrath of the GODs down upon us, but the rest of you. If you¡¯re close enough, you¡¯ll have my support. However,¡± he looked around, and his eyes fell on an aquatic individual. ¡°The Whalebo is the only species I recognise, and I did not realise you were in such dire straits.¡± ¡°Because my elders hide it. But yes, we are. We are diminishing, and fast. Our last great trainer died a decade ago. They are spending all of our resources on the talented youth and projecting strength to hide the vulnerability. They are hoping for a miracle to occur, which saves them without us ever showing weakness.¡± ¡°You will have my people¡¯s aid,¡± the sulta promised. The aquatic person bowed his head so low it touched the ground. It was like it was crying in joy. The presenter nodded with a pleased expression on her face. ¡°And that is why we structure this as we do.¡± She then went through the remaining contenders¡¯ giving background on them. Only one other of the people that Tom was calling the desperate was recognised by someone who could help them. They would be saved, but it still left fifteen people needing the three available spots. Both of those to be rescued, the aquatic person and an alien bird, were weak, and had never been in consideration for an open spot. His task was just as difficult as it had always been. Listening to the presenter it was very clear that Existentia was not a fair place. Strength here was ultimately a measure of backing; strength, and the innate competitiveness of the species. Very few broke those constraints, and Tom was the only one who did it to a significant degree. He was rated dismal and average on those two measures, and not a single other contender was ranked that badly. Of course, his reincarnator status offset a lot of that disadvantage, but not all of it. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Everyone knew he didn¡¯t have access to the system, and even the sulta nodded at him in respect. Most of these people had trained since birth, so they recognised the significance of him managing to get this far. There were three types of contenders, as far as Tom was concerned. The first category, all seventeen of them were the desperate - children who were the last gasp effort of their civilisations. He lumped himself into this group. The general pattern was that they were one of a number of geniuses identified, and then had the best resources the civilisation could afford pumped into them. Usually, that just gave them an average or above average rating on the backing measure. But they all talked about how much they received relatively to their peers. Contrastingly, there were also participants from the powerful nations. They were the children of the strong, and got advantage just by existing. For these first two groups, it was clear that innate species¡¯ competitiveness plus backing equalled their combat strength. The final cluster of only five were the true geniuses. They had no true sponsors, but inadvertently came from a species that was rated as very strong or better. They were here because of the natural advantage of their bodies and the abnormal strength their brilliance had allowed them to gain. For Tom¡¯s purposes, it was only the desperate who would be competing for the vacant spots. They were who he was being pitted against. The presenter smiled and looked around at them. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all wondering how the winners will be decided.¡± ¡°Duels,¡± the sulta said confidently. ¡°No, you won¡¯t be fighting each other. Instead, you¡¯ll be fighting in various colosseum trials around Existentia. We have a simple system. After each combat set, the lower half of the field will be dismissed. That means that there¡¯s going to be a maximum of five rounds, but, due to likely deaths, it¡¯ll be fewer. After each round, you must increase the points the fight is going to generate to stay in the running for the spots. You can drop out any time you wish.¡± Tom¡¯s mind raced to understand what was being explained. He had experience fighting in a colosseum trial. It was, in fact, the first one he had fought in Existentia, and it had almost killed him multiple times over. He wondered if this time it would be against natives or animals. ¡°You will be given the choice to select the rank of the sapient you are going to battle, and if they are newly of that rank or mid,¡± she explained. ¡°You can also choose whether to be under a GOD¡¯s shield, a partial GOD¡¯s shield, or no shield at all. Your score will be the rank of the person you fight multiplied by one, four, or sixteen based on your shield decision.¡± Tom¡¯s mind raced at the implications of what she had just said. It was clear from the scoring that the only way to get through was to fight without a GOD¡¯s shield. That is what the desperate creatures would be doing, and why the death rates were so high. Which left Tom with a choice about how to strategize the contest. With fate helping him, he was confident he could win some fights against rank fives, and maybe up to rank six. ¡°And yes, you can change your layout. You might start fighting a rank six under a partial GOD¡¯s shield, which would earn you twenty-four points, and then, in the next round you can switch to a rank two without a GOD¡¯s shield, a combination that gets you thirty-two points. How you want to structure your fights is up to you, but the points earned must increase each round to stay in the competition.¡± If he thought the maximum he could beat was a new six, and if there were going to be four rounds, did that mean he should start at mid four? Tom bit his lip, thinking quickly. He had sixteen real opponents, but there were four or five others which would be using this opportunity to push their skills. Most here were battle junkies, and, if Tom was in their place, he would have fought under a partial GOD¡¯s shield, and fought the strongest opponent he could. Given their power, it meant that, in the first round, they would probably be getting forty points or so. That meant that, to get through to the next round, he would have to challenge someone who was rank three or higher. Then again, his calculations could be off, and he would kick himself if he got knocked out in the first round because he prioritised an easy win. Four and a half it was, then. Apprehensively, he put in the selection and then spent his fate. He wanted to win, but most of the fate went toward ensuring that he would survive without any permanent maiming. Chapter 76.1 – First Contender Scrap The world flickered, and Tom found himself in a very familiar arena. He was standing dead-centre in a circular, paved area that stretched eighty metres in every direction, right up to the massive walls that rose from the arena floor. They were composed of granite slabs, each of them two-by-two metres square and stacked four high. Above that was the audience. He shuddered when he remembered the clicking and their bloodlust. Tom did not like that he had to fight in front of them again. He had never wanted to see this place again. A figure appeared in front of him. It was the same arena manager as last time, a creature that could have been a devil conjured right out of the depths of hell as pictured in the Earth mythology. Unlike with his first encounter, Tom resisted the urge to strike out at it. Not that he could hurt it. Previously, his hammer had failed him, and back then he was many times stronger than he was currently, so his fists probably wouldn¡¯t even be noticed. Tom waited patiently, as this was empty time, and he was happy to waste it. No time was passing in the outside world. While his precognition mana stores were full, as was his mana, his fate was empty. A point of fate took a little over half an hour to regenerate. He didn¡¯t think he could stretch the fight out for that long, but every potential advantage was worth pursuing. The devil¡¯s eyes narrowed as it examined him. Theatrically, it paced around him like it was measuring a prize bull, which in the context of this place, that was probably what he was doing. Having completed the circuit with a flourish of his hands and a twirl of his trident, he looked up at the stands. ¡°We have a special one-off fight for you. This strange creature here is a contender who must prove his might. A rank zero nothing that is being pitted against a rank four. And it gets better¡­¡± the devil shouted with overflowing excitement. ¡°This is a child, one barely out of the womb and he is going against a criminal adult ¨C and, most importantly, it¡¯s to the death. For both of them. Yes, the lives of both are on their line. There are no safety nets here. There¡¯s no GOD¡¯s shields to protect them. We know it. They know it. The only outcome is glorious. It is the death of one or both.¡± ¡°I thought you could¡­ that you could fight to submission.¡± Tom objected. ¡°The contender wants to show mercy. He wants to spare the criminal. Isn¡¯t that sweet and na?ve and selfishly weak? He might want to, but I say no, there is no room for mercy. Today, one of them will die. Will it be the child? Will he fail, and his loss set the criminal free to murder again? Or will the contender bring justice to the arena floor?¡± If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The excited clicking was growing louder. ¡°This is to the death,¡± the devil screamed. ¡°To the death. To the death!¡± The entire crowd started chanting the words. Hidden by the noise, the devil turned to him. ¡°Child, I hope you haven¡¯t made a mistake by coming here, but I can¡¯t protect you. The fight will take place, and all I can say is good luck. I¡¯ve seen two adults of your species fight on these stones. They vastly outperformed expectations and I hope you¡¯ll do the same. The first,¡± the devil chuckled. ¡°He cost them a lot. You won¡¯t have any friends in the stands. They don¡¯t like humans, especially not after the trick that the second one pulled.¡± The clicking and chanting reached a crescendo, and then stopped abruptly. The entire atmosphere of the place changed. It went from excited to hostile. Between one blink and the next, the devil vanished and, thirty metres away from him, a new person appeared. They were separated by a clear pane of magic shielding. Tom studied his opponent. It was an energy being of some kind. Fifty spheres, all of different colours and sizes. None were larger than a softball, and those were spinning on an inner orbit with the fist- and golf ball-sized ones spinning out wider. The person¡¯s appearance wasn¡¯t the only change to have occurred in that moment. Tom felt the armour appear on him, and a spear shaft filled his hand. April had done something similar to him enough times he didn¡¯t even react to its manifestation. Instead of jumping in surprise, he did a brief spear kata in order to familiarize himself with the armour. Only then did he examine what he had been given to protect himself. The armour wasn¡¯t very good, its coverage only slightly better than the breastplate he had worn against the orcs. There were some slight improvements, however. The upper-body piece was extending far enough to cover his upper arms, and there was a skirt-like addition that allowed flaps of leather to fall down to protect his thigh area. The rest of him, including his head, was not protected. He checked his weapon. It was only tier-zero, but that was better than nothing, and he used his excess mana generation to allow Living Wood to fuse some minor stress fractures in the shaft together. Two points of mana that were only going to take a minute to regenerate materially increased the durability of the item. To his immense frustration, Danger Sense had grown in volume in reaction to his opponent appearing. This fight was going to be as challenging as the gap between their ranks suggested. There would be no outrageous skill mismatch like lightning vulnerability to allow him to win by default. According to Danger Sense, there was a very real chance of dying. Naturally, none of that concern reached his face. ¡°A weakling to play with,¡± the balls of energy taunted. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy finding how much your flesh and skin can be separated while keeping your key biological systems functioning.¡± Chapter 76.2 – First Contender Scrap Tom ignored the weak attempt to psych him out, and concentrated on understanding what he had to fight. He had honestly never fought anything like it, and it looked powerful. Given the way the coloured balls were orbiting, and the traces of magic that followed their perpetual motion, he suspected he would face magic-based attacks. However, he knew that it was only rank four, and, once you had a class, getting the early levels was not difficult. It being so ranked lowly meant it must have a serious flaw in its makeup. That did not gel with it having magic-based attacks, because ranged magic attacks supported safe levelling. Something was wrong with it. ¡°Will it hurt when I cut... When I cut¡­ um¡­ what is it called again? Will it hurt when I cut your hair?¡± He ignored its deranged prattling. There was no way to tell what it could do before engaging. Hopefully, it still being rank four suggested a lack of ability issue rather than age. Though, if it was weak because it was young that spoke of a minimal experience, which he could exploit. Tom licked his lips. Delay and information-gathering could only help him. While a bipedal form was not common, carbon-based biological ones were. Functionally, it already knew most of his limitations, and the reverse did not apply. He needed to try to get more information before engaging, and from how it was carrying on, it might actually be dumb enough for such an attempt to work. He cleared his throat. ¡°Sir, Mister. I think there¡¯s been a mistake. You¡¯re too powerful to fight me.¡± The thing laughed. ¡°You¡¯re way, way too powerful. Please, spare me. Give me a chance.¡± ¡°And how would I do that, little flesh bag? Give me a leg to play with and we¡¯ll talk. The way tendons and bones work has always been fascinating.¡± By telling me your weaknesses, Tom thought, but he couldn¡¯t give away the reason he was delaying. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe by not using your magic, that will equalise things.¡± It chuckled. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t help you, because I already don¡¯t do magic - well, at least not offensive magic.¡± Tom pretended to open his eyes wide in wonder. He doubted it had a skill to help interpret body language, but it was worth trying. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s amazing. If that¡¯s the case, then how do you kill things?¡± As he watched, one of the golf sized glowing balls came out of close in rotations and then slammed into the ground about three metres from its centre of mass. It smashed into nothing and then reformed back inside the creature. Tom knew that it was the same one, because he was tracking the unique colours and had already counted all forty-six spheres that made it up. It had only taken a second for the ball to reform. If they had a ten-minute countdown before being recreated, or even a one minute one, he could have baited all the balls out and then killed it, but that, unfortunately, wasn¡¯t happening now. ¡°I¡¯m awesome, right. Look at how strong I am.¡± Before doing anything more, he mentally analysed the collision. There had been a loud thump, so the attack packed some force, but from what he could see, the blocks were not cracked, which told Tom that it was, relatively speaking, a weak blow. The stone pavers might look imposing, but they were surprisingly fragile. From experience, individuals who were only a few ranks higher than what faced him could do significant damage to the stonework. ¡°You¡¯re so strong. To make it fair, I think you should only do one of them at a time. ¡°I¡¯m not going to handicap myself, because if I do so, I might injure you more than I want. Which, long term, threatens the amount of fun I can have. Your tendons don¡¯t stretch themselves and I understand they die if your liquidy stuff can¡¯t reach them.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Tom tried to look scared. If he understood the enemy right, fighting the creature would be a lot like having stones thrown at you. Individual blows from those balls would not kill him. Defensively, it almost certainly had shields protecting it, but his special Power Strike ability should get through them easily. The fight was going to be a long one. Unless he was greatly mistaken, he was probably going to have to crack a significant number of the odd balls of light that made up its structure to disable and kill it. With a frown, he strode forward, spear in hand. It focused on him, and time immediately slowed significantly. Two balls left its orbit and were coming at him from opposing directions. The decelerated time from his trait allowed him to easily track them and, even with his now barely responsive body, he was able to sidestep one of them before he deliberately allowed the other to smash into his thigh. He did it because he had to know how hard they hit in preparation for when the fight escalated in response to the other person realising its own life was in danger. Tom was certain it could use more than two balls at a time. He just hoped that the number was less than ten. For this first encounter, he even slid the leather armour aside to better measure the force of the impact. That was a decision he immediately regretted. The blow hurt a lot but not enough to demand immediately healing. Just like when it had hit the ground the ball of light broke and then reformed near the main body. The one that missed him rotated around and restarted the orbit close to its primary structure. ¡°Are you really that slow? I wasn¡¯t even trying, and I hit you. Meat bags are useless¡± Tom ignored it as his brain calculated how many of these blows he could suffer before he would have to start healing them. He probably couldn¡¯t tank any to the head, but anywhere else he was probably safe. Direct strikes to bones would hurt and might cause stress fractures, but those could be easily patched. Another two came for him. He allowed one to strike his back to buy him time to intercept the other with a Power Strike-infused blow. It shattered instantly, and he grunted as the other slammed between his shoulder blades. The hit was almost hard enough to lift his feet off the ground, but the armour did its job by spreading the force, so he wasn¡¯t hurt badly. An idea to manipulate its stupidity occurred to him, so he squealed in pain and pretended to be far more hurt than he was. He watched as, two seconds later, close to its main body, both the one he had speared and the one that had struck him reformed. Tom frowned in annoyance at that outcome. It was what he had expected, but it was still annoying. Breaking the ball with his spear had slowed the reformation, but not sufficiently enough to matter. He was going to have to charge the creature and attack the main body. Potentially, the only way to kill it was to break the bigger spheres. ¡°Too slow, you can¡¯t beat me. Can¡¯t even get close. What evil did you do to be here? I butchered these meat bags with big eyes and lots of fluffy fur.¡± From that description, Tom could imagine what had happened. The psycho, even if it didn¡¯t realise it, had experimented, or more precisely tortured babies, it was no wonder he had been sentenced to death. ¡°I cut up my siblings. You need to hear this. It was amazing.¡± ¡°Are you serious? Are you trying to monologue mid-battle like you¡¯re strong?¡± Tom shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m proud of my work. I was able to stretch the skin of one for over ten metres.¡± ¡°Really? That¡¯s so much more than I could do with the little ones I borrowed.¡± ¡°Yes. You have to pay attention to biology.¡± With a deep breath, he then launched into a speech, using his extensive medical knowledge to explain the process in excruciating detail. He made a point of talking about how his head was nearly indestructible and the care he took around the chest area so he didn¡¯t accidently kill them while making his flesh sculptures. The dumb creature didn¡¯t even question why this random person had the same hobby that it did. What he was saying was being replayed to the crowd and, from what he could interpret from their reactions, half of them loved what they were hearing. They were almost as deranged as his opponent, who was hopelessly enthralled by his story. It must have also thought he was an idiot for giving away the roadmap of how to kill one of his kind to his opponent in a death match. ¡°That¡¯s so amazing. You said you stretched the living body over ten metres. I wonder if I can do that with you? So, when doing surgery, I start with the what you flesh bags call feet.¡± Tom didn¡¯t answer. It was clear he had distracted it for as long as he was going to get away with. He had successfully wasted almost ten minutes, and was that much closer to getting another point of fate to use. Chapter 76.3 – First Contender Scrap As he closed, the coloured balls of light came at him at ridiculous speeds. Its range, unfortunately, was more like ten metres than three. There were only four coming at a time because that seemed to be the limit of its control and it was focusing on his legs and arms. It had obviously believed all that shit he had said. Once he was close enough, he used Spark, but it was like targeting plastic. There was no way to run the current through it in order to hurt it, and it was also clear this was one of the body types his stun wasn¡¯t going to work against. He shelved the idea and decided to dedicate his magic to healing, a trump card he would use only when the beating he was receiving became too much of a liability for him to continue to fight at his normal speeds. Tom ignored the projectiles unless Danger Sense flared a warning or if it targeted his chest - only then did he dodge. The first was because he didn¡¯t want to die, and the second to preserve the illusion of his armoured chest area being a weakness. It was like he was being struck repeatedly with fast balls in a professional baseball game. They hurt, and welts formed at the impact points immediately where they hit bare flesh. Then he was right next to the monster, and he instantly lunged forward to target one of the larger internal spheres. Power Strike, with a point of precognition mana invested to help with shield-breaking, covered his weapon in an aqua glow. An inch-thick shield popped up to protect the targeted sphere, but his power strike burst it just as it always did against the magical shields in his training with April. Then the spear tip dug into the large ball and it exploded fragments. ¡°What the hell? How did you do that? You¡¯re weak and pathetic, you¡¯re not supposed to be able to hurt me.¡± it cursed in response and its relentless assault against his legs briefly halted. By the time it had finished its spiel, he had shattered another two of the larger spheres. What sort of idiot stopped to monologue mid battle, Tom thought dismissively. It had just stopped fighting and had stood there while allowing him to attack. It was unbelievable to someone like him, who had spent years in life and death contests. But not so surprising that Tom hadn¡¯t been able to take advantage. Then it realised it wasn¡¯t fighting, and all of its attacks immediately switched to focus on his torso. Internally, he smiled and concentrated harder. He wanted to push his advantage while he could, and he had another three strikes before skill exhaustion would become a problem. As he went for his fourth, a purple ball, the enemy reacted with magic. Three different shields shifted into position between his target and his spear tip. Precognition-enhanced shield breaking or not, that was too much. Each of them broke as his weapon hit them, but they each bled off a bit of his weapon¡¯s momentum. By the time the spear tip hit the surface of his target, it was moving too slowly to break it. The purple shell shuddered, and a crack spread briefly over it before it healed. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Those cracks were a weakness, and he instantly redoubled his efforts. He struck at it again, and, just like before, it responded with multiple defensive shields, but this time he used Spark in front of his weapon. The lightning broke the first shield, and the next two didn¡¯t slow his spear enough. The ball shattered. Knowing that skill exhaustion was close to kicking in, he retreated. The balls of energy smashed hard into his back. Tom smiled. If it had gone for his legs, he might not have made it, but the momentum imparted by each strike actually got him to safety faster. The monster, because even though it was sapient that was what it was, was swearing at him and tried to follow, but it was clear that its main body moved too slowly to match Tom¡¯s. A fast jog allowed him to avoid its attack range. ¡°Come back, you coward.¡± Tom ignored it and instead focused on measuring it to see what the destruction of four of the larger balls had done. None of them had reformed yet. It was hard to tell, but he was pretty sure it was weaker. He stayed away for ten minutes as the crowd became more and more irate. The devil was suddenly next to him. ¡°You¡¯ve had your fun. If you don¡¯t close with it, I¡¯ll have to reduce the size of the arena you have to battle in.¡± Tom nodded and recognised that a change like that was not something he could afford. He went in for the kill. His chest and back were pummelled, but it bought him the time needed to break another two of the larger spheres. He pulled away and regenerated his willpower and his mana. ¡°Five minutes are up. Go fight.¡± The devil whispered in his ear. Without hesitation, Tom did as ordered. Half an hour later, his spear destroyed the remaining large ball, and there was a shattering sound as all the minor ones broke apart. Tom stood there, panting, while he healed the latest set of bruises. The fight had been painful even if it hadn¡¯t felt particularly deadly. The creature¡¯s offense had, however, come from the smaller orbs, which had remained at full strength the entire time. At the end, they had still been hitting as hard as they had at the beginning, and his ruse around weak spots had been discovered for the last two times he had closed, because it had stopped focusing on his armoured chest and gone back to targeting all of him, and that had hurt. If it had not fallen for his stupid gambit, the result might have been different, but probably not. With his shield breaking expertise and ability to tank the blows, the fight had never really been in doubt. It was all academic. It had been tricked, and the important thing was that he had won and stretched the fight for as long as the arena manager had allowed him to. A single point of fate had regenerated, and he was halfway toward getting another. He was incredibly proud of that small achievement. The devil appeared next to him and tried to talk up his victory, attempting to rev up the crowd, but Tom ignored it as he analysed the battle to see what he could have done better. Then the world changed, and, a moment later, he was back in the same hall as before with the other contenders. They had arrived at the same time as him, and all of them were staring in horror at the four empty spots, just like he was. The presenter had warned them of the dangers, but it was something else to see them. Chapter 77.1 – Reality Check Four of the contenders had died. Almost as one, all the survivors did their species¡¯ equivalent of lowering their head to express grief at the deaths. Some made loud noises, others beat their chest, and one spat thick slimy mucus at each of the empty spots. It didn¡¯t matter what the routine was - the intentions were clear. Honour, mourn, and acknowledge. Part of him thought about his own mortality, and the rest of him on the impact this would have on a declining species when one of their rising stars, potentially the best for generations, died. It was a sobering moment for both reasons. Unbidden, he found himself focusing on the empty spot closest to him. It was the one next to the squat creature that was rocking backward and forward ridiculously fast. She had never spoken, at least verbally. Instead, she had flashed and communicated everything that she wanted to say. A determination to try, no matter the odds; a conviction that an effort, even if it was a one in a hundred chance or one in a thousand, was worthy; a belief that an attempt was better than accepting the status quo. She had been a child, and he could see Briana demonstrating similar stubbornness. Despite being strong enough to be here, she had been just that - a child. Then again, he was an adult, and he had made the same choice. When the lives and future of everyone you knew were on the line, no one who had struggled to be strong was going to back away from the fight. In some ways, she never had a choice. The presenter appeared, and each of the four spots were illuminated; then the ghosts of the dead manifested within them. GOD magic was in play because he knew, at an absolute level, he was seeing their souls. There was no debate. This was them, their conscience preserved at the point of their death for this moment. Having been in an almost identical situation, Tom knew that they would be aware that they had died, and he understood the agony that they must be going through to have realised that they had failed and there was no reset to make things better. Tears were running down his face, and he didn¡¯t care. Let everyone else know how much this affected him. He would wear any scorn or condemnation for his emotions, because he felt terrible for them¡­ That, and the fact that it could easily have been him returning as a ghost. When he glanced around, he realised he hadn¡¯t needed to feel bashful about showing emotion - over half of those he could see were as affected by this as he was. The majority here were children; he wasn¡¯t, and some species would mature faster, but DEUS would be equalising things. It was almost certain that everyone here was, at a fundamental level, a child. They were children. The ones who understood what death was cried, and those that didn¡¯t¡­ well, they would be crying too, if they truly understood what they were witnessing. The presenter cleared her throat loudly, and Tom felt a compulsion to face her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that it had affected everyone, including the ghosts. She smiled, then sniffed and briefly shut her eyes tightly to prevent herself from breaking down. ¡°You died trying to save your species.¡± She said quietly, and then had to stop for a moment, one hand on her heart and the other covering her eyes as she lowered her head. She visibly regathered her composure, and then she looked up once more, a brave smile on her face. Part of Tom thought it was bullshit, a mockery of emotion, but the rest believed it. He consistently felt that avatars of DEUS, no matter how close or far away from her, they always cared. They might have been powerless to affect reality, but they had cared. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°You died trying to save your species,¡± she started again. ¡°There is no grander ideal to pursue than that. Being willing to sacrifice yourself for others is something everyone here can respect. Your bravery will be remembered by all gathered. We salute you.¡± At those words, the ghosts faded away to nothing, and the presenter stopped and spun around to meet each of their eyes briefly. ¡°We honour them and their cause, and I think, deep down, we understand why they did it.¡± She paused and swallowed heavily. ¡°The reason for their deaths may be honourable, but do not delude yourself otherwise - they¡¯re dead. Under the rules that this contest operates, under there are no hidden safety nets. Those four died, and they can do nothing further to help their species. There are no sweetheart deals, their soul will have their memory wiped and reborn as per the normal process. Think of what that means for those they leave behind, both those who loved them and those who would have been sheltered under their strength. This is a disaster for their species. As you make the choice to continue or push yourself to fight stronger enemies in the next round, consider the consequences of their choice. Pushing through to the end may not be the wisest course for all of us.¡± ¡°On that note, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all interested in this.¡± She clicked her fingers, and a ranking ladder appeared right in front of his eyes in ghostly letters. There were thirty-two lines on the table, with the bottom four crossed out. The information presented was simple. There was a picture, name and then score. Those in the desperate category had a brighter frame around their image to make it very clear who was contending for a spot. The top fourteen on the list were in full colour, and those below them were greyed out. It made it very clear that half of the remaining were going through to the next round and not the top sixteen. Which meant it was likely there would only be three rounds, because if another two people died the third round, it would leave only three left competing for the spot. Of the contenders, ten remained in the competition, four were dead, one had placed sixteenth and had failed to make the top fourteen, and the final two who had their species¡¯ future guaranteed earlier had finished in the bottom section. Judging by their score, both of them must have fought under a GOD¡¯s shield. They were irrelevant. All that mattered was that there were ten left. Of those ten, any number from seven to four would go through to the next round, but most likely it would be five or six. Tom was certain that multiple people would die in the next round, as he knew how hard he was pushing himself, and he assumed the others were doing the same. Then his brain registered the other critical detail of the table he was being shown: his own position and the score against each person. His heart sank as he comprehended the implications of those results. He felt like screaming in despair. They were too good. ¡°Fuck this,¡± he cursed. ¡°If I don¡¯t make it, do I get another chance?¡± he whispered. ¡°No,¡± the presenter answered him. He was looking at her, and he could see she was frozen like a statue. She was not using her body to talk to him. ¡°Nobody gets more than one chance to be a contender.¡± ¡°But I need this, and¡­¡± ¡°You know why we do this.¡± She interrupted him. As she said that, he had an image of the bird and the aquatic person whose species had been saved, and he knew what she meant. The more people they could cycle through this process, the better. ¡°Everyone gets one chance unless there is an opportunity for another species to save them, and then we cheat by using a divine intervention. As a competitor species, you¡¯re not eligible for that; you can¡¯t be saved. Under the rules, humanity needs to save itself.¡± The entire conversation, Tom realised, had taken place instantly. He got the feeling the presenter had made use of his trait, and he was briefly functioning at ninety percent of the level that the avatar was capable of. It was a level of dilation where time might as well have stopped all together. ¡°I understand,¡± he whispered as he stared in shock at the score those above him had gotten. Around him, everyone else began moving at their normal pace. Tom realised he didn¡¯t care. The simple fact was that, despite giving everything since being reincarnated, he was too weak. If he had come into this body aged three, then the extra years of training might have made a difference. If¡­ if¡­ if. Existentia didn¡¯t care about ifs. It only cared about reality, and that painted a stark picture. Chapter 77.2 – Reality Check Tom had fought a four point five in the last round. It had given him seventy-two points, which placed him tenth. A fight right at the edge of his capability had only got him to the tenth place. It was enough to make him scream. There were seven contenders ahead of him, and the third through to sixth were all on the same score of eighty-eight. They had all fought and beaten a five point five, a full rank over what he had done. Just to stay in touch, he was going to need to fight a six and probably a six point five, because, to survive into the next round, he had to reach at least fifth place in case people died. Time froze as his trait activated once more. ¡°It¡¯s not too late to back out.¡± Then it restarted, and the presenter was staring at him for a long two seconds before turning to look at the others. He wondered how many similar conversations she was having simultaneously, how many wasted attempts at saving lives she was churning through. He was confident that no one was abandoning the challenge this close to success. He bit his lip as he tried to calculate what was the best way forward. That cluster meant that, at a minimum, he had to fight a six. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t know the tie breaker rules, which would tell him if he had to push harder. ¡°It is based on the performance in the previous rounds,¡± the presenter told him. He swallowed at that answer. That implied he might get knocked out unless he pushed to a six point five. For a long moment, he considered whether that was possible. Then he shook his head. No, it wouldn¡¯t work; it was gambling on there only being two rounds, because there was no way he would be able to beat a seven the round after. The problem was that, as ranks increased, so did skill and spells. Mathematically, a rank seven was thirty percent stronger than a six point five, which represented physical power, coordination, resilience, and mana pool all being seven percent stronger, but the gap was larger than that. That rank seven would have additional battle experience and probably a couple of extra class levels, which might come with better passives, and possibly more spells or skills. Later on, it wasn¡¯t so pronounced, but a single additional half a rank at this level would make them fifty percent more dangerous on average. Given the gap he was already crossing, each advancement took his task from very unlikely to fifty percent more than that, which, he guessed, might class it as extremely unlikely. He couldn¡¯t do it. The fate he had invested into survival was the only thing that made what he was planning remotely feasible, even with Danger Sense being as powerful as it was due to his affinity. His first victory had been a miracle, his second would be¡­ what? And then what about the third one? How far could forty-three fate truly stretch? Three miracles had to be getting into the range of the absurd. Fate stretched probabilities. It did not create divine miracles. Not six point five. He couldn¡¯t take that. It was too much. Six he would risk, because, if he went any lower, then it was almost odds on that he would be kicked out even with a victory. But he couldn¡¯t convince himself to push any further. Even a six felt impossible, but it was an impossible that was fifty percent easier than it would have been if he pushed harder. He made his selection, and a moment later he was back in the same arena. ¡°And our contender from yesterday is back,¡± the devil yelled. Tom did not react to either how close the devil was or that apparently a day had passed. GODs were involved, and they could do what they wished, including screwing with timelines. Hopefully, he would return from this competition to find that no time had expired, or that his avatar had taken over, because, if he was left comatose in the isolation room, or, worse, just went missing for a day, that would draw unwanted attention. ¡°And he is here for another fight to the death.¡± The devil made a joke of examining him in detail, pacing around, prodding, and measuring him. ¡°Back and no stronger, but this time he is fighting something that is a rank six instead of mid four. That¡¯s a big jump.¡± The devil¡¯s arm rested on his shoulder with a familiarity that he wanted to reject and fight against. He didn¡¯t bother, of course. It was too strong and could do what it wanted. ¡°Tell me, child, how do you hope to defeat a person who is almost six times faster than you?¡± There was no real way he could answer that, because he didn¡¯t know. ¡°How can you block an attack that has six times the strength that you have? Why are you here, child?¡± ¡°Because I need to be.¡± ¡°Are you here voluntarily?¡± Mutely, he nodded. ¡°Then why challenge? Do you wish to die? Or perhaps you think you can win? Do you possess a tier nine combat skill?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Or a trait? Or any secret ability?¡± Tom shook his head at both questions. ¡°Then why? Is it because you¡¯re suicidal or because you¡¯re a fool?¡± The devil looked sad, and from the past Tom knew it was being genuine. For all of its faults in taking the job it had, it genuinely wanted the best for those who fought in front of it. ¡°You got lucky in your last fight. The creature you fought was broken, and even then, if it hadn¡¯t listened to you like a moron, you would have lost. I ask again, why are you here?¡± ¡°For my family and to save my species.¡± ¡°And those,¡± the devil went back to addressing the audience. ¡°Are the words that many contenders die after saying.¡± Then the devil was gone, and Tom found himself armed once more. Across from him, a new opponent was standing. It was a raptor-like dinosaur with a massive flattened horn on its head. Raptor-like, yes, but not precisely so. It was heavier than those creatures, and its front arms ended in dexterous hands, one of which had an axe while the other was clutching some kind of hooked instrument. Intelligent eyes stared at him. There were three of them: two were at the side of the head, and the last was under the horn. All three were focused on him. Tom wondered what it saw. It would know his rank, but what would it be thinking? That made him contemplate what tactical considerations he would have had if he were in its position. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The obvious first thing to focus on was that it was a rank-zero in a gladiator fight to the death that was willing to challenge a rank six. That fact, in the absence of anything else, would set his alarm bells ringing. He would worry about the unknown. Questions like the ones the devil had asked would be his focus. Did this crazy opponent have a high-tiered battle ability, and, if so, and the positions were reversed, would Tom approach the fight? He would try to go quickly, to overwhelm the no-name before the high-tiered combat abilities could come into play; to make use of his spear and strength to end everything quickly. Also, because of fear of social or mind skills, he wouldn¡¯t engage with the other person. Which was the exact attitude his opponent was taking. It, unlike the psycho moron, had said nothing. They stood awkwardly and silently, watching each other. The devil¡¯s voice was booming over the colosseum, extolling the virtues of the contest, wondering out loud how long it would go and what tricks the child would come up with. Tom knew the truth. He had screwed up, and the only thing that gave him any sort of hope was the fate that he had invested in surviving. It had been released before the random match-ups were selected. Theoretically, it should have given him an opponent he could match, if not beat. He prepared for the coming fight by pumping all of his mana into Spark, apart from a single point of precognition mana that went to Power Strike. He was positioned to be threatening for a single engagement. If the lightning failed, he would be helpless afterwards. Then he waited and watched as a bead of sweat trickled down his face. He suffered the tickling sensation, as he couldn¡¯t afford the distraction necessary to brush it away. There was no signal, but time slowed down dramatically. Visually, the movement in the stands had almost stopped between one moment and another, but the sound profile was the largest change. Clicks becoming drawn out was a very distinctive variation. The fight was joined, and the barrier separating them had vanished. As he had predicted, it was charging him. Its head was down as it led with that horn, which was the size of a beach ball. Blue light flared in front of it as it cast some sort of shielding spell. It was an overkill, but in its place Tom would have done the same thing: shock and awe and putting everything offensive and defensive into the first engagement to overwhelm any potential high tier surprises. One relative second of the slowed time had passed, and it had crossed half the distance between them. Fifteen metres in a fraction of a second, it had accelerated to a race car speed almost instantly. There was no time for thought. He released both attacks that he had prepared, but lacked the time to adjust any parameters. The creature hit him. His spear might have shattered its shield first - or then, again, it might not have. His brain, even with the trait activated, wasn¡¯t quick enough to interpret the flash of information. Pain, it was fine with, and he felt it. Physically, every part of him was screaming at him. Then he was airborne. It did nothing to mitigate the throbs of agony going through his body. His teeth had ended up in the back of his throat. He felt like his head had almost popped off. His torso had been affected the worst where it had struck. Despite his sideways evolution strengthening his bones by sixty percent, his entire rib cage was pulverised. Apart from the bonuses from Touch Heal, his body was am Earth-standard human one, and, between the speed and the horn, it was equivalent of him being hit by a wrecking ball. The broken bones were the least of those problems. A mana point regenerated, and he used it. The dilation component of his healing was activated instantly, and he had a moment to understand what had happened. There were shattered bones, smashed organs, concussion from the force of the impact. His brain had been sloshed from one side of his skull to the other. His heart was shredded by fragments of his ribs. Not one, but four pieces had gone through it, and then ended up stuck within the muscle. Tom went into triage mode. The first bits of mana were going to have to go to his brain to prevent it shutting down, which, in the state his body was in, would have meant death. His sideways evolution of Touch Heal meant the heart, which would otherwise have been his primary focus, could wait. Part of the damage to his brain was stitched together, and then he was left hurtling through the air. He crashed to the ground and rolled multiple times before coming to a halt. It was all a bit of a blur. All he could say for certain was that he hadn¡¯t run into the walls, so he had not been thrown eighty metres. His gut told him twenty, but who knew. He was dying, and so he spent both points of fate on surviving the next few minutes. Then he threw himself into healing. The only upside to this whole thing was that his trait was no longer active. The person he had been fighting was not currently targeting him. If he was lucky, it would be dead, and it was clear that it had been susceptible to lightning, and his plan had worked. His spear must have shattered the magical shielding, and then Spark had hit it full force. If it was vulnerable, given its weight, that should have been enough to fry it. He wondered what the audience thought. They probably thought he had lied about his lack of a high tiered combat spell, and likely attributed his success to some exotic lightning ability. Little did they know that it was nothing of the sort - just a tier-zero spell and a tier-one spear skill that appeared to be more because of the fate he had spent pre-battle. It was something only humans could do, so no one thought it was possible. A minute passed and his brain stabilised, then he closed most of the cuts, then replenished his blood, and then started mending his heart. He had done this dance often enough with April to know how it worked. All he had to do was to show he was not going to die, and then¡­ The first slither of bone was extracted from the heart, and the world shivered. Everything was a world of pain, but he felt his trait activate. ¡°You are not under a GOD¡¯s shield. You have to do it all yourself. I¡¯ve brought you here to allow you to do it without anyone watching.¡± Tom had forgotten about that. Luckily, from experience, he knew that Touch Heal could fix anything. He went to work, patching himself up slowly and carefully. Unlike with April, he took the time to remove even the smallest of scars. At one point, he opened his eyes to find he was facing down so he couldn¡¯t see anything, and his body was not improved by the trait, and the dilation was so severe that he couldn¡¯t turn to check out his surroundings. Helplessly, he shut his eyes and kept going. Eventually, everything was fixed and then, without a word being spoken, his trait deactivated. Miraculously alive and no longer hurt, he looked up to see what had changed in the contender circle. There was no convenient floating table of information to examine, so even though it mentally hurt to do it, he scanned the contenders circle and counted the empty spots. There weren¡¯t many. Only an additional three were missing. He hated that was not what he had secretly hoped to see. That meant that eleven had finished the round. Which meant six would go through¡­ Which meant six. Which meant. Which. It was. Tears ran down his face. It meant there was going to be another round, and he had failed, because he couldn¡¯t possibly battle a six point five. There was no way he should have challenged a six. Fate had worked its miracle, but it couldn¡¯t keep doing it. Probabilities could only be shifted so much before the weight of reality stopped them from being moved any more. And he wasn¡¯t sure it could change the chance enough, anyway. That creature, even if it was perfectly vulnerable to his one offensive magic school had, still almost killed him. If it had been fifty percent stronger? He might want to keep going, but he couldn¡¯t. Tom struck the ground and screamed. He had failed. He had been so sure, when he had received the invitation to the contenders¡¯ contest, that it was an advantage that would propel humanity to victory, but he had been wrong. It had been a mistake to strive to get in early. A grievous error to have qualified this young and so unprepared. He should have followed Corrine¡¯s path. He had gone too close to the sun and gotten burnt. It was Existentia. It was unfair, bitterly so, but he knew his limits, and it shouldn¡¯t have been any more than a four point five. The dream was over. Thankfully, his trait activated as the presenter gave him a small mercy. Locked in his head, frozen in time, he cried, screamed, and blubbered. He knew what failure tasted like, and he had never wanted to experience it again. Yet here he was. He had risked so much. He had almost died again, twice. And then this happened. A barrier that couldn¡¯t be surmounted. One that was far beyond him. No matter how much his soul yearned for it to be otherwise, the plain simple fact was that his body was incapable of doing what was required. He knew that was life - things were not supposed to work out perfectly every time, but he had been so certain, so convinced, and so wrong. And it was unfair! Unfair! he screamed in his head. Why had this happened? Chapter 78 – Opponent Insight Tom remained in his prone position, his body locked and unable to respond to any of the mental signals his brain sent. It was the time dilation caused by his trait after being triggered by the presenter targeting him. He knew she was being kind, but it didn¡¯t help matters. His mind lashed out at the unfairness of the world and the impossibility of the task he had stupidly set himself. Worse, in his opinion, was that he had wanted the others to fail, and the depravity that type of attitude showed terrified him. However, so many humans were also going to die if he failed. His mind went in circles, with bouts of violent emotion bursting up from his heart to overwhelm his usual discipline. The whole situation was demonstrably unfair, wrong, unjust, and he needed to fight it and destroy it. Fury consumed him as the unnatural anger reacted to his thoughts. Every atom in his body wanted to strike out and terminate the world. His physical power swelled to new heights, but, frozen in what was effectively a time bubble, it could do nothing. Eventually, the intensity waned, and he was able to think once more. He shuddered when he thought about how long that had taken. In absolute time, it had been a fraction of a second, but the real time, he guessed might have been hours, and maybe even a full day. There was no point in waving his fists and rallying against the GODs. The rules were not something he could ever challenge. Or, at least, not for a few hundreds of years - and then, if he grew enough, then maybe, and only then and only maybe, he might be able to plan to do something. Slowly, his emotions calmed. ¡°Your reaction is to your credit.¡± The presenter told him. ¡°Life is unfair, and there are rules we all have to follow. I¡¯m going to release my focus on you in a moment. Are you prepared?¡± He tried to nod but of course his body didn¡¯t move; she could read his mind or something, though, because his state changed, and all of his muscles spasmed as the buildup of contradictory commands he had released while frozen, hit all at once. With a groan, he glanced up at the presenter who began to talk, her face sad. ¡°We have our final six chosen. There will be one more round before the three open spots are awarded. Before we start that, it is a tradition that the top eight all plead their case for why they deserve the opportunity. Remember, even if you are fully qualified you can always step aside to let the person immediately below you take your place.¡± The moment she finished talking one of the contender spaces lit up. The person it held was the standard biological template. It was kind of like a goat with its fifth and sixth appendages, its arms originating from the rib cage midway between the two legs. While it appeared to be hairy, it was hard to tell, as it wore simple clothes like the ones Tom had been given. Almost all of its body was covered up, including its feet and hands. Only elements of its face were visible. It was possible it had as little body hair as a human, with the exception of a thick beard. From the early descriptions provided by the presenter, Tom recognised it. This was one of the geniuses, and it did not fall in the desperate category. Its hands slapped the ground. ¡°There is nothing to say or argue. I withdraw. I will not contend for a competition spot.¡± Then it repeated the starting gesture of smashing the stone floor four times. In human terminology, the strange skill that permeated the air told him that what it was doing was closer to a salute than a clap. ¡°Okay, next.¡± The light immediately switched to a creature three spaces to the left of the goat. Tom was not surprised when he saw it was one of the desperate. It was a hippo, large and streamlined for swimming. Half of its mass actually rested in a pool. ¡°My people are called the Dusk. I am Swift. Hope. We have always been peaceful, and have coexisted with our neighbours for hundreds of generations. Seventy years ago a terror race band emerged from a previously unknown entrance to the Underground which has since been sealed. They had degenerated to become effectively feral. There was no reasoning or negotiating with them. They were happy to fight to the death if they took us with them, and that¡¯s what they did. Our heroes fought against them and held them long enough for aid to come from our neighbours. But the action caused us to suffer catastrophic losses. We went from having over a hundred heroes specced for teaching to having only six. Our future was stolen from us over a single week. Those five who survived are gone now. They successfully raised only three behind them. We became a diminishing race almost overnight. I was the brightest of my generation, and our people emptied our vaults to raise me as far as I can. If I fail, our people have no hope. Please, step aside and let them live¡± Swift Hope trailed into silence. The presenter bowed her head. ¡°The problems of others are never as compelling as our own, but we all know the gravity of the situation.¡± While the official scores hadn¡¯t been displayed anywhere, from the previous ladder and having seen who was still alive, Tom was confident he could guess where everyone sat. He was certain that he was currently in fifth place. Sure enough, the light switched to the first of the people currently active in the competition. It was a non-biological creature. Nothing as crazy as the spheres of different coloured balls he had fought in the colosseum, but it clearly didn¡¯t rely on anything as mundane as cells and blood flow in order to function. It could be best described as a chaotic pile of independent metal sections. It was what he would imagine a multitude of semi-sapient advanced robots would look like if they came together to form a single entity. That might even have been its species¡¯ origin story. Strength-wise, it had slightly over three times Tom¡¯s rank, and, while in its latest fight for it to be below him, it must have battled a five point five, and it would not hesitate to increase that difficulty. If it did so, it would only face something twice as strong in every attribute versus the ridiculous six times he had stupidly challenged. Even then, crossing that sort of gap was frankly incredible, but everyone in this room were the peak out of the probably trillions of eligible children that DEUS could have chosen from. At the lower ranks, combat prowess and skills went a lot further than they did at higher ranks where everyone had a base level of competency. ¡°I am of, and am called, Collective Iron. The collective iron are diminished.¡± It said in a wobbly voice. ¡°The collective doesn¡¯t possess a convenient sob story like the collective iron¡¯s predecessor had to share. All the collective iron can state is that we are diminished. It has been so for twenty generations on our count, and we should survive another ten, but...¡± It paused as it seemed to struggle to find the correct words. ¡°But the collective iron will fight to advance and gain renewal.¡± The presenter nodded, and, without further commentary, the light switched to highlight Tom. He hesitated and wondered what to say. He considered stepping aside, but his need to save Emily and also Briana and Eloise stopped him. This was survival, and the judgment of strangers was worth less than the horror which not doing the best he possibly could to save his friends and family would represent. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°We are in the competition now. It didn¡¯t use to be like that. On our home planet, humanity had grown to be over eight billion strong.¡± Tom paused as a surprising surge of emotion caught him by surprise and choked his voice up. Ruefully, he sighed and wiped away the tears that had started to form. ¡°We were living in our own world happily, and mostly peacefully. The majority of us were living safely, and then we were forced into the competition.¡± Tom lowered his head as the waterworks continued to form unbidden. Life had been great for most, and then it had become hell. ¡°We are not prepared for Existentia, and I¡¯m sure you all noted my suitability rating was classed as dismal. That rating applies to my entire species. It means we have no innate strength to help us, and so, in terms of the competition, placing lower than third does not represent a challenge for us. It means a mass death. Because we are weak, we can only have safety in numbers. If we are scattered around Existentia in small groups, the most innocuous of wildlife will slaughter us. My people are not ready for that, which is why I need the strength to ensure that doesn¡¯t happen. As the presenter said, we are rated at an extreme risk of extinction.¡± He stopped talking under the subtle pressure of the presenter. Tom didn¡¯t mind from how Swift Hope had ended her pleas abruptly. She had suffered under the same rules. Plus, he had expressed what he needed to say. ¡¯Tom didn¡¯t think he had swayed. He couldn¡¯t see how anyone above him would see humans as being more worthy that their own species, especially as the primary advantage the Divine Champions Trial gave was access to the equivalent of the experience shop, which was something every human over fifteen could already use. The light switched off him, and Tom¡¯s eyes ran over the remaining four contenders. There were three desperate ones, and one genius. None of the desperate ones were going to concede their spots willingly. At this point, the equation he faced was obvious. The Collective Iron, currently in sixth position, would fight a six and pass him. The three other desperate ones in front of him were intending to fight. None of them had extended themselves to the same ridiculous level Tom had. They had left the capacity to fight three rounds, if not four, comfortably. For him to get a place, he needed two of them to die, and he hated having to acknowledge that was what he was secretly wishing for, but he did it anyway. He was not one for self-delusion. ¡°Will that work?¡± He whispered. ¡°If two die, do I get in?¡± His trait activated, and everyone else around froze. ¡°Yes, if you choose not to fight and three of the five who then go ahead of you either die or abdicate, then yes, you will get through.¡± ¡°I have one other question,¡± he thought loudly, because he could no longer talk and he suspected she could hear. ¡°You don¡¯t have to shout so loudly. I am able to hear you just fine. While your trait makes it convenient to contact you, I can and do have these types of discussion with everyone else.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± he projected more softly. ¡°My question is about the wording of these fights. Is it just the act of fighting or do you need¡­?¡± She barked with laughter and interrupted him before he could finish. ¡°No, don¡¯t be ridiculous. You only earn points if you win. If you wished, you could try gambling. Not against a rank one hundred and five like you need to win, because no one that high is doing an arena trial currently. But there is a rank eighty-nine you could face with a partial god-shield that will give you enough points. Or, if that¡¯s our aim, there are tens of thousands between him and rank twenty six which meet your requirement. I personally wouldn¡¯t do it, as I think you¡¯ll get crushed against all of them, but you can try if you want.¡± Tom smiled. ¡°It¡¯s probably worth it, isn¡¯t it? There¡¯s always a chance they¡¯ll see it as funny and let me live. As I understand it, most people don¡¯t like killing children, even if they are of another species.¡± ¡°No, it won¡¯t work. Unsurprisingly, the system is set up to avoid loopholes. All those on the other side of these matches do not have the right to surrender. For them, it is win or die.¡± ¡°Then that means there¡¯s no point fighting.¡± ¡°Unless you are willing to risk death by going up against a six point five.¡± ¡°That¡¯s suicide.¡± ¡°Yes, and it¡¯s commendable you recognise that. And don¡¯t raise the fact you¡¯re an adult. I know that, and I¡¯ve seen many adults make stupid decisions in these circumstances. It¡¯s easy to gamble in the hope of hitting a jackpot and foolishly believe you¡¯re the chosen one. I¡¯ve watched in horror as otherwise smart people died because of that attitude. And I would imagine the temptation is even higher for humans with active fate in play, so, I repeat, it is admirable that you¡¯re resisting the enticement.¡± Tom nodded, and the presenter returned him to normal time. The ritual continued, and he listened to the next four state their respective cases. The words of the genius were the most interesting. Its civilisation was on the cusp of becoming diminishing. It was not declining yet, but there were signs that they were starting to lose some skills. Nevertheless, the person formally stated, that, despite the fact it could safely finish in the top two, it was giving up its position and would not be taking one of the precious spots. That just left the last three still in the running. The pot plant was one of them along with the turtle dog who had tried to be kind to him. Both had, if he was being honest. The final person in contention was a big, hulking creature. He was almost three metres tall, with two legs, three tails and four arms, and, given he was getting in on his merits, he didn¡¯t have to say anything, but he did anyway. He wove a story about how, when he was younger, the village used to eat mushrooms and the algae from the nearby pools to survive. Then, two years ago, the mushrooms had stopped coming. One of the critical hunters of their cavern had died, and it was now too dangerous to harvest the mushrooms. They reverted to only living off the tasteless and barely nutritious algae. Their food was supplemented by trade missions, but they too had been becoming steadily more rare. When once it had only required a couple of strong guards to keep wagons safe, the losses they had suffered meant those people were all in the official armies. Contact between the outer settlements instead fell to non-fighters. Every mission needed forty to fifty adults to escort them, and they still failed occasionally, with all hands lost. The elders of his village had decided they were going to leave with the next trade caravan to move closer to the capital, but they were worried about the starvation that would cause, because the food crisis was even worse in the denser population areas. He had thought the problem might have been a war, but the elders said that they been diminishing for generations, and it was just encroachment of a section of the Underground that was causing the bulk of the problems. Given that story, just like the others, he was not giving up his spot. As he trailed into silence, the presenter clicked her fingers, and the ladder appeared. The scores were exactly as he had predicted. Two equal with him, one clearly in the lead and the final person a little behind. Their next successful challenge would push them ahead of him, because there was no way he was walking into certain death. Tom thought about the conditions required for him to win, and then shut his eyes and tried to drive the images away. He didn¡¯t want to imagine any of them dying. ¡°And we are done?¡± The presenter said suddenly. To Tom¡¯s perspective only a few seconds had passed, and his eyes snapped open in surprise. He immediately looked to his right where two of the remaining contenders were. Horror filled him when he saw the empty spot where the kind turtle dog had been. The pot plant had survived. Admittedly, it looked significantly battered. His heart leapt in response. A mixture of excitement, joy, and despair. He shut his eyes as he dealt with that surge of emotion. That meant there was one dead, and if one other died¡­ He didn¡¯t want to open his eyes and check. Until then, he was in the divine championship trial and had done it without the guilt of having only made it by climbing over dead bodies. He knew those outcomes were mutually exclusive, but, for now, he could have both simultaneously. For the life of him, if he had a choice, he didn¡¯t know what he wanted. Did he want one of the other two to have died? Yes, no, no. There was a flash of memory of his family and Briana. His heart firmed. Yes. He did want to get in and now he didn¡¯t want to open them in case both of them were still alive. It was enough to make him scream. ¡°And the three spots are filled.¡± The presenter declared, and he realised he didn¡¯t have a choice. Chapter 79.1 – Closure Tom re-opened his eyes and stared at the spot the turtle dog had previously occupied. Despite all of her strength and that dangerous-looking natural armour, she had somehow failed while fighting her six-point five target. His rule of thumb during the tutorial and in his first life on Existentia had been that, when fighting monsters, he could cross a thirty percent rank difference. That freedom he gave himself was far less when fighting sapients. She had fought something with a rank fifty percent higher than hers, which mathematically gave her a five times raw attribute disadvantage. Without fate sizing up his opponent for him, Tom knew he would lose badly against those types of odds. The five times estimate might have seemed like an exaggeration, but that¡¯s what a bonus of fifty percent to all four metrics got you. Fifty percent more spells hit fifty percent harder, move fifty percent quicker and more accurately, and then, even if you could match all of that, the other person was also fifty percent harder to kill. All of those small advantages added up. If she had run into someone even half as naturally talented as she was, the gap in attributes would have meant she would have been trounced. That was the fine line they were walking, and Tom felt terrible about her not making it. She had been nice to him and recognised that he was not callous, but just a victim of ignorance. In contrast to most of them, she had been a genuine rank four and half-way to rank five. Unlike Tom, she would have been fighting someone less than twice her rank, but abilities mattered when crossing attributes gaps like that. It was possible that she had lacked the tools to push even over that small gap. After all, she was a child, and how much could she have learnt? What Briana knew, for example, would be useless in this sort of battle. Then again, other civilisations were probably giving their children skill shards rather than following humanity¡¯s approach of forcing them to learn everything from the first principles. The pot plant at least was still here, and he could tell by how its vines spread out that it was shocked at the death of its neighbour. Quietly, and because it was going to happen no matter what he did, he checked out the rest of the room. His eyes went straight across to the powerful combatant, the one who lived off algae. He stood there, uninjured. Then his eyes slid around the circle to the last of the final six. Collective Iron, that jumble of metal pieces, was missing. Two dead. The realisation caused his brain to grind to a halt. Two of them had died, one had abstained, which meant just the act of preserving his own life had¡­ it felt surreal to even be considering the idea. Somehow, he had got the spot. He kept expecting the rug to be pulled out and for someone to burst into the room, maybe teleport, laughing and crowing at how well their prank had done. Nothing like that happened. ¡°Human?¡± His head snapped up, and he looked at the presenter in shock. She was staring straight at him. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Everyone, he realised, was staring at him, because his area was highlighted with light. ¡°You are currently in the third spot.¡± The presenter told him. ¡°Will you claim one of the positions or will you abstain to allow another to take it?¡± Tom was thrown by that question. If he had thought about it, he would have known it was coming, but, to be honest, he had assumed he wasn¡¯t getting through, and so this wasn¡¯t a question he had prepared for. His eyes unbidden switched to Swift Hope, who was the next in line if he chose to step away. ¡°Give it to me, please.¡± Swift hope blubbered instantly. ¡°We have local support. We¡¯ve sealed the entrance to the underground. And¡­ um¡­ The nearby nation of Huddas has declared they will protect us. They also worship Deus, and they are powerful.¡± ¡°So why can¡¯t they raise your abilities back up?¡± the pot plant person asked. ¡°Why is it on us to sacrifice rather than the Huddas?¡± Swift Hope deflated slightly, but only a little. ¡°They would if they could, but they specialise in body abilities, and, because they have a jellyfish form, they can¡¯t pass their skills on to us. But from a military perspective, they are going to aid us. All we need is a single chance to get access to the skills. I¡¯ll get them and become a teacher, and, in a generation we can be restored. I need this. I¡¯ll be a hero. Please, be kind. This is our only opportunity.¡± Tom stood, almost paralysed with indecision. His eyes flicked to the two who had also made it in. They, he guessed, were going to be his teammates going forward. What did they think? ¡°It¡¯s your choice. Neither of us will judge you,¡± the pot plant told him. ¡°Only you personally know how close to extinction your race is, and, to be honest, it sounds like Swift Hope¡¯s people are not in dire straits.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± the tall, strong other qualifier stated. ¡°I agree a hundred percent. Swift Hope¡¯s people have protection for now. I¡¯m sure some time in the next ten generations another genius will emerge that can save them.¡± ¡°No, we don¡¯t know that,¡± Swift Hope protested. Tom met the presenter¡¯s eyes. ¡°What does Deus want me to do?¡± ¡°DEUS has set the rules. She has no incentive to interfere further. You must make this choice for yourself.¡± ¡°Please, please, this is all my species¡¯ need. You will be forever honoured. I¡¯ll get statues of you put up.¡± Those words were the wrong ones to say to Tom. He could imagine a future where the only signs of humanity were those so-called statues. An honour given to a species so weak they didn¡¯t seize the opportunity to save themselves. ¡°I¡¯ll take the spot.¡± He told the room. He heard a squeal of anguish, and, the next thing he knew, he was back in the isolation room. Instinctively, he blinked in an out of the pseudo system room and confirmed that no time had passed, despite the hours he had spent healing himself and the more limited time spent fighting and talking. Time dilation had been in play, and reduced that all to zero. Tom froze when he glanced around the physical space. He understood how many defences and wards were in place to protect him in here, but, despite that, the presenter was sitting, unconcerned, in a chair that didn¡¯t use to exist. ¡°Congratulations, Tom.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here to give you a brief overview of what The Divine Champions¡¯ trial is.¡± She waved her hand, and the arm and spear that he¡¯d gotten from down below vanished. ¡°I¡¯ve returned them to storage in their correct spots. No one will ever know they were taken.¡± ¡°Um¡­oh¡­ that¡¯s very thoughtful. But how?¡± She laughed. ¡°How what? How am I here? How did I teleport the items below despite all the restrictions?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to ask. It just slipped out.¡± He backtracked hurriedly. ¡°Tom, I¡¯m the most powerful being you¡¯ve ever met face to face. I oversee the DEUS part of the champions¡¯ trial. I¡¯m gifted with her power, but constrained by rules. When I can bend them, I do. Like with returning your armour. That was something I can do within the rules, as it was out because of the contender challenge. Because I can act and it could help you, I did.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± He remembered the full circumstances that brought her here, and the drama at the end. ¡°Um¡­ was I right to do as I did? Will the Dusk die because of it? That girl, Swift Hope, she seemed pretty upset.¡± Chapter 79.2 – Closure ¡°She was,¡± the presenter agreed. ¡°I¡¯m chatting with her at the moment. She¡¯s going to regret her words for a while. She is upset, because she overplayed the support the Huddas can give them, and she did that because she thought that was what you needed to hear to come to her side. Their survival is a more precarious case than she implied. But you already knew that, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I did. The extinction chance you gave them was Highly Likely.¡± ¡°Exactly; so, to answer your question, will they live¡­ Maybe, maybe not. But with a bias toward the latter. Having said that, humanity rated under the same metrics is in a worse spot than the Dusk. Swift Hope expressed more desperation than one in her place should have. Technically, I should have stopped her speaking sooner.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡± He asked the obvious question. ¡°Because your choice was not simple, and you had to be the one to make it. If you made it, you would understand the desperation that comes with being a diminishing species. I want you to remember this, and, if humanity climbs on the ladder and survives, I need you to spread that truth, and make sure that, if humans run into a diminishing species, that they will help them.¡± Tom thought about that for a moment. ¡°I see, and I will.¡± ¡°As for the Dusk, whether they are successful or not is not your concern, and not something you¡¯ll ever realistically be able to influence. Their homeland is a long way from here, so forget about them. Instead, I want to inform you about The Divine Champions¡¯ trial. As you¡¯ve probably guessed, its primary format is a one-versus-one battle against the participants of other gods. There are five categories: first, juvenile one and two - obviously, you¡¯re in that first category. Then there are two adolescent classes, and an open characterisation. Then, once a year, there are also larger team contests. The time spent in each category depends on the species, but for humans it¡¯s about two of your years, and if and every time you mature up to a higher category, you¡¯ll get a debuff placed on you.¡± ¡°You get a what?¡± ¡°You get a debuff placed on you. It is a ten percent penalty on all attributes. It can compound three times if you¡¯re strong enough to stay in until the end.¡± ¡°Do I need to worry about that? I mean, is it possible for that to even come into play?¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s no need to beat around the bush. Are you asking if you¡¯re likely to keep your spot? Because I don¡¯t think you need to. You should be able to answer that yourself.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right. Yes,¡± Tom concluded after a moment¡¯s thought. ¡°There¡¯s no reason I couldn¡¯t stay in until adolescent two. Corrine told me that humans are most likely to gain entrance as an eleven-year-old. That means I¡¯ll be growing relatively faster than all of them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a fair hypothesis,¡± the presenter agreed. ¡°Your attributes will triple, and your abilities should be able to grow five or six times more powerful over that period, so, if you keep improving, then yes. It¡¯s possible, but having your attributes reduced by a third is a material debuff, so your continuation in the competition is not guaranteed.¡± Tom listened to that explanation and decided to move on to more grounded considerations. ¡°So, how many people are there in each category?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a maximum of thirty-two representatives of DEUS.¡± ¡°A maximum?¡± He asked sharply. ¡°People die, and others age out of the category. For most of the time, we¡¯re below capacity.¡± He wanted to ask about mortality rates, but something told him that now was not the right time to be doing so. Instead, he focused on the number of participants. ¡°That¡¯s an awful lot of opposing contestants. That¡¯s, what, over two hundred? I assume that all eight GODs are in this?¡± ¡°Yes and yes, and individual fights can take place at a maximum of two per week. With the turnover, it¡¯s mathematically impossible to fight everyone out there.¡± Tom hesitated as he tried to wrap his head around those calculations before he worked it out. If he survived in the first category for the whole two years, he would only have two hundred fights, which wasn¡¯t enough to challenge all of them. If they went in as a single class, where they all joined at the same time, then there would have been time to fight all of them. Instead, based on this contenders¡¯ event, ten percent of the population would be turned over, presumably from both deaths and category retirement, probably monthly, or at best every three months. It meant that, over his ¡®child one¡¯ years, it was possible that there could be anywhere from three hundred and fifty participants to over eight hundred. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I understand,¡± he told her, but he wanted more information, so needed to ask more questions and skirt the line of what was proper to talk about. ¡°How often do you do recruitments?¡± ¡°A clever one, aren¡¯t you?¡± He didn¡¯t answer her and let silence ask his question. ¡°They¡¯re monthly.¡± She finally admitted. Tom whistled. That was a massive turnover rate. ¡°Often, there are only two spots available. To answer what you really wanted to know but were too craven to ask, only fifty percent of people survive the full period. They get desperate and greedy and bite off more than they can chew. But you can talk strategy with the others once you¡¯ve had your first fight.¡± ¡°What else do I need to know?¡± ¡°Your contender room has transformed into a champions¡¯ foyer and is permanently available to you. When utilised, your body will be puppeteered to act as normal. From it, you have access to a communal area in which you can chat with all of DEUS¡¯s current competitors.¡± ¡°All of them?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes, you¡¯ll be able to chat with Corrine, and even with the people from the open category when you¡¯re in there. Matches are to the death, or are ended when a surrender is offered and accepted. It¡¯s important to note that GOD shields are available, with every win being awarded coins on the same multiplier as in the contender rounds.¡± ¡°How much is a coin worth?¡± ¡°Be patient. I was getting to that. Coins can be traded to other participants, or else used in the equivalent of an experience shop with two purchases being allowed every three months. There, you can make two purchases each quarter. As a rule of thumb, a tier-one ability costs a single coin. Six coins for a tier-three skill, and then three times that for every additional tier after. An average performance gets you two tier-three abilities each quarter, while winning half your battles without a GOD¡¯s shield gets you a single tier-seven ability every three months.¡± Tom whistled, both impressed and not. If he fought under a GOD¡¯s shield, he was only going to walk out with a scattering of low-tiered abilities, or, if he saved up for years, a couple of more powerful ones. Of course, if he could fight without a GOD¡¯s shield the entire time, the loot he would leave with would be unimaginable. She sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t get greedy. You can die for real, and a partial GOD¡¯s shield is not the protection you¡¯re probably imagining it to be.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Under a partial shield, you can be maimed in ways healing can¡¯t fix.¡± ¡°Are you sure? Touch Heal might be tier-zero, but if I have time, I can regrow limbs.¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m certain. How well does Touch Heal work when your soul is damaged? There are things that can be done to you that are more permanent than the loss of a couple of limbs. Anything other than a full GOD¡¯s shield is gambling.¡± ¡°I see.¡± ¡°And yet you¡¯re planning on doing it anyway,¡± she said sharply. ¡°What would April think of your recklessness?¡± ¡°Honestly, I think she¡¯ll trust my judgment. I have some ideas to manage the risk.¡± ¡°Fate is not the panacea for everything.¡± ¡°Really? It seems pretty overwhelming.¡± Tom said quietly. ¡°Especially against random opponents.¡± ¡°No. Forget everything you¡¯re scheming and listen to my words carefully. You won¡¯t be able to avoid the deadly antagonists, as the system won¡¯t let you. Not even fate can keep them from you, as the order is not random. It has the GOD¡¯s influence upon it.¡± ¡°Noted. As I said, I have a few ideas.¡± ¡°You¡¯re stupid and reckless. I should have made you cede the spot to Swift Hope.¡± ¡°Maybe, but you didn¡¯t. Now you¡¯re just going to have to trust me.¡± ¡°You¡¯re impossible. But moving on; in addition to the experience shop, there is a curated list that contains items that DEUS thinks you should prioritise. While it can contain items, yours currently only contains abilities. They¡¯re all useful to you, and some are posted at a deep discount from normal prices. They are basically what you should be working towards.¡± Something was bothering him. The GODs already had both an auction house and the experience shop. It didn¡¯t make sense to Tom that they weren¡¯t just recycling that infrastructure. ¡°Why are the rewards called coins? Why are they using a new currency?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not new.¡± She waved her hands in a series of coins cascaded out of her open palm to bounce on the ground before vanishing. ¡°They¡¯re tangible; it¡¯s possible to trade them like you do with money, and they have real world value. All trials will accept them as a substitute for experience, and, in some, they can expand options, or even improve prize pools.¡± ¡°So, what should I do? Should I be hoarding them?¡± The presenter shrugged. ¡°Some competitors, once they¡¯ve done enough to reverse the fortune of their species, do exactly that. You¡¯ll need to decide once you can see what they can buy. For now, go to your champion¡¯s room, check it out. While you do so, your body will get up and sneak back to bed, so you don¡¯t have to worry about that. The only thing you have to remember is any injuries you have when you leave the champion¡¯s foyer will be transferred into the real world. Given your healing gift, that shouldn¡¯t be a problem. Just stay in there until you¡¯re fully healed.¡± ¡°And if I die?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters, does it.¡± She said severely. ¡°But you know the answer, even if you¡¯re not verbalizing it.¡± Tom understood what she was implying. ¡°The wounds will be brought into reality. If I¡¯m decapitated and half my body eaten, then, whoosh, that¡¯ll happen in the real world. That¡¯ll be traumatising for any kids around me.¡± ¡°Yes, it will be. I¡¯m sure you can work out how to manage that.¡± And then, having apparently given him enough information, she faded away to nothing. ¡°So, I¡¯m still stuck only fighting at night,¡± he said quietly to the empty room. Of course, she didn¡¯t answer. She was gone. While he didn¡¯t want to think about dying, the cost of managing such an unimaginable event was low. ¡°Damn it. I guess it¡¯s night battles only,¡± he concluded. Tom glanced around the empty isolation room. The presenter was right. There were more fun things to pursue than sneaking back to bed. With a cheeky grin, he stepped into the champion¡¯s foyer. It was time to throw himself into the nitty-gritty details and discover exactly what was on offer. Chapter 80.1 – Curated Prizes

Once he entered the newly-renamed champions¡¯ foyer, he could immediately see the differences introduced to it. The layout had changed, even if the smooth metal walls were the same. The floor plan had expanded slightly. There was a door to his left that, as the knowledge deposited directly into his brain told him, led to the lobby where he could meet other people. Right above it was a countdown clock that showed it would be almost four days before he could have his first official fight. Based on the missing minutes, he was sure it was exactly four days from when he declared he was taking the available spot. Then on the opposite wall, there were buttons for both a store and a curated purchase list. Tom smiled and wondered how close this was to his system room of old. ¡°Status!¡± he ordered in a confident voice. He felt a brief thrill of excitement as the text populated the wall; then he frowned as he realised that it was not one created dynamically by the system, but rather the version he had compiled by hand with no new additions. ¡°Well, that sucks.¡± He muttered even though he had never truly expected that loophole to exist. If this had given him access to his system early, it would have been a massive unexpected bonus. ¡°What else can this room do?¡± he asked himself. He guessed it should have the same functionality as the pseudo-system room, at the very least. Tom shut his eyes momentarily and focused on the layout he had used for the weeks the assassins had trapped him in here. The room shimmered as the desired furniture came into being. There were large monitors to show what his body was doing, and a convenient couch to lounge on. Absently, he checked the monitor - and then jumped in surprise. His body was about to push the button to leave the room. That was not something he could afford just yet. Hurriedly, he took back control and immediately went over to the ritual status screen. The presenter had said they were all going to get a title, and he was worried that, if he left it until his next session in an isolation room, he might not be able to find it again, as he had no idea of what it might relate to. He placed his hand on the ritual control, focused on revealing the most recent addition to his status sheet, then triggered the ritual. Instantly, the text appeared: Title: Divine Challenge Contender: Eligibility for classes reduced. Any class that you satisfy all but one requirement for can now be selected. Awarded for: Being a contender for the Divine Champions Trial. Legendary Title: Competition Rank 8th. 50 Ranking Points awarded Tom first noted that seven other people had gotten as far as him in the competition. Given how long humanity¡¯s reincarnators had been around, it wasn¡¯t really a surprise when he thought about it. Then he re-read what the title gave him. For someone in his position, it didn¡¯t seem particularly useful, but he could see the immense value that it would give to a diminishing race. Besides, was clear, at least for DEUS, that her focus was on leveraging the most she could out of the Divine Champion¡¯s trial. For them, the usual reason they became diminished was an inability to teach skills and spells to their young. Over time, it meant the newer generations would lose the ability to meet the requirements for classes, which would further reduce the quantity of abilities they had available. Those small effects would keep compounding, until the entire species were caught in a death spiral. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Even if someone didn¡¯t get in and get access to the additional resources, this title would be a huge help. It would explode the number of class options available to them, and hopefully enable them to seize an otherwise unobtainable, powerful class that could form a new backbone for their species. It was, he had to admit, clever. For him, someone in the competition who could buy most class requirements with experience, it had limited utility. On the margin, it could help. Who knows, there might be a perfect legendary class out there that he would only get access to because of this¡­ but he kind of doubted it. The most likely outcome was that the best class for him would be something he qualified for anyway. After all, by the time he turned fifteen, he expected to be a powerhouse. With a shrug, he returned his mind to the champion¡¯s foyer. He flopped onto the couch and watched, amused, as his body left the room and, looking absolutely terrified, started the process of sneaking back to bed with a hilarious lack of skill. A wry grin split his face, and, his mood recovering slightly after the disaster of the contenders contest, he turned his attention to the additional functionality that this new room granted him. With a thought, the basic store interface opened up and displayed itself on the wall, ready for him to browse. Tom got to work quickly. Since he was familiar with them from his training developing Spark, he checked the lightning spells first. From what he could see, it was identical to what had been available in the experience shop. With mounting excitement, he dug deeper into the myriad of options. He reviewed the traits, titles, bloodlines and items. Everything was the same as he remembered. apart from items being greyed out with a message stating: Need a solution to teleport into the real world before physical items can be purchased. Tom didn¡¯t care too much about the restriction. The fact the message had come up at all meant that there would be a remedy. Plus, items weren¡¯t that important. What mattered was knowledge, and this place had everything he needed for his advanced planning. He would be able to map out every single spell, skill, and trait that he wanted in his final build, and create a plan for the optimal way and order to acquire them. It was amazing. He was getting the functionality he needed four years early. So many of the grey areas in his knowledge could be cleaned up now. He could get hard data on issues that had troubled him since he was reincarnated. In response to that thought, he had an idea. ¡°Domains,¡± he ordered, and the interface responded instantly, showing five random domains. ¡°Show Multipurpose Domains only.¡± A random selection came up. Tom leant forward from where he was still sitting on his couch, suddenly attentive. He hadn¡¯t expected such a broad search term to give him what he needed, but he had anticipated that at least one of domains that would be shown would be partially along the lines that he was after. Instead, none of them advanced his understanding. ¡°I mean, show domains with multiple elemental types.¡± He clarified, leaning on specifics to dig into what he wanted. Another eight domains appeared. They were all wide, general ones, with three constructed to boost magic and five focused on buffing. He shook his head. While he now had effectively unlimited time in here, he was being careless with his word choice. ¡°Show domains that support both Earth and Lightning elemental spells.¡± He frowned when the same jumble of domains as earlier appeared. There was a lovely tier-ten domain. Skill: Domain of Elemental Mastery ¨C Tier 10 All Elemental spells originating within a hundred metres of the caster are ten times more powerful. It did what he wanted, and a lot more on top of that. But Tom could tell that he would never meet the requirements to create something like that. It covered every type of element, and he didn¡¯t have the time to build expertise in so many directions. Impatiently, he flicked through the first few pages of the listed domains. None of them were a specific lightning and earth domain. They were all general ones. Annoyance and concern flared inside him, with an edge of panic. This was not what he expected, and it was not good news. ¡°Show me domains that only have Lightning and Earth aspects.¡± Chapter 80.2 – Curated Prizes For a poignant moment, nothing happened. Then, almost reluctantly, suggestions were populated. There were lightning domains that specialised in damaging fortifications: earth domains that were resistant to lightning, and lots of similar examples. It was all technically what he asked for, but not what he was looking for, and he knew that probing the system further wouldn¡¯t help. It had known from his questions what he had wanted it to display, and these were the best options it could come up with. The brief flash of amusement he had felt while watching the avatar of his younger self sneak back was gone. This was a spanner in his plans. The domain he had been planning to create, which was a fusing of his other abilities, apparently didn¡¯t exist in a ready form, or else was going to require some creative thinking to establish. He needed to get more information or to revise his plan completely, which was something he wasn¡¯t prepared to do. He shut his eyes so not to let the anger show. Tom forced himself to breathe in deeply and consider everything rationally. His knowledge of domains which he had incorporated into his plan had been clearly flawed. The question was, what could he do to fix that? He thought about Dimitri, and then looked at the door to his right. Hopefully, there were sources of knowledge available in the champion¡¯s lobby that could fix this. Everything he was interested in should be basic knowledge to the experts in the open section. Hopefully, one of those could help him. Failing that, Dimitri, and possibly his own elbow grease, would have to step up. If he spent sufficient time scouring the shop for all available domains, it was possible he would get a clue about what was happening. He very much hoped that there was a simple solution to his problem. As it was, his plan to merge his different elemental spells and skills into a single domain, was dead on arrival. That fact would also screw his plans to get the maximum value out of the bonus granted by the title, for getting a fourth class. He guessed those plans could be adjusted if a domain of everything was not possible. For now, he had better things to focus on. The last thing he wanted to do before seeing what was on the curated list was to baseline the cost of traits. He quickly brought up the traits he had purchased previously, and whistled at the price. It was expected, but still, seeing each of them costing hundreds of coins really highlighted both the opportunity and the danger associated with the Divine Champions¡¯ trial. On the plus side, buying a trait meant as little as a few months of fighting, but that was assuming everything went perfectly. More practically, they could be guaranteed. He would be able to actually acquire them. It would take a year, but, given that Everlyn hadn¡¯t been able to source a suitable trait despite the resources of a hundred thousand people, having this option available at all was a boon. The fact that he could get a customized trait which was perfect for him if he put the work in was significant. Not that he was likely to bother, as an eighth of the Divine Affinity Fruit was probably more valuable. While he had a plan of how to maximise coins while avoiding undue risk, he doubted he would be fighting regularly without a GOD¡¯s shield, let alone winning every fight when he did so. Given how weak he was compared to the other two of DEUS¡¯s champions, he expected to lose pretty consistently - at least, until he beefed up his skills. Slightly annoyed at the thought of him being impotent, he focused on the curated list, and the text printed on the walls changed. Slowly, he read through the list and then raised his eyebrows at how few items were included. There were only six in total. Before diving into the detail, he took a moment to think about what these entries implied. Those first three, with their massive discounts screamed at him to buy them as soon as possible, even if such thoughts were impractical. Spatial Storage would allow him to purchase equipment directly from the shop, but, given that he didn¡¯t want to waste valuable coins on physical items, he wasn¡¯t sure if he would put it on his shopping list immediately. On the other hand, it would be useful in real life, which made him mentally push its value up slightly. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The storage was interesting, but it was the Divine Affinity Fruit that caught his attention. His mind struggled to calculate what that implied price represented. It was a tier-eleven or twelve item, and, even with its massive discount, he felt that it was unobtainable. It would literally take him over two years with a perfect record, with every fight being without a GOD¡¯s shield, to get it. Even if he managed to keep his spot for the next nine years, Tom was not sure he would ever win sufficient coins to afford it, especially since he would need to be spending them on boosting his strength just to stay in contention. It hurt to do so, given how unattainable it was, but he couldn¡¯t help but dive in and read what a tier-twelve natural treasure could do. Consumable Treasure: Divine Affinity Fruit*. This item improves every affinity of those who consume it. Note: At the lower and upper point of the range the increase granted may be higher and lower respectively than expected due to smoothing. These values are a guide only. i.e. If your starting affinity is 39 a full fruit will raise you affinity by 28. At this increase will only be 27 not the 20 average of that tier. * Can be purchased in segments of an eighth of the fruit. Note if an affinity is raised by a partial number a lower impact of the increase is expected than linear interpolation would suggest. Tom absorbed the information, especially the note. While he doubted he would be able to afford a full fruit, he might manage to save up a sufficient amount for a half. That would boost his precognition impact by sixty percent and his lightning and earth spells by thirty percent, while the rest of his affinities would also get a similar gain. Basically, it was a permanent and significant increase to his magical abilities, which was something experience couldn¡¯t buy. And, if he managed to crack the duels and bought the full fruit, the power of his precognition, instead of increasing by sixty percent, would jump by over five times. That was the true value of the offering. The whole thing was clearly the long-term carrot DEUS was dangling in front of him to encourage him to perform as strongly as he could. It might be manipulative, but he didn¡¯t care. He was doing it, Tom swore to himself. He was going to get it. The next item on the curated list that he studied was the second entry, and the only one he felt that was out of place. Trait: Dimensional Body. Tunes the body to dimensional energy, reducing the cost for portals and teleport-aligned abilities by 60%. He could see how this fed into his long-term plans, and it was a powerful trait to add, but it felt strange to have it thrust into his face right now. Still, when he considered the teleport options he had possessed in his last life, having the frequency and potential range of them more than double would have been a huge boon. As he currently lacked anything that could take advantage of a Dimensional Body, he decided to ignore it for now. Finally, there was the other majorly discounted item. Trait: Spatial Storage. Provides four cubed meters of highly responsive spatial storage. It was not a growth trait. But, given it started with so much, the starting volume that didn¡¯t matter. For a trade caravan, the available space it added was not a lot, but for a warrior that would use it to keep weapons, trinkets and money, it had more than he needed. Four cubed metres was more storage than you could pack into a car without any passengers. It was more than enough for his personal consumption needs. Before deciding what to do, he clicked on the spear skill. Skill: Shadow Spear ¨C Tier 3 Create a shadow spear that follows the trajectory of your own weapon within two centimetres and imparts 80% of the primary weapon¡¯s damage. Note: This can be delivered in three ways.
  1. Granted immediately.
  2. If spatial storage is available, as a skill stone.
  3. If spatial storage is available and a relevant training trial is accessible, then it can be taken as a skill plan to be used within the trial.
Personalised Advice: If the skill is invested into the training trial you will have 45% chance of acquiring after 40 hours of training, 65% after 80 and 72% after 120 hours. Tom stared at the note. It explained exactly why the spatial storage was first on his list with the largest discount. It was needed for him to do this. Having only a seventy-two percent chance of acquiring it might have seemed like bad odds, but that was a risk he was willing to gain. Even if he failed to absorb some of the skills, which what that acquisition rate suggested would happen, that high of a percentage meant he could acquire three or four higher-tiered skills through his own effort each year. That would be absolutely massive when it came to advancing his title. Smiling brightly, Tom rubbed his hands together. He still needed to find out what the lobby was like, and whether it was a place that was worth investing time in. Short-term, until he learned the lay of the competition, so to speak, he had no choice but to spend time there, as he was in desperate need of more information about how the coming fights were going to play out. He looked at the door, and knew that was his next step. Chapter 81.1 – Introductions Tom decided to test the waters immediately and strode straight to the door. It was time to gain some more information. Nevertheless, he paused for a moment before going through. There was always a certain excitement, the feeling of the great unknown that was fun to savour. He wondered what the lobby was going to be like. Once he went through the door, would it be to a grandiose castle, a roughhouse adventurer-style pub from the stories, or an idyllic landscape like the place where April sent him to do battle? Despite his extensive experience, he was at a loss at what he was about to see. Guessing the desires and thought patterns of a GODDESS was beyond a mortal. There was even the possibility of a more exotic presentation of the lobby, with every individual person getting a unique, tailored construction. He bit his lip, then laughing at himself he opened the door and strode through the rippling portal on the other side. He was teleported instantly. He could feel the change in the ground under his feet, a shift in the ambient noise. He froze and glanced around, slightly perplexed. The world he found himself in was nothing like what he had expected. The sky was stretching infinitely far above him, and it was the same with the horizons, but what he knew was the habitable area wasn¡¯t what he had been anticipating. His feet stood upon a cushioning blue dense ground cover made up of lots of little leaves. The air temperature around him was almost perfect. There was slight, but pleasant radiant heat from the sun combining wonderfully with a cooling, but not cold breeze. However, that pleasant environment was just for the area where he stood. DEUS had clearly chosen a lobby space filled with lots of micro-habitats. Close enough for him to reach out and touch was one of the invisible walls that demarcated the different areas. On his side, it was warm and pleasant. Curiosity got the better of him, and he thrust his hand through the pane of energy that separated him from the hellish winter. His hand felt the swirling snow and the tugging breeze. The temperature stung, and when he drew his fingers back, the snowflakes that were clinging to him melted rapidly. Tom watched the environment carefully. None of the snow or wind had breached the barrier directly. It was a swirling blizzard that was completely accessible, but also absolutely cut off from the temperate environment that he was in. He wanted to jump through and see what would happen, but he resisted the impulse in order to glance around more curiously. Twenty metres in front of him there were pools of magma that looked hot; unlike the blizzard, this was an environment that would be rapidly deadly as opposed to merely briefly uncomfortable. From where he stood, he could see seven different water domains. Only two were steaming, but at least one pool had large ice blocks in it. Adjacent to the magnum was an area filled with what looked like swirling embers. It all made a lot of sense: if you drew in people from everywhere, you needed a variety of environments to house them. He finished his little spin, and then focused on what mattered. A short distance away with his feet on the same blue not quite grass was the pot plant from the contender contest. Its vines were currently stretched out to expand it to three times its usual size, and Tom got the impression of a country bumpkin gaping, mouth open, at the sky-scrapers in a modern city. The magic that had allowed him to interpret body language in the contender¡¯s circle was clearly active here as well. Tom couldn¡¯t blame it for its over-the-top reaction. He kind of felt like doing it, too. The environment was spectacular, extraordinarily magical while remaining practical. Most of the specific terrains exited to a large, central paved area with a big boulder in the middle; those that didn¡¯t appeared to have portals that probably served the same purpose. Stolen story; please report. ¡°Excuse me¡­¡± Tom jerked around in surprise at the unexpected voice. A creature had appeared between him and the blizzard. It might have stepped out of the storm, but Tom suspected it had teleported, because there was snow on it or evidence of it having melted off either. The creature was roughly humanoid and seemed to be a golem. While it was sculptured to look like a human, none of its features were quite right. Besides, it was extraordinarily weathered, like a marble statue that had been left outside for a couple of hundred years. ¡°Um¡­ yes,¡± Tom answered cautiously. ¡°I¡¯m your assigned guide.¡± There was an abrupt whistle and then a crash as the thing he was talking to exploded. A sticky, wet substance splashed outwards. It splattered everywhere apart from on him, he realised when he checked his clothes. Then he stared at what had done the damage. It, too, was perfectly clean. It was a heavy stone the size of a beach ball that had apparently squished the construct which had been his assigned guide. The fact it was perfectly clean spoke to high-levelled, directed magic. Briefly, Tom searched his surroundings to see if there was anyone noticeably watching him. Then he glanced down in disgust at the liquid that had gone everywhere. His now thoroughly in-operatable guide, despite its appearance, had clearly never been a golem¡­. Perhaps, it was a magical construct or exotic summon of some type - Tom didn¡¯t have the knowledge to tell. The stone moved slightly, and Tom tensed up. The rock opened its eyes. ¡°Apologies for the dramatics. They get a bit icky when cannonballed, but I had to act fast so you wouldn¡¯t be subjected to them. The constructs are dumb and super annoying if you¡¯re forced to interact with them. This way, you¡¯re saved. Now, am I correct in assuming that this is your first time here? You¡¯re a recruit for the child one bucket, right?¡± He stared at the creature in shock, momentarily unable to get his brain around the incongruity of the moment. ¡°Is that right? Are you in the child one bucket? Hey there? Are you listening? Or are you one of those creatures that think really slowly? Do I need to give you more time?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. I was just surprised. Yes, I¡¯m in child bucket one. I¡¯m trying to work out how everything around here works.¡± ¡°Great. I once inducted a stone elemental. It was so slow¡± The rock winked at him. ¡°Let¡¯s go. I have things to show you.¡± It hadn¡¯t moved, but Tom staggered as a massive weight landed on his shoulders; then it shifted to his back and proceeded to shove him forward. It was as though multiple bouncers had their thick, meaty hands against his back, pushing. Being rock-handled in a way that he could not resist, he was herded toward the large central area that he had already identified. The rock rolled smoothly next to him, even though it should not have been possible due to its irregular shape. He was forced out of the blue ground covered area and made to step onto the hard stone floor. The temperature was suddenly perfect, and, given the starting biome had felt tailored for him, he wasn¡¯t sure how this area suited him more. But somehow, being here felt even better than in his original starting spot. The stone person groaned in relief. ¡°Much, much better. I don¡¯t know how you exist in somewhere so cold.¡± ¡°What did you mean?¡± Tom looked pointedly at the blue covered ground. ¡°That temperature was near perfect.¡± ¡°Oh, I know. People are always shoved into their most suitable biome. But this can be your first lesson. Not everyone likes the environment at the same temperature as you do. This central area is the only exception. This has such magic that everyone experiences their optimal conditions. It¡¯s the place where we can chat with each other without any party suffering. I don¡¯t know why the whole place wasn¡¯t like that, but you know, that¡¯s just GODs being GODs. Just give me a moment. I need to save your fellow inductee.¡± Chapter 81.2 – Introductions Tom looked in the direction the rock had half rolled toward. The pot plant was talking to a bright yellow plastic plant. ¡°Got to fix this. Meddlesome things.¡± The rock muttered. He glanced at it, and then it vanished. There was a loud thump and his eyes shot up to see the rock firmly embedded into the ground where the hideous yellow plastic plant had previously been. Then there was a long pause as the two of them were looking at each other and clearly having a conversation that Tom couldn¡¯t hear at all. He had already deduced that sound couldn¡¯t cross the area barriers, so he wasn¡¯t surprised that he couldn¡¯t listen in. After thirty seconds, the pot plant was abruptly propelled forward and toward the central area in the same undignified manner that Tom had been. Curled into a little ball - a posture that showed frustrated annoyance - it was forced to stand next to Tom. ¡°Great, now that you¡¯re both here, we can continue with lecture. Unless...¡± The rock paused, and a pulse of energy radiated out for it. ¡°Unless, of course, there are more.¡± Almost on cue, like the rock had personally timed it, a cloud of red mist expanded, and the contender Tom thought of as the big guy was deposited. A very anaemic mushroom-looking person, one that was a head over Tom but would only have come up to an adult¡¯s shoulder, seemed to have been the one to have brought him here. ¡°A big welcome to the three of you. I¡¯m here to give you a rundown on how things are going to work. First introductions. My name is Amkhael, and I¡¯m a member of the open section; my friend here is Esedhuil. Don¡¯t feel required to listen to anything she says. She¡¯s pretty new around here.¡± ¡°What do you mean? I¡¯ve survived four cycles, and I have the debuffs to prove it.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ve been here for five, so, as I said, ignore her. She¡¯s too inexperienced to give good advice.¡± The anaemic looking person puffed out to be twice her size, which he interpreted as her rolling her eyes. The seamless certainty that came with his interpretation of the other species body language was incredible. Amkhael ignored her. ¡°As we are open contenders, our responsibilities are different from yours, young ones. Not only are we expected to be the strongest - we¡¯re required to mentor the newbies. So, I¡¯m going to show you the resources we have. The data archive is the most important part of your being here.¡± The stone rolled over to the central boulder, which had a roughly cylindrical shape and the size of a small house. As Amkhael approached it, the entire thing lit up. ¡°This is where we record all of our lists. If you don¡¯t spend a significant part of the next four days studying it, you¡¯re not doing things right and are likely to fail.¡± The two other child one category people next to him immediately became more attentive. The rock jiggled, clearly pleased. ¡°There¡¯s an expectation that, after every fight, you are going to record the details of the battle. The more information we gather about the opponents, the better, and, if you¡¯re not recording every detail possible, we¡¯ll kick you out. We may fight individually, but winning is a group effort.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°DEUS is not using this in the same manner as the other GODs,¡± Esedhuil interrupted. ¡°MAKROS and FAMES use it to eliminate emerging powerhouses. SUPREME, GOBUS and WADOR focus on winning and building strength, and the other two barely participate. Only DEUS, and, to a more limited extent, WADOR use it as a macro-economic tool to save civilisations in the wider world. That means our candidates, like you,¡± she looked straight at Tom, ¡°are often weaker than those representing the other powers.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll hold my own.¡± He promised. Esedhuil fluffed herself in amusement. ¡°How you can say that so confidently given your weakness stuns me. But the fact you¡¯ve made it through must mean you¡¯ve got some hidden trump cards.¡± ¡°It¡¯s obviously like Corrine,¡± Amkhael interceded. ¡°It looks a fair bit different, but it¡¯s probably the same species.¡± ¡°She¡¯s a giant. She¡¯s taller than me, and her hair goes to her shoulders, not short like it.¡± ¡°You know we can ask it?¡± the rock said. ¡°But I¡¯m betting it¡¯s from her species.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m human, and my name is Tom, and I use he pronouns.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± the rock apologised. ¡°It¡¯s always hard with your weird shapes and furry mating rules. What¡¯s the distinguishing features? Is it the white streak in the hair? Is the lack of that what makes one of you male?¡± Tom laughed at that. ¡°No, it¡¯s not. There are lots of clues, but I guess you¡¯ll need to have a skill or to be human to be able to tell. About Corrine, is she around often? I know her, but I don¡¯t get to speak to her as much as I would like to in the real world.¡± ¡°Wait. You have two of the same species here?¡± The pot plant interrupted, looking dazed, something it expressed by letting all of its leaves hung limply. ¡°Two at the same time!?¡± ¡°Yes, we do, and do you have a name?¡± ¡°Baptiste and I guess I¡¯m what you would call male.¡± the pot plant said, introducing itself. ¡°Gruh Mul,¡± the large hulking creature said after a moment. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Esedhuil continued, sounding frustrated at the interruption. ¡°Some species like names. As I was saying. DEUS¡¯s champions are often weaker than others, and we offset that by sharing data and compiling lists.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Amkhael interjected, his rock body bouncing up and down on the spot. ¡°And these interfaces,¡± the central boulder glowed as he said that. ¡°Allow you to access that data.¡± Abruptly, a list of names appeared - thirty-one of them, to be precise. Tom could see his own at the very bottom of the list. ¡°This here is the DEUS child one list. It¡¯s currently sorted by combat prowess.¡± Tom devoured the information. There were three people with a general combat rating of above ten, and then Gruh Mul was in the next clump of names with an eight point three, while Baptiste was a bit below midfield with seven point four. Below Baptiste, the scores dropped steadily through the second worst had a combat ranking of four point nine. ¡°Our friend Tom is not very good on this metric,¡± Amkhael unhelpfully pointed out. ¡°I¡¯ll grow.¡± ¡°I have no doubt.¡± The rock shivered on the spot, its equivalent of grinning. Then the list changed abruptly with a new set of names, with the second place highlighted. Adam ¨C 9.6, 700 This list had been sorted by the number of coins rather than combat ranking, and Adam was there because he had gotten seven hundred of them. The general combat rating was far higher than the average in child one, so Tom deduced that this list came from an older category. ¡°Adam was a human,¡± Amkhael told him. The list shifted again. This time, the person highlighted was Corrine. She had two hundred and sixty-one coins to her name, and, once more, her combat rating was far below everyone around her level of success. ¡°I have no doubt you¡¯ll do well, because I¡¯ve seen it before.¡± The rock said smugly. ¡°It¡¯s clear that you humans punch significantly above your weight. Is it a racial ability or is it a special skill you¡¯re all taught?¡± Tom glanced at him, sharply. ¡°No. I¡¯m not answering that. I¡¯ve spilled that secret once. I won¡¯t do it again.¡± Chapter 81.3 – Introductions The rock bounced up and down on the spot. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Baptiste interrupted. ¡°Are you seriously telling me humans have had three champions in the time you¡¯ve been here?¡± ¡°Humans are reckless,¡± Esedhuil observed. ¡°They are clearly fighting without a GOD¡¯s shield.¡± While earlier she had fluffed up to show amusement right now, she looked almost desiccated to show strong disapproval. ¡°Their success does not justify the risks they¡¯re taking or have taken.¡± ¡°See now,¡± Amkhael stated proudly. ¡°What Esedhuil is missing is that humans are a special case. Their survival rate is better than average.¡± A new list with eight names appeared. The last two, his and Corrine¡¯s, had question marks, but above those, there were two with skulls and four with coin totals ranging from five hundred to fifteen hundred. ¡°You¡¯ve had eight?¡± Baptiste¡¯s voice sounded strangled. ¡°Eight! How long has the competition been going for? Forty years?¡± ¡°The first one was twenty years ago,¡± Amkhael told him, unhelpful yet again. Tom couldn¡¯t tell if it was deliberate shit-stirring or if the stone was that oblivious to social clues. ¡°Eight in a quarter of a generation.¡± Baptiste squeaked. ¡°That¡¯s unconscionable.¡± The lines in the mushroom went even sharper. You could see creases that went a centimetre into the thin creature. He didn¡®t need the supernatural empathy sense to interpret what that meant. If she had shown annoyance to this point, she was furious now. ¡°Don¡¯t question DEUS. The humans are here because she wants them to be.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t concern yourself with Esedhuil,¡± the stone said. ¡°She¡¯s a priestess. She gets touchy about certain topics, especially if your careless words impugn on our GODDESS.¡± Tom¡¯s other two companions immediately did their equivalent of prostrating themselves. Tom did nothing, his mind racing. Part of him thought he should venerate the priestess of the GODDESS who had claimed them from Earth. Showing her respect was in his best interests, because it was not sensible to mindlessly challenge cultural norms, but he still couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it. Instead, he considered the new information from the lists. The trick he had been considering implementing clearly worked. All the other humans had gotten far more coins than their strength should have enabled them to. If Tom added his precognition mana into the mix, he hoped he could supercharge his coin acquisition even further. He would confirm the exact technique Corrine used, and then improve on it. He wondered how often they had all fought without the GOD¡¯s shield, but without knowing how long they were here and how many battles they¡¯ve fought, it was impossible to tell. ¡°There¡¯s a locked file for human eyes only,¡± Esedhuil told him. ¡°I presume it explains their secrets.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll check it out in private,¡± Tom promised. ¡°But I doubt it would be necessary. I¡¯m pretty confident I know their trick.¡± ¡°It¡¯s some kind of oracle cheat.¡± Amkhael speculated. ¡°You know better than to pry like that.¡± Esedhuil snapped at the rock. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to try to find another¡¯s secrets, especially when they¡¯re in the competition. Please, ignore my colleagues¡¯ stupidity ¨C but, Tom, I would also like to warn you. Please, don¡¯t be overconfident and throw your life away. Nothing is infallible, and especially not humans¡¯ tricks.¡± She had various appendages sprouting out at seemingly random spots on her body, and they were all a variety of different sizes, but, as she said her warning, they all straightened to point at the screen, and the list upon it had changed. ¡°That¡¯s human activity, listed chronologically.¡± Tom gulped slightly. One of the skulls had come in after Corrine, and the other one was just before them. The first four had survived, but the later ones had either died or were still active. The reason for the warning couldn¡¯t be clearer. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡± ¡°Excellent.¡± Amkhael said happily. ¡°Now that that¡¯s resolved, let me draw your attention to the opposition research we have available.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°What the fuck.¡± a female voice abruptly yelled behind him. ¡°Tom, is that you? What the fuck are you doing here? How the fuck did you manage that?¡± He turned sheepishly to see Corrine¡¯s red-tinged face. He shrugged. ¡°For now, it¡¯s just me. But I¡¯ll get Kang and Bri in soon.¡± ¡°You¡¯re too weak to be here. They¡¯re even worse. Humans died in this shithole.¡± He couldn¡¯t help but smirk at her. ¡°Too weak? Clearly not.¡± ¡°You are weak. I know this; I¡¯ve fought you in the real world.¡± ¡°I said I was going to make it.¡± ¡°And you know each other personally,¡± the pot plant said with a despairing voice. ¡°How can one species be so lucky?¡± ¡°And, surprise,¡± Tom beamed at her. ¡°Here I am.¡± For a couple of seconds, it seemed like Corrine¡¯s brain had shut down. ¡°This is bullshit. You¡¯re too fucking weak to be here. I challenge you.¡± ¡°Wait a moment.¡± Amkhael said. ¡°I haven¡¯t finished. It¡¯s not appropriate to give challenge before I¡¯ve finished.¡± ¡°You think you¡¯re the fucking best, Tom. You¡¯re not.¡± Corrine continued, ignoring Amkhael¡¯s interruption just like he had disregarded Baptiste¡¯s. ¡°I challenge you. Right here, right now.¡± Text appeared in front of his eyes like it would appear in the system room on a wall, but there was no wall and he knew with absolute certainty that no one else could read it. Corrine Hayley Roberts has challenged you to a duel to the death under a full GOD¡¯s shield. Accept or Decline. Tom wrinkled his nose. She had a combat rating of nine. Him fighting her was clearly ridiculous. ¡°Is this really necessary?¡± ¡°Yes, it fucking is.¡± There was a full GOD shield involved, so he accepted the offer and found himself on a mountain peak immediately. Cutting freezing gusts of wind assaulted him and almost knocked him off his feet. The total space they had to fight with was about equivalent to a soccer pitch, with you falling off a sheer cliff once you went beyond that point. Corrine stood with the wind powerful enough to upset his balance, not even fluttering her hair because of one of her skills. ¡°When you do an official battle, it generates a random arena. I¡¯ve fought in water that comes up to my waist, a blizzard, and a desert so hot it hurt to breathe. This,¡± she glanced around. ¡°Is almost fucking pleasant.¡± A countdown appeared above him. ¡°When it reaches zero, I¡¯m going to kill you.¡± She smiled. Tom had no doubt she meant every word. He held a spear, and he tried to work out how to fight his opponent. He knew for a fact she had magic far superior to his own. If it became a long-range magic fest, he would lose. He would have to charge her. The moment the countdown finished, he sprinted forward. Time slowed down as his trait activated. She was, after all, three ranks higher than him and it showed by how sluggish his body abruptly felt. Corrine didn¡¯t change her posture. She was apparently waiting for him to close. Suddenly, he was no longer in his body and he was looking down on the mountain plateau. Time had stopped, then it started. His body took a step and then Tom saw the wind blades coming for it. There were three of them - neck, chest, and knee-height. Like an idiot, he ran through them like they weren¡¯t there and then they tore into his unbraced and unprepared body. His head went flying, decapitated, his leading leg was cut off at the knee, and the other leg survived, mangled, while the middle blade cut halfway through his chest. It was gruesome. A moment later, he was back with the others. They were all staring at Corrine, their posture exhibiting various amounts of horror. ¡°You can¡¯t challenge like that.¡± Amkhael protested. ¡°Fucking weak. You shouldn¡¯t be here. What kind of fuckhead doesn¡¯t bother with mana sight in a duel to the death?¡± She snapped. ¡°Fight again. You need to be better.¡± Corrine Hayley Roberts has challenged you to a duel to the death under a full GOD¡¯s shield. Accept or Decline. ¡°Is this really necessary? Your build hard counters mine.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t use air blades. Fucking accept the invite. You need to understand what you¡¯re fucking facing. There are people in the child category stronger than me.¡± He accepted. A flame whip cut him in two, starting from the top of his head and then crossing all the way down to his groin. Then, in the next battle, her sword finished the fight. Each time she killed him, she removed the method from her arsenal. She had restricted herself from using any offensive magic and no legs. Basically, she had only her fists, elbows, and head left to attack him with. He lasted a single blow longer. Tom catalogued her skillset. She was very impressive, and there was a very good reason she had qualified to be here. She possessed deadly flame, and air magic, and more than just the blades and whips. Corrine also had bolts, remote detonation spells, and could control six different attacks simultaneously. In addition to external magic, she could also empower her blows, and had two separate fast movement techniques. Her general combat rating of above nine was clearly well earned. ¡°You¡¯re too weak.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be using a GOD¡¯s shield.¡± She looked at him incredulously. ¡°No, you won¡¯t. I¡¯ve known you long enough to know you¡¯ll take risks.¡± He winked at her. ¡°Don¡¯t stress. I promise, I¡¯ll be using it some of the time.¡± Chapter 82.1 – Connections Corrine visibly gritted her teeth. He grinned at her. She was killing him easily, but the GOD¡¯s shield pulling him out a moment before death guaranteed it to be painless. He was not suffering. She narrowed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not sure you¡¯re getting it.¡± ¡°I know how weak I am.¡± He told her reasonably. ¡°There is nothing to be proven.¡± More words appeared in front of him. He was getting sick of the repetition. Corrine Hayley Roberts has challenged you to a duel to the death under a full GOD¡¯s shield. Terrain: Temperate, Mid-day, Ruins. Mode: Private. Time: 2 hours max. Accept or Decline. The slight changes in the wording were interesting, and he didn¡¯t want to piss off a potential long-term ally. But nor was he willing to keep putting up with this silently. She had just beaten him to death with her fists. ¡°For goodness¡¯ sakes, Corrine, give it a rest.¡± ¡°Accept it.¡± She insisted. For a moment, he considered saying no. The open competitors would support him. He had the right to reject her request. The question was whether that was the right call. She was someone he wanted information from in the short term and potentially more tangible support in the future. She was going to be powerful with a capital P, while he was just starting out - it would be stupid to alienate her. ¡°One more, please. I promise this is the last time.¡± With a sigh, he clicked the button, and, a moment later, he was in the latest environment that he was going to have to fight in. As always, Corrine was twenty metres away, and the usual ten-second countdown was in progress. He took the time to look around. If it wasn¡¯t for the fact that he knew what was coming, the surroundings would have been pleasant. The two were perched on a small hilltop, and ancient remains of giant structures were surrounding them. It took him a moment to realise that the buildings had been constructed of wood instead of stone. He could see what had once been the frame and the cladding for the walls. The timber was in various states of disrepair. Some of it had been worn away by exposure to weather; then, in other spots, there was little visible aging. It was like the wood had been eroded away like stone rather than having been subjected to rot, and it wasn¡¯t like it was dry. There was visible moisture on the areas that hadn¡¯t yet been exposed to the sun. The timber was clearly magical or unique, because it apparently was not subject to the aging cycles he was used to seeing. The remnants of the building were broken and splintered by age; only what looked like a particularly robust lichen grew upon it and even it was only present sporadically. Nothing else had touched it. Off down the hill, there was an almost intact structure. It was a single room the size of a basketball court, with extra-large wooden beams, just like those in the collapsed buildings near him, providing support. The countdown ended, and Corrine raised her hands to ask him to relax. ¡°We¡¯re not here to fight.¡± ¡°You mean we¡¯re just here for you to kill me again. Because I¡¯m too pathetic to give you a fight.¡± Her face softened. ¡°No, Tom. I¡¯ve made my point. That should have shown you how fucking weak you are.¡± ¡°You¡¯re twice my age, Corrine, of course you can beat me. Especially when your build hard-counters mine.¡± ¡°Stop,¡± she yelled. ¡°No. Fucking. No. Don¡¯t be a weak shit and fall back on excuses.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not an excuse, it¡¯s just the truth.¡± ¡°Yeah, maybe. I might be older, but the competition is not fair. I¡¯m weak, you¡¯re worse. Do you realise that, in terms of raw power, I¡¯m not even in the top fucking quarter of the children in your bucket?¡± ¡°Yes, I realised it,¡± he snapped back at her. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to kill me to demonstrate it. What are you, a psycho?¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. She looked a little hurt. ¡°I was proving a point, and it didn¡¯t actually hurt you. I know what an instant kill in training feels like, and I made sure you died quickly. I know it feels weird, but it¡¯s harmless.¡± ¡°It was excessive and deranged.¡± ¡°It was necessary.¡± ¡°But why do it? You didn¡¯t talk to me first. Or bother to ask what I thought. If you had, you would have understood that I agree with you. That I know I¡¯m weak. I¡¯ve learnt it when I fought a rank six.¡± ¡°A rank six? You fucking idiot. You did what? Without a GOD¡¯s shield? Do you know how reckless that is?¡± Tom glared at her until she stopped her rant. She had the grace to look embarrassed. ¡°As I was saying, I fought a rank six in the second contest. Afterwards, I decided I couldn¡¯t fight a six point five, so I sat out the final round.¡± ¡°Then how did you fucking qualify?¡± She stopped as her brain caught up with her words. Realisation blossomed on her face. Her anger vanished, replaced with pity, as she understood what must have happened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t know. Forgive me, please. Sometimes I might be a little too impulsive and express my opinions before I should.¡± She chuckled. ¡°No filter.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not stupidly reckless, Corrine. I know how important staying alive is. That¡¯s the whole game - grow as fast as possible while not taking undue risk.¡± ¡°Still, teaching you how weak you were didn¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡°I already knew. Plus, who leaps into consecutive death matches like that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s because of Tan Ru and Sonamoni.¡± She almost cried out the words. ¡°It¡¯s because of them. They were good. They were fucking good. Sonamoni was better than me, and she died. You can¡¯t do the same. I¡¯ll make sure you won¡¯t.¡± ¡°Corrine, I¡¯m reincarnated. You know my background. I¡¯m competent.¡± ¡°Fuck your background. If anything, it makes you more reckless - didn¡¯t you die in the first year? And Sonamoni was ranked number one for months before she died. I watched for the whole first two years how quickly all of you at the top dropped off, as the risks you took became too much.¡± Tom studied Corrine. The false bravo remained there. Her history from whatever disadvantaged suburb she had come from was unchanged. But while she was hard, most of what she was doing seemed to be driven by concern. ¡°I don¡¯t know who Sonamoni is.¡± ¡°She was a short girl, and one as crazy as you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not crazy. I died because I was hunted.¡± The last, while technically true, was a lie. His arrogance and lack of preparation had been what had killed him, but it would be counterproductive to tell Corrine that now. ¡°You¡¯re not getting it. It doesn¡¯t fucking matter if you¡¯re crazy or not. Whether you like it or not, Tom, I¡¯m going to do my best to make sure you understand how the fucking place works and help you stay alive.¡± ¡°And is this part of that?¡± he raised his arms to indicate the arena. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°How is your lecturing me worthwhile? Amkhael was in the process of inducting me, and he seemed a hell of a lot more professional than you.¡± She looked slightly hurt at that accusation. ¡°No. Amkhael¡¯s a wanker, and Esedhuil is a bitch who has a stick so far up her arse I¡¯m surprised it¡¯s not coming out of her throat.¡± Tom snorted in laughter before he could help himself. The mushroom priestess had definitely been uptight. Corrine smiled, and, for the first time since she brought him here, he could see her relax slightly. ¡°Tom, I¡¯m being serious about teaching you and doing it properly. What Amkhael will give you is a lip service. I¡¯ll do it better, because I don¡¯t want to see anyone else die.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not about to turn away help, but how does being here¡­¡± He stamped his foot for emphasis and glanced pointedly at the surroundings. ¡°Why here? How does being here help?¡± ¡°Privacy, seats, and more pleasant surroundings.¡± ¡°No; I mean, back in the foyer we had access to the terminals. They had looked like they had some serious hard data for us to look at.¡± ¡°The information DEUS is collecting is great.¡± She agreed happily. ¡°But that was the other reason I was extending the fights. I have a solution, but I needed time to download everything required for this session.¡± A screen appeared in her hands,. It looked suspiciously like one of the terminal screens from an isolation room. Specifically, the ones used in the status ritual check. ¡°And where did you get that?¡± She smirked. ¡°Where do you think? With the acids in the upper cupboards, it didn¡¯t even require any strength. Ten minutes and it came off. Dim just laughed at me when I admitted it was me. I reckon he had already guessed. No harm, really. Everything in the orphanage is there for us to use.¡± Tom could have said lots in that moment, but there was something more important troubling him. He pointed at the screen. ¡°How does that work here?¡± ¡°Trading between individuals is heavily regulated. It has to be coins for objects, and the system gets involved and takes a large cut of the transaction, so I couldn¡¯t give this to someone to just go and fix. However, the open section competitors are all hundreds of years old. There are no restrictions on knowledge. So, I brought this screen and various tools, and one of them helped me make the modifications. Listen, I would like to come over, but I don¡¯t want this,¡± she waved the screen in her hands, ¡°to get damaged, and I kind of want to get closer. And, um¡­ I know you¡¯re angry. And so, I guess, if you need to kill me, then¡­ um¡­ I guess I can¡­¡± she bit her lip. ¡°I can put it away and let you get revenge, and we can come back. But, um, if you have to do that, can you try to make it quick?¡± She appeared genuine. He sighed. He guessed it would be unfair to blindside her like he had planned. Especially as such an effort would likely damage the screen, which sounded valuable and hard to replace. ¡°That¡¯s not necessary. I¡¯ll behave.¡± He promised. Chapter 82.2 – Connections ¡°Come on,¡± she nodded at a nearby heaped pile of wood and then went over to it. She wrinkled her nose at the messy-looking seat. No matter how they sat, it was not going to be very comfortable, and he suspected their bottoms were going to get wet. ¡°This is not what I was hoping for when I selected ruins. I was hoping for some nice steps, or at the very least some comfortable sitting stones rather than this.¡± She sat down anyway, then waved at him to sit beside her. When he sat, he discovered the logs were far more comfortable than he had expected, with the lichen taking the hard edge off them. Corrine didn¡¯t immediately turn the screen on, but rather faced him with a serious look. ¡°I know you probably have dreams of winning thousands of matches and getting some life-changing, incredible natural treasure, an item that I¡¯m sure that your curated list has dangled in front of you. Mine¡¯s a tier-nine inferno storm domain. Everyone¡¯s got something.¡± ¡°Yes, I saw the list. I have a stretch goal as well, but right now I¡¯m ready to wave the white flag. I¡¯m never getting it.¡± She exhaled sharply in relief. ¡°Thank the goddess. Some people get irrational about it. While the discounts are good, I think they¡¯ve probably been inserted by the other GODs as a trap. I¡¯ve also abandoned mine. All the old hands tell pretty much the same story. You try to get whatever your item is - you end up dead. I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve seen the truth without needing an intervention.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ve really given up on yours? Looking at your coins earned, I thought you would be almost there.¡± Her face darkened. ¡°That¡¯s right. I saw that fucking meddling cunt Amkhael parading that list in front of you. He shouldn¡¯t have done it. And, let me guess, you saw the number of coins earned and did the maths about how often they had to be winning without a GOD¡¯s shield to reach that number. And now you probably fucking think you can do it. That meddling arsehole.¡± ¡°I calculated the percentage.¡± Tom admitted. ¡°Bloody cunts. They knew it was old data, so they shouldn¡¯t have shown it. Tan Ru passed on a warning from the person before him and it¡¯s also in the human-only notes in the archive. Long story cut short, the historical success rates of the past no longer apply. They did something to alter the brackets to counter humans.¡± ¡°And Tan Ru knew that exactly how?¡± ¡°A priest warned him. You shouldn¡¯t try to duplicate what they did. It¡¯s too dangerous.¡± ¡°But you are.¡± He accused her. ¡°I¡¯m not. But I¡¯ll give you full disclosure of what I¡¯m doing later. For now, let¡¯s look at this.¡± The screen in her hands was turned on. It was filled with a familiar list, with him right at the bottom. ¡°I downloaded all the information on your bucket prior to starting this session. These are all DEUSs representatives, and, before we get into the detail, you need to realise that, on average, due to how we select the participants, our win ratio is only forty-five percent.¡± Tom frowned at that. That didn¡¯t seem like a huge discrepancy, but it was a noticeable one when theoretically it should have been a fifty-fifty. ¡°But it gets worse. If the SANATORES and INNECTIS didn¡¯t send competitors, then the percentage would have dropped to thirty-nine percent. We¡¯re fucking weak,¡± she waved the screen to illustrate her point. ¡°And that¡¯s what I¡¯m comparing you against. So, even if you could beat fifty percent of your cohort, when you¡¯ll be challenged against the other competitors, it will be lower.¡± Tom nodded. ¡°I get that. This is all pretty basic stuff.¡± ¡°Am I right when I say you¡¯re close range lightning and spear? I¡¯m not sure your healing matters that much.¡± ¡°Yes, and I¡¯ve also got something to speed up my perception, illusion piercing, protection against mind attacks, and a weak instant finishing move.¡± She nodded. ¡°So does that mean I¡¯m safe to say you¡¯ve got no offensive abilities beyond five metres?¡± ¡°More like three.¡± ¡°So, before going through individual records, am I safe in assuming that you agree that anyone good at range will beat you?¡± ¡°Unless they¡¯re overconfident and get too close.¡± To illustrate his point, he carefully zapped her shoulder. She squealed and rubbed the spot hard, but didn¡¯t retaliate. ¡°What was that for?¡± ¡°Just to show I can be dangerous if you get too close.¡± ¡°Bullshit. You just wanted to zap me.¡± Tom didn¡¯t deny it. ¡°I guess I deserved that, but your premise is wrong. People here don¡¯t taunt. All of our system fights are self-recorded afterwards, so I can get hard facts on that assumption later. But, for now, just know that you¡¯re wrong. There¡¯s only ever one or two active ones who play with their food like that.¡± Tom wrinkled his nose. ¡°No way. They can¡¯t be that disciplined.¡± She nodded seriously. ¡°As a rule, I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s the case. You have to remember that everyone here¡¯s exceptional.¡± She paused and poked her tongue out. ¡°Exceptional excluding you, that is. People aren¡¯t dumb enough to take chances. So, back to my original question. Can we just assume any ranged attackers will kill you?¡± Tom wanted to argue, but the simple fact was that unless he could land Spark against his opponent, they would beat him. Reluctantly, he nodded in agreement, and precise instructions rolled over the interface. Mark individuals who predominantly kill at a range of greater than four metres. The list updated, and over half the people had a tick against them. Corrine nudged him. ¡°How does that make you feel? All of those fuckers are killing you instantly.¡± It was an extensive list, but not one he could dispute. ¡°And I also assume you¡¯ll die against anything immune to your lightning.¡± ¡°Not necessarily. My lightning has a sideways evolution that allows it to stun everything.¡± ¡°Even a stone elemental?¡± she asked in confusion. ¡°No, not that,¡± he admitted. ¡°They have to be physically able to be stunned.¡± ¡°So, only people with flesh and blood?¡± Once more, he found himself being forced to agree when he didn¡¯t want to. ¡°So, if they¡¯re biologically immune, I can mark them as your loss as well?¡± Tom remembered the multi-coloured ball creature he had fought. Technically, it had been immune to lightning, but he had killed it. ¡°I fought a four point five in the contenders¡¯ challenge that was immune, but I still kill it. It¡¯s not a guaranteed loss just because they¡¯re immune.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. She looked at him like he was an idiot. ¡°Come on, Tom, that¡¯s delusional. You¡¯re not fighting some defective person in a random colosseum event; we¡¯re talking about fucking elites here. If your only offensive spell doesn¡¯t work, you¡¯re toast. Unless there¡¯s something special about your spear work you¡¯ve forgotten to mention, that is. Maybe an ability that can let you beat a fighter twice your rank? Do you have anything like that? Tom?¡± She watched him like a hawk as he processed her words and couldn¡¯t find a way to dispute them. She nodded, satisfied; then commands went across the screen once more. Mark all individuals who are biologically immune to stun. Another ten percent were ticked off. Corrine nodded at the numbers. ¡°This is not great news for you, Tom. Sixty percent of DEUS champions in your bucket hard counter you. They¡¯ll get an automatic kill against you.¡± ¡°Which means there is forty percent I can beat.¡± He joked. She burst into laughter. ¡°Not so fast, terminator. It only means that a fight against forty percent of them doesn¡¯t mean instant death. We need to work through specifics to actually estimate your chances against the others.¡± She pressed the first unmarked name on the list, and detailed information on their build was displayed. Tom whistled. ¡°If this got out...¡± She waved her hand dismissively. ¡°It can¡¯t. There are trial level geas, and additional ones for DEUS-mandated private information. We can¡¯t spread this accidentally or deliberately, so you don¡¯t have to worry about any of your secrets being exposed. Such as them discovering you¡¯re the Tom.¡± She smiled as she made inverted commas for his name. Tom focused in on the teasing, and he felt like cradling his head in his hands. ¡°You didn¡¯t... You didn¡¯t research me, did you?¡± She shrugged, neither confirming it nor denying. ¡°Don¡¯t look so worried. I¡¯m not going to betray you. They won¡¯t find out that Tom is back from me.¡± ¡°Tom is back? Protect me? That¡¯s funny, but your efforts are futile. My enemies already know who I am.¡± ¡°What the fuck does that mean?¡± She was instantly focused on him. ¡°What did you just say?¡± ¡°They know that the Tom, as you described him, has been reincarnated, and that I¡¯m in this orphanage.¡± ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡± She said quietly, with an edge of threat. Tom hesitated and then realised he had divulged too much. ¡°Oh¡­ forget what I said. It wasn¡¯t important.¡± ¡°No, Tom, what the fuck do you mean the enemies know about you? I can tell you weren¡¯t joking, and you¡¯re alive, so them knowing is an impossibility. Spill it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°No, Tom. We¡¯re on the same team. We¡¯re the future; I have to know.¡± ¡°The enemy GODs may have been running a fate-based ritual to try to kill me.¡± He admitted, realising that trying to keep everything secret now would be counterproductive. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°They were?¡± He nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not calling you a liar, but how the hell would you notice something like that?¡± ¡°There was a powerful boss in the bat lair. It was too strong to have been summoned randomly. It didn¡¯t have fate abilities, but there was some hostile fate countering my own. And¡­¡± He stopped abruptly. Mentioning that he was responsible for the attack on the orphanage might not be sensible, and hopefully the boss¡¯ information would be sufficient. ¡°And¡­¡± she said dangerously. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± he lied poorly, and internally cursed his social skills. ¡°It was obvious from the bat being there when it shouldn¡¯t have.¡± ¡°Spill it, Tom.¡± Stubbornly, he said nothing and looked away. To his surprise, she didn¡¯t push. Instead, she got up and started pacing up and down. Then suddenly she pointed at him. ¡°The new assassin types. The ones that tricked Dimitri; you think they were after you, don¡¯t you?¡± He froze. ¡°For you to believe that, Dimitri must too. If that¡¯s the case,¡± she mused. ¡°It would explain why they only attacked our town. The proper strategy would have been to hit all three orphanages simultaneously, as they had the numbers. Instead, they focused on us because¡­¡± she met his eyes suspiciously. ¡°Exactly how was that attack related to the bat?¡± ¡°It happened four days after.¡± She bit her lip thoughtfully, absorbing that fact. ¡°Fuck me. The resources, the coordination¡­ Fuck. That could only have happened under a GOD¡¯s orders. MAKROS must hate you.¡± ¡°Dimitri consulted with Eden. He didn¡¯t tell me the details, but yes, he concluded that I might be hated that much.¡± It made little to no sense, but the older man had been convinced by whatever Everlyn had said about him. ¡°And now you¡¯re in the champions¡¯ trial. Fuck me. He¡¯s going to be gunning for you even harder. That¡¯s funny, and also even more reason to be careful.¡± Tom had not expected her to react like this. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t you care about those who have died?¡± She stared at him, trying to process what he was saying, and then her mouth made a little ¡®O¡¯ of surprise. Before he could do anything, she was sitting down and engulfing him with both of her arms. She was too strong for him to do anything to physically stop it, but he didn¡¯t wriggle and try to escape. The hug was kind of nice. After a too short minute, she released him. ¡°Care? Of course I care. Arnali, despite the way he chose to get more powerful, was a friend. But do I blame you? Fuck no. Your spooking them into targeting us saved lives.¡± When he didn¡¯t respond, she gently nudged him. ¡°Hey. Did you really think I¡¯d blame you?¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± She smiled sadly. ¡°Blame the situation, yes. Blame you? Not one little bit. Fuck, until we¡¯re twenty-five, we¡¯re like gnats in the greater scheme of things. Nothing we can do can make a difference.¡± ¡°True.¡± ¡°Now, let¡¯s do this.¡± She pointed down at the detailed information laid out in front of them. It had all of the native¡¯s abilities listed. She was a kind of multiple weapon berserker. ¡°Rank six, and she opens with a blade storm charge. Super fast, re-targetable mid fight. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve got anything that can counter.¡± ¡°Yep. Guaranteed death.¡± Tom agreed. She clicked a button, and the next profile came up. ¡°My lightning will work against him.¡± ¡°But can you hurt him fast enough?¡± Tom read the armour ratings and base healing rates along with the native¡¯s size. ¡°Hurt him fast enough? Nope. I¡¯m not even convinced I can hurt him.¡± ¡°So, dead?¡± she asked. ¡°Very much so.¡± It wasn¡¯t until the eighth person they checked that there was someone Tom might be able to beat. ¡°Fragile, susceptible to lightning, uses illusions to get close to destroy the opponent.¡± ¡°Yes, I hard-counter it.¡± It had a general combat rating of eight point seven, and, even with his ability stopping its illusions, Tom¡¯s victory was not guaranteed, as physically it was still a rank four and knew how to use its body. She laughed. ¡°You don¡¯t look very confident.¡± ¡°Well, with it having that many raw attributes, nothing is guaranteed.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll give it to you anyway.¡± They went to the next one and then worked down the list, getting through a full hundred. Most of the times, the outcome was obvious, but there were a few they needed to debate in detail. As they ticked off the last one, Corrine turned to look at him seriously. ¡°Do we need to go through more, or do you get my point?¡± There had been six that he would have been able to kill. All but one had been susceptible only because of his resistance to mind attacks and illusions. In total, it was well less than ten percent that he had a chance against. ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°And remember, these are from DEUS, and we¡¯re the weakest.¡± ¡°Fate should be able to direct it so that I only fight against those I have an advantage against...¡± ¡°NO!¡± she shouted. ¡°No. Fuck no. That¡¯s why both Tan Ru and Sonamoni fucking died. You can¡¯t influence the assigned fights.¡± Tom studied her puzzled. ¡°Then how are you doing it?¡± ¡°I only use fate to influence whether I should use a GODs shield or not. I bought a random chance generator that creates ones or zeros. When I¡¯m choosing my GOD shield depending on my gut feeling, I trigger it three to six times, but usually more like five. If I see a single zero, I enter with a full shield.¡± He really didn¡¯t feel like doing the mathematics, but the percentages of that method seemed too low for how many coins she had earned. ¡°What are those percentages?¡± Corrine smiled. ¡°Are you admitting you¡¯re not a genius? Is a little math too hard for you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve done advanced mathematics at school.¡± He answered dryly. ¡°You mean they¡¯re not teaching you stuff like this in your number classes?¡± Tom burst out laughing. ¡°We are currently learning to do addition using beans and then counting them.¡± She chuckled in reaction to his expression of disgust. ¡°Three rolls are twelve and a half percent, and five rolls reduces that to three percent.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s not consistent with your coin total.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the advantage of fate. I get straight ones a quarter of the time I do the test instead of the eight percent it should be showing.¡± Tom whistled, impressed with how she was getting around the buckets being pre-set by the GODs and therefore beyond the ability of fate to influence them by altering probabilities. ¡°And before I got started, I did the same analysis that you did. Your possible kill rate is five percent. Mine was about twenty.¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°No, we both know that is not true. My kill rate is less than five percent. In a real duel to the death, I¡¯m probably losing against half of the people tagged as a win.¡± ¡°I ran the same exercise as you.¡± Corrine reminded him. ¡°But you got worse results, so if you borrow my technique, something which I strongly recommend, you should change it up. Instead of three to five in a row, you should be doing six to nine to reflect your lower chances.¡± ¡°I get it.¡± He stretched out and realised that he had enjoyed the experience much more than he would have if Amkhael had been presenting, even if the start had been less than ideal. ¡°This has been fun, but killing me so many times at the start was a little unhinged, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°I knew it wouldn¡¯t actually hurt you.¡± She muttered defensively. ¡°It was unhinged,¡± he repeated. ¡°But thank you for taking the time to help me. Being able to be myself and talk to someone frankly is such a relief.¡± ¡°Yeah, I fucking loved it too.¡± Book Announcement Fate Points - Book 1 now live on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited First a quick update. I actively took last week off and have tried to write today but failed. I''ll try again tomorrow, and the next day because I need to stop distracting myself with reading bad books (admittedly two of the four series I''ve read have been fantastic). Mentally I''m still getting random mood swings which every one tells me is normal but rather abnormal for me. My wife is continuously surprised by how much I''ve been effected. It makes doing happy creative writing hard and I don''t want to kill off the entire cast of characters. Unfortunately release dates on Amazon don''t care about feelings and you guys got a chapter from my pateron backlog and my plan to give multiple bonus chapters prior to this release got nixed. In any case Fate Points is now live in all markets. Anything you can do to help is greatly appreciated. Chapter 83 – Finding a Way to Profit For a solid ten minutes they just chattered; then, with an apologetic grin, Corrine brought out the screen once more: ¡°Sorry. we should keep going and make the most of the time we have.¡± Their study switched to focusing on the known enemies from the other fractions. She made a point of only including those who had been there for more than three battles against their faction, so that they had sufficient data to assess them properly. It went without saying that, even with those restrictions, there were lots of participants to analyse. When Corrine had quoted the statistics of the representatives of the other GODs being stronger, he had accepted the fact, but hadn¡¯t truly realised what it meant. In basic terms, the bottom third on the DEUSs list had been removed and replaced with the more powerful alternatives. All but the very weakest of the enemies representing the other GODs would have slotted easily into the top half of DEUS¡¯s list. It was humbling. The information they had available on their opponents wasn¡¯t, and couldn¡¯t be, as in-depth as the listing of skills the DEUS representatives had supplied. However, after seeing the observations from at least three battles, there was enough information for them to estimate the likelihood of Tom being successful against these opponents. Despite them being stronger, the percentage Tom could beat hadn¡¯t altered on average. He hard-countered about one in twenty of the adversaries, and, when that happened, it didn¡¯t matter if their raw attributes were slightly larger than their equivalents in DEUS¡¯s team - with their core build exposed, he was still positioned to defeat them. ¡°This is hopeless.¡± Tom said finally. ¡°I need to develop lightning to be able to strike at range.¡± ¡°Yep, and not a missile form. You want something more instantaneous, something designed to stun rather than kill.¡± ¡°And it needs a kicker to let it bypass the shields as well,¡± Tom mused. ¡°A simple ranged attack, for example, wouldn¡¯t affect you, and I doubt your defences are any stronger than average. That means unless it has shield busting, it¡¯s going to be pointless against the talented enemies I¡¯m going to be fighting.¡± She nodded at that. ¡°Yep. I go into every fucking battle with my mana shield in place. Doing anything else would-be fucking stupidity, and, unfortunately none of these fucks are that dumb.¡± ¡°I wonder if I can leverage my version of Power Strike¡­¡± She looked at him and wrinkled her nose. ¡°To be honest, it sounds impossible. I guess you could find an instant lightning-based spear attack and then somehow evolve your Power Strike to allow it to be remotely infused on a spear you have control of. Maybe if you did both¡­¡± She shrugged. ¡°You might be able to pull something like that out of your arse, but you¡¯d be paddling upstream trying.¡± After that thought, they lost the enthusiasm to continue with their analysis, and, when they received the warning that their duel only had five minutes, they were both happy to put aside the pad. ¡°I have a bit more to show you when we leave this place,¡± Corrine told him. ¡°I figured as much.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t cover much more today, but we¡¯ll have plenty of opportunities to deepen your knowledge before your next fight.¡± ¡°It almost sounds like Amkhael would have covered more.¡± He teased. ¡°And he would have. It might have gone in one ear and out the other, but they definitely would have addressed everything possible in two hours.¡± ¡°But what you do is much better?¡± ¡°Yes, it fucking is, and don¡¯t you dare suggest otherwise. But more seriously, the open category guys aren¡¯t that bad, and Amkhael would have tried to do his best; however, his cultural proclivities mean he rubs humans the wrong way. To us, he¡¯s a dick. To his own people, he¡¯s probably perfectly normal.¡± ¡°I understood.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here, Tom. Being reincarnated without personal power is lonely. It¡¯s completely fucked.¡± ¡°Lonely?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± her voiced hitched. ¡°Constantly.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you have any friends?¡± She shook her head. ¡°They¡¯re children; or, I guess, teenagers now, but it¡¯s the same thing. They can¡¯t keep up with me, so what¡¯s the point. Getting close to them just creates unnecessary vulnerabilities.¡± ¡°I feel the same.¡± ¡°What about the tiny heterochromia girl?¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°It means two different eye colours.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a big word to express that.¡± ¡°What can I say? I was educated. But seriously, what about her?¡± ¡°I won¡¯t say it was a mistake.¡± Tom shut his eyes. ¡°But it¡¯s not optimal. She kind of snuck her way in. Kang and I both treat her as a little sister.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve seen.¡± ¡°I understand avoiding the kids. I tried to do the same, even if Briana got through, but what about other reincarnated ones? You¡¯re not going to leave them behind.¡± She glanced at him and then shook her head. ¡°No, it¡¯s too risky to do it. When I was five, there was an assassin infestation. They killed a group of three fourteen-year-olds; Dim thought they identified one of them and exposed the others through the connection. There was no way I was going to make the same mistake. It¡¯s been hellish for the first six years. I felt totally isolated, and then I came here and here was a place I could be myself.¡± She went silent, frowned, and swallowed heavily, her eyes shut. ¡°But chatting with natives isn¡¯t the same as speaking to humans. Please, don¡¯t die, Tom. I don¡¯t know if I can¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to.¡± He assured her. She snorted. ¡°That promise coming from someone reincarnated doesn¡¯t inspire me with confidence. I¡¯m sure you promised that to people in your past life.¡± ¡°Of course I did.¡± Then he grabbed her hand and squeezed. ¡°Don¡¯t die either.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a survivor¡­¡± she chuckled darkly. ¡°Apart from when I¡¯m fucking not. I can¡¯t wait until I turn fifteen. I have my route planned for the first three years, one to get me up to rank eighty as fast as possible. Then I can feel safe. Have you made any plans yet?¡± ¡°Nothing so concrete.¡± They descended into silence. ¡°Tom... Can you be my friend?¡± The request made him look at her in surprise. It was not something he had ever expected to hear from her after their first troubled encounters. She had always felt unapproachable and antagonistic. ¡°Please.¡± He swallowed. It was a long time since he had seen someone look so vulnerable. ¡°Of course we can be friends.¡± She smiled almost shyly. ¡°Even though I¡¯ve killed you, like, ten times?¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°You had your reasons.¡± ¡°Yes, I had to do what was best for you. But if you¡¯re my friend, you have to promise.¡± ¡°Not to die,¡± Tom finished for her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not planning on it.¡± Their time ran out, and they reappeared near the huge rock in the central area. The others were gone, but a number of other natives were nearby. Corrine frowned as she glanced around, searching for something. ¡°They¡¯re not here. I was hoping to pass you over, because I can¡¯t stay. My body¡¯s already in the isolation room, and I need all the time there I can get.¡± She grabbed his hand and took off at a pace that forced him into a trot to keep up. ¡°I¡¯m here every morning and evening. If you can make it, then, please, do. Just ask a construct, and they¡¯ll bring you to me. It¡¯s one of the things they¡¯re good for. But before I go, let me show you the armoury.¡± She dragged him along into one of the more elaborate portals, and he found himself in a room that was filled with weapons and armour designed for humans. Half of them were his size, and the rest were for Corrine. ¡°Ta da.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ta da?¡± Her face hardened. ¡°I thought it would sound cute. Would you prefer something like this is a stupid cunt of an armoury that only contains fucking uncomfortable tier-zero crap and what you get from here is the only fucking things you can use in sanctioned fights? Is that better?¡± ¡°To be honest, I preferred the ta da.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I went for it, and you couldn¡¯t help but tease me for it.¡± She grinned, clearly not anywhere near as upset as she was pretending to be. ¡°Anyway, this is the armoury. You can¡¯t bring anything in from the outside, but if you have the skills, you can improve the supplied stuff to make it into something better.¡± ¡°I have some skills that can help.¡± Tom said without hesitation. ¡°Then if they¡¯re powerful enough to matter, you¡¯ll be popular. The only rule is that you are barred from helping anyone in a lower bucket. That doesn¡¯t affect you. If you do have skill, you can help everyone. What can you do, anyway? In a year and a half, I wouldn¡¯t have thought you could have learnt anything that would be useful.¡± ¡°Remove flaws from wood, maybe upgrade the tier of the wood; secondly, also being able to create danger sense bracelets. This is the sole scope of my crafting expertise.¡± She raised an eyebrow at that and whistled. ¡°If that¡¯s for real, then that second one could be damn useful. Next time we¡¯re here together, I¡¯ll introduce you to some people. But for now, I have to go. I have eight hours in an isolation room, and I don¡¯t want to waste them.¡± She deliberately didn¡¯t mention what she was doing, which told Tom that she was working to get a title, and it was pretty easy to figure out which type it belonged to. ¡°Enjoy yourself.¡± He said with a big grin and a thumbs up. She scowled. ¡°Oh, I definitely won¡¯t, but it¡¯s something I need to do.¡± On those words she vanished; the armoury shivered and got smaller, with the spaces dedicated to her vanishing. He wasn¡¯t at all surprised. Slowly, he rotated to examine everything that he had available to use. There was the standard weaponry and armour, both the light and slightly heavier versions. There was even an awkward-looking wooden suit that he knew was there for him to enhance into something more useful. He stopped and faced a display section with a series of shelves filled with miscellaneous pieces of wood. Four long steps brought him to be right in front of them, and he picked up a piece that looked like a large coin. It was wider than his palm and about a centimetre-thick. It was perfect for the test he was considering. He focused, and the grain of the wood changed superficially. A moment later, the coin had a one engraved on the upper side and a zero on the other. Then his magic kept flowing in order to change the interior, introducing a series of precise lines as he quickly constructed the basic framework of the Danger Sense ritual. Then he paused to consider what he wanted to do. The ritual was not as incomprehensible as it had once been. April had spent a lot of time explaining different areas of it, a lot of which he had reluctantly absorbed. With that advanced knowledge, he was confident he could eventually adapt the ritual in the direction he needed. When she had been explaining it, he had been resentful of the interruptions slowing him down. Now he wished he had listened more carefully. Before he started editing everything, he spent all of his fate with a singular image in his mind. He wanted to create a working ritual fit for the purpose. Then he began to carve the additional pieces in. Rather than perfectly duplicating the working design April had originally given him, he began to make adjustments. He removed the ritual components that controlled information on the direction and nature of the incoming threat, and instead focused on extending the time frame that the magic could peer into the future. The functionality he stripped away gave him room to add additional items. He duplicated the sections that allowed it to peer further into the future. Then finally, because this was for him and he could both repair and refresh with mana, he removed the self-destruct elements and made it more robust in the hope it would let him reuse it. When he finally finished the process, he had packed over thirty points of precognition mana into it. The result did not look particularly impressive, but Tom could see the energy trapped within it; the ritual, while not as efficient as he had hoped, actually worked. After so much practice, he could tell when he had made fatal mistakes, and for this, despite the sheer number of changes, all of his errors were minor. ¡°Can I sell this?¡± he asked the empty room. There was no response, but, when he turned around, a figure similar to the one that Amkhael had crushed appeared. ¡°Is there a way I can sell this to get coins?¡± he repeated the question, this time asking the construct. After all, being available to answer him was why it had appeared. ¡°What you¡¯re holding would be classed as a tier-one danger indicator for solo fights in the Champion Trial.¡± The construct said, clearly letting slip more information than it should have. ¡°DEUS, via the system, will not allow you to sell something in that niche that is less than tier-two to those in the child and adolescent buckets. It will need to be tier-three to be offered to the open level participants.¡± Tom sighed at that response in relief. It conveyed a lot in what it didn¡¯t say. ¡°But if I can improve it to that level, then will I be permitted to sell them?¡± ¡°If there¡¯s a market, yes. You¡¯ll be able to sell four for a single coin.¡± The construct told him. ¡°The person you¡¯re selling it to will get three, and the price with be three times that for the higher-tiered version.¡± Tom nodded and wondered whether that was a deal that anyone would go for. Presumably, at tier-two it would do what he had been hoping. It would let someone know if they were about to enter a match where they were destined to be killed or crippled. It wouldn¡¯t differentiate between a win or a loss, but knowing you weren¡¯t going to die would allow them to go in without a shield and earn extra coins for the battles they were meant to win. Given the advantages his invention would bring, there would be demand. In an open market, he would expect that they would have sold at a significantly higher price than the regulated process would allow. With prices effectively artificially lowered, he was confident that there would be demand for every single one he could create. ¡°Will it work? I mean will, this save their lives?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t say.¡± The construct responded. But it didn¡¯t need to confirm anything verbally. The fact the system would let him to sell it told him that it would be fit for purpose, but no skill was a hundred percent perfect. There were abilities out there that would have the capability to beat his tier-two Danger Sense ritual even if it was empowered to a tier-six level thanks to his affinity. He flipped the coin in his hand. It was definitely something to talk about with April. If he could improve it to standard, and if he was spending eight hours daily in here, then he should be able to get a passive income of one or two coins per day. That would add up quickly. Not as quickly as the sixteen coins every week, which would have been the reward if he could win fifty percent of his fights, but it was close. As for breaking even in the combat ring, for him to get powerful enough to do that¡­ Achieving that level of power was a long way away, and it was a height he might never reach. He hated to think it, but, in this case, crafting was the best way forward. It was a win for everyone, and it was only possible because of his freakish affinity. If he had one or two points less, his gut told him his danger sense artefacts wouldn¡¯t have been an option. Having decided that he had discovered enough for now, he left the trial. The instant he did, he was assaulted by a wave of memories. They contained the pertinent details of everything his body had gotten up to while he was in the champion¡¯s lobby. It included all the conversations he had been involved in. The feature was not one he had been expecting, but having experienced it, he understood it was a hundred percent required. This way, there was no risk of his little excursions being discovered through him failing to remember something important. He was back in the system room equivalent. There were monitors for him to watch, surround sound, and familiar metal walls. Aided by his memories, he realized that he was in the reading class, and a quick check of the screens confirmed that. Given they were studying picture books, he was not in a hurry to leave. With a wry smile, he slumped down on the couch and thought about everything that had happened over just a few hours of real time. There had been a lot. The genius youths who had been the hope of their whole species. Some had failed and others had died. Both outcomes had been a tragedy. He had not been as good as them, and definitely not as strong, but he had won through, despite the odds, because of his cheat of using fate. Then, while he was acclimatising to the rules, Corrine had gone crazy town on him to try to impart the lessons that she thought he had to learn. Then they had spent two hours chatting and researching his opponents. He was man enough to admit he had loved being able to do that, just like he loved the couple of similar moments he had managed to have with either Kang or Dimitri. It was as if he had forgotten how important being an adult was to his mental health. As though he was a parched man in a desert, the flood of good fortune had almost overwhelmed him, and it felt surreal to think he could have hours of mature contact every day. A significant part of him was jumping up and down in joy at that thought. While it wasn¡¯t painful to pretend to be a child as such, it certainly became depressing and overwhelming after a while. The next question was, could he elevate Kang into the trial before Corrine¡¯s time was up? Because now he had tasted it, he didn¡¯t want to give it up. Chapter 84.1 – Lightning Path Tom slipped back into his body as his mind was mulling over what had happened, his mood thoughtful. Access to this trial changed everything. With all the new things being introduced, his life had gone from a tedious plod to being jam-packed with activities. To his shock, he realised he was deliriously happy. The minutiae of the way he was going to be spending his time had shifted dramatically. The only shade being cast on his mood was the question of whether the training done in the trial counted the same as that done in the real world. If it did, he was going to be over the moon. Was there a penalty to skill gain, or could he spend every waking moment there? It didn¡¯t matter - no matter which way that calculation went, Tom was better off. What he mentally called the bad hours, the time where life was a real chore, could now be avoided. Activities like the two hours a day spent learning primary school stuff, and the quite literal child¡¯s play with Briana, could and would be skipped. Instead of that time being, for all intents and purposes completely wasted, he would spend it in the Divine Champions¡¯ trial around adults, and hopefully learning real life important facts about Existentia. Not to mention, of course, crafting to earn enough to get his pick of the special rewards. The boon of being able of being able to do both of those was not lost on Tom. The items on the curated list spoke for themselves, and the individuals in the open section represented an unparalleled pool of knowledge. They could educate him in a way that humanity, due to its collective ignorance, couldn¡¯t manage to do. If spell work performed there counted the same as it did in the trial and Existentia proper, it was possible for Tom to live there pretty much permanently, and only emerge in the real world for April¡¯s trial, resistance training, and fighting in the lairs. Even if there was a penalty, all was not lost. The dodge and obstacle course sessions remained both useful and fun. The irregular sessions he spent being taught the hammer did not enthuse him the same way, but he was going to continue to willingly participate in them because he acknowledged that learning any skills on offer was important. Likewise, his regular nightly activities weren¡¯t going to change. The exploration of the lairs to help enhance his combat abilities and his resistance training would continue at their current pace. It was like the perfect outcome. All the chaff had been cut out of his life, and replaced with stimulating activity. He had timed everything for when the morning lessons had just finished, and they had an hour before lunch. The three of them ran to the room to practice their dodging skills, immediately selecting the relative difficulty best suited to stretch themselves. Kang was two ahead of Briana, who was three ahead of him. Tom didn¡¯t mind his apparent slow progress, as he was fighting through significant handicaps. He touched the ring on his finger and channelled mana into it. Taking things easy was not an option, so he increased both the debilitating electrical pulses and the degree to which Dampen Senses acted upon him. Then he threw himself into training. His muscles were spasming constantly because of the electricity coursing through them. It made him an uncoordinated mess, and with his eyesight reduced to that of an old man with cataracts, everything rested on Danger Sense and the pseudo-Spark sensing domain that he was maintaining.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The second ability let him track the combat dummy as it entered the ring. As it circled him, he rotated to face it despite being blind. Anyone watching would have assumed that he could see it perfectly. It attacked him, and he was able to adjust and avoid it easily, but it was only an opening feint. From experience, this particular pit took a while to get going, so he remained on guard, knowing that things were about to get more serious. Danger Sense suddenly screamed at him and his Spark sensing cloud tagged the attack coming at him. The combat dummy appeared to be going after him with a double-handed overhead swing. He ordered his legs to jump backwards, but the left one spasmed instead. Instead of a graceful leap backwards, only one of his legs managed to push off the ground, which unbalanced him completely. If he had been able to plan for the moment, he could have compensated, but, with his feet positioning, he had needed movement from both legs to control his motion. Without that, his jump turned into a stumble backward and to the side. It was enough to avoid the blow, but, with a leg continuing to cramp, there was no way from him to regain his balance. A fall was inevitable. The combat dummy maintained its momentum. Its programming sensed the easy kill, and swung a roundhouse blow with its wooden club to punt his airborne body out of the ring and finish the bout. Unbalanced, his limbs not responding perfectly, there was nothing for Tom to do but accept the coming failure. Clinically, he spent a point of fate with the image of future good fortune. It was a wasteful use of the special resource because of the lack of specificity, but randomness was the strategy he was going for. The club the combat dummy was using crashed into his side. It lifted him and knocked him out of the ring. He groaned. There was no ding. Hopefully, the sacrifice of fate would let him gain his earned skill, eventually at least, but it didn¡¯t look like it was happening today. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Briana was next to him instantly. He smiled up at her: ¡°It didn¡¯t hurt. I¡¯m fine.¡± He responded happily, that there was no need to lie. Here, out of a combat situation, he wasn¡¯t as stingy with his mana as he would have been otherwise, and his healing magic had already completely deadened the pain. ¡°That sounded really, really bad.¡± She told him earnestly. ¡°I was watching, and I heard the thud.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t...¡± he sprang to his feet. He was internally wincing at the extra damage the movement had done, but keeping up appearances was important. ¡°It wasn¡¯t bad at all.¡± As he stood up, his magic went about fixing the two broken ribs and the more general material bruising over the collision area, along with a number of damaged organs. Experimentally, he tapped the spot where he had been hit. ¡°See, there¡¯s no reason to worry. I¡¯m healthy¡± She didn¡¯t look convinced, but he was making no move to go to the healing crystal, so she couldn¡¯t exactly dispute his arguments. ¡°Be more careful.¡± She ordered. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to dodge them, not get hit by them.¡± Her piece said, she went back to her pit, and then, thirty seconds later, once his healing was completed, Tom rechallenged his own. Once the session was over, they went to their normal isolation rooms, and Tom bantered with the two the entire time and pretended to be as reluctant as they were. However, the moment the room dinged to confirm his privacy, he rubbed his hands together in glee. This was it. He had a purpose to guide his spell growth. Carefully he swept the room to ensure there were no hidden intruders, and then he ran over to the wire frame spell resources folders. Immediately, he plucked out the lightning domain pack and went to work. Chapter 84.2 – Lightning Path The hierarchy of lightning affinity spells stretching from tier-zero all the way to the tier-six domain were laid out before him. Spark, of course, was the cornerstone tier zero spell, but it was not the only foundation piece at tier zero. There were five peak spells at tier-zero in this affinity, as opposed to the mere two in the Healing domain. In addition to Spark, there was a spell to enhance reflexes, another to shock anyone touching you, a defensive shield, and finally a spell to impart force with lightning instead of electricity. It was that last one, Lightning Force, which Tom focused on. He traced the interaction of the two of them up through their respective tiers. It was similar to what he had seen with healing. As he went up, the power and efficiency improved, but the scope of the actual abilities became more niche in their application. Tom ignored the barrier, body augmentation and pure lightning spells to focus on the ones that relied on a construct to function. After all, he was going to need something to attach Power Strike to. There were Lightning Spears, which he was already familiar with, as well as missile, arrow, and ball versions of attack spells, and he disregarded them all until his finger came to rest on a tier three spell called Lightning Javelin. The moment he did, he checked the description to ensure it would perform the way he needed it to. Spell: Lightning Javelin ¨C Tier 3 Creates a physical lightning construct that will launch at its target faster than the speed of sound. On collision, it will do the target both piercing and electrical damage. It lacked the randomness that Tom had initially been searching for, but it was fast, and should allow him to bring a ranged option against individuals significantly faster than him. None of the arcing lightning spells had a spear concept. Corrine was right in that he needed the spell to land for the stun effect of Spark to trigger, and to do that he had to include the ability to break shields - something Power Strike was uniquely positioned to do. His fingers traced what he had to do to construct the Javelin spell. There were a dozen intermediate tier-zero spell forms to reach Lightning Force, then a further twenty-three steps to traverse the tier-one and two hierarchies, and to be in a position to evolve the spell he was after from base components. Tom¡¯s fingers tapped the page, and he frowned. There were almost forty steps involved in getting the spell that he wanted, and, even if he progressed as fast as he had with Touch Heal, that was a big ask. Many of the things that he was going to be playing with were tier-one and two as well, which was likely to slow him down further. Forty steps meant it was going to be over half a year of training before he would gain it. Tom recognised what that duration implied. Until he got the spell, his chance of winning any deathmatches was low. It would be six months before his victory percentage could improve beyond its currently measly predicted two-to-five percent. It was a long time to wait, even if he would acquire a couple of spells in the meantime. Some of them were nice additions, but, unless he got a particularly rich sideways evolution, they weren¡¯t going to make a difference in the Divine Champions¡¯ trial. Some of them, however, had the potential to be useful for a significant span in the wider world. He flicked the pages and re-read the relevant descriptions. Spell: Electrify Weapon ¨C Tier 1 Sheath your weapon in electricity to deliver extra damage and the chance to stun upon impact. It would be forever minor, but once he had more mana, it was going to be a nice semi-permanent boost that could be added to any of his weapon blows. Then there were the ranged options. Once more, there was nothing outstanding there, but he could see them being useful for some time, though not forever, like the Electrified Weapon spell. Spell: Lightning Bolt ¨C Tier 1 A basic self-contained lightning missile that travels at the speed of a thrown rock and has a range of fifteen metres before degradation sets in. Spell: Lightning Arc ¨C Tier 2. An instantaneous strike with a range of up to ten metres. It is difficult to aim, and may ground before striking the target. Finally, there was the same Lightning Spears ability he had gained during his first life in Existentia. It was tier-two and allowed him to form phantom spears on the trajectory of his own weapon. With the right timing, it could land a powerful blow. However, it was expensive to use, but, in a fight requiring burst damage, it was a useful tool to have available. That was what he would get out of the thirty-five intermediate steps: four spells of dubious utility, and the Javelin spell he was targeting. Once more he looked over the hierarchy list, hoping to find a better option. However, the other potential choices contained nothing impressive until he reached the tier-five level, and he wasn¡¯t willing to wait that long to get something capable of influencing the death matches. Lightning Javelin was the only choice available, unless he was willing to wait over a year and maybe two to gain something better.Stolen story; please report. The rest of the session was devoted to reviewing his spear moves and practicing the dynamic wire frame of the latest trash form he had to master. Tom realised he was grinning. This was exciting. Even if he never got the Divine Affinity Fruit, just participating would be fun. The whole thing had completely reinvigorated him. After his isolation room session ended, Briana, Kang and him ran to the obstacle course. Together, they threw themselves into training. Tom had always considered himself to be approaching their physical play with peak intensity, but the energy of the new situation pushed his performance up a notch. He got personal bests on two different routes, and he mentally made a note to make sure complacency did not set in again. He had obviously thought he had been doing his best, but he clearly hadn¡¯t been. They reached the dining hall; it had a barbecue theme - sausages, chops, bread and basic salads. It was like the kitchen had phoned it in. He had been planning on enjoying his meal, but, given the look of what was being served, he decided to skip it. His body would get sustenance, and he would spend time doing something more fun. A moment later, he was standing on blue grass. He had set up an internal alarm for an hour¡¯s time, and he could feel it ticking away. He breathed in deeply, appreciating the change of scenery. The air did not remind him of crisp nature. Instead, there was a slight floral scent to it that seemed to hide a more unpleasant smell, and the air felt heavier than he was comfortable breathing. While the biome was almost certainly the one most suitable for him, it was not perfect for a human. If it had been set up for them, it would be less fragrant, and the grass would have been green. He glanced around. The level of activity he could see was not huge, but it was more than last time, when, for a while, it had just been him, Baptiste, and Amkhael. Instead, now the main area was a hive of activity, with over twenty different natives present. They were either locked in and staring at a screen, or chatting in small groups. He searched for anyone he knew, but none of them were around. ¡°Um, attendant. Are you available to help?¡± He asked the air. ¡°Yes?¡± the question behind him almost made him jump. He turned to find a familiar-looking weathered stone statue. ¡°Is Corrine here?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Can you take me to her?¡± ¡°Follow.¡± It said simply, and took off toward the central area. When they passed through the barrier into the communal space that unpleasant scent that he hadn¡¯t noticed the first time in the freshness of the experience thankfully vanished. The construct led him around the large stone in the middle and on the other side he spotted Corrine sitting in what, looking from his original position, had been a blind spot. She was talking animatedly to an armoured octopus-like creature that was a similar height to Corrine, but must have weighed twice as much. When she saw him, she broke off the conversation with a huge grin and waved him over. ¡°Tom, you¡¯re fucking early, and that¡¯s great. I¡¯m so excited that you¡¯re here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re missing dinner too.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Didn¡¯t you want to eat?¡± ¡°Nah, I was too excited.¡± She grabbed one of the tentacles of the person she was talking to. Tom wasn¡¯t sure if it had been offered to her to do so, or if it had been randomly waving and Corrine had taken advantage. ¡°I want you to meet Vturalta. She¡¯s fucking awesome and is about a thousand fucking years old.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Tom. Corrine has told me a lot about you.¡± ¡°Oh, really? Have you been gossiping?¡± ¡°No fucking way. I just mentioned your skills, like I said I would, and how they might end up being fucking useful to all of us. But now is not the time to talk about that. I robbed you of your chance to hear from Amkhael, and I still have basic stuff that I need to finish explaining to you.¡± ¡°I would like to chat further.¡± Vturalta told him politely. ¡°Maybe at a time that is convenient for both of us, but for now, I¡¯ll give you space.¡± There was a flash of light, and the octopus-like creature disappeared. Corrine immediately waved at the barrel-like seat and the pool of dirty water within it. That liquid was still sloshing as it stabilised from Vturalta teleporting away. ¡°Join me, Tom. I¡¯ve got so fucking much to share with you.¡± As Tom watched, the water vanished, and the rock changed until what was left was a soft, leather-covered seat. Corrine noticed where he was looking. ¡°Sections of this place are just like the system room. These are always locked into the functionality of being seats. They are the most fucking comfortable ones you¡¯ll ever find, and, as you¡¯ve seen, they automatically adapt for whoever¡¯s using them. And they are literally fucking divine.¡± She grinned at him cheekily. Her seat, he noted, was wider and taller than the one he had been offered, as the magic clearly customised itself to the individual and not the species. He sat down. ¡°What do you want to talk about first?¡± she asked. Tom immediately told her all about the wooden disk he had created, and the subsequent conversation with the constructs. When he finished, she whistled in appreciation. ¡°That could be a fucking game-changer. That is, if they work.¡± She corrected herself after a moment of thought. ¡°They¡¯ll do the job, or else the sales would be blocked.¡± ¡°Maybe. The GODs countered the trick the first four humans used, so who knows about this one. DEUS was clear from the start that Existentia was not necessarily fair. Out of interest, are you here for the rest of the evening, or do you have plans?¡± ¡°Plans. I¡¯ve got the dinner hour, and then have to go, because there is a hammer class that I should attend in person.¡± She pouted in response: ¡°Are you really going to abandon me for a fucking secondary weapon?¡± Tom sighed. ¡°I need the second weapon for my cover story.¡± She laughed at him. ¡°Lighten up. I was just fucking with you. Will you come back after, or are you done for the night?¡± ¡°I¡¯m definitely returning, because if I don¡¯t, I¡¯ll probably be made to play figurines.¡± Corrine shuddered: ¡°Are they really still doing that?¡± ¡°They definitely are.¡± ¡°Poor you. I¡¯m glad my cohort are beyond that. My friends like to gossip and talk about which boys are the hottest and all the scandals going on.¡± Corrine rolled her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I come here so often.¡± ¡°Does being here affect training rates?¡± Tom blurted out before he could help himself. Corrine sighed. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the only downside. I suggest you talk to a construct to confirm the personal level of your penalty. Progression rates vary by person and activity, so you need to keep checking with them when you train something new. Some of my spells receive seventy percent of outside improvement, but other activities only grant two percent of external progress. The rules are fucking indecipherable.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll ask before committing to training, then.¡± ¡°Good. Let¡¯s get going. I¡¯ll use the time you¡¯re not here to chat with the open contestants about your disk idea. I¡¯ll see if there is any precedent or research to let us confirm your idea¡¯s viability. For now, I wanted to talk about GOD shields.¡± Everyone who had gone through the tutorial understood exactly how they worked. ¡°I think I understand the concept.¡± He said dryly. Chapter 85.1 – Evolving Lists Corrine smirked at his claim about the GOD¡¯s shields: ¡°No, you really don¡¯t understand the concept. This is a contested competition. There are subtleties you aren¡¯t aware of. For example, the full GOD shields used here are top of the line. They¡¯re better than average ones. You remember how, during our duel, you were removed from the battlefield a second before you died? That¡¯s an example of how they protect you from psychological harm. Most of the standard ones force you to experience the death even if they restore you to full health afterwards.¡± ¡°Is psychological harm really that much of a concern?¡± he scoffed. ¡°A concern? Absolutely fucking yes. Fuck yes, it is.¡± Corrine almost yelled at him before visibly forcing herself to calm down. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, that was out of line. It¡¯s just that¡­ yes, the extra protection of the full shield is important. Once I¡¯ve explained everything, you¡¯ll understand. Now, as I was saying, the full GOD shield is really good. It protects against physical, psychological, and soul injuries.¡± ¡°And Skill exhaustion?¡± Tom asked, remembering the trial where that was one thing that April could not fix. She looked at him strangely. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s also covered.¡± ¡°Does it replenish fate?¡± She glared at him. ¡°Stop interrupting. No, neither fate nor mana are restored afterwards. Not that you should worry about fate. You should go into each fight empty.¡± Her eyes were challenging his. ¡°Easy, Corrine. I¡¯m not going to be reckless.¡± ¡°You better not. You use both your disk and fate before every battle, understand?!¡± ¡°Why do you care?¡± ¡°Because she died.¡± Corrine cut herself off before she said anything further. ¡°Just use both. Please. We shouldn¡¯t have to talk about this.¡± ¡°I said I will, and I don¡¯t break my word.¡± ¡°Good. The full shield is powerful. I¡¯ve come out of a battle and been unable to remember what had happened. It was hazy. Sometimes I can recall the start of the arena and even the appearance of my opponent, but there was one time I didn¡¯t even remember that. I couldn¡¯t recall anything, and then I checked the official results and saw who I¡¯d been fighting.¡± She shuddered. ¡°That¡¯s when it made sense. I was so thankful I had a full GOD¡¯s shield. I couldn¡¯t remember anything, which saved my sanity. It was one of¡­¡± She stopped talking and looked like she wanted to run from the room and hide under a bed. For a moment, she was a terrified twelve-year-old. The confidence that she normally held herself with was gone. ¡°Trust me, Tom, it gets bad. Real bad. The partial GOD shield protects you against death. It¡¯ll fix you enough to guarantee you won¡¯t die from your injuries. But that¡¯s all it does. And don¡¯t for an instant think that, if you survive, you can heal yourself fully, because it isn¡¯t true. This competition includes terror races. There are worse things than death, and the champions of the terror races know how to bring it. I¡¯ve seen the aftermath of someone who thought they were sufficiently resilient to go without a full shield. They weren¡¯t. They were left with curses that couldn¡¯t be purged. Ones to stop them healing, along with crippling damage to their soul. Every decade there is even a case of a proper regeneration ability being broken. Something like phoenix full restore ending up permanently damaged¡­ It¡¯s scary.¡± She stopped for a moment and glanced around. There were people in clear sight, but none of them were reacting to what was being said. It was clear that they had a privacy ward of some kind, but just muting sound and turning off the automatic translation of body language would probably have been enough to give them full confidentiality. ¡°Terror races don¡¯t think like us. There was no parallel on earth to what they are - not even a mass-murdering psychopath can compare. You have to witness the aftermaths to truly understand. Everything is fucking perfectly clinical and precisely done. They break all of you, not just your flesh and mind, they also crack your fucking abilities and scar your fucking soul. I¡¯ve seen people survive, and then waste away afterwards, and die a few fucking weeks later.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°That sounds...¡± Tom imagined the horror movies from Earth, and he wasn¡¯t sure they could capture the feel of what Corrine was talking about. ¡°Why are partial shields even a thing, then?¡± ¡°Oh, because only a few individuals in each bucket have the skills to do that level of maiming. For every broken person that comes out from a partial shield, there are dozens or more who survive with injuries that they can fully heal. The lure of riches, the extra coins you can get, is too much of an incentive for some people, and, despite the extremes, a partial shield is statistically five times safer than none.¡± She licked her lips. ¡°The rule is, don¡¯t use a partial shield unless you have multiple redundancies in place to let you kill yourself if you run up against the wrong opponent. Those broken people thought they had safeguards, but they obviously weren¡¯t effective.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Tom said finally. ¡°But why the speech? I¡¯m never going to use a partial shield, as it seems like a waste. If I¡¯m going to win, I want no shield, and if I¡¯m losing, I¡¯d be an idiot not to have a full version. Caring about partial shields doesn¡¯t work for humans.¡± ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t,¡± she agreed. ¡°But I still think you needed to know, which brings me to the next point. The reward you get depends on the shield you enter with, but the penalty you suffer is that of the lowest shield in play. That means you can only permanently kill someone if both contestants forgo a shield. We have data that the creatures that torture only go in with a partial shield. That protects them because they can destroy the midrange fighters using a partial shield, and our better fighters can¡¯t kill them because their shields save them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s unfair.¡± ¡°It¡¯s them exploiting the rules, just like DEUS does by giving a hand to failing species. But we try to counter-strike. The top ten in each bucket has a job, in addition to getting coins, and that is take the torturers out of play.¡± ¡°How?¡± Tom started to ask and then stopped himself. His question was going to be. ¡®How do they do that, if they can¡¯t kill them?¡¯ The answer was obvious, though. ¡°Does DEUS really force all the strongest learn how to torture?¡± She nodded. ¡°Technically, they all volunteer. Unofficially, they¡¯re expected to make it count if they are lucky enough to get the opportunity. That¡¯s the rules for the elite. But we¡¯re all in the same spot. Everyone not using a full GOD shield has the same standing instructions.¡± ¡°And they are?¡± ¡°If you go in without a GOD shield, you are to kill representatives of MAKROS and FAMES and offer the chance of surrender to everyone else, unless they are recorded as having killed or maimed a DEUS representative.¡± ¡°Does the system tell you the faction you¡¯re fighting?¡± She nodded. ¡°That, and how many kills and incapacitations they have achieved. An incapacitation to the system occurs when someone is effectively knocked out of fighting for a month or more following your bout. It doesn¡¯t care whether it is due to permanent harm or purely psychological damage, or if you were actually killed in real life. So, they can be misleading.¡± ¡°So, I¡¯ll know if I¡¯m against a terror race. I¡¯ll also be able to see how many people my opponent has killed. But that doesn¡¯t mean anything, because they might have just been killing terror races. What did you mean by that second bit? That order to kill others who had done the same to one of ours? Is there a flag to identify them?¡± ¡°No flag, but there¡¯s a list we maintain for everyone to memorise.¡± She waved her hand, and it was printed on the table in front of them. There were only six entries. He studied the pictures, names, and factions. ¡°Really? You have to be joking. You¡¯ve got a representative of SANATORES on the to-be-killed list? How can that be right?¡± he asked, arching his eyebrows to indicate his disbelief. ¡°It¡¯s above board. We think it was probably a misunderstanding. It¡¯s also been two months since the incident, and that person hasn¡¯t turned up again. It¡¯s possible they realised they stuffed up and withdrew in shame.¡± Tom closed his eyes and considered the scenario. He had met the Chosen who were SANATORES¡¯ representation in the current competition. It was easy to imagine how one of them would have reacted if they had accidentally killed a sapient. They most likely would have self-sacrificed in response. They had not been a species that knew how to cope with feelings like guilt. This other person withdrawing or doing something more extreme in the background made a lot of sense in that context. Corrine blatantly switched topics to the one about her future growth. She had clearly recognised his darkening mood, and had acted to see it off. She spoke animatedly about what she planned to do once she got access to earn experience at fifteen. For her, it was still almost three years away, but it was clear she had already decided on the path she wanted to take. Too soon, his alarm went off and, with reluctant steps, he left to practice his war hammer skills. Chapter 85.2 – Evolving Lists An hour later, with nothing significant having occurred, his practise was over. Immediately, he took a sideways step into what he considered to be his new system room. On the nearest monitor, he could see his body trudging tiredly to the cleaning loop and walking through it. Tom grinned. All the boring routine was being removed, because he could come here. Instead of the drudgery of being six, he could escape to do more fun things. He smiled, just the way he had been doing all day. It was bubbling up constantly from within him, surprising him at random times. And Corrine, he was sure, would be waiting for him impatiently. He strode toward the door that led to the shared biome,s and then stopped just before he stepped through. It was subtle, but the Curated List had a small asterisk next to it. At a thought, it opened up, and he stared at the two new entries in surprise. The reason for the two unexpected new lines was clear. He had openly considered selling his services, and DEUS had reacted to his plans and taken steps to help him. He suspected he knew what both entries represented, but he decided to check them, anyway. Skill: Living Wood Enhancement ¨C Tier 3 Allows the user to improve the tier of a piece of wood. Level of tiering up is only limited by skill level. Note: This can be delivered in three ways.
  1. Immediately granted.
  2. If spatial storage is available, as a skill stone.
  3. If spatial storage is available and a relevant training trial is accessible, it can be taken as a skill plan to be used within the trial.
Personalised Advice: If the skill is invested into the training trial, you will have 65% chance of acquiring after 40 hours of training and 99.7% after 65 hours. Overall, it was a pedestrian run-of-the-mill skill, and it was not one that he would have thought about searching for, let alone buying. The discount didn¡¯t draw him in, either. Twenty percent felt like a joke. Out of all the discounted items, this was already the least appealing. If he had been getting a seventy percent reduction, then his viewpoint might have been different, but twenty? It felt almost insulting. However, that thread of thought was a moot point, and one he had to suppress. DEUS had highlighted this skill for him for a reason. With it displayed in front of him, and if he cleared his mind, he could acknowledge the value of acquiring it. With all of his various disadvantages, using his ability to tier-up both his weapon and armour to a higher level would even the battlefield slightly. ¡°Still not buying it.¡± He muttered to himself. That, by itself, wasn¡¯t sufficient. It wasn¡¯t terrible as such, but, given the crappy discount and probably little true combat utility, he was hesitant. The only thing that swayed him away from rejecting it permanently was the personalised advice. It was a tier-three skill that he was effectively guaranteed to get with April¡¯s help within a month and a half; possibly even shorter than that, if he invested more than ten hours a session on it. As much as he might like to pretend otherwise, that was huge. Yes, it was a crafting skill, but just the benefit it would give to his title was potentially worth those fourteen coins. ¡°A maybe. I¡¯ll leave it as a maybe,¡± he said finally. The moment he made the decision, the text on display changed to the next item on his agenda. The responsiveness was a form of low-level mind reading, but that was something that he was well and truly used to. Consumable: Precognition Ritual Knowledge. Consuming this item will give you memories of three days of intensive tutoring by an expert on Precognition Rituals. It will build upon and consolidate existing knowledge, and has no limitations on the knowledge of the person using it. The reason for the massive discount was because this was not a reward that had been intended for someone who could be best described as an apprentice crafter. The consumable was there to be used by a master craftsman, or possibly a grandmaster - one to push them to the next level.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The thought of someone like Tom using something like this in the outside world would be anathema to anyone who knew how valuable the knowledge crystal truly was. Tom agreed with them, but he was also very conscious of the massive discount attached to it. That told him that using the crystal was going to be required. Hopefully, it was only going to be necessary to use this to get his ritual design upgraded to the tier-three level to help those in the open section, and not to create the first sellable items which could be immediately useful to people in his bucket. No matter how it played out, it was clear that DEUS wanted him to purchase and use it to better arm her champions with the knowledge to keep them alive. Without that pressure to immediately consume it, the correct way to maximise the value of the treasure would have been to buy it and then spend a decade improving his level and understanding of the specific ritual to an unbelievable level; to become so knowledgeable in the single niche spell that he could not only carve it in his sleep, but also redesign it on the fly. Only then, after he had promoted his abilities to the absolute pinnacle, would the treasure be used, and Tom was sure that, in those circumstances, it would create epiphanies that would push the crafters abilities beyond what hard work, luck and persistence would ever be able to unlock. As it was, he had too many things to spend his coins on, and, before he could afford to buy anything, he had to actually win a fight. Tom sighed at that thought; based on the scenarios they had run, that might take months. With thoughts of future artefacts and power-ups running through his head, he stepped through the door and onto blue grass. Corrine was pacing back and forth, waiting for him. A spell that comprised a mixture of flame and wind was swirling above her outstretched hand. There was something fascinating about it. The intensity of its mana lines was incredible, and they were so sharp and refined. Looking at it, he felt he could peer into the depths and see the spell form. It was like he was an instant away from comprehending all of it. It winked out of existence abruptly, and he realised that Corrine was staring at him with a very self-satisfied grin. While it had felt like he had been studying the dancing flames for mere seconds, he realised that wasn¡¯t true. He had been entranced for far longer. Perhaps for over a minute. The way she was looking at him made a lot more sense. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be immune to something like this.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± he blustered with some hope remaining. She laughed loudly in response to his attempt at stone-walling, then winked. ¡°It¡¯s an attack spell which also has a subtle hypnotic effect. Makes you see it as fascinating.¡± On one hand, he knew he had fallen for it. On the other, it felt like he shouldn¡¯t have. ¡°Um¡­ can you create it again?¡± A smaller version of the previous spell appeared, hovering above her outstretched hand. This time Tom was on alert and he felt no desire to stare at it. There was still a slight psychic pressure, but it was easy to resist, and the only reason it had worked the first time was because he had known he was in a place where he was a hundred percent safe. She nodded appreciatively when he met her eyes, clearly not enthralled by her spell. ¡°If I¡¯m on the alert, it won¡¯t get me.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t do it now due to a lack of mana, but if I were to make it four times stronger?¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°Not even close. Unless the psychic strength increases by orders of magnitude, it doesn¡¯t stand a chance of affecting me if we¡¯re in hostile territory, let alone during a life-or-death duel.¡± ¡°Which means you definitely have stronger mental resistance than most do,¡± she said carefully. ¡°I¡¯ve been testing this, and it¡¯s strong enough to impact most people in the lower child bucket.¡± Then she frowned. ¡°Unfortunately, not anyone in my cohort. By the time they reach my age, they¡¯ve rounded out their skills, which includes getting the mental resistance abilities.¡± The ball of flames had been steadily growing, until it had nearly reached its initial intensity. She pouted when it was clear it wasn¡¯t going to enthral, him and then it vanished. ¡°Come on. I¡¯ve got people you want to talk to.¡± He followed her as she led him through another one of the portals. It took them to a room filled with even more gateways. There must have been over forty of them, and it was clearly communal space, because the temperature remained perfect for him. ¡°These lead to all the other community spaces,¡± she explained. ¡°It¡¯d take a while to learn them, but you can guess at where they go based on the carvings.¡± She did not break her stride, but, despite her pace, Tom had time to examine some of the frames they were passing. The first showed people exclusively flying, which probably signified an aerial environment. ¡°Would I die if I went through?¡± he inclined his head at the portal. She glanced at him and laughed. ¡°A full GOD shields death, yeah. There¡¯s always a rumour of a rookie going into that or the magnum pool one by accident and dying, but no one¡¯s ever fessed up to it when I¡¯ve asked.¡± They were almost at their destination and the next frame he examined featured symbols that had something to do with being blacksmith; then time was up. Without pausing, Corrine led him through one of four identical doors that showed seats and books. Once he had stepped through, he appeared in an occupied conference room. Vturalta from earlier was present, along with Amkhael. In addition to them, there was a four-legged two armed feathered person, and a massive double layered centipede the size of three linked train carriages. It filled the room - it must have been sixty meters long and had over a hundred legs, and then directly above each of them was an arm. Just like the legs, there were too many arms to count, and this wasn¡¯t a dumb beast. Most of the hands held a weapon - usually a ranged one, but there were shields mixed in there along with long spears. He was thankful he was in a neutral territory with a full GOD¡¯s shield, because, even knowing they were friendly, that centipede was intimidating. It could kill him a hundred times over before he could react. While it was the most physically imposing creature here, the others gathered, Tom was sure, were just as deadly. Amkhael, after all, had crushed the construct like it was inconsequential - something Tom was sure it could just as easily do to him. All four of what he hoped were only open competitors stared at the two of them. Corrine smiled confidently. ¡°This, guys, is Tom.¡± Chapter 86 – Ritual Complications ¡°Welcome, Tom,¡± the centipede that was the length of three train carriages said. ¡°My name is Throm. Corrine has briefed us, so we all know why we are here. Please, child, before we commence, is it possible for us to study the disk?¡± The moment the question was raised, he found that he could feel the disk, hidden under his clothes, pressing against his chest. It hadn¡¯t been there an instant earlier, but he also knew that the clothes he wore had not been disturbed when it had manifested. Everyone gathered, he was sure, would perceive him to have been carrying it with him. ¡°Um¡­I.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be scared, child,¡± Throm said gently. ¡°We¡¯re here to help, not to judge.¡± There was no point worrying or delaying. The second the idea had occurred to him, this gathering was destined to happen. Without any further words, he pulled the disk out, then opened his palm to show them. ¡°This¡­¡± He stopped talking as a force levitated his disk over to the central table standing between them all. Glowing energy radiated up from the table to encase the disk, until it looked like the disk was the plug of a semi-translucent, glowing vase. The magical container filled with more and more power, until suddenly first one semi-transparent coin, and then three more, popped out of the top and floated out to hover in front of each of the others. ¡°Interesting,¡± Throm muttered. ¡°You have done well, child. The ritual design is terrible, as expected. The craftsmanship is passable, which is a huge credit to one so young. However, all of that pales beneath the factor that it has been infused with genuine precognition affinity mana. Despite its weaknesses, that last part makes it all work. This is very, very interesting. Corrine, thank you for bringing him here.¡± The feathered person tapped the disk in front of it. ¡°What¡¯s your precognition affinity? This seems high.¡± She focused on him with her eyes narrowing¡­ then there was a slight pause. ¡°Boy¡­ What level is your affinity?¡± ¡°Around ninety-six,¡± Throm answered on his behalf. ¡°No, it¡¯s only ninety-five.¡± Tom corrected. He was very aware of how even one difference at that level completely changed an affinity¡¯s impact. The centipede focused on him while its closest arms were all forming different magic spells. They must have been designed to probe the power of his creation, because, when completed, they would fly off and trigger on or around the duplicate of his disk that Throm had been given to study. ¡°Ninety-five. Fascinating. How accurate was the testing apparatus?¡± ¡°It was a trial.¡± One of the spells he was using shattered the duplicate disk. The vase reacted by glowing brighter, and after a pause of only a couple of seconds, a new copy was created and drifted back out. ¡°It must be a high ninety-five. I wouldn¡¯t have expected any of the juniors to be able to do anything like this, but the affinity really solves a lot of issues.¡± Amkhael podded his own and appeared annoyed. ¡°I can see the benefit, but what about the downsides? Using them might be a death trap. Our opponents may have the skills to stop it, and overconfidence is death. There¡¯s a reason hardly anyone goes the no-GOD-shield option - it only takes one mistake for your luck to fail, and eventually everyone fighting like that dies. No one ever wins through two-hundred-plus battles perfectly.¡± He appeared to be staring at Corrine as he said that. ¡°Doubtful,¡± Throm told him. ¡°We can manage overconfidence, and, once the ritual goes up a tier, standard countermeasures won¡¯t stop it. You can see that, can¡¯t you, Amkhael?¡± ¡°Yes, of course I can. Right now they¡¯ll work, but our enemies will adapt. MAKROS and FAMES will both be proactive once the statistical change becomes obvious.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a difference between identifying and countering. This will not be a simple problem to stop.¡± Throm said waving the duplicate disk around with his most forward arm. ¡°Especially with the geas interference working in our favour for once. In my opinion it¡¯ll take them months before even one of them would be able to trick the technique. Speaking of that, we should save them all up and then use them in a massive boost.¡± ¡°Throm, I can¡¯t wait. I¡¯m going to have to clear stock quickly to get stronger¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware, child. Once you¡¯ve got ones to sell, you¡¯ll have a market.¡± ¡°So, you think it¡¯s viable?¡± ¡°Child, we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation if the potential wasn¡¯t there, but your ritual designs need to improve first.¡± ¡°I have an item on my curated list that will do that. I just need to get thirteen coins from somewhere. Can you guys lend it to me?¡± They all looked at each other. ¡°You can¡¯t borrow coins, and nor can you be gifted them.¡± Corrine said finally. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. I¡¯m sure someone said there was trading we can do¡­¡± ¡°You have to possess an item of sufficient value to do that.¡± Tom pondered about what he could borrow or steal to trade to get a better start. It would have to be something worth thirteen coins or approximately forty thousand experiences. ¡°Maybe I can get something.¡± He muttered. ¡°It won¡¯t work,¡± Vturalta interrupted him gently. ¡°The trades not only have to be genuine and benefit both sides - they also have to be with the things you¡¯ve earnt. A nation can¡¯t raid their treasuries to allow their candidate to convert unwanted stuff into coins to get the manuals to teach skills, because that would be broken.¡± ¡°There are ways around that,¡± Throm said. ¡°But they¡¯re limited, and, from what I understand from Corrine and the situation you are in, they are not pathways you can take.¡± ¡°The main method that has worked has been age-bracketed tournaments with ridiculous prizes.¡± Corrine supplied for him. ¡°Definitely not something we can risk, given the assassins.¡± Tom wanted to protest how unfair it was that the threat of the assassins was stopping him from maximising the opportunity, but he stopped himself. If it was Briana in his situation, it would have been different. If the risk of being killed prevented her from taking advantage of this opportunity, there would be consequences for the other GODs. But as it was, with him as a reincarnated one, all he could do was accept the rules and work within them. The octopus stirred, and water splashed everywhere. ¡°Besides, the exchange rate is poor in any case. You need to offer far more than the cost of the coins, and the taxes taken off both sides means that deals rarely go through.¡± ¡°So, I can¡¯t get the boost until I¡¯ve won some fights?¡± ¡°One fight.¡± Corrine said cheekily. ¡°Thirteen,¡± Both Vturalta and Throm thundered at the same time. ¡°Thirteen,¡± Throm said more reasonably. ¡°Tom¡¯s collective value is too much for him to risk himself unnecessarily. And I know, child, that such a delay might take an uncomfortably long period of time.¡± The front half of the centipede¡¯s legs lifted, and Tom had the impression of a disapproving old lady peering over her glasses at him and Corrine. ¡°I dare say, too long; and I suspect what you¡¯re talking about is required to go up to a tier-three ritual. However, there is nothing stopping us from teaching you theory to let you design and create the tier-two version.¡± He was both excited and appalled. Corrine caught his expression and started laughing at him. ¡°Be warned, both Throm and Vturalta love to lecture.¡± ¡°Child, I¡¯m confident that Vturalta and myself can push you to the next level.¡± Tom¡¯s mind raced. He knew exactly what he was being offered, but suffering through constant lecturers did not sound like a fun use of his time.Stolen story; please report. ¡°I want to learn,¡± he lied poorly, knowing that at their ages they would almost certainly pick up both the untruth, and, hopefully, the distaste he associated with that type of studious learning. ¡°But I¡¯ve learned this ritual by duplicating a fully formed framework, which was a method that worked well for me. Basically, I was given a mesh of fine wire about as large as the table,¡± he pointed at the one they were gathered around. ¡°It detailed the entire ritual. Then I spent days practicing inscribing its lines into the interior of the wood. Could you do something similar?¡± Throm glanced at Vturalta, then back to Tom. ¡°Are you saying you were just copying things dumbly?¡± He seemed to be astounded by the idea. ¡°I¡¯m six,¡± Tom pointed out to them, knowing that on the translation they were hearing four. ¡°What you¡¯re talking about would take years of foundation courses. I haven¡¯t lived long enough for something like that.¡± ¡°No, we understand,¡± Throm interrupted. ¡°Our young are the same. You humans always speak so maturely that I make mistakes about your development levels. Among my species, our wormlings can¡¯t do any advanced construction like this until their second malt.¡± Tom looked at him blankly. ¡°Between twenty and thirty years,¡± Throm corrected. Once more, he was hearing things in earth years to make it easier to understand. ¡°I was only surprised you could do this through memorisation. It is not an easy ritual.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve always had an excellent memory. So, if you can create an example of the ritual, I can start building.¡± Throm was still hesitant. ¡°We won¡¯t be giving him anything,¡± Vturalta pointed out. ¡°And definitely not an artefact.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you should risk it.¡± Amkhael disagreed. Throm nodded at him. ¡°I respect your view, Amkhael, but it¡¯s my choice and my risk. I¡¯ll do it.¡± Then the many arms on his back became active. About twenty down one side were participating. The weapons were quickly stored in order to free up the hands. Some were strapped against his body, others were placed in spatial bags. More wire than he had ever employed in golem construction appeared, and it was a better one, too. The quantity was especially impressive because stone golems required a lot of wire to function, as you had to build mana flow pathways which were equivalent to a human¡¯s circulatory system. The hands immediately started manipulating it and forming it into complicated shapes. Specialised tools were used to bend the wire precisely. ¡°Are you a jeweller or something?¡± Tom asked. The giant centipede laughed deeply. ¡°It¡¯s a side hobby.¡± ¡°Throm¡¯s over ten thousand years old.¡± Vturalta told him. ¡°Even if he is fighting ninety percent of the time, that¡¯s still leaving him thousand years to learn various crafts. You¡¯ll find that he is a master in many disciplines.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a crazed warrior by my people¡¯s standard, but I limit battle situations to less than two-thirds of my life. My main hobby is to carve stone.¡± His body was undulating sub-consciously to broadcast his sudden excitement at the topic. ¡°Here, let me show you.¡± As massive as the creature was, it was behaving like any excitable amateur hobbyist. The closest hand to his head produced a crystal, then pointed it at the wall. Tom had to concentrate in order to disable his ability to pierce illusions so that he could see it. He squinted as he tried to comprehend what was being displayed. It was a centipede, with multiple segments crawling up a mound. But there was white at the top, then a section of brown and then green below. He struggled to understand the medium, but it was vaguely familiar. Then he realised what it was, but surely it couldn¡¯t be that. The concept was ridiculous. However, even if it was a stupid question, he had to ask. ¡°Is¡­ Is that a mountain?¡± ¡°Only a little one.¡± Throm confirmed. ¡°Barely five kilometres high.¡± Tom swallowed heavily. That was over half the height of Mount Everest but, based on the image, Tom couldn¡¯t disagree. That was snow and trees, and, now that his mind had adjusted to the concept, he could imagine someone with sufficient magic and time doing something outlandish like this. ¡°What rank are you?¡± ¡°Fuck, Tom. Show some manners.¡± Corrine interjected. ¡°Don¡¯t ask questions like that. They¡¯re rude. Sorry, guys, he¡¯s an idiot.¡± The gathered open competitors burst out laughing. ¡°He¡¯s a child, Corrine,¡± Throm said gently. ¡°Wormlings make mistakes.¡± ¡°But he should know better.¡± Corrine glared at Tom. He decided to ignore her. She didn¡¯t know about Social Silence, and, while he had known the question could cause offense, he had also figured that the skill would protect him. It was impossible for any of his thoughtless comments to truly damage anyone¡¯s opinions of him without the skills kicking in. It was worth probing, because he wanted to know how strong these native powerhouses were. ¡°It is just you¡¯d have to be really powerful to carve mountains as a hobby. Is it a self-sculpture?¡± Throm laughed again, all of his arms jiggling. ¡°No, that¡¯s a tribute to Shoon, the greatest of us.¡± ¡°Is he stronger than you?¡± ¡°Yes, he reached rank two hundred and fifty-six. We thought he would ascend to be a GOD, but it was not to be. When he died, he had risen to two hundred and sixty-three, and those eight extra levels took him almost a thousand years. It¡¯s difficult to gain experience at that point, even with access to a bottomless trial.¡± ¡°A bottomless trial,¡± he breathed in amazement. It was considered the most powerful of the different trial types, because, if you had access, you could raise yourself to be significantly stronger than the nearby wild lands. Effectively, it would mean giving your species¡¯ safety against everything out there that could threaten them. The fact that the drops you found once you completed floors above a hundred could sustain a species¡¯ knowledge base and prop up the next generation was also important. ¡°Everyone in the open section has to have access to a similar resource. Shoon was at the level that every floor took a month to complete.¡± ¡°Is that how long you take per floor? What ranks are you delving in?¡± The mood shifted slightly; it became less amused, less forgiving. ¡°Child, I know you are young and probably think you were clever for asking around the topic rather than probing directly, but it is rude to push a warrior to divulge their rank.¡± Throm said gently. ¡°I acknowledge we are here amongst friends, but it is still important to stay within the bounds of politeness. I am nowhere near what Shoon achieved. I¡¯m rank one hundred and ninety.¡± ¡°Throm, you shouldn¡¯t indulge him.¡± Amkhael said with annoyance. ¡°Now he¡¯ll be asking everyone.¡± ¡°And if he persists with such a course of foolishness, no one will begrudge you disciplining him. Wormlings must be taught the consequences of their actions, after all.¡± Throm said, unconcerned. ¡°I¡¯m the highest,¡± Vturalta volunteered. ¡°At two hundred and ten; but don¡¯t ask anyone else. Throm and I have the power to spare and come from eternal empires, so we can be more open about such things and risk no consequences.¡± ¡°Eternal empires?¡± Throm laughed at his expression. ¡°It¡¯s just a name for empires with multiple cataclysmic powerhouse threats and a sustained existence of over a hundred thousand years.¡± Tom¡¯s brain shut down a little at that casual quoting of a time period that was longer than humans had existed on Earth, at least in their modern form, especially when he got the feeling that there were lots of eternal empires out there. The scale of Existentia remained something he couldn¡¯t truly comprehend. It was just too large for him to envision, even if logically he could state facts about it. Ideas like an eternal empire were still capable of taking his breath away. ¡°Wow. Eternal. It¡¯s just - nations on that scale - they¡¯re¡­¡± Tom stopped talking as, abruptly, a shudder went through the massive centipede. Bright light played over the wire that Throm had been creating, and the previously stiff metal melted and lost its structure. It dripped down, with most of it falling on the giant centipede, and it was hot enough that it burned furrows into the thick skin. Throm didn¡¯t even flinch. Instead, all of his arms and legs went limp and his entire body sunk to rest fully on the ground rather than being supported by his feet. The antenna which had always been moving stilled, and his expressive mouth that communicated most of his emotions became slack. ¡°That¡¯s not good,¡± Amkhael said, hovering in the air. The body language interpreter told him that the rock was expressing either fear or sympathy, or both. ¡°Skipped warning and went straight to punishment.¡± Vturalta agreed. ¡°I guess the system considered that to be undue interference.¡± Concern spiked through Tom. None of the body language comforted him. Whatever was happening to Throm was a blank spot that the usual interpreting function told him nothing about. Vturalta was the most stable one among the others, and even she was agitated. All the feathers of the bird had puffed, which meant it was preparing to flee, and Amkhael¡¯s body language had become more extreme. He alternated between wanting to fight and sinking into the ground to hide. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Tom demanded. ¡°There are rules about assistance,¡± she explained quietly. ¡°Passing on knowledge is fine, but the system decided what Throm was creating counted as an artefact. Which is judged, as you can see, harshly.¡± ¡°But he hadn¡¯t even created half of it!¡± The armoured octopus shifted to face Tom. ¡°And the fact you knew that is part of the problem. You learnt something from the artefact; hence the punishment.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Not your fault, young one.¡± Throm whispered, his voice slurring slightly. The mouth was partially functioning again, but had clearly not fully recovered. ¡°It was just a warning, and a minor one at that.¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t look minor,¡± Amkhael said. The way the other two adults glared at the rock told Tom and Corrine everything they needed to know. Throm had been lying to make them feel better. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Child, it¡¯s fine.¡± Throm continued gently. ¡°It was my choice to push the boundaries, and I¡¯ve been reprimanded to remind me that¡¯s never a good idea. Nothing has truly been lost. We¡¯ll just have to teach you as opposed to showing you, like in the original plan.¡± Vturalta took over the conversation, probably due to the effort Throm had to expend to speak. What followed was some of the most boring theory Tom had ever heard. It made April¡¯s presentation nattering on while he worked seem engaging. Multiple times both Vturalta and Throm were forced to stop mid-sentence, their throats having stopped working as they ran into a geas, but there were no more punishments dished out, as far as he could tell. Three hours of lecturing later, Tom was well and truly over it. All they had covered was that him duplicating the tier-one looking forward in time component two dozen times was not how you were supposed to increase the analysis horizon. ¡°I¡¯m struggling,¡± Tom finally interjected. Corrine and the other two open contestants had long since excused themselves, so it was just him and the two lecturers. ¡°My species needs nine hours of sleep.¡± ¡°We¡¯re aware, child.¡± Throm said. ¡°I just got too excited and kept you from your sleeping cave. Go with my blessings.¡± A moment later, he was back in his body. He was in bed and the rush of memories told Tom that his avatar could not go to sleep without him. Instead, it had tried to stay still, but there had been a small amount of uncomfortable tossing and turning. For all the advantages the new space had, avoiding sleep was not one of them. Chapter 87.1 – Short Term Planning He woke up, feeling refreshed, and threw himself into the new routine. The equation around what was the optimal use of his time was unclear. Benefits for his magic practice sat at only a thirteen percent penalty, and given that there was no risk of assassins discovering him here, practicing magic here was almost better. For new spells, the kind he was just training while working toward a perfect cast, the cost was zero. Mixed abilities like hammer mastery and the earned fate skill he was chasing had a variable penalty, but the cost was going to average out to thirty percent. Physically training for the sake of skill development was the only thing that definitely had to occur in the real world, as the penalty cost of doing it in the community space was over ninety percent. That didn¡¯t stop him from fighting a series of duels, though, since he needed to better understand how it worked. Corrine was organising them, and, because she was grabbing whoever she could, they were all flagged as an instant loss in the comparison model they had created. That categorisation proved frustratingly accurate. It was depressing how easily they slaughtered him, and his survival time was pretty much a question of how long it took them or their attack spell to reach him. He was introduced to a lot of different people, and there were no side comments questioning why he was here. Without the presenter having told everyone he was in the current competition, everyone assumed he had a secret trick to offset his obvious weakness. The fact that he was getting a personal tutor from the open-bracket powerhouses only reinforced that assumption of value. ¡°Tom!¡± Corrine yelled excitedly as she rushed over to interrupt the lecture. Vturalta, who had been giving it, did not look upset at the interruption. It had been clear for a fair while that Tom¡¯s attention, despite his best efforts, had been wavering. ¡°Yes,¡± he said hopefully. ¡°I got you a fight.¡± Internally, he both celebrated that he was going to escape the torture of learning about rituals for a while, but he also recoiled. He was getting sick of being stomped on by every child that Corrine convinced to try the fight. His latest challenger appeared to be a giant hedgehog with a metallic sheen to each of its spikes. ¡°This is Sonic.¡± Corrine waved at the spiked menace. ¡°As in Sonic the Hedgehog?¡± he asked in confusion. She winked at him. ¡°The actual name¡¯s unpronounceable by human throats, so he let me come up with a nickname. Anyway, Sonic should be a fair challenge for you.¡± Tom perked up at that comment, but he was pretty sure he hadn¡¯t seen anything that looked quite as unique as Sonic: ¡°I don¡¯t recognise him from the list.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because he¡¯s not on it. He¡¯s from the bucket above you.¡± ¡°Is that wise?¡± Corrine¡¯s eyes went hard. ¡°Like I said, he¡¯ll be a reasonable challenge for you.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I prep?¡± ¡°Nope. You won¡¯t get a chance in the formal duels, so I won¡¯t give you one here, either.¡± The prompt for the duel appeared, and he accepted it. A moment later, he found himself in an arena. He and Sonic, who had been placed the usual twenty metres away and directly in front of him, were both standing on the river bed, ankle-deep water rushing past them. The force of the passing water tugged on his ankles, not enough to unbalance him, but he could sense that the current was going to be a factor in the coming fight. The countdown from eight started above him, and he spun his spear in his hands absent-mindedly, getting used to its weight. It was identical to the one he practised with in April¡¯s trial, and, while the quality was nothing to get excited about, it was perfect weight and length for him. The handful of seconds took a surprisingly long time to pass by, and he took the opportunity to study his opponent¡­ or, at least, to examine the illusion his opponent had created to deceive him, while the actual person snuck around to a new position to let it rush him from the side. While his facial features probably couldn¡¯t be read, he kept his face impassive. The hedgehog was the size of a small boar, but the fight, Tom knew, would be a lot more complicated than if he was fighting one of those. There was no way it was going to mindlessly charge him. He was, however, up against an illusionist, which, in hindsight, made it clear why had Corrine thought he had a chance. While watching the illusionary version of the enemy intensely, Tom used Spark to create a sensing area to track any stray magics or projectiles. The instant the countdown hit zero, Tom charged forward straight at the illusion, which was in the process of summoning a massive fireball. Acting like he thought the fire was a threat, he threw himself down into the water, which would hopefully be read as an attempt to use the natural feature of the battlefield to protect himself. The stream, that, when he was standing, had been tugging at his ankles and threatening to unbalance him, was a different monster when he dropped down perpendicular to the current. It snatched him up and washed him six metres downstream before he managed to stabilise and push himself to his feet. Although it wasn¡¯t planned, the trip enabled him to both monitor the true enemy and distance himself from the fireball.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. The ball of flames was cast by the illusion, and, rather than being directed at his new location, it struck where he had been standing, and then the illusionary stream billowed everywhere. His opponent¡¯s attention to detail was impressive. If he couldn¡¯t see through illusions, the thick steam would have completely killed his vision; as it was, it did nothing, and he wondered what was the best method to get the enemy to put itself within his limited range. As he considered options, it felt like a vice grabbed his brain. It was only there for a moment, but he recognised a similar sensation to the one he experienced when Dimitri had used his mental attacks The illusions flickered briefly. Internally, he cursed. That attack that had been intended to stun him had been reflected back. The passive strategy of allowing it to think it was sneaking up on him was no longer going to work. The change in status quo was proven a moment later, as, for the first time, it focused on him with the intent to kill and the time slowed as his trait activated. The dynamics of the battle had changed. The time dilation based on the sluggishness of his body meant that Sonic was only two times faster. That was better than the factor of six he had suffered against most opponents that Corrine had found for him to duel. That slight benefit brought only cold comfort, however. It was still too much for him to counter. Reluctantly, he turned to face where his non-illusion-piercing self would have spotted the opponent during the brief flicker. The illusions had returned, as strong as ever, and technically he shouldn¡¯t have been able to see the enemy; so, when it moved to flank him once more, he pretended its deception was effective. The creature closed to four meters, and then his Spark sensing triggered. At the speed of thought, he found the problem. A wall of spikes was shooting at him. The time dilation from his trait gave him a slightly longer time to plan, but it was still only a fraction of a relative second - such was the speed the spikes were moving at. Instincts ingrained in him by years of surviving in the wilds took over. Complicated calculations compared different dodging techniques. Was taking a spike in his stomach, leg, or arm for the best? What about three in one leg - was that better than a single spike hitting each leg? The considerations were moot. Battle instincts guided him. There was no actual time for a clinical risk assessment and response. He twisted, spun, and then fell. Pain exploded in his upper arm where a spike longer that his forearm had gone a hand-length into him. Bones had been cut during its entry. There were a variety of other gashes all over him, but they were flesh wounds, and Tom ignored them. He charged at the opponent, knowing that he needed to finish this before more spikes were brought into the equation. Two steps were all that was required to get him within range, and then his electricity crackled out to assault the hedgehog. As feared, a mana shield flared up to counter it. But he was still coming, and, as he took the next step, it reared up onto its hind legs to reveal four arms. Each of them was holding the equivalent of a shortened crow bar. They were thick solid metal, but barely half a metre long. There were two types: one that was like a thick short spear, while the other had the spike coming out perpendicular to the main bar, kind of like a war hammer. With its inherent speed advantage and the large wound to his shoulder, Tom knew a sustained fight was suicide. He needed to finish this quickly. His only play was to break the creature¡¯s shield, and then stun-lock with his lightning to allow him to stab it to death. He feinted a thrust at its chest. Surprisingly, three of the metal bars moved to block. His opponent was not martially gifted, though its multitasking was excellent as the fourth was flung at him. Options flashed through his mind, but he knew he was outclassed. He had to take the blow to progress. Rather than dodging or parrying he continued the strike but dipped his spear, aiming to graze the hedgehog¡¯s side. As his opponent was inexperienced, he took advantage of it; Tom trusted it to conclude that his new strike was only going to leave a scratch, and, because of that, to make the mistake and ignore the blow, never considering what other threats the contact could create. He influenced its decision-making by targeting the area that the bar had been thrown at. For it to block him, it was going to have to contort itself significantly, which would leave it unbalanced for the next set of strikes. It chose to let the blow land, and Power Strike, enhanced by precognition mana, instantly infused his weapon. The bar slammed into his hip first, but he didn¡¯t care - his spear was going to land. The nasty spike was, luckily, away from his flesh, but the throw was hard and the weapon heavy. He felt a bone crack, but if it didn¡¯t shatter, and he knew the adrenaline of the fight should stop his movement from being hampered. He had been hurt, but it was a good trade, as far as Tom was concerned. His spear jerked in his grip as it made contact, and not one, but two shields shattered under the blow. Euphoria flew through him. He would stun it and then kill it. His spell, designed to hit just after the spear, crackled into existence with perfect timing. A tertiary shield activated and caused the lightning to wash uselessly over his enemy. Tom cursed his own misfortune. What sort of paranoid person entered a fight with three emergency mana shields? One that was going to beat him, Tom acknowledged; but he didn¡¯t give up. All he had to do was land another hit. A second bar was flung at him. This one came at head-height, so he had to dodge; however, he transitioned that movement into a lunging attack from a low angle. A bar intercepted his darting weapon, deflecting it, but he was already twisting to bring his spear into a position to strike from a new angle. His skill far exceeded his opponent¡¯s. It didn¡¯t close their attribute difference, but it did even the fight out. Most of it was his superior foot work. Luckily, the win condition was not based on the physical part of the fight. He didn¡¯t need to wound it. All that was needed was a scratch to let him remove the shield. His spear struck like a snake three times in a row, and he was frustrated by the precise defence each time. The battle was running away from him, but every plan he considered felt like instant death. Sonic took the decision out of his hands as the multiple illusions of his opponent split off to confuse him. Tom made a tactical choice to follow a known illusion, hoping that it would cause overreach and create an opening for him to counterattack. Instead of following him, it dropped back onto its tummy and retreated. No, he screamed in his head when he realised the nature of his mistake. It was barely two and a half metres from him, but at that range the barrage would be almost impossible to dodge. He switched to an all-out evasion, and then sprinted forward and partially away from his opponent. Then he leapt the moment his electricity field registered the projectiles being launched. For a fraction of an instant, he didn¡¯t know if his attempt was enough; then, with the missiles a meter closer, he saw the bad news. He was already airborne, and the spikes were tracking him and, with him in the air, there were no further evasion techniques open to him. Suddenly he was no longer in his body, and he was looking down at water and watching the spikes pin-cushion him. They had possessed a homing component that had triggered mid-flight. There was never any chance of him escaping. The arena vanished, and he found himself back in front of the others. Chapter 87.2 – Short Term Planning Corrine gave him a sympathetic wince. Sonic was jumping up and down, obviously excited by the fight. ¡°You nearly beat me.¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t!¡± Tom snapped at it. ¡°How did you go through my shields so quickly? And that mind-stun reflect... It was beautiful. One more hit, and you would have had me.¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°You almost did.¡± Corrine patted him on his back. ¡°But I didn¡¯t.¡± Tom repeated stubbornly. The reflection of the mind attack, while theoretically powerful, had cost him. Without that hiccup, he could quite well have landed two quick Power Strikes while it was dealing with the surprise of him having seen through its illusions. ¡°I know,¡± Corrine said compassionately. ¡°In a year¡¯s time, this will change. But Sonic was almost the perfect match up for you. You¡¯re out of your depth currently, but the fact that you managed to get here speaks to your potential. Get the upgrades you¡¯re after, and you¡¯ll start winning.¡± Vturalta cleared her throat. ¡°If you¡¯ve done playing, we have more to cover.¡± They both flushed slightly at the disapproving tone, and then he continued the routine of being lectured. Six hours later, he got to enter the trial. Rather than being thrown straight into a training scenario he found himself sitting opposite April. The angel was smiling. ¡°You know,¡± he accused her instantly. ¡°Know what?¡± ¡°That I got in.¡± ¡°And that you¡¯ve discovered you¡¯re significantly weaker than everyone else.¡± ¡°Really? You get that much information?¡± She giggled. ¡°No, of course not. It communicates nothing to me, but I¡¯m not,¡± she waved at her body. ¡°Fifty years old or a thousand; I¡¯m much, much older, and over time I pick up things. The Divine Champions¡¯ trial is older than I am. I know how it works.¡± ¡°I thought that, if I reached general combat four, I¡¯d be competitive, but I¡¯m far from it.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t, but I also recognise that, in a year¡¯s time, you¡¯ll be twice as strong as you are now, and then you¡¯ll start winning consistently.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t take that long,¡± Tom told her without hesitation. She quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Ambitious.¡± ¡°Corrine and I ran simulations, and identified the fastest way for me to become competitive. I don¡¯t have to be able to win every fight. I can get smashed in most of them, but, if I hard counter even a quarter and sneak out victories against them, that will be enough. So, that¡¯s what I¡¯m going for. A lopsided build designed for a single purpose. For the real world it¡¯ll be horrid, but for here, it¡¯s great.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s your grand plan to elevate you to the lofty heights where three quarters of your opponents will easily defeat you?¡± ¡°Step one: I need to learn to use Power Strike separate from the spear I hold in my hands.¡± ¡°That¡¯s harder than you think. Your opponents will be able to avoid any thrown spears unless you stack other skills with it.¡± ¡°I was planning to transmit it to the target with Lightning Javelin.¡± She nodded: ¡°A creative approach. But do you have a plan to upgrade Power Strike to work with that spell?¡± ¡°I was just going to practice and extend it organically. If I spend fate on it, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll evolve it eventually. The first step is to get it to apply to thrown spears, then to magical construction.¡± ¡°That could work,¡± she agreed, and then tapped the table with a thoughtful look on her face. ¡°I take it you have full access to a version of the experience shop?¡± ¡°Um¡­ yes.¡± ¡°Have you checked out Power Strike derivatives?¡± ¡°No, I was going to talk to you first.¡± ¡°Then maybe you should use it before we have this discussion.¡± ¡°As in now?¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. She nodded. ¡°But how does the time dilation work?¡± She laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you can¡¯t cause a catastrophic error.¡± Curiously, he stepped sideways into his new system room. The first thing he noticed was that the entranceway to the communal areas were shut firmly, which explained the time dilation bit. He had access, but only in a restricted sense. Everything else looked like normal, including the screens. His body was still in the caf¨¦, April sitting across from him. She gave him a wave. Tom recoiled and she laughed in the monitor; a moment later she was standing next to him, leaning slightly against the metal wall near the doorway to the community areas. ¡°Tom, you¡¯re in my trial. This,¡± she waved at the monitors, then the walls. ¡°This is a part of my domain, though here...¡± She tapped the door next to her. ¡°Is a different trial, so you can¡¯t enter. But everything else is as normal.¡± She nodded her head at the writing that was his link to the experience shop. ¡°That, I can guarantee, still works.¡± He remembered why he was here and sheepishly faced the wall. ¡°Show Power Strike upgrades.¡± Instantly, tiny text filled the wall, as literally tens of thousands of entries were displayed. The problem was that there were just heaps of permutations that the ability could morph into. ¡°Show me those that are under tier-three.¡± He ordered to limit the display. The number of options shrunk. The writing was now legible, but there were still too many possibilities to wade through. ¡°Ones that can act through a physically manifesting spell.¡± Only three options remained. Tom nodded. This was on the right track, but the information it was displaying, the name of the skill and what it did, was not necessarily what he was after. He scratched his chin as he thought about the problem. ¡°For each of these, list the most common pre-requisites and merges needed to get the final result.¡± Surprisingly, the wall updated, showing that it was responsive to his complex command. What was displayed was a mess, and he was after ease of implementation, and he knew that there were thousands of ways to create abilities. ¡°Show me the paths that need the fewest steps.¡± April coughed. ¡°Do you think any of your existing abilities could be helpful?¡± Tom¡¯s head snapped around to stare at her. She looked perfectly innocent. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t remember.¡± She smiled. He recognised that look. It was her cheeky expression, the one she used when she had already pushed the rules as far as she could, and needed him to come to the conclusions himself. The question was, what she was hinting at? She has asked what other abilities could he use. His mind went to his precognition skills, but that couldn¡¯t be it. But then again, it didn¡¯t matter which one she referred to, only that one existed and he could find it. ¡°Show the paths that require the fewest new skills,¡± he clarified. The trees rearranged, simplifying themselves significantly. New skills glowed slightly to identify them, and he saw what April had been suggesting. One of the pathways used his Instant Strike skill as a base, but that wasn¡¯t the best option. The pathway for Lingering Power Strike was materially shorter. Then he frowned as he focused on the detail. It was simple in terms of steps, but it required the acquisition of a tier-two skill. His heart sank. Until he had coins, acquiring anything new over tier-one was effectively impossible. ¡°And new skills are limited to the tier-one range.¡± He ordered. Only that hierarchy changed, but it immediately became more complicated than the other two, and it meant none of them were simple. They all required at least three new skills. He wanted to scream. At the rate of three months per skill, that was a disaster. The wait for Lightning Javelin had felt excessive, but it looked like it was going to be shorter than the other part of his plan. It was possible this solution was so convoluted that he might need to take a different path. He could always use coins to buy a skill to address his weakness, but such shortcuts where titles were involved was going to reduce the effectiveness of his long-term build. ¡°Don¡¯t panic.¡± April told him. She pointed, and one specific line was highlighted. Tom focused on it and tried to work out what she was suggesting. It was a tier-two precursor to the tier-three solution and had inputs of Instant Strike, Magic Breaking Power Strike and Extended Spear Skill Execution. ¡°Tom, it¡¯s not that complicated.¡± She grumbled and clicked her fingers. It opened up into a description. Skill: Intangible Power Strike ¨C Tier 2 Allows non-physical aspects of Power Strike to be conveyed on a spear of the user to a distance of twenty-four metres. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I need,¡± he muttered in surprise. ¡°But what is it? I¡¯ve never heard of intangible skills.¡± ¡°There are intangible versions of all weapon skills,¡± April explained to him. ¡°They¡¯re useful for delivering debuffs, buffing allies, and amping up the power of remote strikes, which is what you want to do.¡± ¡°Rahmat could do something like this. But I thought it was just his domain.¡± She shrugged. ¡°If he had a domain, then it was most likely responsible, but it could have been these skills or their more advanced versions. The important thing is that will combine well with Lightning Javelin and break magic shielding like you¡¯re aiming for.¡± ¡°Can I buy Extended Spear Skill Execution and start learning it straight away?¡± She laughed. ¡°When you have the credits for it, I¡¯ll slot it into your training schedule. Is there anything else?¡± Just like last time when he thought about it, he felt the disk appear underneath his clothes. This was the touch of DEUS. He sensed that she was working within the rules, but only barely. The disk was not supposed to have been able to leave the Divine Champions¡¯ trial, not even for another trial space. But apparently April seeing this was important and only the fact he had created it personally and without anyone aiding him made it possible. He pulled it out and passed it to her: ¡°I need to create a tier-two version of this.¡± She didn¡¯t take it when he offered it, but she did examine it carefully. ¡°I see. But you do understand that the rules won¡¯t allow me to give you a design?¡± ¡°I know. But the stuff you were teaching me... If I learn enough, I can do it myself.¡± A big grin spread across her face. ¡°Don¡¯t you go and tease me about becoming a crafter.¡± She laughed. ¡°My lips are sealed. But¡­¡± ¡°April,¡± he warned. She once more looked innocent. ¡°What I was about to ask was whether this means you¡¯re going to listen to me now?¡± She was grinning. ¡°Well?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yes, what?¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll listen to you.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll refrain from complaining about how boring it is?¡± He threw his hands up in the air in mock exasperation. ¡°You were right, and I was wrong. Are you happy? And yes, I¡¯ll pay attention, and I won¡¯t complain.¡± ¡°Excellent. I¡¯m glad you admitted it. Now let¡¯s get to work.¡± Chapter 88.1 – First Duel He had woken up early in expectation of the coming official fight, and Throm spotted him. Now he sat in the meeting room, listening to his mentor expound on the finer points of sensing precognition rituals even as he multitasked and manipulated the lightning spell on his lap. Technically, the table hid his efforts from direct line-of-sight observation, but his instructor, of course, knew what he was doing. However, he was pretending not to notice. While learning the ritual was important, the centipede was wise enough to recognise that Tom advancing himself was also a priority; or, maybe, Throm thought the exercise was the only way Tom could keep himself awake. Critically, he examined the magic lines he had just created, and compared them to the pictures of the wire frame images he could see on the piece of paper lying on the table. It was a page from the lightning domain pack pinched from an isolation room. Corrine had used her internal spatial storage to bring it through to him, and, since he had access to it in the real world, he could use it here, unlike everyone else who only saw gibberish on the paper. She hadn¡¯t been sure it would work, but, luckily, it did. Tom¡¯s eyes narrowed as they flicked from his spell form to the wire frames. How had his version ended up with an entire extra foundational line? It made no sense. Then there was the question of how the fourth-dimensional component warped the three spatial vectors. The spell was proving far harder to master than he had expected it to be. It was almost as much of a mystery as the lecture he was listening to. It was possible he may have tuned out for a critical piece of current topic, because what he was hearing no longer made any sense. ¡°Great. There¡¯s no harm in interrupting, because he¡¯s not paying attention.¡± Amkhael¡¯s voice from the right behind him made Tom jump. He hadn¡¯t heard the rock enter, and had thought they were alone. ¡°Be kinder with your words, Amkhael - the child is doing well,¡± Throm chastised gently. ¡°This subject matter is hardly the most enthralling one, and, if multitasking it keeps him awake, I¡¯m all for that.¡± ¡°I still need him. There¡¯s only an hour to the first fight, and he needs to do the last step of the induction.¡± ¡°The child has done enough duels.¡± ¡°It¡¯s tradition, and the other two haven¡¯t.¡± Throm did his equivalent of nodding, which was the mouth making a funny shape. ¡°I guess this is as good as a spot as any to stop. Tom, before our next session, I want you to create a new disk and incorporate the lessons you¡¯ve learned.¡± He gulped at the order. It was easier said than done. The workmanship and success of his current version had been driven by fate. ¡°You don¡¯t need to use special resources.¡± Throm said mildly. ¡°I¡¯m not blind to your racial trait, and I prefer for you not to use it.¡± ¡°What racial trait?¡± Amkhael asked suspiciously. ¡°Is this the one that lets humans overperform their prowess?¡± Tom ignored him. In the pecking order, Amkhael was low, which was why he had been drafted to induct them. ¡°That might mean it ends up unusable.¡± He told Throm. ¡°Until they¡¯re tier-two, none are usable. To my mind, it¡¯s best not to use consumables in testing. For now, you should be investing them into more important things.¡± He nodded, and then followed Amkhael leaving the meeting room. But he had to admit that Throm¡¯s observation worried him. Corrine hadn¡¯t told anyone about that human trait, and nor, as far as she was aware, had any of her predecessors. But he guessed someone as old and wise as Throm was more than capable of unravelling the secret through observation. He shook his head to clear it. Whether he knew or not, that did not matter - these were all DEUS¡¯s children; they were on the same side, and, even if they wanted to betray him, they lived so far away that humans were safe. Besides, of course, there was a GEAS supported by the GODs protecting them.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Whatever the other DEUS representatives guessed, learned, or were told, it would have no impact on humanity. In short order, he was in the common area, and it was the most crowded he had ever seen it. There must have been almost eighty people gathered. ¡°Do we have to be here at the exact time for every fight?¡± Tom asked curiously. ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Baptiste told him, his vines twirling together as he played with some purple light that, from his public information file, had to be arcane energy. After all, magic-wise, the pot plant only possessed nature and arcane energy, and that artificial light was not one of nature. ¡°Time distortions magics are in place to make sure everything works.¡± ¡°But being here is better.¡± Corrine informed him. ¡°If we¡¯re all here, it¡¯s safer if something goes wrong.¡± ¡°Can I have your attention, please?¡± Amkhael shouted suddenly. ¡°We have three new inductees.¡± He then proceeded to introduce them similarly to how the presenter had done so. ¡°As per tradition, they will duel amongst themselves, then challenge the volunteers until they reach ten victories or two losses.¡± A prompt came through, and, a moment later, Tom found himself facing Baptiste in a volcanic-themed area. It was sweltering-hot, there was scorched stone under his feet; only twenty metres away, a thin stream of lava flowed down the side of their contained arena. As far as battlegrounds went, this one was greatly in his favour, not that it mattered without fate being in play. He knew he was a dead man. While Baptiste¡¯s plant magic had been neutered by the environment, he had many other skills that Tom did not have. That included a magic shield that would be a hard counter to his lightning and deadly melee abilities, which, with his attribute advantage, meant Tom would get trounced if he got too near. Finally, there was an arcane based shrink collar that would encircle a limb or neck and then squeeze until it split the body part in two. If that couldn¡¯t kill him, the eventual close-in fighting would. The countdown ended. Time immediately slowed down for Tom. It was a two- and a-bit distortion, just like he expected it to be. The fight was coming to him, and he had to move. Stillness meant death. This wasn¡¯t the kind of setting that would allow him to plan, so he charged forward. Something settled on his neck. Abruptly, he was out of the arena, looking down. The collar tightened, and Tom looked away before his avatar fell into two pieces. Shortly thereafter, he was back in the common area. ¡°Sorry,¡± Baptiste said immediately. ¡°I was trained to go for the kill as fast as possible.¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s the only way.¡± he agreed. The result had been as expected, but it was still a disappointment. He had been secretly hoping he would be able to make himself competitive somehow. A moment later, Baptiste and Gruh Mul disappeared to fight. All the audience was linked to the spectacle and Tom found himself looking down on the fight as though he was in an arena¡¯s stands. They started the usual distance apart on what looked like the floor of a rainforest, through there were no tree trunks visible - only the shade of a canopy that must have been a kilometre above them. Instead, there was a scattering of vegetation, ferns and fungus, but nothing robust enough to restrict the contestant¡¯s movements. The moment the countdown hit, zero Gruh Mul threw himself into battle. His magic nullified the collar that tried to form on his neck. Plants swarmed from everywhere to try and limit his mobility. They were mostly preexisting ones, but some, he noticed, were newly grown. They burst up from the ground or whipped across from outside to tangle up the big person¡¯s feet, but then were torn apart under the power of each step. The fight descended into a furious melee, the two combatants moving so fast they were a blur of movement to his senses. Fifteen seconds after it started, Gruh Mul leapt backwards and roared at the sky in triumph. Baptiste had been torn apart and entirely separated from his roots. The two of them reappeared a moment later, completely healed. ¡°That was terribly done,¡± Amkhael snapped while staring up at Gruh Mul. ¡°What have I said about closing?¡± ¡°Not to do it,¡± the big person answered sulkily. ¡°Not to, unless your ranged options fail!¡± Amkhael corrected. ¡°Or if the opponent¡¯s ranged offence is too strong for your defences. Did either of those occur?¡± ¡°No, they didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Do better.¡± Amkhael ordered. A prompt appeared, and Tom accepted the duel. Chapter 88.2 – First Duel He was in a wooden area with lots of trees larger than he was. This, unlike the previous environment, was crowded with significant obstacles. It was a biome that suited him against the bigger opponent. The only issue was that it was clear between him and his enemy, and the nearest tree was over five metres away. But, if he could duck out and get behind the cover, then he had a chance. The countdown finished, he went to charge, but, in a very familiar way, he found himself observing the arena from above. Below him, his body fell into multiple pieces. ¡°Very good,¡± Amkhael praised Gruh Mul immediately upon them reappearing in the common area. ¡°If you had closed with Tom, you might have lost. Attacking from afar guaranteed his loss.¡± ¡°Never; he is too slow, and I can easily beat him in a straight fight.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Amkhael said. ¡°But he has tricks if you get too close to him and it would have been embarrassing to have lost in such a fashion.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have lost.¡± ¡°It would only take a single mistake for you to do so. One tap of his spear.¡± ¡°By the time he achieved that, I would¡¯ve carved him in two.¡± ¡°Which is something he might survive, and then you¡¯ll be stunned while he kills you. Before Gruh Mul could respond, he vanished once more, and a new duel started between him and a type of slime. Gruh Mul was enveloped and defeated. Unsurprisingly, neither of the other two reached the ten victories¡¯ conditions. Excluding the easy kill of Tom, Baptiste managed only one further win before dying again, and Gruh Mul only got three others in before he, too, was taken out. For fresh inductees, it was a great outcome, even with Tom¡¯s complete failure factored into the numbers. Corrine, Baptiste, and him chatted - then, before he knew it, he was drawn into a festive atmosphere as they counted down until the first official duel. The prompt for the official duel appeared, and Tom accepted instantly. Just like he had been told, rather than going straight to the arena he found himself in the holding room. There were three doors for him to leave through, with each having both words and pictures to signify the GOD¡¯s shield arrangement they were to grant. He knew which one he was taking, but, just in case, he pulled out his disk. He spent ten fate to prime the heavens, and then flipped it. The wood spun awkwardly through the air; it smacked against the ground, bounced, rolled, and came to a clattering stop in the corner of the room. Tom went over to look down at it and saw the zero facing up. There was no need to continue any further. The probabilities had spoken. To go shieldless, he required a minimum of seven ones in a row. A single zero, like what had just happened, meant that he was going with the full shield. With a sigh, he walked through the most elaborate door. Then he accepted three prompts confirming he understood that he was accepting a full GOD¡¯s shield for the fight, and his rewards would be reduced accordingly. With the formalities done, a prompt appeared. You are fighting a representative of SUPREME. It has one recorded incapacitation and zero kills. Tom nodded as he read the details. He was dead. If whoever this was had gotten an incapacitation awarded through their own efforts, then he was massively outclassed. But there was no avoiding it, so he kept walking, and the portal flared and placed him in a new location. It was desert-themed, and he was standing mid-way down a sand dune. They were going to be fighting across the slope. Going left would take him down the dune, while the right could give him the height advantage ¨C if the adversary did nothing, which was unlikely. As always, there was an outer edge. In this case it was a dome that encased around a football field worth of volume that started near the base of the dune and stretched most of the distance to the top. There was little other information to be gathered, as his opponent was hidden by the system magic and had been replaced by a patch of light to signify where they were standing. Tom watched the countdown, preparing to act the moment it triggered. It displayed zero, and he sprinted to the right to seize the high ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his opponent. It was a squat, ugly thing with soft short fur that highlighted its many legs and compressed body structure. It was crab-like, even with its mammalian aspects. There was a boom behind him, and he felt stinging pain from fast moving sand followed by a heavy blast of air that almost made him lose his balance. That explosion had definitely originated from where he had been standing a moment earlier. Time slowed dramatically as the enemy focused on him. It was only a three times dilation, so relatively speaking, this opponent was weak - at least, physically so. But, as it relied on ranged attacks, it was unlikely Tom could win this. How fast would it be able to recast? He thought, and then realised that it didn¡¯t really matter. The most likely answer was faster than he would like. He zig-zagged back. Still angling toward the crab thing, but now running down instead of up. An explosion nipped his heals. It unbalanced him and forced him to do a forward roll. For a moment, he lost control of his descent, and sand sprayed everywhere in front of him. In seconds, he had slid downwards over eight metres. He rose to his feet, and now because of how far he had slid he was looking up at his enemy. It hadn¡¯t moved, and¡­ Tom was suddenly back in the common area, along with everyone else. At least two people were missing and there were multiple injuries. Throm had lost over a dozen arms, but Tom¡¯s eyes fell upon one of the aquatic people in his own pool. The person, a battle seal with sharp armoured blades covering its flippers, was alive, but looked like it had been cut into pieces. There was a parallelogram with a trident through it carved across its forehead.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He stepped forward to try to heal it, but Corrine¡¯s arms wrapped around him and stopped him in his tracks. ¡°You can¡¯t help. You can¡¯t heal others. It¡¯s a restriction.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s dying.¡± Tom protested. It was true - everyone present could see that the wounds, which had been stabilised when it had first appeared, were starting to deteriorate and open up due to its slight movements. Corrine¡¯s arm tightened around him. ¡°Watch and absorb. That¡¯s what a partial God¡¯s shield does when the opponent succeeds in murdering you.¡± One of the bigger gashes was definitely coming apart, and Tom could imagine a third of its body literally peeling away and falling. That was going to happen immediately if it moved too much, but even it stayed still, such an outcome might only be a minute away. While he wouldn¡¯t die from injuries like this, Tom understood, it was the wounds he couldn¡¯t see that were the problem. ¡°Help. Help.¡± The bird that had been closest to the injured person had been squawking the entire time, and, finally, there was a reaction. Abruptly, the ground itself changed as the stone transitioned into water and another aquatic person - this one shaped more like a sea horse than a seal - swam over. She held a vial filled with a glowing liquid that she brought close to the injured battle seal. There was a flash of light, and, as though that was a permission, she poured the vial onto the largest wound. Most of the liquid went straight into the body, entering via the massive opening in its chest. The wounds healed visibly, and, in moments, the wide-open gashes had been reduced to barely visible scars. ¡°That was a recovery potion,¡± Corrine told him. ¡°The light was an emergency healing transaction. The elixir costs ten coins if you buy it directly from the shop, but in this kind of desperate situation the system takes its pound of flesh. That just then cost the seal nineteen coins. Eight of them being taken by the system, and a single coin profit for the person who brought it over. It¡¯s a waste, but it¡¯s better than someone dying, and the fact the emergency transaction went through means that the injured person would have died otherwise.¡± She sighed and then looked at him. ¡°I take it you lost?¡± Tom nodded. ¡°Yeah, me too. I tripped at the wrong time, or else I might have had it.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too.¡± Tom agreed. She glanced up in surprise. ¡°I meant the trip part. There was no way I was ever going to win.¡± She laughed, and then pointed at one of the terminals. Remember to fill in everything you learned. He did so. He found the person to attach the record too. Then he added his estimate of their speed and a description of the explosive attack they had used, and that it had been chained three times in a row. The entries from everyone else were far more comprehensive. It had an annoying magic-assisted leap ability that let it escape to the other side of the battlefield whenever anyone got too close. It seemed to be unlimited in terms of the number of times this could be used. That evasion ability was coupled with impressive magical defences, and it could sustain its attacks for minutes. The explosions seemed to be both its go-to and least efficient form of magic, but it had a lot of force variance attacks that seemed to be able to wear down most people. He doubted his own observations would ever help anyone get a win, but they were worth putting in, just in case. Another two days passed as he ramped up his practice without any tangible advances, and, after a brutal hour of theory, he returned to his body. The usual rush of memories assaulted him, but this time they caught his attention fully. It was like he was experiencing the memories fresh. The word ¡®Trials¡¯ was scribbled in large bold letters on the blackboard. Dimitri was standing up the front and addressing them. He explained the eight types of trials quickly and efficiently. They were Coliseum, Battle, Boosting, Challenge, Affinity, Special, Quest and Bottomless. The different categories were not new knowledge to him, as the tutorial books covered it. Colosseum and Battle was a fight for random rewards. Boosting was used to enhance the levels of a single skill or spell that you already possessed. The Challenge ones enabled you improve an area of expertise. In his first life in Existentia, he had greatly boosted his earth magic due to outstanding success in a Challenge trial. While Challenge trials could help anyone improve a chosen aspect of their build, the value of an Affinity trial was dependent on its nature. Like the crystal he had consumed, it was capable of boosting an affinity by a significant amount. It was on par with the divine fruit, but just for a single affinity as opposed to all of them. No one would turn down the option to use such a trial, if it was for one of their primary affinities. Tom understood their value, and, if he heard of a precognition trial fifty years¡¯ journey away from him, he would make the trip without hesitation, no matter the danger levels - that was how valuable they were. A two-point increase in his precognition was going to catapult him to be on a trajectory to be a realm wide powerhouse. If it was on top of the fruit, that impact would be even higher, but it was all theoretical, as there were no rumours about anything like that existing. The final three categories were: Bottomless, which was what Throm used to get his power, and Quest trials, which created an elaborate world for people to solve before receiving rewards tailored to them, while Special covered everything else. ¡°As I was saying,¡± Dimitri continued. ¡°The frequency of trials is based on that order. Within our town¡¯s influence, there are twenty Colosseum trials, with only one being against sapients, eleven Battle ones, four Boosting, and one Challenge. We don¡¯t have any Bottomless or Quest ones in all of the human territory. That scarcity does not just apply to us. For example, there are no known Bottomless trials in any of the nearby countries. That doesn¡¯t apply to just the nation clusters - that¡¯s any country we¡¯ve had contact with or their neighbours. As for Quest, they aren¡¯t quite so rare, and there are a few in the closest nation cluster. Special trials are different. We have two in our small town.¡± There was a murmur of conversation at that. ¡°The first is the one you enter weekly. It¡¯s designed as a training benefit for us, and is linked to the competition. The second is one of the darkhole trials.¡± Dimitri paused, looking sad. ¡°These, as far as we can determine follow all species, and plague their top four population centres. They are deadly and most civilisations use them to execute criminals, because they extract a blood price on every sapient species. While they can be challenged at any time, if insufficient people do so over the four Existentia years it remains dormant, then it activates.¡± The big man stopped for a moment to take a drink of water. ¡°Do they come alive?¡± Dimitri only shrugged in response to the question from his audience of little people. ¡°I don¡¯t know the details. But I do know that darkhole trials terrify me. When they activate, they wander. They leave their secured location and find people who are bored, or down on their luck, or depressed or have a weakness. They find that type of person and then offer them something they desire to trick them into entering the trial. But don¡¯t listen to it!¡± Dimitri yelled. ¡°It¡¯ll promise you what you want to hear, but do not heed its lying honeyed words. The thing¡¯s a trap, it¡¯s evil, and it¡¯ll lie to get your attention. Thankfully, it doesn¡¯t target children, but when you¡¯re older, remember this, and if it wanders near you, ignore it. It¡¯s enough of a menace that we¡¯re thinking of stopping it from waking.¡± ¡°How would you keep it asleep?¡± the same talkative boy questioned innocently. Dimitri hesitated. For a moment, he appeared to be lost for words. He scratched his ear ruefully: ¡°Let¡¯s just say that¡¯s an adult thing and not talk about it.¡± Chapter 89.1 – Competition Progress Tom glanced around the isolation room. He had an hour to kill now before his next lecture. Mostly, the sessions he got into with the two open competitors depended on their real-world responsibilities. Unless it specifically clashed with his dodge or obstacle course training, Tom made it to every open slot he had been offered. His eyes fell on the smallest war hammer intended for ten-year-olds, resting in its usual place. That was what he was here to do, but his thoughtful mood made him drag his feet. Soon, he decided, but not yet. He knew his drive was not going to let him procrastinate for more than a few minutes, but self-reflection was important, and a lot had happened in the last two weeks since he had won the spot in the Divine Champions¡¯ trial. Life had been a whirlwind of frenetic activity with barely any time to breathe, and his sleep had been compromised badly. It was so oppressive that he had almost drifted off during a lecture. ¡°Get more sleep,¡± he told himself furiously. Between his nightly tempering, lair fighting, and squeezing in extra study sessions, he had been reduced to the point of only receiving an average of six hours per night. It was nowhere near enough for this body. ¡°I¡¯ll slow down and look after myself,¡± he told the empty room. Mentally, he made the correction to his outlook. Going forward, he would enforce sleep time and, if he failed, he was going to skip the nightly sessions until the issue was corrected. Tom did not like the decision he had come to, but he was going to stick to it, because he didn¡¯t want to risk his efficiency dropping. To be at his best, he knew he had to get sufficient sleep. Especially in this body. Two weeks, and four embarrassing losses in official battles. It was what logic had told him was likely, but his pride still stung a little. Corrine¡¯s lessons on the risks of partial shields had been borne out, as he couldn¡¯t remember anything from his encounter with the FAMES representative, an enemy that had six prior incapacitations to its name. It had been his second fight, and, for days after, he would catch himself wondering what had been done to him. What had been so horrific that it had forced the GOD¡¯s shield to completely suppress the memories of the entire experience? Tom couldn¡¯t even remember what it had looked like and he could only imagine what would have happened if he had gone in without a shield. It really highlighted how dangerous these encounters were. With the help of all the practice, he had forced himself to stop thinking about it. The others he had fought had been far more accommodating, and he had even been offered the chance to surrender by a giant four-armed ape-like creature. Given that it had three incapacitations and three kills, it clearly did not fight with a GOD¡¯s shield. That had been an example of their gentlemen¡¯s agreement in action. The WADOR fighter had extended him the deal, as per the unofficial rules. Tom, with his full GOD¡¯s shield, could have fought, but he recognised it was pointless. That particular opponent had been way too strong. He had taken the offer and conceded the match. Then there was the crafting. He was devoting everything he could to it, but it was not going stellar.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. At the end of the first week, Throm and Vturalta had decided he had sufficient basic knowledge to push hard into practical exercises. Those tests had been a debacle. A six-year-old, even one with an adult mind, did not have the same capacity as the masters with hundreds or thousands of years of experience like they were used to teaching. April had almost fallen off the stool laughing when he had whinged at her. Her response had been simple: ¡°They¡¯re just not Tomifying the information enough.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a word.¡± She had laughed. ¡°No, it¡¯s a depressing concept. The bane of my existence.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not that bad.¡± ¡°That¡¯s debatable, Tom. Listen, I think I can help.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes; can you promise to pass on a message for me?¡± Tom had considered that for a moment. He had known that it was going to backfire somehow, but, if whatever message she sent cut a week off his training time, it was worth it. April had smirked. ¡°I want you to tell Throm something for me. ¡®Imagine Tom as a wormling that swims down and teach him accordingly.¡¯ Those exact words, Tom. Tell him those. It will help.¡± When he had passed on the message to Throm, the centipede¡¯s reaction had literally broken what, until that point, he had considered to be an unbreakable floor. The massive creature had shattered all the stone under every one of his legs as a result of vibrating so quickly. Then he had been unable to form words for almost a minute afterward. Tom couldn¡¯t comprehend the humour, but he was damn sure he was the one being laughed at. ¡°Is it really that funny?¡± he asked. ¡°Wormling swims down.¡± Throm had chortled in response, and the already-broken stone was ground into a finer dust. After that Tom had tried to keep to a strategy of not reminding anyone. They had thankfully taken the message seriously, and the way they were training him had shifted again in response. Instead of giving Tom practical exercises, Throm decided he would get him to build the ritual he needed out of wire. Only once it was correct was he going to take the next steps to minimise it and engrave it within a wooden disk. The sessions went from lectures to him creating different sections under their watchful eyes. The flood of information didn¡¯t stop - it just came in an alternative form. They would notice something minor, like what degree of bend was best, and then interrogate him about whether he was certain that he was making the right decision. Pro tip, he was never in the right; then, having established the problem, they would willingly spend an hour debating the risks and benefits of his method against the alternatives. Tom would work while the argument occurred, and only switch his hands to building something that was less controversial for a while. Then, worn out, he would change the amount of bend slightly, so it was one and a half degrees less than what it had been like, the lecture had concluded, was the optimal amount. Tom hoped the revisions were working, but he was unable to estimate how long the entire effort was going to take. The current construction might turn out to be the template he needed - or they might tell him to start again from scratch. He just didn¡¯t know. The whole thing sucked. ¡°But the fruit,¡± he reminded himself out loud, ¡°And the rest of the power.¡± He remembered the other items on the curated list, and the additional goodies that might appear once he worked through them. All the current ones were great. They were all things that he wanted - starting with the spatial storage, a trait which was going to open up lots of interesting options in the real world. For example, he would be able to carry poisons and weapons around with him, which would be amazing. As for the ones in the future, he expected them to be just as good. Hopefully, there would even be discounted tier-five and -six items to really kickstart his title acquisitions. ¡°And a grand total of zero wins,¡± he said wryly. As much as it hurt him to admit it, his combat strength wasn¡¯t going to get him what he wanted. Once more, he glanced around the room, then decided he had delayed enough. Almost two minutes of training time had been wasted due to his procrastination. His eyes slid to the war hammer and then, because he wasn¡¯t ready for that yet, they went to the small folder of information on the current state of the world. A couple of minutes refreshing his knowledge of what was happening in the rest of Existentia couldn¡¯t hurt. Chapter 89.2 – Competition Progress He immediately flipped to the ranking section. A huge smile broke out upon his face. Finally, somebody had done something. It was only a jump of three million, but that was ten percent of the gap to third place, so it was not nothing. He smiled as he re-read the disclaimer that the cause was unknown, and he wondered why that was the case. Why was it unknown? He asked himself. Was it because someone was hiding it deliberately? That didn¡¯t seem right, though. Perhaps, the explanation was more mundane. Could it be a team of adventurers, ones operating months or years of travel away from human-controlled land, who had done something impressive, but distance meant they couldn¡¯t brag to anyone about it? Or, possibly, it was a lone tinkerer who had set about to do a project like the failed crystal slimes, but it had gained traction and succeeded. It was unknown, because, instead of being a collective effort of experts drawn from multiple towns, it was just one person pottering around and doing their thing. If Tom could choose the outcome, he hoped it was a team of adventurers. If there was a group out there capable of making a couple of million experience per month, it was possible they would be able to beat the Wador and Giants. Then, if whatever crazy stuff the inventors were doing slowed down, they could snatch the third place. It was a dream, but him being here meant that he had to be a part of the solution. After all, that was why he had been reincarnated in the first place.
  1. Dragons: Current Rank 1 with accumulated points of 328 million and year on year accumulation of 11 million. Additional notes: Peaked at 433 million.
  2. Insects: Current Rank 2 with accumulated points of 315 million and year on year accumulation of 8 million. Additional notes: Peaked at 420 million.
  3. Inventors: Current Rank 3 with accumulated points of 292 million and year on year accumulation of ? million.
  4. Giants: Current Rank 4 with accumulated points of 285 million and year on year accumulation of 4 million. Additional notes: Benefited from an unexplained 20 and 30 million jump in earth years 28 and 34.
  5. Wador: Current Rank 5 with accumulated points of 282 million and year on year accumulation of 4 million.
  6. Humans: Current Rank65 with accumulated points of 271 million and year on year accumulation of 3 million. Additional notes: One off gain of 100 million from GOD¡¯s action. Unexplained 3 million boost this week.
  7. Chosen: Current Rank 7 with accumulated points of 43 million and year on year accumulation of < 1 million.
Tom read the next page and frowned. There was no more good news. Instead, there were a series of dot points covering points of interest. The monitors of the crystal slimes had reported that equilibrium had been reached, and they had done tests, but didn¡¯t think they could destabilize the new normal. Chiura Okimi, a powerhouse, had died, having disappeared from spot four on the ladder. An environmental engineering project that had been worked on for ten years was declared a write-off as a result of a shift in the Underground. There were over ten more points along similar lines. It was depressing. Annoyed and frustrated, he grabbed the hammer. Hard physical work was what he needed to ground himself. A long session, Tom figured, with an oversized and too-heavy practice war hammer was just what the doctor ordered. The physical stress of the hammer forms interspaced with Quick Step should distract himself from thinking about the annoying things he had just read. It rankled to be practicing with the hammer, because it was not part of his core build. Ideally, he would be training spear forms, but April hadn¡¯t given him anything to pursue and had refused to teach any advanced katas to let him try to progress Spear Mastery independently. She claimed it was because she didn¡¯t want him starting anything before Extended Spear Skill Execution became available in his next session. Privately, Tom suspected, it was because she knew that him focusing on the hammer abilities was important for his cover, and wanted to force him to develop appropriately in that direction.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. He didn¡¯t care. Right now, he was training for the burn. Forcing his body to swing the heavy weapon through his forms was cathartic. His arms were arching, and it was made worse because he deliberately broke the choreographed movements to throw in Quick Steps at random points, just the way he would when using the eventual skill in battle. There was no magic in the forced rapid footwork. There was no sense of a skill hovering just out of reach. For now, it was a physical motion that, by its nature, disrupting the individual forms which were designed to flow from one to another. However, Tom didn¡¯t allow himself to cheat. He remembered the process he had gone through to acquire both Power and Instant Strike. They had required mind numbing monotony before the skill had begun to form, so he was going to do the same for these. He persisted. It was a simple routine, ten minutes¡¯ worth of hard work, then a minute break to use the healing crystal, because he wasn¡¯t wasting his mana on self-healing. What little mana he had went into his experimental lightning spells. It responded to his need and purged the lactic acid buildup and treated the micro and not so micro muscle tears. It was amazing how refreshed he felt the moment the healing stopped. Pain and tiredness that had been slowing him down without him realising it suddenly vanished, and he was back to being able to throw in a hundred percent effort. While Quick Step continued to feel artificial and anything but magical, the same couldn¡¯t be said for his hammer movements. He could feel the resonance as he went through the forms. It was still a long way from ticking over to a complete skill. However, when he swung the weapon down, there was an impression of weight in his swing, and then the hammer felt lighter when he spun it back up. The hour finished, and, even though he had another hour in the isolation room, he dutifully went to attend his lecture. Blue grass greeted him, and, the instant he appeared, he spotted Vturalta waiting for him in the common area. She was resting happily in her little pool of water, about half of her in and the rest out. Without fuss, he joined her and sat down across from her. Immediately, his current project appeared in front of him on the table. It was a mass of wire - some of it had been bent into complicated geometric shapes; other bits felt orderly, but also wild at the same time. Tom smiled and took up at where he had left off. Compared to what April had made him memorise, this was probably four times as intricate. Just in the bottom section, he had to double the number of tracks, and, instead of straight lines linking the next level, he had to slow the energy down by adding regular spirals. ¡°What do you think about thickness?¡± Vturalta asked suddenly. Tom froze his mind rushing to understand why she had asked that particular question. ¡°In the spirals?¡± ¡°Energy conduits,¡± Vturalta corrected him. ¡°But yes. Is the wire thickness there important?¡± ¡°Yes¡­ um¡­ um¡­ No,¡± he amended himself hurriedly at her look. ¡°Maybe.¡± Her tentacles splashed in the water. When Throm had told her the wormling joke, she had almost emptied her pool. Right now, it was just a couple of splashes, which were closer to an indulgent chuckle than anything: ¡°Well, which is it? A yes, or a no, or a maybe?¡± Tom considered the fundamentals and the purpose of the base of the ritual. It was kind of like a battery, but more complicated, because there was a two-way exchange. Power could flow up from the base, then back again with an information overlay added. The question was not about the current coming back, but about the flow. ¡°I think it depends on what it¡¯s feeding the energy into.¡± ¡°Very good,¡± she said with a grin. ¡°Who said you would swim down?¡± She splashed. Tom felt his face harden. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you defending me.¡± More water went flying. ¡°Who am I to argue with the assessment of an ancient trial administrator? Especially one of a Special trial. And stop pretending to be grumpy,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t prove April right.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± he retorted not knowing if she was making that comment up or not. She had attempted to trick him on these sorts of silly issues before. This time, she splashed him deliberately, and it must have been magic controlled because it felt like it drenched him as thoroughly as jumping in a pool would have done. He spluttered in shock and discretely checked around him. No water had touched the ground - it had all gone on him. ¡°What was that for?¡± ¡°As your mentor, I must have your absolute respect.¡± Her tentacles were writhing in the pool, sending little waves sloshing everywhere. ¡°Translation - you thought it would be funny.¡± ¡°And I was right!¡± The water vanished before it could distract him further. He kept creating the wire spirals, but, as he approached the sensing section of the ritual, he changed to a slightly thinner wire. At this rate, it was going to take him over a month to create the first version, and then who knows how many more were going to be required if they kept finding issues after that. Vturalta had already told him to redo a part after he had finished it. And it was for an error that an earlier warning could have completely prevented. They had noticed the flaw and allowed him to waste days building over the top of it before making him revert it all and start from scratch. Tom understood the value of the lesson. You measure three times before cutting; it just sucked to have to suffer through it. An hour and a half later, she released him, since she was needed back in her own world. He returned to his system room to discover that the three had already started running the obstacle course. He waited until his body crashed to the ground, and then stepped into it. Everything hurt, but he stood up and, as was his custom, ignored the lure of the healing crystal and prepared to go again. Chapter 90.1 – Repairing Weapons Tom watched the other two progress through the obstacles. There were moments of grace and periods of ineptitude both. The severe contrast between those moments was eye-catching. Briana¡¯s performance was a this way due to her being a child, while Kang¡¯s was driven by his maniacal training. The other reincarnator had, as always, imposed handicaps on himself to challenge and develop his coordination. Tom was very aware of the other boy¡¯s Quick Step skill. It was a huge advantage ¨C but, instead, of exploiting it, Kang was clearly attempting to obtain a secondary mobility technique. He was training one of Leap or Jump. This choice surprised Tom a little, but he guessed that, if Kang was going after a magical evasion tanking class, one could see how the ability to shift position vertically and in uneven territory could be considered vital. Every chance Kang got, he was placing both feet flat on the ground and then springing forward as far as he could, completing standing jump after standing jump, and abusing fate the entire time at that. It was only a single point, but the boy¡¯s pool was draining rapidly. For a moment, Tom considered the unspoken requirements of such a skill. He guessed these requirements would be something about producing a series of perfect jumps. A requirement might have been to demonstrate an ability with jumping off two planted feet with multiple trajectories, such as vertical, horizontal, or leaping across to higher or lower platforms. Then there was probably similar expertise required when running, and off each individual foot. Just like with Spear Mastery, there was probably a hidden list of a hundred of so different types of jumps, and he would have to get sixty percent perfect in order to to trigger the ability. That was for the standard method. For the Earned Equivalent, Tom imagined it had a similar requirement, but with the amendment ¡®and the perfect attempt also saved your life¡¯. ¡°Tom, are you going again?¡± Briana yelled out happily from where she stood, watching the swinging arms and waiting for the perfect moment to dash through them. Tom startled slightly at the question, and realised he had spent too long admiring their efforts. He allowed his actions to speak louder than his words. Without responding verbally, he used his ring to handicap himself, then sprinted forward. From experimentation, he knew that the first cliff worked best if you hit it at pace. He leapt, slammed into it, and almost had his breath knocked out of him, but he had gotten the height he needed and he scrambled up successfully. With the level he had set his handicaps at, his experience in previous lives meant nothing. By design, he successfully completed each run less than twenty percent of the time. That was so even with him challenging significantly easier courses than the other two, but the training and having his body react through adversity was excellent. The gravity was dialled up high enough that it impacted his walking speed, and it totally screwed with his ability to jump any significant distances. At its current level, he was physically unable to complete the next highest course, but the one he was doing was more about balance and agility than power, so he got away with the ridiculous restriction. The agility requirement, however, made the electricity running through him problematic - which was just how he liked it. Because of that, he built in a large margin of error in everything he did. Where he could, he kept both hands on an obstacle as often as possible. It was a continual trial of adjustments, shifting both his grip and body positioning constantly to mitigate the impact of regular muscle spasms. Finally, Dampen Senses made even simple timing obstacles, the type Briana struggled with, but ones that his adult brain should have found easy, difficult to complete. Not being able to see past about five metres meant the motion of the later part of the puzzle was unknown, and thus couldn¡¯t be adjusted for. Every single run was a trial. There were enchantments built into the system that changed the patterns regularly, so there was no way to memorise it once and fake your way through afterwards. Danger Sense grumbled, but he ignored the warning. Being able to adjust to mistakes was important. He dashed forward, having spotted a guaranteed gap for at least the first few metres. Then the rest of the pattern revealed itself, and he knew he was in trouble. After the warning Danger Sense had given him, he wasn¡¯t surprised. Tom stopped, attempted to step back, but instead jerked as his quad muscle locked up. Anyone watching would have seen a child miss the timing of a movement and then get paralysed through indecision. The padded beam smacked into his ribs and sent him flying.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Without hesitation, he spent one fate point with the image of strengthening humanity. Then he found himself bouncing off obstacles on the way to the ground. His body twisted and spun, and he used his acrobatic knowledge to reduce the impact. There was only so much he could do, and he had to protect his head by thrusting out a straight arm. There was a crack in his wrist - an outcome he had predicted the moment he had decided to use his arm as he had. However, a couple of guaranteed but insignificant broken bones were better than risking a head injury. He waited a moment, hoping for a result, but there was no welcome ding to offset his pain. His entire wrist ached, and he had to bite his lip to avoid crying out. With a sigh and a curse, he went to the crystal and fixed himself up. It took almost forty seconds for the mending to take place, because specialist spells were needed to reset the bones that had broken and moved. It would have been far faster if he had supplemented the healing, but, as always, he was attempting to keep the breadth of his abilities under wraps. When he turned around, he was surprised to see that Briana had left her obstacle course and was chatting with Eloise. If Tom hadn¡¯t known better, he would have thought they were best friends. As it was, he could smell trouble. Kang only shrugged when he caught the other boy¡¯s eyes. Sometimes it felt like Briana considered Eloise to be a friend, but neither of the girls was laid-back. Their personalities clashed with each other. Eloise was not the type to take a backward step, and Briana was somehow the most competitive person he had ever met. She had to win at everything. The two little girls were chatting busily and Tom was not at all surprised when they lined up next to each other on the paired obstacle courses, thirteen and fourteen respectively. It was the course Kang had been practicing on, with Briana doing the number fifteen and Tom having settled for number ten. ¡°This is going to end badly.¡± Kang said quietly to him as they both moved into position ready to cheer on Briana. ¡°I think it¡¯s good.¡± Kang grimaced slightly. ¡°Not if she loses.¡± ¡°Focus on the prize, Kang. Think long term and not about how painful the next hour might be.¡± The two contestants took off. Briana moved with her usual grace and agility, while Eloise was somewhat more tentative. Slowly, their friend drew ahead. His fellow reincarnator relaxed next to him. Tom personally wasn¡¯t so convinced. ¡°I think, Kang, that a loss might be for the best. It will teach her. Winning will only give her a big head.¡± Kang nodded. ¡°It could work out. I guess, if she loses, she¡¯ll just keep challenging Eloise until she gets her win. Apart from the likely late dinner, that¡¯s not too bad.¡± They both chuckled, Kang having had been on the end of that particular form of being overly competitive more so than Tom. There had been times when he had lost deliberately, after the tenth challenge, just so they could do something more interesting. Briana reached the sheer climb, the second-last obstacle. She was a full ten seconds ahead of Eloise, and she started clambering up it immediately. The obstacle was designed for older and taller kids, which made it a severe struggle for children of their limited stature. They knew how to do it. They had to crab crawl sideways along the mock-rock face as much as going up to compensate for the inability to reach higher hand holds. It was the primary reason none of them could get competitive times against the teenagers ¨C and also the reason why Kang, who was slightly taller, consistently beat Bri on the course. Tom wondered if Eloise, not being as familiar with the climb, would even be able to get up it. They had all failed the first few times they had tried it. She reached the wall at a run, with a big grin on her face, and leapt up. Her feet landed on empty air and she pushed off. To Tom¡¯s stunned surprise she shot up the wall effortlessly. Three, four and a fifth jump off one foot propelled her to and then past Briana. She grabbed the top, and with a struggle pulled herself up and over. She was now well ahead. ¡°Shit,¡± Kang whispered. ¡°I had forgotten about that,¡± Tom agreed. For those who have gotten past the wall, there was a number of descending switch back tight ropes to reach the end. With her lead established, Eloise took her time to ensure she won, and, even with Briana sprinting recklessly down the ropes, she couldn¡¯t close the distance. Eloise danced on the finishing platform in triumph. ¡°Again.¡± Briana demanded. The other girl shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± She touched her head. ¡°I have the start of the headache. I won¡¯t be able to use force step for ten minutes.¡± ¡°That was cheating. Let¡¯s do it without any skills.¡± Eloise disagreed with a shake of her head. ¡°I won. I have nothing to prove.¡± ¡°Best of three, and no waiting around.¡± It was clear that Eloise was not going to change her mind. ¡°I bet you I can beat you.¡± Tom volunteered knowing, how Briana would respond before he did so, but the distraction was needed so he took one for the team. ¡°You beat me? Never! You can¡¯t¡­And no, I don¡¯t want to challenge you. I¡¯m going to beat Ellie.¡± ¡°Then, Kang, I challenge you. Prepare to be humbled.¡± The other reincarnator chuckled, but lined up with him. ¡°Doing it with a skill¡¯s cheating.¡± They heard Briana proclaim. ¡°So the win doesn¡¯t count.¡± Chapter 90.2 – Repairing Weapons It was a conversation neither of them wanted to be involved in. Tom prepared and changed his handicap. It was something he did regularly, and if there were any watchers, they must have thought he was schizophrenic, given how much his skills varied both run by run and day by day. This time he chose not to use lightning and gravity at all, but instead applied the energy-sapping affect. It was both the easiest and the hardest one to cope with. The willpower needed to push himself through the crippling exhaustion sucked, but, once he actually moved, he felt so free and in control ¨C much more so than when the other effects were running. Without the gravity and muscle cramps, Tom could move at near full-speed, and so he kept up with his opponent. It was only when he reached the wall that things became harder. Kang¡¯s height impacted the course for the first time, and Tom had to strain his muscles more than usual to keep up. His hand slipped, and he scrambled, but couldn¡¯t hold himself up. As he fell, he spent a point of fate to get himself an unexpected gift. It was nonsense. A point wouldn¡¯t accomplish anything, but coming up with random ways to use fate was proving more and more difficult, so he hoped he had a breakthrough soon. He crashed on his back heavily, and then lay there, gasping for breath and too exhausted to move because of the ring. A short time later, Kang landed beside him having seen the fall, and had returned to make sure he was not injured. ¡°You okay?¡± He responded with a big thumbs-up, then fiddled with his restrictions, and, with the artificial tiredness gone, was able to get to his feet. They went again. He and Kang practiced together for the rest of the session as Eloise and Briana squabbled and ran through frequent contests. Eloise won most of them, because a well-placed force step made a lot of obstacles trivial. Eventually, the four of them went to dinner, both girls loudly proclaiming that they had won and had beaten the other. Given the tone was unlikely to change, Tom was happy to retreat to his system room and the company of the other champions while feeling more than a small amount of pity for Kang. Neither of his lecturers were present and were not expected to be for the entire evening. So, as he left the blue grass for the more sterile common area and its stone floor, he chose to sit with his back against the large central boulder. The moment he did, so a message appeared above him. Enhance Wooden Weapons for free. Possesses a Living Wood Skill, willing to assess and improve tier-zero weaponry. ¨C Child Bucket One so all are welcome. Tom knew his abilities were weak, but open contestants weren¡¯t allowed to help others due to their wide level of skills, and everyone else in the lower buckets was martially focused. None of them would have taken the time to learn any crafting abilities, so, generally, they all had to cope with the crappy gear supplied in the armoury. Given the quality of the items available, he expected to be useful, despite how inadequate his skill would have been in most situations. Almost immediately, a monkey-like creature about Tom¡¯s size scampered up. ¡°What can I help you with?¡± Tom said brightly. ¡°Can you tier something up?¡± He shook his head, knowing that the magic of the place would let the alien interpret the motion. ¡°Not yet.¡± ¡°Then you probably can¡¯t help me.¡± In its hands appeared a kind of whip like construction. There were lengths of vine about a foot long, linking more clunky, sharp wooden sections together. With straight physics, it wouldn¡¯t have worked, but if it was bolstered by a skill or magic, Tom could imagine a whip being almost alive, having teeth at random spots that could attack you from multiple angles. ¡°Can you improve this?¡± The monkey handed it over to him. Tom¡¯s skill interacted with it immediately. The weapon was a masterpiece, even if it was only tier-zero. Life throbbed in the vine sections, which made them strong and flexible, and the wooden spiked knots were the opposite. They were dead and refined perfectly, leaving him not a single flaw to attempt to fix. Once more, he shook his head. ¡°Sorry, no. It¡¯s perfect. I can¡¯t do a thing.¡± It took its weapon back. ¡°I thought so. We had a treant in my group last year. They had an innate ability to improve wooden objects.¡± The monkey waved at Tom¡¯s sign. ¡°Like yours, I suspect. The improvements he made to my whip won me a number of battles, and so I figured I should check to see if you could enhance it further.¡± ¡°You¡¯re talking past tense.¡± The monkey grinned at that. ¡°He was too cautious to be incapacitated, let alone killed. Lacoo was not the best fighter.¡± ¡°But at less than one victory per week, that would win him eighty coins max.¡± The monkey looked at him. ¡°Don¡¯t sound so disparaging. With curated lists, that¡¯s enough to build something. It¡¯ll get you a solid selection of tier-zero and -one abilities, a few tier-two, and a couple of tier-threes. That¡¯s heaps for what we need. It¡¯s enough skills that they can teach the pre-requisites for five or so classes. That can turn things around.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°I can see how that will work, logically.¡± ¡°Tom, you¡¯re a human. You¡¯re in the competition. What can shift the needle for you is nothing like what does it for the rest of us. Eighty coins are enough to transform the future of a species. Lacoo got what he wanted, and lacked the drive and skill to push into adolescent two. Back to you.¡± He gestured at the wall. ¡°Will your skill improve, or is it static? Should I be checking back?¡± ¡°In time, yes; possibly?¡± Tom frowned as he considered his likely trajectories. ¡°Definitely within a year, as there¡¯s an item on my curated list that will help.¡± It bowed its arms. ¡°Too late for me, then. I only have another two months here.¡± ¡°Then I have to say sorry. I doubt I¡¯ll skill up enough to be able to help.¡± ¡°Well, then good luck. I hope you can do for others what Lacoo did for me.¡± Then it tucked itself into a ball, which was the equivalent of it bowing to him and thanking him, then disappeared, presumably returning to Existentia proper. Tom shook his head and marvelled at the interaction. He had known that the natives were getting a lot out of the trial, but he had assumed that was just people fighting high-stakes battles rather than a culture of gaining only a single point in each duel. Given that terror races didn¡¯t fight with a GOD¡¯s shield, it made sense that most couldn¡¯t afford the risk. The transformation potential of the disks he was making was greater than he had realised. There was the sound of grinding rocks, and, when he looked up, he saw the seat opposite him occupied by a creature. His gut said it was biological, flesh and blood, but its appearance suggested it was a form of elemental that had been created out of rock and moss. A combination of axes, scythes, and hammers were dumped down on the table in front of him. There were ten in total, and each of them larger than what a full-grown human could comfortably wield. ¡°Me weapons break. You fix.¡± The translated English was terrible, and its deep voice sounded threatening, but only friendly vibes radiated from it. Cautiously, Tom reached out and touched the nearest war hammer. It was exactly what it looked like: an unimproved item from the armoury, a shaped and sanded single piece of timber that had been attached to a lump of metal. He could feel the imperfections throughout the shaft. He forced himself to meet the eyes that looked like liquid crystal. ¡°I can improve them.¡± ¡°Good. These break almost every hit. Very bad. Cost fights.¡± Tom concentrated on the first one. His skill locked in on it and started making the corrections. At a thought, a glass of water appeared, and he sipped on it. Why was talking to the monkey such fun? He had no desire to interact with whatever this person was. ¡°You did?¡± He glanced up in surprise. Was it really asking if he was finished already? ¡°No, I¡¯m not done. I¡¯m not even close. It¡¯ll take me an hour for all of them.¡± ¡°Mine,¡± it patted them. ¡°You magic fix. Then armour.¡± The room allowed him to interpret the meaning that was intended to be conveyed. ¡°When they¡¯re finished, I¡¯ll send them to the armoury.¡± he agreed pleasantly. ¡°Good, good. Me go fight.¡± The person left, and Tom focused on his skill mending the invisible imperfections inside the wood. More aliens drifted by. Slowly, the pile of work grew. Most left their weapons after a short conversation like the rock person had. Tom didn¡¯t mind - this was better than the bubble tag he would have otherwise been pretending to enjoy. ¡°What¡¯s the penalty on this?¡± he asked the air. ¡°Penalty is three percent.¡± Out of the corner of his eyes, Tom could see the ugly construct now that it had spoken. It had appeared in the way the creepy things usually did. One second, it hadn¡¯t been there, the next it was. Tom laughed at that answer. It was DEUS putting her thumb on the scale to give him an incentive to do this for her other representatives. Having only a three percent tax for the benefit of being able to work in perfect conditions was a massive boon. There should be quick levels because of the sheer variety of fixes that he had to make, and the environment was perfect. Everything was dynamic. The seat was able to adjust flawlessly so that he didn¡¯t suffer sore muscles from sitting still too long. There was food and drink available as he desired, and the weapons he was improving could be retrieved or sent away at a thought. Baptiste came and settled down beside him, choosing the seat next to him instead of positioning himself across the table the way everyone else had done. The moment Tom finished enhancing a one-hundred-percent wood-constructed morning star, the plant creature snagged it with one of his vines before Tom could send it away. ¡°Please, may I look? I have some innate talent for this sort of stuff.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes, but I¡¯ve been watching you. Mine is very different from yours.¡± Tom observed with interest as the weapon glowed while Baptiste was using his own ability on it. The changes made to the wood were subtle: there was a slight shift in its properties; the spikes became harder and lost some of their flexibility, which was likely going to result in them acting more like a metal than wood. The chain links were likewise transformed to be slightly more pliable, which meant that they were going to become less likely to break. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s much more impressive than anything I did.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not. It¡¯s very limited. I can¡¯t do what you were doing. I can¡¯t correct damage or close fractures. All I did was make it so the most suitable variety of wood was selected for each component part.¡± ¡°But the morning star is better. All of has been improved.¡± Its leaves rustled like a shrug. ¡°I shifted it to a type that suits the weapon better. To be honest, I¡¯d be surprised if you couldn¡¯t do it.¡± Tom¡¯s eyes sharpened in excitement. ¡°How?¡± Baptiste¡¯s leaves straightened slightly, which conveyed uncertainty. ¡°My trait might be different from your skill. I can feel the various potentials of woods and choose which one to bring out.¡± ¡°My skill does¡­¡± Tom stopped talking as his throat locked up because Social Silence had interceded. He couldn¡¯t finish that sentence. He had been about to say ¡®doesn¡¯t work like that¡¯. For a moment, he sat there, stunned at the interruption. He hadn¡¯t been expecting that, but then he thought about what his skill did and why his tier-seven skill had stepped in at that moment to stop him from saying something that could hurt his relationship with Baptiste. The only reason he could think of for the intervention was that he had been about to inadvertently lie about something Baptiste actually cared about. What did my Living Wood skill really do? He asked himself. As he inserted his ritual into the wood, he was changing its nature, which was exactly what Baptiste was doing. However, his friend was controlling the process, while Tom had been taking the easiest and most magical separate form that he could find. ¡°My skill does things differently,¡± he told Baptiste, simply pretending to finish the same sentence even if the meaning was almost the opposite of what he had been originally intending to convey. ¡°But I¡¯ve done something similar in the past, even if I didn¡¯t consider this use case.¡± He clapped his hands excitedly. ¡°I think I can see how to do it, but it¡¯s going to take some experimentation.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure two minds can make things go faster. Let me help.¡± A lump of wood appeared in front of Baptiste. Half of it glowed and then he passed it to Tom. ¡°Try adjusting your side to be as soft as mine.¡± Chapter 91.1 – Seismic Shift Tom¡¯s mind interacted with the wood in his hands. The nature of the two different sections was clear to him, and he could see the paths that would let him alter both. For almost a minute, he sat still, feeling out the exact quality of the changes that Baptiste had made. Using every aspect of the skill he could, he probed the sections and zeroed in on the underlying biological cells. It was, he discovered, exactly like what Baptiste had suggested it to be. It was the magic of the find-and-replace type rather than the transformation method that his skill naturally tended toward. The previous ironwood cells had been switched to becoming pine en masse. Even the leftover out of cell detritus had been replaced completely. To his senses, half the wood had always been pine. This was not a cheap alteration to make the ironwood look like pine. It had been transformed into the softer wood at a fundamental and absolute level. ¡°Fascinating,¡± Tom muttered as he focused his attention on where the two woods merged, as well as at the sharp transition between the two cell types. Then he cycled through what his own ability could do. It couldn¡¯t transform, but it could grow new cells, could impact the structure of dead cells and alter the existing ones. It wasn¡¯t clear if he could do what Baptiste had asked him to, but he searched for a workaround anyway. Another five minutes passed as he explored the various available options before finally settling on the type of adjustment he needed. While Baptiste¡¯s talent had altered the nature of the cells, that was not what he could do. He could grow new cells, alter the expression of existing cells, and influence the pattern of the constructed fibres, but that was the extent of his abilities. He couldn¡¯t just make a wish and then suddenly have an entire section change to pine. Tom set about duplicating the pot plant¡¯s efforts with his inferior tool set. Tough linked lines of fibres ruptured, an occasional cell burst, and new cells that had fewer links with its neighbours were created. All of those changes acted on a fundamental level to make the wood softer. The process was slow and after five minutes of effort that pushed his already stressed skill tolerance to the point of breaking, Tom stopped. A further ten percent of the lump of wood had been converted. For a proof of concept and first attempt, it was probably enough. Wordlessly, he passed it to Baptiste. The pot plant examined it curiously. ¡°It¡¯s not the same,¡± he finally said. A long, nasty thorn appeared on one of the vines; it plunged first into Baptiste¡¯s section, then into Tom¡¯s. Both times, the piercing action looked effortless courtesy of his friend¡¯s strength and the softness of the wood. ¡°Not quite as soft as what I created, but it was pretty close.¡± Tom shrugged, pleased to having had mostly succeeded. ¡°Mind you, you¡¯ve only changed a small amount, and the transformation appeared challenging.¡± ¡°My skill doesn¡¯t work like yours,¡± Tom told him animatedly. ¡°The further I have to shift the nature of the wood, the harder it is.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± he exclaimed. ¡°So if it was only a tiny change, like enhancing it to be slightly harder, then you could do something like that easily. Is that right?¡± ¡°Yes. Well¡­ kind of. I haven¡¯t tested the efficiency.¡± ¡°Great, let¡¯s practice.¡± The wood they had been using disappeared, and a new one appeared in its place. Together, they started playing with Tom¡¯s ability to improve the wood. Providing he wasn¡¯t trying to create a significant change, his skill proved to be surprisingly efficient. It had also grew easier to use, and he suspected he knew why.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. With a thought, he imagined seeing the skill on the screen in front of him. Skill: Living Wood Growth ¨C Tier 2 ¨C Level 4 You are able to make wooden plants grow to your desired specifications. Threshold Bonus 4: Adjusting properties of the wood costs 70% less mana. Sideways Evolution 1. You¡¯re able to find a seed of life even in wood that others would assume is long dead. The text had instantly appeared on a patch of the table free of obscuring weapons. Baptiste and anyone else in the line of sight could see it, but Tom didn¡¯t care to keep this secret, and the profile he had entered already had all his sensitive information. There were no secrets to be had, but the evidence that this place worked like April¡¯s trial was a godsend. He wanted to jump up and down in excitement, but stopped himself. While he used the ritual status screen in the isolation room regularly, it only provided two slots a day or sixteen per week. That was fine currently, but when the number of skills he possessed was going to increase, being limited like that would stop him from keeping regular track of his changes. Then another thought occurred to him: what happened if, instead of this place being like April¡¯s trial, it was actually better? What if the trial allowed him to skip the status screen restriction? He focused on a different thought. He wanted to see his true status sheet. Text scrolled on the table, starting with his missing class and then attributes. Panic flared in him, and he killed the scrolling information. His heart was thumping. That had almost been a mistake. A costly, pointless error, because it had displayed his own painfully constructed status sheet, not the clean system one. The ridiculousness of him nearly printing out his whole sheet shocked Tom¡¯s sense of self confidence. He wasn¡¯t supposed to make those types of mistakes, and he felt nauseous just imagining the damage it could have caused. He hadn¡¯t thought to pre-block the title section. Baptiste had been sitting next to him, and he had almost displayed all of his titles. The unredeemable injury it would have done to him and any other pre-system child watching could have been immense. Tom felt sick thinking about it, and it wasn¡¯t like he was sure the system would have prevented the mistake. DEUS would, if she could; but the other GODs had a say in the rules of this place, and who knows what they had collectively decided was appropriate. Idiot, he berated himself internally. He couldn¡¯t believe he had made that mistake. ¡°What was that?¡± Baptiste asked suspiciously, probably picking up both on his actions and some of Tom¡¯s panic. ¡°It was my handcrafted status sheet,¡± the table had returned to showing only his Living Wood skill. Given Baptiste had been paying attention ,Tom was glad his instincts had kicked in as quickly as they had. ¡°Why would you do that?¡± The first couple of responses he thought up were aggressively stopped by Social Silence. He coughed and spluttered as he tried to regain control over his vocal cords. ¡°Are you sick or something?¡± ¡°No, my throat was irritated.¡± The plant¡¯s body language reflected confusion and suspicion. ¡°It¡¯s a human thing.¡± He volunteered. ¡°Sounds annoying.¡± Baptiste stated in a clipped tone, clearly not fully convinced. Tom smiled at that description. Social Silence was, by design, both a blessing and a curse, so at times that second part of its nature made it annoying. However, overall, it was designed to help him and benefit him, and it did just that. ¡°It can be very frustrating,¡± Tom agreed. ¡°As for your question... I find quantifying my advancements helps me maintain my motivation. That might also be a human thing.¡± He smiled wryly. ¡°No, it sounds pretty cool, actually. Not something pre-system people usually do, but I might talk to my elders to determine if it could help me. Now,¡± a vine extended to tap the piece of wood Tom held. ¡°No more distractions. Let¡¯s see you make it resistant to fire.¡± There were no more breakthroughs in the session, but it was fun. Once Tom started to grow tired, he begged off and took control of his cocooned body. Within seconds, he was fast asleep. Chapter 91.2 – Seismic Shift The next day when he exited the isolation room Briana herded both him and Kang straight back into it. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± Kang asked the moment the door shut, and the chime went off to indicate that the room was secure. Briana stood in front of them, determination written across her face. ¡°I want to do what Eloise did. Help me.¡± They both looked at each other, wordlessly communicating the next steps. Tom flicked his head at Kang aggressively. The other boy sighed. ¡°Why, Tom? Why do you always leave it to me?¡± ¡°Leave what?¡± the irate six-year-old snapped. ¡°Are you guys being meanies? What¡¯s he leaving?¡± ¡°The hard conversations.¡± Kang answered her. ¡°What¡¯s hard? I need to do what she does, and I¡¯m good at magic. I¡¯ll learn. And you can both help.¡± ¡°Briana,¡± Kang said carefully. ¡°Eloise uses force magic. Presumably she has a high affinity for it. You don¡¯t.¡± ¡°I can use water.¡± She flicked her hand and a missile shot out and struck the combat dummy hard. Tom winced. That was a new spell, and it was powerful. Based on the slight tears in the combat dummy and the sound of the collision, if it struck his unarmoured flesh, it would cut skin and muscle open, and potentially even damage bone. ¡°I just need to use it to do the stepping things.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it will work with water. ¡°Don¡¯t be big meanies! She was faster than me!¡± ¡°I guess we can look at what¡¯s available,¡± Kang said helplessly. ¡°But I¡¯ve never heard of water being able to do that.¡± ¡°Water walk?¡± ¡°Is not what she wants,¡± Kang answered Tom with a little heat. ¡°Don¡¯t give her false hope. Force Step and Air Step are well-known low-tier aerial movement techniques. But there is nothing similar for any of the other affinities.¡± ¡°I disagree. I could¡­ I mean I¡¯ve heard you can kind of do it with earth.¡± Kang shot him another annoyed look. ¡°I¡¯d be surprised if that¡¯s possible without the use of a domain.¡± Tom thought about his own experience and exactly when his control of earth had transitioned into something he could use for aerial mobility. ¡°Yeah, now that I think about it, you¡¯re probably right.¡± Briana, meanwhile, was staring at them with a mix of disbelief, hope, and growing annoyance. ¡°Every domain can do it.¡± Kang continued his lecture. ¡°But as a low-tiered water spell? I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s possible. Maybe with her storm affinity¡­¡± ¡°Storm is even less likely than water.¡± Tom told him. ¡°She wants a low-mana spell. Storm has great movement techniques, but they cost too much mana for her to learn.¡± ¡°How do you know that?¡± Tom said nothing. Briana was watching them dangerously. ¡°Why do you know that?¡± ¡°Kang,¡± Tom hissed at him. They were being too careless. ¡°I checked what was available in her other affinities. Arcane is the most likely here.¡± He whispered, hoping Briana wouldn¡¯t overhear. ¡°Stop doing secrets,¡± she insisted and marched over to the cupboard that held all the spell wire frame diagrams. She threw it open. ¡°Kang. Help me check, please. You¡¯re the best reader.¡± She pulled out the water domain booklet. It was obvious that Kang wanted to run, but Briana seemed to sense that and cornered him. ¡°Please - it won¡¯t take long. Please, help. Don¡¯t be a meanie. I need this.¡± Reluctantly, Kang sat down and went through the pages of spell names with her. None of the names were anything like air step, and the other boy stopped reading. ¡°You don¡¯t need this, Bri. You have other strengths that would be better to pursue. It doesn¡¯t matter if Eloise is better at this one thing.¡± That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Her frustration that had been building went to the next level. One hand went to her hip, and with her other she poked him on the chest. ¡°No,¡± Briana snapped. ¡°No, she beat me too easily. I need mid-air water jump.¡± ¡°There isn¡¯t a spell like that.¡± Kang retorted in frustration. ¡°We just read both Storm and Water. There was nothing there that could be changed to be used like force step!¡± Tactically, they had steered her away from Arcane. Both of them knew that getting her to open a new affinity, especially only her fifth strongest, was stupid, and if she realised the solution to her current problem was in Arcane, that is exactly what she would do, and there would be nothing they could do to stop her. ¡°I¡¯ll make a new spell then. The teacher said you could craft your own spells.¡± ¡°Experts can create their own spells.¡± Kang looked at him. ¡°Come on, give me some help here.¡± He implored.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Well, with physics, there¡¯s two ways you can¡­¡± ¡°Not that type of help,¡± Kang interrupted him. ¡°Tell her why it won¡¯t work.¡± ¡°No¡­ Tom what were you saying about fizz- Fizz sticks,¡± she stumbled over the word, unable to pronounce it properly. ¡°Physics,¡± Kang said, glaring at Tom. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve read everything, and there isn¡¯t a spell you can use as a base. So there¡¯s no point worrying about it.¡± ¡°What does phy, phy stick.¡± Briana stuttered. ¡°What were you saying? How do I get it working? What are the two ways?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have either of the affinities that can. The spells don¡¯t support it. Focus on what you¡¯re good at.¡± ¡°Kang, stay out of it.¡± ¡°You asked me to help.¡± ¡°I asked you to help me read,¡± her face went red. ¡°Let Tom speak. You¡¯re being rude.¡± She looked at him. ¡°Water magic may not support¡­ wait,¡± he said hurriedly as he saw her preparing to object. ¡°Let me finish, please. I¡¯m trying to be helpful. Water magic may not support what you want to be doing. But to duplicate an air step you either need to manifest water and hold it still enough that you can jump on it, or shoot water out of your feet fast enough to propel yourself upwards.¡± Briana said nothing for a moment. Her face was screwed up in thought, almost as though thinking was painful. She looked from Kang to him, with her face screwing up more and more. Then she went absolutely white. ¡°Briana, what¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked in sudden concern. The little girl glanced between them rapidly. She attempted to form words, but couldn¡¯t. ¡°Just talk,¡± Kang advised. ¡°Tom, how do you know all that? And how do you both talk so well? Kang was reading words I had never heard before. How did you know them? It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± ¡°I practice lots,¡± Kang started. ¡°No, stop,¡± Briana ordered, her hand reaching out in an attempt to cover the taller boy¡¯s mouth. ¡°It¡¯s my turn. I¡­ it.¡± Her gaze kept switching from one to the other, and her eyes were filled with horror. She was almost hyperventilating. ¡°What aren¡¯t you telling me?¡± She licked her lips and then they all saw another flood of realisation. An increased conviction in what she had already worked out. She took an unsteady step backwards. ¡°Are you going to die like Ba?¡± ¡°What are you saying?¡± Kang responded, desperately trying to hide who he was. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re suggesting.¡± Tom tried at the same time. ¡°Are you going to die like Ba?¡± She stared at them, one after the other. There were now tears in her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s both of you,¡± she whispered, sounding shocked. ¡°We¡¯re not talking about this. Never. Don¡¯t talk. Don¡¯t ask. Don¡¯t question.¡± She repeated the familiar mantra like it meant more to her all of a sudden. Like what had always been something adults repeated continuously, but had no meaning had been transformed into wisdom that was the difference between life and death. ¡°Don¡¯t talk. Don¡¯t ask. Don¡¯t question.¡± ¡°Briana.¡± Kang tried. But she put her fingers in her ears. ¡°Nah, Nah! Nah, Nah!¡± ¡°Briana, we need to talk?¡± ¡°Nah, nah, can¡¯t hear you.¡± She was scrunching her eyes shut, hand over ears and yelling loud enough to drown them out. ¡°It¡¯s important.¡± Tom tried. ¡°Can¡¯t hear you, can¡¯t hear you.¡± Her shouts were hysterical. She ran to the door and triggered the exit. Tom went to stop her, but Kang¡¯s hand closed over his shoulder to hold him in place. ¡°No. don¡¯t. It¡¯s too late¡± The doors opened. Kang¡¯s arms had dropped to his side, and his face was a schooled neutral. Briana ran out. She had left the isolation room. They couldn¡¯t confront her even if they wanted to. With agonising slowness, the doors shut, and there was another chime to demonstrate privacy. She knew! That was the only thoughts his mind could hold. There were disasters and there was this. Bri was six, and she had worked out their secret. Their lives were dependent on a six-year-old. Tom wanted to collapse. He wasn¡¯t sure there was anything he could do to save the situation. Kang rounded on him. ¡°Physics, Tom - what were you thinking?¡± ¡°The damage was already done.¡± His mind was running over the conversation and the incongruities that had occurred. ¡°I reckon she had already figured it out by then.¡± ¡°Bullshit.¡± ¡°She suspected from the start. She wasn¡¯t asking children to give her that solution. If we were normal kids, how would we be able to help her with her magic? How could a normal six-year-old help there? She was asking for more.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure. If you hadn¡¯t explained physics¡­¡± ¡°Kang, it wasn¡¯t just me. Water Metamorphosis, Nauseous Murk, Induced Aneurysm, Ephemeral Drowning - what six-year-old can not only read and pronounce them, but also know what each of them meant?¡± His friend froze as he realised exactly how badly he, too, had stuffed up. ¡°I just got lost in the moment.¡± ¡°We both did.¡± ¡°But we can solve this.¡± Kang said optimistically. ¡°Get her into an isolation room. Gaslight her into forgetting.¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°I reckon that horse has bolted.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t do nothing. Why are you so calm? Do you know how dangerous this is for us?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not an idiot. We might have already written our death sentences. But there¡¯s not much we can do if that¡¯s the case. But I also don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to dob on us.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not what she¡¯ll let slip deliberately.¡± Kang looked at him in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s the mind reading, the psychic examinations. It won¡¯t be her choice. They¡¯ll get into her brain and steal the information. I¡¯ll set up an emergency meeting with Dimitri. There has to be precedent.¡± Tom grabbed him before he could move. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Kang asked. ¡°What¡¯s happens if his response is to kill her?¡± ¡°He wouldn¡¯t,¡± the other boy blustered. ¡°No, he wouldn¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s more valuable?¡± Tom questioned rhetorically. ¡°Dimitri¡¯s a good man, but¡­ Can you be sure he won¡¯t overreact?¡± ¡°No, he¡¯ll just oath bind her or something.¡± ¡°Can he? Removing loose ends might be the only choice they have. I can see a situation where oath binding could make the problem worse. First, it¡¯ll attract attention to her, and second, we¡¯ll have adults doing the ritual, which creates another weak link. I can¡¯t be sure. We¡¯re not telling Dimitri.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t just do nothing!¡± Tom put his head in his hands. He remembered her expression and the mantra she had been chanting. Briana was not going to deliberately betray them, but other things could go wrong. The mind reading, the change in behaviour. She was only six. She couldn¡¯t be expected to react to this maturely, and, as much as he wanted to believe in Dimitri, he knew the pressure the competition put people under. He had seen firsthand how good people had done unimaginable things because of a perceived need. As much as he liked him, he could see the situation where Dimitri dealt with the issue by summarily executing her. This was not something he could deal with himself, because he didn¡¯t have all the information required. He needed proper advice. ¡°I¡¯m going to talk to Corrine.¡± ¡°And how do you plan on doing that? Because if your plan is to drag her into an isolation room, I¡¯ll stop you. I¡¯m not about to let you expose her.¡± ¡°Once more, Kang, I¡¯m not an idiot. I know I occasionally say stupid things, but in tactical situations like this I¡¯m good. There was a reason I was as valued as I was.¡± ¡°You¡¯re pulling rank on me?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m not pulling rank, but I will ask Corrine. I made it into the Divine Champions¡¯ trial, and, provided she¡¯s in it at the same time, we can talk, and do it safely. There is no risk. No one can overhear.¡± ¡°You did what? What do you mean that you can talk to her anytime you want?¡± ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m going to go. I¡¯m sure my avatar is capable of answering your questions, but try to stay in here as long as possible. I¡¯ll get proper advice and be back soon.¡± Before Kang could stop him, he mentally took a sideway step, and a moment later he was on blue grass. ¡°Is Corrine here?¡± he asked immediately. ¡°Yes.¡± He turned to face the construct that had once more appeared in his blind spot. ¡°Take me to her.¡± He didn¡¯t know what to do. He didn¡¯t even know how to evaluate how screwed he was. All he could do was hope that Corrine had knowledge that could help them. Because he didn¡¯t need a doctorate in psychology to know that putting his life in the hands of a six-year-old was a terrible idea. Chapter 92 – Unwelcome Advice

Corrine, Tom discovered, was in the central area, in an animated conversation with four other alien. All of them were substantially larger than her, but the largest one was only hippo-size. She stopped mid-sentence when she caught sight of him. Concern flashed in her eyes, and she leapt to her feet. ¡°Fuck, Tom, what the fuck happened? You look like¡­¡± ¡°Briana knows.¡± He interrupted. ¡°She knows I¡¯m a.¡± Social Silence locked his throat before he could blurt out the wrong word in front of the others. While some people here might have guessed the human secret, they hadn¡¯t confirmed the facts with anyone, and reincarnation was rare enough that no one would truly believe it unless it was confirmed by the primary source. ¡°Briana? Your little sidekick?¡± she asked. He nodded dully. ¡°You didn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t. Oh. shit. Fuck.¡± A small part of Tom died at that reaction. It was not what he had wanted to hear from her. He had been hoping for her to burst into laughter and then to assure him that there was nothing to worry about. To inform him that it happened all the time and there were processes and systems in place to make it go away. That was what he had wanted to hear. A stream of obscenities was close to the worse case scenario. ¡°That¡¯s fucked up.¡± She continued after a moment. ¡°That¡¯s bad. Terrible! How? What the fuck? Why would you tell her?¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t. She guessed.¡± ¡°She guessed?¡± Corrine looked at him blankly for a moment. ¡°Yes, she worked it out by herself.¡± ¡°Like, I know what the fucking words mean. But how? How could you possibly be so fucking incompetent?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t just me. It was both of us.¡± She gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. There was disbelief in her eyes. ¡°What? Kang as well? Fuck, Fuck.¡± She screamed the swear words at the roof. Then she glared at him. ¡°And what were you two fucking idiots doing to be discovered? Were you two fucking spastics chatting about your past lives like imbeciles?¡± ¡°No, of course not.¡± ¡°Showing off your powers? Discussing builds?¡± ¡°We were helping her. It was the advice we gave and reading the spell list that did us in.¡± ¡°But why? On what world can you be so careless?¡± ¡°I think she¡¯s suspected us for a while. I reckon it was an accumulation of many things that she had observed over a long period, and today¡¯s events just pushed her over the edge into making the accusation. For example, our performance at obstacle training.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s concluding anything from that. I¡¯ve seen you. You¡¯re like a fish out of water.¡± ¡°Kang isn¡¯t like that.¡± ¡°No, he would do better if he hid his coordination. But still, that shouldn¡¯t be enough. What reading? What advice prompted her to make up her mind today?¡± Tom felt like tearing out his hair. This wasn¡¯t helping, and they were on the clock. ¡°It was a mistake. We screwed up. We accept that.¡± he shouted back at her with tears dripping from his eyes, which made him feel a lot like the young, helpless child his body actually was. ¡°Corrine, she guessed the truth, and I don¡¯t know what to do now. Help me, please.¡± Corrine cradled her head in her palm. ¡°Oh fuck. Um, this is bad. There¡¯s the easy solution but I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re the type to be that extreme.¡± ¡°No!¡± Tom snarled having guessed from the way she was presenting it what she was implying. ¡°We¡¯re not doing that. It¡¯s not acceptable.¡± Corrine nodded like she approved of his reaction. ¡°Don¡¯t tell Dim then.¡± He felt sick to his stomach at what she had just said. Lives beyond their own were at stake. Everyone who had made it to the competition, at least those who weren¡¯t delusional, always expected to have to make hard decisions. There were things that would make you feel like a donkey had kicked you in the nuts, and there was this. Tom shook his head from side to side: ¡°Dim- no. Dim wouldn¡¯t. He wouldn¡¯t do that. Would he?¡± She hesitated. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t. She¡¯s only a child.¡± ¡°My understanding is that the policy is that he would offer you the choice.¡± Tom felt like vomiting. Part of him approved pragmatism, but most of him didn¡¯t. Then there was the knowledgeable way she discussed the process, one that spoke to personal experience. Subconsciously, he moved back away from her, sitting up straighter and withdrawing slightly. ¡°Corrine, how do you know that? Did this happen to you? Did you...¡± ¡°No, it didn¡¯t fucking happen to me, thank DEUS, but I¡¯ve chatted about it. Discussed hypotheticals.¡± She stopped talking a sad smile on her face. ¡°And from afar, I¡¯ve seen the consequences. But that¡¯s not my story to tell.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t do that. I¡¯ll tell him no. I won¡¯t let him order her death. It doesn¡¯t matter what the personal cost is, she¡¯s innocent.¡± The same despondent smile graced her face. ¡°Tom, I¡¯m very glad to hear you say that. But it¡¯s not just your decision, is it? Kang gets a say as well.¡± ¡°He wouldn¡¯t,¡± Tom said confidently. ¡°She¡¯s his little sister, too.¡± ¡°It¡¯s never that black and white, Tom. What people do when their lives are truly at stake might surprise you. Plus,¡± she waved at the sky. ¡°The situation¡¯s abnormal. It¡¯s pretty easy to calculate that, in the greater schemes of things, humanity is best served by you living and a less valuable person dying in your place.¡± ¡°No,¡± Tom interrupted. ¡°I hate that shit. It¡¯s bullshit.¡± ¡°I fucking detest it, too. But it has a ring of truth to it, which is part of the reason I find the concept so hateful.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Tom agreed. ¡°Life is not about logic and plus-minus calculations. There¡¯s a place for morals.¡± ¡°I agree, but are you certain she actually knows knows?¡± Tom nodded. ¡°It wasn¡¯t what she said - it was her eyes. She knows in here.¡± he smacked his chest over his heart.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck.¡± Corrine was visibly distressed as she paced back and forth. ¡°Definitely don¡¯t tell Dim. With two of you on the line, I don¡¯t know how he would react. Especially when one of them is you.¡± ¡°Why would that matter?¡± ¡°Tom, don¡¯t be an idiot - just your illusion-piercing titles are enough to keep you alive. You¡¯ve saved the life of lots of reincarnators with it. Not to mention the whole heroes thing.¡± ¡°Is it really a question of me or her?¡± Corrine stopped and looked at him. ¡°No, it¡¯s not anywhere near that black and white. We¡¯ve had this conversation before, Tom. Eventually, your friends can be brought under the reincarnator protections.¡± He checked his title and shook his head. ¡°She¡¯s not covered.¡± She tugged on her hair. ¡°No, she wouldn¡¯t be. That takes time, and there might even be a maturity requirement.¡± ¡°Then that means I¡¯m dead. They know I¡¯m here, Corrine. They¡¯ve already sent super assassins to try to flush me out once before. I¡¯m sure they have another party in reserve to eliminate me the moment they find out who I am.¡± ¡°Fuck, I know that, Tom. Your situation is more dangerous than usual. I think usually I would have said ignore it. Treat her like nothing happened. My understanding is that doing psychic reads on children, particularly younger ones, is nearly impossible. Our minds are too jumbled, and our judgement too impaired. But you being their focus changes things. A year ago, I would have said the chance of Briana being mind-read even once while in the orphanage was near zero. Now I would say she¡¯ll almost certainly get examined this year, and possibly in the next month.¡± ¡°So I¡¯ll be discovered. What do I do?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re a heartless fuck, you kill her yourself or have her killed.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll never do that.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Corrine said simply. ¡°If you did...¡± She stopped. ¡°Fuck. I¡¯m not going down that rabbit hole. I don¡¯t want to think that way about people. If Kang feels the same as you, there are two ways to deal with this. Both of them involves luck.¡± ¡°I need to spend fate.¡± Tom felt sick at that thought, and the impact this would have on his development, but the moment Bri had realised who they were he had known it was going to be required. ¡°Yes. You and Kang. It¡¯ll buy you time by putting her last on the list of people going to be mind-read. But that¡¯s not what I was talking about. You have two options. The first is to try to convince her you¡¯re not a reincarnator. It¡¯s not as crazy as it seems. People¡¯s views change all the time. I swear that everyone in my cohort has been the primary suspect at one point.¡± Tom considered that for a moment. The idea was simple enough, but he wasn¡¯t sure it was possible or something that he could pull off. Social Silence might even cause trouble for him. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do that.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s difficult. You¡¯ll need to hit the disinformation campaign hard. Get her off balance, stop being friends. Lie to her, throw suspicion onto others. Fight with her. I don¡¯t fucking know. I was never good at the shit.¡± ¡°Nor am I.¡± ¡°The other is to lean into being a reincarnator. Deepen the relationship enough that the title can cover her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± He intended to say it was a great idea, but Corrine cut in before he could. ¡°Puts all your fucking eggs in the one basket. Fate to delay mind reading, fate to speed up the title recognition, and the problem is, you¡¯re putting yourself on a timer, and there¡¯s no guarantee she can even be included. It¡¯d be unprecedented for Briana to get it. The youngest I know of anyone being covered is a nine-year-old. And the issue with this strategy if she has her mind read before your title covers her, you¡¯re dead. The evidence will be so incontrovertible that they¡¯ll send a rank hundred and fifty powerhouse to make sure of the kill.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± Her lips quirked slightly. ¡°That¡¯s my line, Tom.¡± He glared at her and, despite everything, despite the way it felt like the world was crumbling around him and the gathering darkness was coming to devour him, he cracked a smile. Corrine grinned back. ¡°This is so fucked. This is a fucking massive screw-up. What are you going to do?¡± ¡°I guess my first step has to be to talk to Kang. We¡¯re in this together.¡± She nodded. ¡°Good luck, Tom. You¡¯re a good man.¡± Instantly, he returned to his body and, while it had only been ten minutes; he was assailed with a full set of memories. His body had explained all the crucial aspects of the Divine Champions¡¯ trial, excluding the contender contest, because apparently there was a geas in place to prevent details of that leaking out. ¡°And did you ever count how many arms he actually had?¡± Kang asked with a mix of genuine enthusiasm and someone waiting to be led to the gallows. ¡°Who gives a shit.¡± Tom shot back. ¡°The guy sculpts mountains as a hobby.¡± ¡°Oh¡­I...¡± ¡°If you haven¡¯t realised it, I¡¯ve returned.¡± ¡°Thank DEUS. The avatar you get when in that room is amazing. It was even practicing the lightning spell. The only way to tell it wasn¡¯t you was because you refused to talk about Bri and what Corrine said.¡± ¡°Yeah, its ability to act appropriately is guaranteed by the GODs, but who cares about that? We need to talk about Briana.¡± Kang was serious again. ¡°What did she say?¡± Tom hesitated; he was genuinely unsure of how to approach this conversation. He trusted Kang, but how much did he actually know the boy? How pragmatic, or, more poetically, cold-hearted, was he? How far would he be willing to go? For the first time, he assessed the other boy for real. If the chips were down and they were in a death match, the question was, who would triumph? With his lightning and the nearby spears, Tom was pretty confident he could take him. Power Strike, Spark and Instant Strike would be a lethal combination against Quick Step, Axe abilities, and whatever shadow skills he had developed. There was no need to catch him by surprise in a straight-out fight - Tom was winning almost a hundred times out of a hundred. That meant he didn¡¯t have to be devious in assessing the boy¡¯s intent. He could be blunt like he preferred. ¡°Corrine¡¯s advice was to kill her.¡± he said casually. ¡°No way! The bitch actually said that?! We¡¯re not doing that, Tom.¡± Fury radiated from him. ¡°I won¡¯t let you.¡± Unbidden, Kang¡¯s eyes flicked over to the practice weapons. Tom had already factored them in, while the other boy was closer to them, he was pretty sure he was susceptible to Spark. Stun locking him for two seconds would be enough for him to finish a death match. If he had managed to convince Kang to condemn Briana, then Tom would have been the only person leaving the room alive. ¡°Good, that was a test. We¡¯re not hurting her. But it also means we can¡¯t afford to tell Dimitri.¡± ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°I wish. Standard policy is to give us the choice, but¡­¡± Kang lowered his eyes, an anguished expression on his face. They all knew the pressure of the competition, and the feeling of what was one person¡¯s life or ethics against the suffering of a billion. ¡°Is that really the policy?¡± He nodded sadly. ¡°I fear it is. Corrine kind of implied she had seen it play out before.¡± The larger boy inhaled sharply and shut his eyes for a moment. ¡°Well, we¡¯re not doing it.¡± ¡°Not a chance,¡± Tom agreed. ¡°Which really limits our options.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we get an artefact to protect her mind or something like that?¡± ¡°I wish, but that¡¯s not an option, according to Corrine. We¡¯re in a waiting game. We either try to convince her we¡¯re not reincarnators...¡± ¡°Let¡¯s do that.¡± Kang said instantly. ¡°You didn¡¯t hear the other option.¡± ¡°Flood the zone with shit. It makes sense.¡± Kang retorted. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what the other option is, this one will work, so we should do it.¡± ¡°Or we tell her everything and hope that allows our titles to protect us.¡± ¡°Nope. Unless that¡¯s a guaranteed option, gaslighting her is better,¡± Kang said simply. ¡°And if it was a better option, you wouldn¡¯t have bothered mentioning the gaslighting. So that¡¯s what¡¯s we¡¯re doing.¡± He finished calmly and with complete conviction. ¡°How would we go about doing that? This is Bri. She¡¯s smart.¡± ¡°It¡¯s easy.¡± Kang said dismissively. ¡°You don¡¯t even need good acting skills. Especially if there are two of us working together. We just need to keep repeating our alternative facts. For example, you can say to me that my hours spent practicing those hard words paid off. Or that Eloise was only able to defeat her because she¡¯s the real reincarnator. How could Briana beat a genuine reincarnator at obstacle courses? Throw enough shit and it¡¯ll stick. Trust me, I¡¯ve seen it work before.¡± ¡°She can¡¯t.¡± Tom couldn¡¯t help but point out. If either of them took it seriously, they would smash her best time by fifty percent. Kang smiled and rolled his eyes. ¡°But she does. She thrashes you and beats me most of the time. That¡¯s evidence. We just keep pushing those points. It¡¯ll be easy.¡± ¡°Or we can tell her the truth.¡± ¡°What did Corrine think?¡± Kang asked in response. Tom remembered the conversation. While she had been hopeful at times, mostly she had looked haunted. ¡°I¡¯m not sure she thought either method will work.¡± ¡°Briana is six. If we can convince her that the moons are made of cheese by accident, we can make her doubt her conclusions about as esoteric a topic as us being reincarnators. Given how bad you are at everything physical, it should be an easy sell.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, Kang. It doesn¡¯t feel right to me.¡± ¡°Leave the talking to me.¡± ¡°Fine. But, Kang¡­ be strategic with the fate use. Don¡¯t use it to try to change her mind, because that won¡¯t work. Our fate, for the time, being has to be directed to stopping her from being mind-read for long enough.¡± ¡°Yeah, I figured. Can you go make sure Corrine keeps her mouth shut?¡± ¡°No problems.¡± Tom said, and, a moment later, he was standing on blue grass once more. Chapter 93 – Domains The unpleasantly smelling biome and the slight chill in the air did nothing to calm his roiling emotions. Kang had been so confident about his ability to change Briana¡¯s mind, and that attitude made no sense to him. Kang was going to be confusing her deliberately and making her believe an alternative reality; Tom understood the need, but it didn¡¯t make him feel good to be part of the deception. He summoned a construct to find Corrine and then informed her perfunctorily of their choice. He was rude, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind. She grabbed him and hugged him tightly. ¡°It¡¯s for the best, Tom. I know you don¡¯t like the concept, but this is the right call. If Kang¡¯s as confident as he¡¯s implying, then you¡¯ll get out of this fine. Children¡¯s minds at that age are infinitely malleable.¡± Eventually, the claustrophobia of being held by her was too much, so he excused himself and fled. His wandering feet brought him into a training room. A moment later, he was locked in and guaranteed absolute privacy for as long as he needed it. After confirming that knife-throwing only came with a penalty of sixty percent, he decided to get some practice. A table filled with knives appeared, along with wooden dummies set up against the walls. He set to work. Thunk The knife shivered where it was embedded over an inch into the wood. It was right where the heart of the misshapen creature was most likely to be. A good, solid throw, especially for a warmup. He grabbed another one, focused momentarily on his form, and released. This one spun half a rotation too far, and thudded, hilt-first, into the wood. It failed to cut in, and clattered onto the floor after bouncing away. He didn¡¯t care about perfection. This was focused solely on pursuing the release of pressure from physical activity. Barely restrained violence was calming. Thunk He picked up a fourth knife, and the only reason he bothered with form was that the extra release of force was soothing. Thunk, Thunk Knife after knife was thrown as he released his tension. Whenever Tom wasn¡¯t looking, the training room cleaned up after him. A target that was bristling with weapons was refreshed in the moment, and, when he reached for a knife, there was always one waiting for him. It was meditative, even if it made for substandard training. Half an hour later, he left the room regretfully, and, with Kang next to him, met Briana for dinner. There was a flood of memories with the transition as always, but they were distant, unimportant, and not critical, so he mostly ignored it. Tom tried to give Briana an encouraging grin as they lined up to get food, but she ignored it. If he was forced to assess her body language, he would have said she was treating the two of them like they were adults. This attitude was, he supposed, pretty sensible, given the circumstances. While she didn¡¯t try to separate herself, she was withdrawn and quiet. The whole time her lips were moving slightly, and, try as he might, he couldn¡¯t tell what she was saying. She was muttering something under her breath continuously. It was both disturbing and creepy. Unable to interpret any syllables, he counted the cadence instead as they sat to begin eating. Between mouthfuls, her lips moved, and she was repeating the same thing. If he could just¡­ Then he caught it. He swallowed heavily. She was pretending calm while her eyes glistened. She was trying to interact like everything was normal, but why did she repeat the words under her breath? The same ones, continuously, like a lost and despairing child. But it wasn¡¯t a stranger. This was Bri, and she was breaking. ¡®Don¡¯t talk. Don¡¯t ask. Don¡¯t question.¡¯ And the secondary context hit him in the guts. What she was really saying, pretend not to know. Pretend everything continues as normal and probably in her head. Don¡¯t create more Ba¡¯s. He felt like crying. Kang appeared completely oblivious to her mood, but Tom had seen him enough to know it wasn¡¯t true. However, that wasn¡¯t going to stop him from implementing their plan. ¡°The joke I played was pretty funny, wasn¡¯t it?¡± From his spot seated between them, he nudged them both. ¡°It totally fooled Bri.¡± Next to him, she shrank away and looked like she wanted to disappear into the ground. The patterns her lip were making became more pronounced to the point that he could lip read them clearly. ¡°It took absolutely ages to learn how to say those words. I had to get volunteer help and everything.¡± Briana looked at him. Her eyes were frosty. They narrowed. ¡°When?¡± ¡°What was that?¡± Kang asked. ¡°When? When did you get time to do that?¡± She looked up at him defiantly. ¡°An hour a day, every day for two weeks.¡± Anguish crossed her face. She looked like she wanted to cradle her head in her hands, but she resisted the impulse and shook her head in response. ¡°No, no. I don¡¯t believe you - there was no time.¡± Kang laughed. He was like the consummate professional actor, and his performance was flawless. It was all fake, but Tom could only tell as much because he was looking for it. ¡°Sometimes it was in the mornings, before you got up, and other times during the day.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°You know the time I missed the obstacle course? That was a lesson.¡± ¡°You said you were going to axe-training.¡± ¡°I lied. It was worth it. A great joke. You should have seen your face.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense. You couldn¡¯t have known.¡± ¡°Eventually, you were always going to ask for help again. I actually expected to get a few more weeks of practice. You surprised me.¡± Her lips continued to move silently, though she was hiding it better once more. Tom could see the beat of the mantra, but if he didn¡¯t know it from earlier, there was no way he could have guessed. He focused on his dinner as Kang expounded on the lies, talked about the effort he did and deflected all of her questions. ¡°You knew, didn¡¯t you, Tom?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he answered stiffly. ¡°I told you that it wouldn¡¯t work.¡± ¡°But you were wrong, because it did.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°I¡¯m a reincarnator,¡± he whispered so only the three of them could hear, and then he laughed like it was the best joke in the world. ¡°Ha, ha. You should have seen your two faces. This is too easy.¡± Briana and he made eye contact, and he could see her confusion. There was already confusion there. Despite her attempts to keep pretending everything was normal, she couldn¡¯t do it. She edged further away from them, and tilted her body like she was no longer in their group. Kang pretended not to notice, and Tom decided he didn¡¯t like the other reincarnator very much. The behaviour was too familiar. He was calm, controlled, and apparently gifted at being manipulative. His use of shadow magic to deceive his opponent in combat had never really gelled with the rest of Kang¡¯s personality, but after seeing him work on Briana, it began to make a lot more sense. At heart, he wasn¡¯t as calm and straightforward as Tom had thought. Then he felt like an idiot for not realising this earlier. This side of the other boy had never been hidden. It was just that, when it was used previously, it had been more subtle and in areas Tom had deemed worthwhile. It had been Kang, not him, who had influenced Briana into training as hard as she did at both her magic and her athletic pursuits. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Dessert included fresh jelly cake and vanilla ice cream, which was his favourite combination, but Tom couldn¡¯t bring himself to stay in the present just to eat it. With a silent apology to Briana, he fled into his new system room and then out onto the blue grass of the champion¡¯s common area. Corrine was waiting for him, and she ran over and engulfed him in a hug. ¡°Why are you here?¡± he asked when he extracted himself. She grinned lopsidedly at him. ¡°I wasn¡¯t about to let you be all fucking sulky and morose by yourself. I¡¯d be a pretty bad friend if I did that wouldn¡¯t I.¡± ¡°I expected you to be at dinner.¡± ¡°You too, Tom. You¡¯re supposed to be eating too. But I figured you would skip out at some point.¡± Tom sighed. He couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°Yeah, I couldn¡¯t do it anymore. I¡¯ve never seen her have that expression. She was so confused, hurt, and uncertain.¡± Corrine frowned. ¡°It¡¯s better than the alternative.¡± ¡°It sucks, and she kept half miming. Don¡¯t ask. Don¡¯t say. Don¡¯t question. If you didn¡¯t know what she was saying, you couldn¡¯t tell, but fuck it hurts to watch.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fucked up,¡± she agreed. ¡°Do you know where Vturalta is?¡± ¡°There is no need. I cancelled your lecture.¡± ¡°Why would you do that?¡± ¡°Why the fuck do you think, Tom?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± ¡°Yeah, oh.¡± She ruffled his hair. ¡°So, what should I do instead?¡± he asked. ¡°Chat, fight, talk. I don¡¯t fucking know, I¡¯m not your mum. Is there anything you want to do? Some knowledge you¡¯d like to get?¡± Tom recognised the offer underlying the question. She was willing to expose herself to make him feel better. If he pushed for more information about the past human champions, or to hear firsthand how a kid was apparently killed to protect a reincarnator, he was sure she was going to answer despite the personal pain. ¡°What do you know about domains?¡± he asked instead. ¡°Domains? I know fuck-all about domains. Never had one. But I¡¯m hoping to get this fire, wind, inferno combination that Vturalta showed me. You?¡± ¡°I made an earth one, once.¡± ¡°In the tutorial?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Fuck, Tom. Didn¡¯t you only live in Existentia for a year?¡± He shrugged. ¡°I had both help and inspiration to get me over the line. But I want a better one this time.¡± ¡°Was the one you got bad? I mean, bad for a domain, because all domains are great.¡± ¡°No, it was amazing, but it was too restrictive for what I want from this life. I want a multi-purpose solution that consolidates all my skills together.¡± She paused. ¡°Including spear? Because that seems a little like wishful thinking.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s possible, but with what research I¡¯ve managed, it isn¡¯t.¡± Corrine tapped her feet on the blue grass thoughtfully. ¡°Can someone get me Vturalta, Hossi, and Rambord, and bring them to a meeting room?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know who they are.¡± Tom started and then stopped talking and followed her gaze. Two humanoid constructs had appeared. They left silently. ¡°One of those three is obviously not here.¡± Corrine concluded. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s not keep them waiting to long.¡± ¡°Waiting? What do you mean?¡± he asked as he rushed after her. ¡°You¡¯ll see. They¡¯re open contestants.¡± They hurried to the meeting room and when they got there, Vturalta was in her tub of water, and there was another octopus-like person present. It was smaller than Tom himself, and clearly not the same species as Vturalta, both because of its lack of size and the fact it was not a water-based animal, but had instead evolved for dry land. The tentacles appeared more like leather, but moved with deadly precision. ¡°Ah, Rambord,¡± Corrine said happily. ¡°Thank you for joining us. I¡¯m very happy you¡¯re available.¡± ¡°It was the least I could do. You¡¯ve never asked for my help before,¡± the female octopus said. ¡°It was only right that I responded. What do you need us for?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± she said brightly. ¡°But Tom has some questions.¡± Quickly, he explained the issue he was facing: that he was aware of the bonus of the fourth-class, and that he was hoping all of his effort could consolidate into a single domain to allow him to get the most out of the title bonus. ¡°Ambitious,¡± Vturalta observed in amusement. ¡°Impossible,¡± Rambord told him. ¡°Damn,¡± Tom cursed. He had thought that was the case, but part of him had hoped there was something he had missed. ¡°Well, almost impossible.¡± He looked up at that hopefully. ¡°Do you want to answer him, Vturalta?¡± The armoured octopus waved her tentacles in disagreement. ¡°No. You¡¯re better at explaining things than I am.¡± Rambord scooted closer, leaving her chair so that she was on the table. When she tucked her tentacles in, she was the size of an average dog. Tom suspected that he outweighed her. Kang and Corrine definitely did. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed for the shop that, as a rule, domains don¡¯t like doing multiple things.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tom agreed. ¡°I can see domains that boost all elemental magic, but nothing that¡¯s tailored for just earth and lightning.¡± ¡°That makes a lot of sense, since those two elements are not closely related to each other. That¡¯s the opposite of Corrine¡¯s natural affinities. Her fire and wind are complementary, with inferno bridging the gap. I¡¯ve seen earth and water act similarly by adding mud into the mix, but what¡¯s a combination of lightning and earth?¡± ¡°There isn¡¯t anything.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my point. But you aren¡¯t quite right. There is an Earth, Metal, Lightning combination, but in practice, it turns out to be more metal and lightning with a hazy link to earth. As you¡¯re well aware, most rocks and crystals are not conductive to electricity. Some are, but not all. Given your earth magic is more rock-flavoured than metal, I wouldn¡¯t go down that path.¡± The day, Tom decided, was not getting any better. ¡°Then what am I going to do?¡± The octopus on the table turned red, which was its equivalent of chuckling. ¡°Luckily for you, I have the answer. Basically, you want a buffing or synergetic domain.¡± ¡°What are they?¡± Rambord lifted herself off the table, and a text appeared on the space she had freed up. ¡°They¡¯re broader than the ones you¡¯re used to, and generally, according to face value, weaker. But remember, the GODs balance everything to be even. Just because you think something sucks doesn¡¯t mean it does.¡± Tom read the text, conscious of her warning. Skill: Exceptional Offense Buffing Domain ¨C Tier 8 Provides an area of control that gives a percentage boost to the damage of all skills and spells originating from within it. At level one it provides a 2m sphere around you and increases damage by 27%. ¡°I guess that¡¯s good.¡± Tom said doubtfully. With it his attacks would get a third stronger, but it wasn¡¯t something to get excited about, given it was tier-eight. ¡°For the right person, this is a great domain. It also scales better than the domains you are used to. For this one at level four, for example, the power of the domain has tripled. For an adventurer who is a jack of all trades and a master of none, this is perfect. It¡¯s probably not right for you, but it¡¯s an example of what you can get.¡± The text on the table changed. Skill: Exceptional Buffing Domain ¨C Tier 9 Provides an area of control that gives a flat percentage boost to the damage of all skills and spells originating from within it, also improves all defensive abilities. At level one, it works on a 3m sphere around you and increases damage by 26% and defensive abilities by 85%. This one Tom liked, despite himself. There was, however, one problem. ¡°That¡¯s tier-nine. It¡¯d cost me thirteen thousand coins to get. There¡¯s no way I can afford something like that.¡± ¡°Correct, and, to be honest, I¡¯m not sure it¡¯ll suit you, anyway. Those are lazy people domains. They work with everything, but the skill threshold needed to use them is not high. This is what I¡¯d recommend for you.¡± Skill: Basic Adaptive Domain ¨C Tier 6 Creates an area of space around you that acts as a proxy for your own body. With time an effort spells and skills can be incorporated into the domain, and will receive a slight buff when you do so. ¡°I know it seems lacklustre,¡± Rambord told him immediately. ¡°But it only costs five hundred coins.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a slight buff?¡± Tom asked. The octopus flashed purple green to show shame and worry. ¡°Remember, the GODs balance everything.¡± ¡°What is it? Just spit it out.¡± Tom interrupted. ¡°Only one or two percent.¡± ¡°Are you serious? I know it¡¯s tier-six, but that¡¯s twenty times weaker than the Offensive Buffing Domain.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the downside. Initially, it¡¯s the weakest domain you can get. But it makes up for that with the flexibility it gives.¡± ¡°But if that¡¯s the benefit, wouldn¡¯t I be better off getting a lightning domain? That would buff a third of my offense by fifty percent, which is an immediate improvement of fifteen percent. That¡¯s a lot higher than two.¡± ¡°As I¡¯ve said, this is about flexibility. You can grow this domain rapidly to cover tens of metres, and, once you¡¯ve assimilated, I mean incorporated, a spell, you originate your cast from anywhere within the domain. Your Spark spell instantly has a range of ten metres plus, but the real beauty is, the same thing applies to Instant Strike. That means that you¡¯re no longer limited to a cone around your own weapon. That flexibility is huge, especially when you get more and more abilities.¡± ¡°That does make it sound a lot better,¡± he admitted. ¡°Then, when you receive your fourth class and everything you do had been done via the domain for years, the bonus you¡¯ll get will be huge. You could have the spell count at a hundred percent, and you¡¯ve seen how exponentially that title scales. I don¡¯t know what would be added, but in raw terms, it will definitely be more powerful than the generic buffing domains. The key difference is that this domain becomes your only ability, while with typical domains all your skills and spells remain separate. I guess if you¡¯re not aiming for a fourth class, it is not as good, but your being a competitor species changes everything, since it means you have permanent access to a full experience shop. This means that usually unobtainable outcomes like a fourth class become possible.¡± Tom understood exactly what she was saying. It would be a long journey, but the bonus that the fourth-class title could give him under those circumstances probably made up for the initial weakness of the domain. ¡°The real benefit from this is the amount that you¡¯ll be using the domain. It greatly increases the chance of an evolution, not to mention the levels you can gain in it. Within a decade, it wouldn¡¯t be unreasonable to see the base damage increase to five percent. That only requires a level of ten or so.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s the best option for me?¡± ¡°Tom, there is no best. This domain suits you, and it¡¯s what I recommend you get.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll definitely consider it.¡± Rambord was not offended by his obvious resistance to the advice. ¡°Check the shop. Do your own research. Now that you know the concept, check and double check to see if there¡¯s anything better. What I do know is that, in this case, you¡¯re better off buying the domain rather than trying to develop it from first principals. Keep creating abilities, but the power of being in the champion¡¯s trial or the competition, is that the shop can be used to close the holes in your build. You don¡¯t need to go down the infinite wormhole that trying to develop this domain yourself would be. Use the shop like the strategic resource it is.¡± Chapter 94 – Anger Complications Another day had passed, and Tom had to force himself to spend time in his real body. It was often a struggle to watch what was happening without reacting. He was both lucky and cursed by the fact that Kang was in the picture. The larger boy seemed to have a preternatural sense of timing. Most of the time, he was normal and then only occasionally would he slip in lies to confuse Briana; but when he acted the barbs dug deep. They were standing around the dodge pits. ¡°Who do you think will do the best in this round. Tom?¡± Kang laughed like that suggestion was the funniest one out there. ¡°Me, or you, or maybe Briana with her fancy water step?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a water step.¡± ¡°But I have a Quick Step, so I must be a reincarnator. Which means I¡¯ll be killed like Ba. Because of you, Briana, you asked, you questioned.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ it wasn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a reincarnator, but the assassins are going to think I am. I don¡¯t want to die.¡± ¡°Kang!¡± he yelled at the other boy. ¡°That¡¯s going too far.¡± Tears filled her eyes as she struggled to respond. In the end, the fight instinct lost to the flight one. She ran away from Kang straight into her pit, and then froze, uncertain about what to do. She was looking past Kang to the door out of the gym. The combat dummy activated, and she didn¡¯t notice. ¡°Briana, watch out,¡± he yelled. To his horror she looked up at him instead of the mass of wood and leather coming at her from the side. It swung hard and delivered a big strike to her midsection. Magic acted to spread the blow in order to limit damage, but she was still knocked out of the ring, tumbling like a rag doll until she came to rest. It was not right. Tom felt the rising anger. Kang had caused this maliciously. He stared at the larger boy with hatred. It was his fault! The logic centres in Tom¡¯s mind fired. He recognised the signs and the situation and attempted to step into his system room to escape. Nothing happened. Part of him, the bit that was staring at Kang like he was an affront to reality, didn¡¯t want to go, so the effort failed. His fault, he had to pay; the thought reverberated in his brain. ¡°Kang, protect yourself,¡± he growled, doing the best he could to help while dealing with the out-of-control emotions. It was better if Tom lost, because he didn¡¯t know if the unhinged part of him would stop after it gained the advantage. With the enhanced attributes that came with the crazy anger, he knew that he could break bone. There was a real risk of going too far. The stolen words made the pit in his stomach burn brighter. This man, and Kang was a man, despite his body, had been picking on a little kid, using his intellect to hurt her. Yes, he had not physically struck her, but it didn¡¯t make it right. It was wrong, unjust. The bigger boy had turned to face him, and his posture was wary. ¡°Tom,¡± he raised a hand like one would do to try to calm the situation down. A bully who was very free with his damaging words but now wanted to be a coward and avoid a fight. Tom wished he had a spear. A real one. They were useful for situations like this. Plus, he had electricity, and he had his fists. It would be much more satisfying to bash the arrogance out of him than to rely on magic. If the physical approach failed, then he would electrocute him into submission. ¡°Tom,¡± Kang warned him again, this time with a more stressed edge. That bastard had been negging her all day, and he had caused her to freeze up in the pit. He was responsible for her injuries. There was no time for words. The world demanded action. He charged, and was acutely aware of how Kang was standing. The idiot hadn¡¯t even shifted into a proper fighting stance. Tom calculated the angles, and he knew all the specifications of Quick Step. There was only one direction he could go. Tom could predict his ending location to within a few centimetres. Within him, the ball of anger purred. He feinted a strike at his opponent¡¯s head and Quick Step made his opponent vanish from in front of him exactly as predicted. There was no hesitation from Tom. Everything had been calculated beforehand, and he was already kicking at where he was forecasting his enemy to appear. His kick struck Kang on the thigh with the full weight behind him. Power coursed through Tom, and the bigger boy was lifted off the ground. Clinically, Tom noted that this time his strength must have been boosted by at least a factor of three. Tom pounced, moving faster than Kang could recover. The other boy landed on his back and tried to spring acrobatically to his feet, but it was too late. Tom¡¯s fist slammed into his face. Red sprayed. It was immeasurably satisfying. He threw another blow, and there was a pleasant cracking sound. He was winning, and would crush his enemy into submission. There was no need to taint the victory by cheating with magic. A heavy force struck him from behind and sent him tumbling away from his target. Furious indignation welled up from within him. Tom didn¡¯t understand what had hit him. They had been alone in the room, and Briana hadn¡¯t looked capable of reaching him and even if she did, she lacked the strength to have sent him sprawling away like that. The muscles along his back protested the need for movement, but he rose from where he had landed and spun to deal with whatever had made itself his enemy. He immediately saw the problem. There was a combat dummy active in the pit and it had almost thrown him clear; it was like what had happened to Briana. If that had happened, it would have reset the fight. Tom was glad its sucker blow had partially failed. He had payback to deliver. Red filled his vision. His logical mind recognised that Kang had activated the duel before he had attacked. Kang had been knocked into the ring by the kick, and then Tom had followed. The dummy wasn¡¯t interfering as such and just doing what it was supposed to, but the red haze was in full control. The original object of his ire was forgotten, and he charged the dummy. He screamed in fury and swung his fists and legs. The combat dummy, Tom knew, was designed to be dodged not fought with. It was high-tier and nigh-on indestructible, even for someone twenty ranks higher than him. He didn¡¯t care, he just tried to hit hard, and then he ignored the retaliatory strikes it launched. The magic of the pit was protecting him, but that could only go so far, and it only had juice to limit the impact of the first few strikes. He felt ribs crack as it repeatedly struck his open, undefended torso. He didn¡¯t mind. He needed to crush it, and was happy to exchange blows to do so. Another hit staggered him, but he got to his feet. The fight was not over. When it came for him, he kicked it hard. It felt like his shin broke against its magically reinforced wooden body. Then it grabbed him and launched him. He tumbled and crashed into the wall.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Tom tried to rise, and failed. He needed to kill what had hurt him, but knew it was futile. The combat dummy was an order of magnitude stronger than him. He couldn¡¯t defeat it. The hot ball of anger seeped away into nothing. The fight went out of him, and sanity returned. Vividly he recalled his hand smashing into Kang¡¯s face, and he hoped he had not killed the boy, and he wanted to check, but the complaints of his body were too real and prevented the attempt before it even started. He assessed the damage. He had mid to high levels of shock, three broken ribs, a cracked tibia, two shattered knuckles, significant bruising. Nothing that was life threatening, though. He fixed his wonky blood pressure and negated the cocktail of chemicals his battered body had released to let itself function. Painfully, he got to his feet and prayed he had not hurt Kang too badly. The bastard had deserved it, but Tom also knew he shouldn¡¯t have lost control like that. He should have recognised the emerging issue sooner. His rush to reach the other boy, Tom discovered, was unnecessary. Kang was standing once more. ¡°Good pretend-fight,¡± the other boy said and then spat a wad of red saliva onto the wooden floor. A little more of the viscous liquid dribbled down his chin. Briana was looking wide eyed at him, and Tom wondered how much of their effort over the last week had just evaporated due to his moment of madness. ¡°Lucky hit.¡± Kang said with forced cheerfulness. He wiped the blood from his chin. ¡°Your skinny arms can certainly pack a wallop. But trust me, I can hardly feel it. It looks worse than it is.¡± Then, while clearly trying not to limp Kang shuffled to the healing crystal. The expression on his face when the magical energy started flowing told Tom just how much damage his four seconds of madness had caused. Tom shut his eyes and slumped back against the wall. Internally, his mana went to fixing himself up. Briana left. Kang hesitated before doing the same. It was clear he wanted to come over and talk, but obviously realised how suspicious that would look to any observers. They had fought, so the sensible thing was to go their separate ways. There was not much to do until his mana regenerated, and that took time. While he waited, he left for the champion¡¯s trial and was relieved that Corrine, as was often the case, was waiting for him. She immediately picked up on his mood. And the happy greeting switched to a look of concern. ¡°Tom? Tom, what happened?¡± ¡°I screwed up.¡± He kicked the ground hard enough that his leg hurt. He remembered Kang¡¯s bloody face. ¡°Fucked up big time.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not that bad. Tell me everything?¡± Trying to be concise, he recounted the entire interaction. She patted him on the shoulder. ¡°I see. Rage boy strikes again.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t joke. It¡¯s not funny.¡± ¡°Why? I know it¡¯s a curse of something, but it¡¯s still funny. You¡¯re so controlled, and then you go off and blow a gasket over something small. Provided there¡¯s no long-term issues, it¡¯s funny.¡± ¡°Yeah, I suppose it is.¡± Tom agreed readily enough. They sat in silence, and his mind kept replaying the entire interaction over and over again. The same thought kept getting to him. If he hadn¡¯t been knocked into the pit, if that hadn¡¯t occurred, he didn¡¯t think he would have stopped. His fists had been cracking bone. With a few more punches, they would have gone through the skull. Kang would have been dead. It was a sobering thought, and it was shocking how completely the rage had consumed him. But for the intervention of a dumb machine, the other boy would have died. It was horrifying. But for dumb luck, he shuddered at his imagination and not for the first time since he sat down next to Corrine. But for dumb luck¡­ well, it was probably more than that, since community fate was in play. But, if not for that, Kang would have died. It didn¡¯t bear thinking about. ¡°I need to blow off some steam.¡± He declared abruptly. Corrine sprang to her feet. ¡°Here? Do you want help?¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°I think my mana¡¯s probably recharged and the dodge pit gymnasium is empty.¡± ¡°You go train. Let the anger out ¨C and, Tom, if you can, try to enjoy yourself.¡± With the room emptied, and, after the healing was finished, Tom completed a couple more pit runs to improve his Danger Sense. The curse that had somehow hitched a ride into this new life was causing problems. It had objected to Kang¡¯s behaviour and caught him off guard. He was at fault. This was something that Tom should definitely have predicted. There was a solution. Going forward, he was going to need to treat his system room as a strategic resource. If he felt even a glimmer of anger or thought the situation might devolve into something ugly, he would need to retreat immediately. It would suck, but he had to do it. When it was time for dinner, he finished up his training and met up with them just as they were lining up. Kang said nothing about the earlier incident, but he kept going with his gaslighting. The whole time they were in the line and as they started eating, he continued to harass her. Tom saw Briana¡¯s lips move and a moment later he was on the blue grass again. He couldn¡¯t afford to have a breakdown at dinner. Corrine was instantly next to him to give him a hug to support him. She was spending almost more time than he was in the divine champion trial, and not because she had to. It was purely so she could be there when needed. ¡°Hang in there.¡± She told him. ¡°It¡¯s hard.¡± ¡°What did he do this time?¡± Tom sighed and decided to recount the latest issue he had run from. ¡°Briana started it, this time. I think, because of the earlier fight, she was back to focusing on me being a reincarnator. She asked how I knew to talk about physics. Before I could work out a response, Kang interrupted. ¡®Briana, even I knew that. It was raised in a lecture two weeks ago.¡¯ She just looked blankly at him. ¡®You probably weren¡¯t paying attention because it was boring, but it was the one on how farmers get our food and water magic is one of their skills. He did a little speech about using water for movement purposes. If you were awake, you would have known.¡¯¡± Tom stopped talking, remembering how Briana had reacted. He did not want to focus too deeply on the systemic way Kang was making her doubt her own memories. ¡°She reacted, unsurprisingly, in her confused, helpless, angry way.¡± he said. ¡°What Kang does is depraved or brilliant, depending on how you want to view it.¡± Tom rested his head on his hand and covered his eyes. For a moment, he was back in that moment. ¡°It¡¯s horrible.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say.¡± Corrine rubbed his shoulder awkwardly. ¡°I think I want to stop him.¡± ¡°Tom, I know you don¡¯t want to hear this, but it¡¯s your life on the line. It sucks, but you have to do it. Because of her age, I¡¯m not sure the honesty option even exists. This, unfortunately, is for the best. Can you imagine the impact it would have on her if you went down that path, and it failed?¡± ¡°I know.¡± He said with his eyes watering. ¡°I know that. But it didn¡¯t end there. She argued with him, told him he was wrong, and Kang was like. ¡®There¡¯s no shame in falling asleep. I do it too.¡¯ And she¡¯s like. ¡®But I don¡¯t fall asleep¡¯ and his response was ¡®You definitely shut your eyes and you don¡¯t remember the conversation, so what would you call it?¡¯ Then she turned to me and I had to back Kang up.¡± Corrine hugged him tightly. ¡°I know. It¡¯s hard, but you have to do it. Do you want to try to kill me to get your mind off things?¡± Tom snorted. ¡°No, you¡¯ll just crush me like always.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t use magic.¡± ¡°Like that helps me.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t even use my magic shield.¡± She grinned at him. ¡°Come on, I know you want to.¡± He imagined clipping her with Spark; her paralysed form falling helplessly to the ground, and then him plunging his spear into her chest, yanking it out, and seeing the spurt of red that would come with it. Corrine dying beneath him as her hands fruitlessly tried to stem that wound. ¡°No, I definitely don¡¯t desire that. With a GOD¡¯s shield active, I think it¡¯s probably a lot easier to die than to kill.¡± ¡°True.¡± After a long silence, she nudged him. ¡°Then what do you want to do?¡± He was holding a club that he was busily optimising the internal composition to make it stronger. The feedback he had been getting from everyone was positive, so he didn¡¯t want to stop. He looked at her: ¡°Um, can we just¡­ um¡­ I don¡¯t know. Chat?¡± ¡°I can do that.¡± For the next hour, she kept his mind off things, talking once more about her plans for her graduation. It included a trip to some wasp fields. She rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Yes, yes. It¡¯s where the heroes of humanity started. Do you feel special now?¡± ¡°No, just happy you¡¯re making the effort.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she tapped her head knowingly. ¡°Lots of normal kids do it as a rite of passage. To be just like the mighty Tom.¡± He was pleased to hear that. A lot of other people were apparently using the same method he had accidentally discovered to get the vitality font title. They couldn¡¯t know why they were doing it, of course, but the orphanage had clearly discovered a way to guide them to attempting it, which didn¡¯t disable the reward. It was the attention to detail, every step of the way, that amazed him. The advantage the orphanage was giving its graduates was not small. In the real world, dinner was over. He rejoined his body and went through the motions. If he was being honest with himself, he would have preferred to be chatting with Corrine, as currently being around either Kang or Briana made his skin crawl, but he kept it up for appearance¡¯s sake. His attempts at earning a fate generating skill continued, but instead of using a full forty mana each day to seed progress, he had reduced his expenditure to only five or six. He even felt guilty about dedicating that tiny amount to a task other than staying alive. It was worth it, however. Now, when he moved suddenly, or fell, or was about to be hurt, he could feel a familiar flex that excited him. He went to bed equal parts excited about and dreading the future. The next day, straight after the morning reading lessons, the entire class milled around excitedly. There was another special instructor to teach them. This one was teaching basics of aerial combat. Tom couldn¡¯t understand why they were doing it. None of the kids were going to acquire flying skills for years, and it was not like gear was a ready replacement for abilities. Even for this special class, there were only four sets to practice with, and they were cheap versions - too slow to be used in an actual battle. But Dimitri had told them to do it and it would be fun, so they all lined up excitedly. Chapter 95 – Local Aid They watched the first lucky, or potentially unlucky, four put on the gear and begin their flying lessons. The rest of them had been ordered to stay in the corner of the gym - so that was what they did, and clustered together in a disorganised mess. Kang acted gregariously, just like he had been doing since the incident. He had a broad smile on his face and was interacting with everyone around. He pointed at a girl, who, despite looking terrified, in Tom¡¯s opinion, was spinning around and doing the occasional flips as she tried to stay alive on her flying artefact. She might have been screaming the entire time, but her control was remarkable. ¡°She¡¯s so good.¡± Kang declared. ¡°Like brilliant good.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± the boy he was talking to agreed. ¡°Do you think she¡¯s a reincarnator?¡± Kang whispered. Next to him Briana squealed in frustration and kicked the larger boy in the back of the leg. ¡°What¡¯s that for?¡± Kang asked, pretending to sound confused. ¡°You can¡¯t say that?¡± ¡°Say what?¡± Briana stared at him, horrified. ¡°You know. You aren¡¯t allowed to ask if someone thinks she¡¯s a reincarnator.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t talk. Don¡¯t ask. Don¡¯t question.¡± She repeated firmly. ¡°They¡¯re the rules. They¡¯re not to be broken.¡± ¡°But you did all those things.¡± Kang said innocently. Her face went red, and, before Tom could fully react, she rushed off. He monitored his internal anger carefully. It had increased, but, after assessing it, he decided it was not quite enough to force him to flee. He couldn¡¯t afford to go into a rage, but his outburst yesterday helped. Both the likelihood and the potential power of the rage seemed to increase depending on how much time has passed since it had been triggered previously. That was an insight that he had to exploit. Tom wondered what he could do in that space. If he told Corrine and Kang, they could coordinate to triggering him deliberately . Especially Kang. It was a solution that he would look into implementing. With those two actively helping, he might be able to fully mitigate the impact of the curse. Silence had descended in the wake of both Briana¡¯s accusation and her subsequent storming off to the bathroom. Kang was now the centre of attention. The large boy shrugged, then smirked. ¡°I don¡¯t know what her problem is. Maybe she¡¯s the reincarnator.¡± Tom said nothing, but he leapt at the opportunity to be the next into the flying harness, if only to distract himself. He ramped up the amount of lightning coursing through his body before taking off. Then it was a fun struggle to manage his flight while his limbs were twitching erratically. All too soon, he crashed into the wall. Emergency healing from the instructor fixed up his nose before it had a chance to bleed more than a few drops. However, he reactivated the artefact and kept going. When their time ran out and he landed, Kang was laughing with all the other children. ¡°Tom¡¯s clearly not a reincarnator - did you see that crash? So clumsy.¡± ¡°I was not clumsy,¡± he yelled by reflex. ¡°The harness was defective.¡± ¡°You were the worst. I guess flying, like dodging, is not your thing.¡± Everyone laughed at him, and Kang looked very pleased with himself. The words, while malicious on the surface level, were not so. Briana was back, and she was the one who the comment was directed at. Seeding doubt about his competency in her mind was just smart. He could see the anger and vulnerability warring in her eyes. ¡°It was one crash.¡± ¡°Two.¡± Kang corrected. ¡°One proper crash,¡± he pretended to pout. ¡°One slip-up.¡± He could have got going and really got into a rant, but he couldn¡¯t be bothered. This was as good a moment as any other to retreat into the system room. The physical training was done, and he didn¡¯t need to be here for the words. Plus, Briana was starting to look properly upset, and there was no way he was risking another episode - especially not in front of so many witnesses. Another week passed with the same routine and two more losses in his sanctioned duels. His wire frame had grown to be about twice the size of the standard ritual one he was making in April¡¯s trials, but, according to Throm, it was only half-done. He had been working on it for almost four weeks, and after he completed it, he guessed it would be another two months before he had memorised it well enough to create the disks. Only then would he be able to start gaining coins to buy stuff from the GOD¡¯s shop to make himself stronger, because the traditional method of winning duels seemed to be beyond him. Not that waiting four months was necessarily bad. He had almost two Earth-years guaranteed in the bucket, and, once he mastered the disk, earning eight plus coins per week would be a better income than even that of those who operated under a partial GOD¡¯s shield. He wasn¡¯t going to earn as much as those couple of people who fought without a GOD¡¯s shield, but it was still a lot. Or, at least, he hoped so. There was a flicker of movement to his left, and he spun around. He smiled, unbidden. Corrine sat down next to him, and she appeared exhausted. ¡°You¡¯re back.¡± ¡°Not for long. We have twenty minutes to eat and rest, so I decided to check in here. I¡¯m fucking wrecked.¡± ¡°How¡¯s the survival training?¡± ¡°More brutal than I¡¯ve expected it to be, but that¡¯s a good thing. It will definitely save the lives of anyone who takes up the adventuring lifestyle.¡± She frowned. ¡°The instructor is very thorough. He¡¯s pushing all of us to our limits.¡± ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t retreat here more often. You¡¯d know all that stuff, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Corrine shook her head. ¡°No, you can tell by the resources that they¡¯re putting into this course that it¡¯s important. It¡¯s definitely part of an effort to get us skills, and I need as many of them that I can get for free. Every bit helps.¡± It was, Tom knew, both a lie and a truth. This might indeed earn her a handful of tier-one and -two skills. In terms of experience cost, that benefit was nothing. Once they were established, such a paltry amount was going to mean only a day or two worth of effort, at best. However, Tom knew there was a lot more than the direct benefits granted by the skills at play. It was about upgrading the title that was granted for learning skills before you had access to experience. That was what drove both Corrine and most of the orphanage¡¯s setup. They obviously hadn¡¯t talked about the mathematics due to title restrictions, but Tom could well see those extra ten points boosting her over a threshold and doubling the bonus she would otherwise get. He suspected she was aiming for two free attribute points per level.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°And it¡¯s not just about the skills,¡± she continued. ¡°I also need the technical knowledge, because I¡¯m not as powerful as I was in the tutorial. Then, in Existentia, when I was this weak, I was part of a two hundred strong raid force. Once I have my system, I¡¯m optimising my levelling. That means I¡¯m mostly going to be on my own, so I need this. The instructions have been good.¡± She laughed. ¡°We¡¯ve been practicing acting like mice. Basically, I¡¯m receiving advanced training in how to survive in a higher-ranked area than you¡¯re currently in. That¡¯s a mindset I¡¯ll need for the first year or two, because even if an area is ranked fourteen to twenty there¡¯s a chance of a stronger enemy moving through.¡± ¡°That¡¯s always a risk.¡± Tom agreed. ¡°I thought so too. But, apparently, it¡¯s only a risk if there¡¯s a higher level zone adjacent to where you¡¯re levelling. It¡¯s the monsters wandering in from elsewhere that are the problem. Eventually, the risk of an enemy appearing from an adjacent area and vastly outranking you disappears. I think, when all the nearby areas are lower-ranked than yourself, then you¡¯re safe. Once you¡¯re powerful, that happens more and more frequently.¡± ¡°Oh, I guess that makes sense. I didn¡¯t consider that. So, did your week of exhaustion get you a skill?¡± She laughed. ¡°I think I¡¯m not even close. We¡¯ll be doing one of these every four or five weeks from now on. By the time I get the system, that¡¯ll add up to six months of dedicated fieldwork, so I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get them eventually. But enough about me. What about you? How have you been going?¡± Tom sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve lived in here a lot. So, there¡¯s been no more blow-ups; and, once you¡¯re back, we can do that thing we spoke about to reduce the chances in the future.¡± ¡°How did you describe it again? Secretly bait you into blowing a gasket?¡± ¡°Yes, exactly. I¡¯m sure both you and Kang will enjoy it.¡± ¡°I think you should check if you can trigger it in a duel. It¡¯s just about getting mad, right? If they¡¯ve killed someone previously, then isn¡¯t that like they¡¯ve doomed an entire civilisation? The idea of what those bastards have done makes me furious.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do that. Not sure if it¡¯ll work, but I¡®ll test to see if it¡¯s possible.¡± They trailed off into silence. ¡°Well, has there been any fun gossip?¡± ¡°Kang managed to get our entire cohort told off.¡± ¡°Made Dimitri come down on you while being all fire and brimstone, did he?¡± Tom nodded. ¡°Yep. The entire group had been running a guessing game of who is the reincarnator all week. Briana was being asked multiple times a day whether she was one, and not by Kang and me. If I didn¡¯t hate it I would have been impressed. I don¡¯t understand how Kang¡¯s engineered it, but she became prime suspect one. The man¡¯s an evil genius. But obviously Briana didn¡¯t like it, and I believe she reacted by telling a volunteer.¡± ¡°Ouch. So, Dim yelled at you for an hour?¡± ¡°Only a half, but, yeah, he was pretty intense. Beyond that, things have mostly gone well, but Briana¡¯s been crying herself to sleep most nights.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± ¡°Yeah, my thoughts exactly.¡± ¡°Do you feel like it¡¯s working? Do you think that, if they mind-read her today, you¡¯d be safe?¡± Tom shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been investing fate both into stopping her from being used by them and into the more direct influence you recommended.¡± ¡°You mean, promoting or drawing her eyes to events that will help her believe you and Kang aren¡¯t reincarnators?¡± ¡°Yep, that one. I think it¡¯s working too. She fell asleep in reading two days ago.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± Corrine said under her breath. ¡°That must have shaken her.¡± ¡°Yeah, Kang got a lot of mileage out of that. ¡®Told you that you sleep in class. Told you, told you.¡¯ That guy¡¯s a fuck head. He went on and on like an obnoxious parrot.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to dispute that, but Tom¡­ do you think it¡¯s working?¡± He snorted angrily. ¡°Yeah. I think so. I shouldn¡¯t be so pissed about it, but I can¡¯t help it.¡± ¡°What¡¯s working?¡± Baptiste asked, using multiple vines to pull himself up onto the seat. ¡°A little domestic problem Tom has.¡± Corrine answered for him. Baptiste¡¯s vines all sagged onto the surface of the pot bit of him with some drooping further, so they rested limply against the seat. The expressed feelings were sadness and common situations. Tom and Corrine both looked at each other in surprise. That was not the emotional response they were expecting. Tom scratched his chin. ¡°Um¡­ why the emotion?¡± ¡°We have one of those, too. I have a domestic problem, the same as you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the same,¡± Tom told the pot plant. ¡°No, it is. We had to flee to a bigger town.¡± The two humans exchanged another look. There was a translation issue, but¡­ ¡°Why did you have to flee?¡± Corrine asked, carefully ¡°Um¡­ It¡¯s related to you guys.¡± ¡°Humans?¡± Tom blurted out, not quite understanding what the pot plant person was talking about. Nothing it had conveyed since it had joined them made a lick of sense. Even with the body language interpretation ability installed in the common areas to avoid these kinds of misunderstandings, there was a translation issue happening. Baptiste was saying things with absolute confidence, but they were incoherent. ¡°What do you mean humans made you flee?¡± What was being suggested confused Tom. The distances involved in Existentia were ridiculous. In solar system terms, in terms of distance the average species lived on Jupiter relative to Earth and you could only reach them by walking over a bridge. Such a journey would take thirty thousand years, and that was the average. Some would be even further away. Practically everyone he had spoken to in the Divine¡¯s Champion¡¯s trial might as well have lived in a different universe. ¡°I didn¡¯t say it was humans,¡± Baptiste objected. Tom shook his head, trying to follow the conversation. ¡°I said related to you. It¡¯s the insects that are responsible.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Tom interrupted, having finally worked out what it was saying. ¡°You¡¯re actually local?¡± It was mindboggling, from what he understood. At any one point in time, there were ten thousand DEUS diminishing civilisations out of ten million total species and humanity was close to less than two hundred of them. The chance of any one person being in the local cluster was only fifty thousand to one. But then again, Baptiste and him being here probably wasn¡¯t fully random. DEUS could, and would, put her finger on probabilities to get what she wanted. ¡°Yes, I just found out about it.¡± The native continued oblivious to Tom¡¯s thoughts. ¡°In our culture, kids aren¡¯t supposed to be exposed to knowledge of life beyond the village. But the Divine Champions¡¯ Trial changes everything. I know there is more out there. Therefore, the usual traditions don¡¯t apply to me. So, I demanded they tell me why we had to leave our village.¡± ¡°And?¡± Tom asked. ¡°They talked about the insects and the competition. I worked it out, and I mention you guys, and then they shared everything. A colony of insects had secretly started up nearby. We had to migrate to a more defensive location until they are eliminated.¡± Baptiste sounded sad. ¡°I won¡¯t go back to my home for six months. That¡¯s a long time away from my sunning spot. But I did find out where you guys are. You see, the city had a map that they showed me.¡± The instant he said that the table changed to show what was presumably an identical replica of the map Baptiste had seen. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect the system to allow that,¡± Baptiste said in delight. ¡°I thought it restricted this sort of overt communication.¡± ¡°The rules are fuzzy,¡± Corrine told him. ¡°If the system thinks you could create the map independently, or that the information you are showing is irrelevant beyond being a prompt, it will facilitate the display to make interactions easier. Consider it as a quality-of-life thing rather than a cheat.¡± Baptiste¡¯s leaves became more straight, to show satisfaction. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡± Tom mostly ignored them as he studied what was shown to him. It was the local nation cluster that he recognised from the reference material in the isolation rooms. The seven competition races were in the wildlands effectively located on one of the eight cardinal directions, with their territories circling the nation cluster. Starting from human territory, it went like this: chosen, inventors, dragons, insects, giants, wador, and then an empty space back to humans. The distances, Tom knew, were huge. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Baptiste pointed. A tiny dot appeared on the map, one a thousand times smaller than the area that humans nominally controlled. Tom was not surprised. Baptiste¡¯s people were diminished, and that was reflected in the amount of land they owned. Not that there were any great empires in the local cluster, at least from an area under control perspective. All the native countries were in the centre, and it was like Europe. There were lots of high-density countries surrounded by the wildlands that competitor species had been scattered within, leaving them, relatively speaking, unpopulated. ¡°Do you think we could do something?¡± Tom asked. ¡°That¡¯s a long way away.¡± Corrine shook her head slowly. ¡°Best case scenario, that¡¯s three years of travel for a high ranked team to get there.¡± She hesitated and tapped her fingers on the map. ¡°Having said that, we¡¯ve had teams go that far.¡± ¡°Then we should help them,¡± Tom said. ¡°Saving a diminishing race has to be good for ranking points.¡± He could tell from her expression that she was thinking the same thing. ¡°We¡¯ve both got meetings with Dim next week. In mine, I¡¯ll have a discussion with him about investing in an uplift mission. You¡¯re on the money, Tom. It¡¯s the right call to help with a diminishing species. It¡¯s probably the easiest source of ranking points we¡¯ve still got left available, and it also feeds into our strengths. There are those unnerved who can be gang-pressed into providing long-term support. Plus, unlike natives, we can use skill and spell-stones strategically, as no one needs to consume them to grow stronger; I also suspect that a lot of the ones that will help Batiste¡¯s people would be ones we wouldn¡¯t be able to use, anyway.¡± Baptiste looked excited. ¡°Are you serious? You¡¯re saying you can help us?¡± Corrine sighed and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not promising anything, and it¡¯s a long way. I don¡¯t have any power to make it happen. All I can do is to argue your case to the decision makers.¡± Then she pointed a finger at Tom. ¡°And if that fails, I¡¯ll get Tom to swing his weight around, and that¡¯ll get a result.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you swing someone else? No offense, but he doesn¡¯t look like he weighs much.¡± Corrine broke down into fits of giggles. Chapter 96 – Disk Tossing Tom found himself in the familiar room. Three doors were facing him, and, while he hadn¡¯t been actively counting, he knew this was his eleventh fight. He lowered his head slightly; while he didn¡¯t want to be dramatic, he knew had been humiliated in every single fight. He hated it, but there was nothing that he could do to change things. The raw ability gap between them, not to mention their superior attributes¡­ It was unsurmountable. The degree that he was outclassed was horrifying. He wondered if this coming duel was going to be any different from those that had preceded it; whether this was the one fight out of twenty where he had a chance. There was only one way to tell, and the disk, now that he had thought about it, was suddenly nestled against his chest. He pulled it out ready to use. In his mind, he captured the image he needed. If he was going to win in the upcoming fight without any permanent injuries, then the consecutive flips would all land, with the one he had inscribed pointing up. It was a simple, but very precise image. The positive required a chain of improbable events, which was the perfect use of fate. He spent ten fate, which was all he had left from his expenditure on the Briana problem, and then he flipped it for the first time. A one came up. Maybe, he thought to himself. Maybe this was going to be the pivotal duel. The thought was premature, Tom knew that, but who knew? Perhaps, he was finally going to come up against an enemy he could beat. Maybe a nice squishy slow opponent that relied purely on mind magic. Tom threw the disk up. It clattered on the floor, flipped, wobbled, and then settled. It was a one once more, but Tom didn¡¯t get excited. Two in a row was something that would happen a quarter of the time. It was hardly remarkable. He flipped it again and again and again. After five ones in a row, his excitement started to grow. Logically, he understood that what he was seeing was not even that extreme an event. Five consecutive ones had a three percent probability of occurring just by random chance. It was why he needed his streak to be far longer. He flipped again. Now he was talking. The chances of these flips happening were less than two percent, which was their estimate of how frequently he should be able to win. But that wasn¡¯t enough to put his life on the line. He needed more to take that sort of risk. Another flip. It was positive again. This was it, but he wasn¡¯t going to stop; he required eight, maybe even nine, to battle without a GOD¡¯s shield. He hadn¡¯t made his mind up, but he decided that, if he got two more successes, he was going to fight without a GOD¡¯s shield. The coin came to rest for the seventh time. It was a zero. He kicked the wood in frustration, then hurried over to collect the disk once more. It had flipped over and now showed a one, but that was meaningless. In the image he had created, it didn¡¯t matter how many ones he got. A single zero meant a hard stop. It was still annoying. He had hoped that he was finally going to win a fight. The excitement disappeared from him, and he trudged through the full GOD¡¯s shield door. You are fighting a representative of INNECTIS. It has two recorded kills. Tom registered those words, and reorganised his thoughts immediately. The disk¡¯s results made sense. Showing a zero was appropriate, because he had no chance in the coming battle. If he was making eight throws, whether that zero came on the seventh throw or the first changed nothing. All that mattered was that it had gotten a warning out like it had done. Not because it had managed multiple kills, but all of INNECTIS¡¯ species had a focus on invention and innovation. They would rely on constructs and not mind spells. His primary strength was neutered. He appeared in an arena that looked like someone significantly more powerful than him had just fought a duel there. Just to the side of where he had been placed, there was a three-metre-deep crater, the sides shining like recently melted rock. In fact, the same thing was repeated across the football field sized pinnacle of rock that was their assigned area to fight in. It was one of those battlefields where, if you fell off the edge, you died unless you had a GOD¡¯s shield. Then there were scars and holes dotting the surface. There were spots, where instead of heat, acid had eaten through the ground. To his right, the destruction was far worse. A scar went through the landscape and stretched almost to the horizon, and there were signs of spells that had melted kilometres-wide holes. They were standing at the edge of a mighty battlefield. Feeling grim, he tore his eyes away from the magical terrain he had been brought to in order to assess what he was fighting. It was a large shaggy creature with two arms. Momentarily, he thought he might be facing a rare biped, but then he reconsidered. It was sitting down, and its thick fur made it difficult to observe its true form. It could have four legs and multiple tails, and he wouldn¡¯t be able to tell. What he was certain of was that it had two defined arms, and they were currently making a triangular shape in front of itself. The body language translation function didn¡¯t extend to the duels, but having interacted with dozens of natives and having seen the different way emotions were expressed, he was at least eighty percent sure that it was a peaceful gesture, not an aggressive one. There was a big shaggy face with visible small eyes, nostrils and a place covered by fur which probably hid a mouth. It was like a yeti, and of a similar size to that creature of a legend. Even with it sitting, crouched, or whatever it was doing, its head was above his own. Standing, it could be eight feet tall, or potentially even more. It was physically massive, just like most of the opponents he faced. It was watching him with casual confidence, and, given it had two kills to its name, Tom didn¡¯t blame it. It fought without a GOD¡¯s shield, so it was powerful. Tom knew that he did not look like much of a threat, and it was possible INNECTIS teams had already recorded his powers, just like DEUS¡¯s group did. The duel counted down, and then the fight was on. He immediately used an imprecise, non-system assessment technique to establish that the native¡¯s attributes were four times higher than his own, and that it had a full fate pool. Tom sprinted at it, knowing it was useless.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Time slowed immediately as it focused on him. There was a distortion of spatial energy near one of its hands, and a magic drone materialised. It was the size of a crow, but disk-like. It also appeared to be made up of a handful of serrated circular blades laid flat together. They spun with the promise of mangled flesh and death. Without pause, it accelerated toward him immediately. Apparent time slowed even more, as the drone¡¯s targeting locked on him. Its course veered sideways, and his brain raced. It was fast, far faster than anything he had faced so far. With his trait boosting only his perception and thinking speed, he had no way of dealing with it. A seven and maybe eight times advantage was too much for him to even think about matching. Without his trait, it would have been travelling too fast for him to follow. It would have been a blur. With his trait, he could watch, but was incapable of reacting to it. Before his body could respond to the commands he sent, those ordering it to turn, the drone had orbited around him in a big circle, presumably to strike at his blind spot. For milliseconds of real time but far longer in a relative sense, Tom didn¡¯t know what it was doing. It was behind him, and he didn¡¯t have eyes in the back of his head, while the sound it generated gave nothing away. Then, like a vengeful bullet, it burst through the perimeter of his Spark-sensing area, and, while Tom knew it was useless, he unleashed a ten-mana Spark to hopefully counter it. Time sped up abruptly and the body of the drone shot by him, just missing his shoulders. A moment later, it struck the ground fifteen metres away from him, then exploded in a blast that was noticeably smaller than the damage that had been done to their arena pre-battle. It still left deep gashes in the rock, which was more than he himself could have accomplished with anything other than a full-powered Power Strike. Tom stared at the wreckage in shock. He had destroyed it? A tiny bit of electricity had fried it. It didn¡¯t necessarily mean anything. Victory was probably beyond him, but hope flared up in him anyway. That a direct strike would have killed him was irrelevant - it hadn¡¯t, and, if that was the extent of its tricks, then he could close to melee range and then destroy it with his spear abilities. Unfortunately, the yeti didn¡¯t look like something that had just lost its fight. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s unfortunate.¡± It said clinically. Two more spatial distortions appeared, and each spat out a drone. Unlike the first one, they hovered instead of attacking immediately. Time still slowed down dramatically, and that told him that, if anything, they were faster than the first one. He had stopped running when the second set of drones appeared. There were only ten metres separating them, slightly less than half of the original distance, but with the threat of instant obliteration he didn¡¯t try to close. Given the acceleration of those drones, he was going to be dead in moments if he attempted something like that. If they came straight at him with pace, there would be nothing that he would be able to do to avoid them. Even electricity wouldn¡¯t have helped, as they would just have continued along their original flight path. ¡°Was that lightning?¡± Tom nodded. This was a representative of INNECTIS. It was not an enemy. ¡°And, I guess, if I used them like a missile, you would die.¡± It said thoughtfully. He decided it was probably not in his interest to answer that question. ¡°Hm, is winning worth the cost of a drone?¡± it asked rhetorically. ¡°It will take more than one drone to kill me. I have excellent healing.¡± And Danger Sense, he thought, but chose not to say it. ¡°No. You might believe that, but it¡¯s wrong.¡± It pointed at the broken drone. ¡°That was my first attempt. These two are both faster, and have a much larger internal energy core to explode. If I use them as a missile, you¡¯ll be reduced to a paste. Will you surrender?¡± There was no point in even considering the offer. With his experience of numerous close battles, dying under a GOD¡¯s shield felt almost relaxing. ¡°No. I¡¯ll fight to the end.¡± ¡°Hm¡­ I didn¡¯t think you would. Instead, would you be willing to accept my surrender?¡± Tom nodded, scarcely able to believe that it was talking so casually. ¡°Well, then. I guess, it was a good fight, and thank you for showing me my drone¡¯s weakness. I will protect them from lightning. In your opinion, is there anything else I should also do?¡± Tom hesitated. He didn¡¯t want to help a competitor, but this was hardly rocket science. ¡°You only need to guard fast response elements. No point protecting against earth, water, plant, or any of the slow ones.¡± ¡°Air and arcane, then. I think fire is too slow as well.¡± Tom considered that, and remembered what Corrine could do. ¡°In the current child bucket, I would agree with that, but in later buckets, fire will be able to destroy these as their control improves.¡± ¡°When that happens, I¡¯ll be far stronger,¡± it said with confidence in its voice. ¡°Now, good luck in your future fights.¡± The offer of surrender came through, and then he was back in the common area with a single shiny coin to his name. He immediately assessed his surroundings to see if anything had gone wrong. Corrine was next to him, and she was safe. So was Baptiste. Throm filled the room, as usual. This time, there were no signs of damage. Vturalta has never been visible, and there was no one else he individually cared for. They had all got through safely. He relaxed. As he did so, his eyes searched for any disasters. Thankfully, there were none. He sighed in relief. ¡°I got a win,¡± Corrine said brightly. ¡°Me too.¡± He replied in a flat tone. She looked at him suspiciously. ¡°Are you serious?¡± ¡°Yes, I am. I won.¡± ¡°What? That¡¯s great. Yay!¡± she grabbed him lifted him up and swung him around in celebration. ¡°Fucking oath. I knew you could do it. Wait.¡± She stopped spinning him but didn¡¯t let him down. There was a concerned look on her face. ¡°Why are you looking so despondent?¡± ¡°It was not a real victory. They effectively conceded the match when they didn¡¯t have to,¡± Tom explained. He tried futilely to pry her fingers open to make her release him. ¡°They surrendered when they could have won, and it was only for one point.¡± She was not letting him go. ¡°Oh,¡± some of the enthusiasm left her. ¡°You went with a GOD¡¯s shield?¡± ¡°Yes. I only got a streak of seven ones, and I needed nine. So¡­¡± He stopped talking, as there was nothing else for him to say. ¡°Oh¡­ well, good job being so disciplined. Smile, Tom. You¡¯re one of us now. You won!¡± Tom shrugged. Yes, he had a coin. But it felt unearned, him having it was cheap, and it was not like only one coin by itself could let him buy anything useful. As far as he was concerned, nothing had changed. ¡°Stop it. There¡¯s no point moping. On a serious note, your meeting is today, isn¡¯t it?¡± Tom nodded. ¡°You¡¯re in a mood.¡± ¡°Yeah, I am. I¡¯m going to...¡± He waved his hand, and then he was back under the covers of his bed in his room. It was about time to get up. Six hours later, Tom paced up and down the hallway as he watched Dimitri¡¯s office door. He knew this was routine. It was a scheduled meeting, so he shouldn¡¯t be feeling so conflicted, but he was. With his years of experience, the chief caretaker of the orphanage would certainly have tracked all the reincarnator chatter back to him and Kang. He would recognise the crude strategy they were employing, and so he would ask questions. Tom wasn¡¯t looking forward to it. If he was pressed for an answer, Tom wondered what he should do. Should he lie or tell the truth? If he confessed, could he trust the older man not to act against Briana? Once more, he glanced at the closed door with a frown on his face. Could he skip it? Would that be the best outcome? The door opened, and Joseph came out. Eloise¡¯s nemesis, the older bully, did not look particularly happy, and Tom suspected he had received another tongue-lashing. He rushed past without a word. Tom knew that the protocol demanded that he go through the open door, but he hesitated, and, even through it was a pipe dream he imagined fleeing, escaping this moment so he didn¡¯t have to answer the question he didn¡¯t want to. Perhaps, tomorrow or later would be a better time to do this, especially if Dimitri was already in a bad mood. Raising the mistakes he and Kang had made was not going to go well. Then Dimitri was at the door, and it was too late. The man looked troubled: ¡°Tom, are you coming? We¡¯re waiting.¡± Chapter 97 – Hidden Confrontation Who¡¯s we? Tom screamed inside the safety of his own head. These sessions were supposed to be confidential, something happening between just the individual child and Dimitri. According to the rules, another person was not allowed. For a few moments, he deliberately remained frozen in his seat, taking the opportunity to study Dimitri. He was very aware of his precognition ability, and searched Danger Sense for any kind of warning, even a hint that something wasn¡¯t as it seemed. There was a slight tickle from the skill, but nothing significantly stronger than the usual background noise. While he focused on that ethereal feeling from his precognition, he also examined him physically. Tom carefully inspected every detail and leaned on his title to pierce illusions. There were no tricks. Everything about the other man was real, including the look of increasing annoyance. Dimitri gestured him forward in frustration: ¡°Tom, don¡¯t just sit there. Hurry up!¡± He stood up, knowing he had no choice, and entered the room with a straight back. No matter what the other man had to say, he was an adult, and he wasn¡¯t going to act like a child. I would not get defensive, Tom promised himself. Instead, he would clearly communicate that Briana was not to be touched. That was the best way to get the result he needed. Once he was through the doorway, he glanced at the other person sitting in the room. Tom¡¯s heart jumped and his feet refused to move forward. He remained frozen on the threshold of the room, and he wanted nothing more than to run. Everlyn was older than he remembered from his previous life. She looked like she was in her early thirties, and was currently flipping through a set of reports on her lap, radiating boredom. She didn¡¯t even look up when he entered. Dimitri¡¯s broad hand was planted firmly on his back. It was the pressure that stopped him from running, and could just as easily be used to thrust him more deeply into the room. Surprisingly, the large man chuckled. ¡°No need to react like that, Tom. Yes, this is the famous Eden of the Green. But she doesn¡¯t bite, unless you¡¯re a wador.¡± He chuckled again and began to push. The larger man¡¯s strength was too much, and Tom stumbled helplessly forward. Defeated, he sat on the chair placed for students in front of the desk. Then, back straight and looking everywhere but at Everlyn, he waited. Everlyn still had not looked up, but he thought he could see a slight clenching of her jaw. ¡°Eden has kindly asked to sit in for all of these meetings. Given the recent assassination attempts, she¡¯s considering taking over the caretaker¡¯s spot. She is uniquely positioned to stop any of those shenanigans.¡± Tom swallowed. He didn¡¯t know how to deal with this. Yes, there was their messy break up and history, but there were also the fifty years she had lived and the experiences she had had since then. The idea of having to interact with her more frequently made his blood pound. He didn¡¯t need or want that kind of a reminder of his previous life. Dimitri continued acting as though nothing unusual was happening. The doors shut with a click that made him jump. Then the large man¡¯s hand on the wall made the privacy runes light up. ¡°And we¡¯re secure.¡± Dimitri declared. Everlyn was suddenly right in front of him. She had moved so fast it was like she had teleported, and quite possibly she had. Her hands gripped his, and she was staring deep into his eyes. There was a manic gleam to them, but more heartbreaking was the hope that they contained. He feared the delusions she might have had while he waited in limbo to be reincarnated. Why? He thought. Why was she here? What was that expression? His skin crawled, and not because he was in danger - it was just that she was so intense it was scary. ¡°Is this him?¡± She asked, and then her face lost all animation as she ducked into her system room. It was like she went from a vibrant living person to a robot. Then, almost as fast as it happened life came flooding back into her with a vengeance. Both changes were familiar to Tom. This was the difference between the protection granted by his reincarnator title and what everyone else got. When he went into the system room, no one could tell. For everyone else, it was extremely obvious. ¡°Yes. This is Tom, your Tom, and he is a reincarnated one.¡± Tom¡¯s head snapped around and up to look at Dimitri in horror. That was not something he was meant to be able to say. The title was supposed to prevent Dimitri from outing his status to anyone. The big man cleared his throat. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that, Tom. The title clearly binds her now. You can check, if you don¡¯t believe me. For goodness¡¯ sakes, don¡¯t give me that look. The fact I can even say the words is proof enough. It¡¯s a GOD¡¯s enforced contract.¡± In a daze, he ducked into his system room, and saw that the title text was displayed for him to review. An extra line had been added to cover her. He looked back and had to resist the instinct to flinch. Everlyn was too close to him, her eyes examining him like he was a puzzle to be unlocked. ¡°Tom, what did you do?¡± She sounded horrified. ¡°How did you do it when you¡¯re this weak?¡± She glanced up at the other person in the room. ¡°Dimitri, you run this place. Tell me how.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already told you I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°You said you know something, but wouldn¡¯t reveal it. Why?¡± The large man shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s Tom¡¯s secret, not mine.¡± Tom didn¡¯t know how to react. What did he do? There was only one explanation. They had to know about Briana. They might not know the ins and outs of the situation, but they knew enough. ¡°You haven¡¯t killed her, have you? Please. Because I don¡¯t want that¡­ I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°Killed who?¡± Everlyn asked, sounding puzzled. Once more, she threw an accusing glare at Dimitri. ¡°She¡¯s safe.¡± Dimitri assured. ¡°Who?¡± Everlyn demanded. ¡°Who¡¯s safe?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t concern you, Eden. She¡¯s only a child.¡± ¡°Then why would we kill her? Oh, you didn¡¯t¡­¡± She looked at Tom with a horrified expression. ¡°Points aren¡¯t worth that.¡± ¡°What?¡± Tom stammered in confusion. ¡°No, Tom¡¯s not like that. He wouldn¡¯t. Dimitri,¡± she demanded, ¡°explain what¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°And promise you¡¯re not going to do anything to her.¡± Tom insisted. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that.¡± Dimitri answered him in frustration. ¡°Ah. Someone discovered he was reincarnated.¡± Everlyn concluded. ¡°And she¡¯s a loose end not covered by your title.¡± Tom went white at the clinical way she was talking. ¡°You can¡¯t kill her.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I said I wouldn¡¯t do it.¡± Dimitri said. ¡°Me? I¡¯d never. I don¡¯t kill humans.¡± Everlyn clarified at the same time. Tom was glad Everlyn had said that, but it was something he had expected from his previous life. She was not one to cross ethical lines, even when it was necessary. Dimitri was a different matter. He met the other man¡¯s eyes and wished he was in his adult body because trying to look intimidating as a six-year-old was an exercise in futility. ¡°Corrine said that, in the past¡­¡± Tom paused to observe the older man¡¯s reactions. From context, it was clear what he was implying. Dimitri hesitated and licked his lips before swallowing heavily: ¡°You¡¯re right. But I wouldn¡¯t do it without permission, and if there¡¯s no¡­¡± Dimitri had been clenching his fists tighter and tighter as he spoke. He stopped talking with an anguished expression and banged his head against the wall. Then he took a single deep breath and focused back on Tom. These were the actions of a man who was going to hate himself for it, but would still do his duty. Tom wasn¡¯t sure he would be able to do the same. ¡°It would be yours and Kang¡¯s choice, and there is no way I¡¯m doing anything otherwise.¡± ¡°Whose choice?¡± Everlyn demanded. ¡°Who¡¯s Kang?¡± ¡°And if he wanted to kill her and I didn¡¯t?¡± Tom asked, ignoring Everlyn. Dimitri hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Luckily, I don¡¯t have to make that decision.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± Everlyn repeated. ¡°A friend of Tom¡¯s discovered his and Kang¡¯s status.¡± She raised her eyebrows. ¡°A six-year-old friend?¡± ¡°My new little sister,¡± Tom shot back. ¡°Kang¡¯s too, I expect.¡± ¡°So, this girl somehow uncovered that you were a reincarnator?¡± ¡°Yes. We were helping her get a spell. We both showed too much expertise.¡± ¡°And how is that related to all the points you earned?¡± ¡°My what? Contribution points?¡± he asked hesitantly, looking at Dimitri for confirmation. He got a shake of his head in response. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°What do you mean? Why are you playing dumb and asking what points?¡± This was safer ground. ¡°Because I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°I¡¯m here because you reappeared on the ladder.¡± Tom¡¯s mind went blank for a moment. ¡°Wait. Are we talking about ranking points?¡± ¡°Yes, what else would I bother with?¡± ¡°I¡¯m back on the ladder?¡± Both Everlyn and Dimitri nodded. His thoughts raced in response. ¡°As in the top sixty-four?¡± They nodded agreement. Tom tried to work out what it could mean. How many points did it take to breach the top sixty-four? Humanity as a whole only had two hundred million in total. So, half a million would be enough, but that was a huge number all by itself, and more than he could have accumulated by accident. Dimly, he recalled that he had recently read the current affairs folder, and learned that a large amount of point gains had been unexplained. He had even speculated on why the cause hadn¡¯t been identified. ¡°Um,¡± he swallowed heavily. ¡°I don¡¯t have three million points, do I?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s a little under one.¡± Everlyn answered. ¡°But, Tom, whatever you¡¯ve done to earn that must have been incredibly dangerous. You don¡¯t have to take those risks. You¡¯ve fulfilled your duty. It¡¯s okay to stop.¡± His mind had frozen. Whether it was half a million, a million or three, it didn¡¯t matter. It was too much, and he could think of only one action that could have earned that much. He glanced at Dimitri. ¡°Is Everlyn saying that I¡¯ve earned a million ranking points?¡± ¡°Yes, Eden is.¡± ¡°A million,¡± he started, and then stuttered to a halt. Maybe it wasn¡¯t what he thought. There was a chance that timing could be in his favour. He licked his lips and prayed, but knew deep down that the answer would be yes. ¡°Was this six weeks ago?¡± Everlyn shrugged. ¡°Could be. I¡¯ve only noticed five weeks ago, but then, I only check the ladder every few weeks.¡± ¡°It was.¡± Dimitri answered. ¡°We keep records, and I double-checked them when Eden raised it with me.¡± He shut his eyes to stop the tears flooding out. The timing was too coincidental and the point tally too large to be anything else. ¡°Tom, you don¡¯t have to be taking these risks,¡± Everlyn repeated. ¡°What you set off in your first life was more of a contribution than you were required to give. You¡¯ve done your bit. Leave the rest up to other people. Live so you can see Emily and your parents again.¡± The words didn¡¯t get through to him at all. The only thing he could think about was the trigger, the action, the disgrace that could lead to him receiving a million points. He remembered standing in that contender¡¯s circle, and looking at the hippo-like person who had pleaded her case. Then, later, the presenter asking him if he wanted to keep his spot. Swift Hope had begged him to let her have it and he had said no, and now it seemed that, that decision had been worth a million points. Logically, at least with a pure humans-first attitude, he should be celebrating. Instead, he had felt like vomiting at the time and the emotions were even worse now. Those points were a tangible proof of the consequences of his actions. ¡°Tom, you don¡¯t have to keep fighting.¡± His eyes snapped up at her with simmering fury. Had she really just said that he didn¡¯t have to keep fighting? He, who had just doomed an entire species, should surrender and give up? It was crazy and insulting to the sacrifices he had already made. All of humanity was on the line. That was why he had been selfish, and she was now asking him to do nothing. Worse, she was encouraging him to give up. ¡°What happened to you, Everlyn? We¡¯re in sixth place. Humans might lose everything. Why are you telling me to quit? What about your kids? Do you really want them to die?¡± She looked hurt by his venom. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s not like that. You know me. You¡¯ve seen how far I¡¯m willing to go for humanity.¡± ¡°Maybe you did once, but right now I see someone making excuses and being a coward.¡± She coughed, momentarily unable to talk. ¡°Tom, do you trust me?¡± her voice was urgent. ¡°Can you remember how much I cared? I still love my kids, and would do anything for them,¡± ¡°You just told me to give up. To accept the doom of my species. That¡¯s not doing everything for your kids. Are you unnerved?¡± She cleared her throat once more and rubbed it in an irritated manner. ¡°No, I can guarantee you that I¡¯m not unnerved. I¡¯m just¡­¡± she stopped talking. ¡°In my opinion, you¡¯ve done enough. You don¡¯t have to do anymore.¡± ¡°So, you want me to give up?¡± Everlyn said nothing. Her face was red, and her coughing had left tears in her eyes. ¡°Putting whatever that was aside,¡± Dimitri interrupted. ¡°I want to know how you earned a million points. You¡¯ve been in this orphanage the entire time, and I have to understand how.¡± He glanced at him and then back at her. It was safe to ignore Dimitri. ¡°Be more direct. Why are you telling me to give up?¡± She said nothing for a long time, as though she was struggling to come up with a lie that could justify such stupidity. Because nothing could excuse the idea, she struggled to find the words to defend herself. He remembered how passionate she had been, how dedicated she had been to the competition in order to save her kids. In the context of her history and prior actions, the advice she was now giving was beyond bizarre. He didn¡¯t understand what was happening. ¡°I¡¯m asking you to trust me. You don¡¯t have to suffer and strain. There¡¯s no need to sacrifice yourself.¡± Tom stared at her. Something had changed, and this was not a suggestion he would follow. ¡°I won¡¯t let us finish below the third place. I¡¯ll do everything I can to stop that.¡± Everlyn tried to talk, but obviously decided that it wasn¡¯t worth it, because she stopped after barely starting. ¡°It has to be the Divine Champions¡¯ trial.¡± Dimitri concluded suddenly. ¡°Somehow you got in and did something there to get the points.¡± Tom wasn¡¯t prepared for the sudden shift, and he knew his face gave everything away. ¡°I¡¯m right. But how? I thought you needed that trait stone to make it.¡± Everlyn clicked her fingers. ¡°Yes, the trait stone. I¡¯ve got something for you.¡± She held out her hand palm facing up, and on it was one of the most elaborate stones that he had ever seen. ¡°What does it do?¡± he asked in amazement. Her fist closed over it. ¡°Promise you won¡¯t take unnecessary risks, and I¡¯ll give it to you. You can earn points, but don¡¯t do anything stupid in your quest to get stronger.¡± Tom stared at her and considered what she was asking. ¡°No. I won¡¯t allow myself to be bribed, and I¡¯m not about to betray my species. I refuse to give up for anything.¡± A look of irritation crossed her face. ¡°You¡¯ve done enough¡­ ahh ¡­ I can¡¯t keep doing this. It¡¯s too hard. Why won¡¯t you listen? Why can¡¯t you just trust me? You¡¯re always so dogged, chewing on the bone and not letting go. For once, let others carry the load. The result of the competition is not on you.¡± ¡°Sorry, Evie, I¡¯m not that sort of person.¡± ¡°I know,¡± she threw her head up and looked at the sky. There were actual tears of frustration in her eyes. It was surreal. ¡°Stubborn, thick-headed mule, who can¡¯t¡­¡± she stopped talking once more and rubbed her throat. ¡°I¡¯m out. I¡¯m not raising this again.¡± ¡°Eden,¡± Dimitri said forcefully. ¡°You can¡¯t give that trait stone to a kid. Not even a reincarnator. Use it yourself, or give it to a proper proven powerhouse.¡± Everlyn snorted. ¡°No. This is almost trash level for an elite, but for a child, especially a reincarnator, it¡¯s powerful beyond reason. Tom, you can have it if you promise to¡­¡± ¡°I thought you said you had given up.¡± he interrupted before she could finish. ¡°And no, I won¡¯t accept it if it has that condition attached.¡± ¡°Fine; it¡¯s yours anyway.¡± She tossed it to him. Dimitri went to snatch it out of the air, but Everlyn blurred and blocked his hand. They had both moved too fast for him to perceive. It was a firm reminder of how weak he was when it came to standing against a true enemy. ¡°No, Dimitri, you can¡¯t stop this. I¡¯ve given it to him.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t absorb it.¡± Dimitri snapped. ¡°She¡¯s being reckless and counterproductive. If you¡¯re worried about humanity, give that trait stone to someone who can actually use it.¡± ¡°Stop being a wet wipe,¡± Everlyn shot back. ¡°I¡¯m not completely deranged. Did you manage to identify it when it was in the air?¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t, and my skill was blocked when you were holding it.¡± ¡°Then what the hell are you objecting to? You don¡¯t even know what it is.¡± ¡°I saw how elaborate it was. It was too good for a child.¡± ¡°As I said, I¡¯m not deranged, and I helped to put in the rules that you¡¯re parroting. That trait makes the first ten mana cost of a spell free. I doubt it¡¯ll give even a one per cent boost to the combat effectiveness of a powerhouse. Tom, use it. This is one of the trait stones that is better for a child.¡±