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“Well, my information is out of date, and is more of an educated guess than a fact.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.”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“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 – 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?”