Chương 93: Public Rankings

They arranged the public rankings in the main plaza at the base of the large central tower. Every year had its own wall surrounding the plaza, while staff and faculty had their own. The results were updated overnight, and the plaza was full. I delayed and skipped the crowd, going after breakfast with Healer Melon. Students flocked there to see their class standing, and it was still crowded. The list moved left to right, with the name followed by the skill gain.

The list of Year 6 and 7 students had only 10 names, but the names were prominent. Organizers blocked off the space to give people room to find their names without getting in the way. I looked for my name at the top of Year 1. The first list had 10 names. The second, to the right, had 90, the third had 900. Then, each one after that for Year 1 listed 1, 000 names. Year 1 1. Justin Burnstock 560 2. Windshell Gossimer 437 3. Harren Axefall 411 4. Stormy Aether 406 5. Terroc 399 6. Godfrey Windsome 398 7.

April Withers 386 8. Frank Vonberg 352 9. Teresa Mayflower 350 10. Xyon Fullbright 350 There was a tie. In that case, higher-tier skills carried more weight for the tiebreaker. The competition was intense, but there was an enormous gap between me and second place. Because the result would take into account growth over every three months, I already had a sizable lead, and no one would surpass me easily this year.

If the elf Windshell Gossimer earned the same number of skill levels the next three months, I could earn 314 and still tie with her. The advantage of two soul fruits was just too strong. Other people might have nations, entire families, even business empires supporting them, but I had my mother. While she might have gone off to the dungeon, I wouldn't embarrass her or squander everything she had done for me. Almost dying and getting a new Tier 4 skill helped quite a bit.

But even without that Tier 4 skill, I still would have taken the top spot, which made me feel proud of my accomplishment.

"First place! Melody should be replacing your ID plate sometime soon, and we will need to move," Healer Melon said.

"Let's take care of that today before we go exploring the city. Returning every day would be exhausting, and I want to explore a little." I looked at his shiny bald head.

"Maybe a disguise?"

"The College guards have swept through the city, crime is at an all-time low at the moment. If we stick to the main business district, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Hmm, if you say so." His bald head was very recognizable along with his healer's robes. But if he wasn't worried, then I would not be overly concerned. While the Dark Cabal was dangerous, I wasn't going after them, and I wasn't being reckless. Checking out the city below the College seemed like a basic thing that wouldn't invite unnecessary trouble. While the College had everything one could ask for, the atmosphere and the mood were incredibly depressing.

"Justin Burnstock." I paused and turned towards the elf who had called my name out. It was Windshell Gossimer, the second-ranked student in the first year.

"Yes, Miss Gossimer?" I asked politely as she approached me.

"I will not let you win," she declared.

"Good," I replied casually with a shrug. She frowned at me.

"Are you taking me lightly?"

"Not at all. You have the best chance of catching up and surpassing me. However, I already have a sizable lead for this year, and it isn't small. I believe it is 560 to 437. Catching up to me will be quite difficult."

"A sizable gap, but it is surmountable."

"Really? I figure we have both been working quite hard for the last three months. Suppose you can improve more quickly, good for you. I am honestly just focusing on doing the best I can. If you want me to take you seriously, then score higher than me." She just glared at me and stormed off. I shook my head.

"Completely pointless drama."

"What if you were second? Would you act the same way?" If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"No. It is foolish to worry about others. This isn't a tournament where you can beat others or easily sabotage them. It is a direct competition of learning and resources where your main opponent is your will to continue turning your brain to mush. My tolerance for suffering is quite high after going into the dungeon with my mother for a year." Still, I was worried about gaining levels in the long term. The near-death experience had helped me out quite a bit. I couldn't replicate that.

While I would probably win this year as the top student, over time, the impact of the soul fruits I had taken would weaken, and I didn't know about the backing Windshell Gossimer had.

"Can you ask around about Windshell Gossimer and find out what kind of support she has?"

"I can ask around. Anything specific you are interested in?"

"I just want to know what resources she has supporting her. She is awfully confident and confrontational. No other student is like that. She clearly knows of me, so I would expect she knows of my mother. For her to target me is surprising. I will ask my father when classes restart as well."

"I will ask, but there is only so much I will be able to learn."

"That is fine. I will win this year, but future years will become more difficult. How long do soul fruits last?"

"Forever, but their impact decreases logarithmically. It never goes away, but the impact will diminish to almost nothing given enough time. I would say that in two to four years, your leveling speed will struggle as your soul stabilizes more."

"I can't copy the soul fruits with a skill?"

"Don't do that. That is how people kill themselves. I am not joking. What you are talking about is a soul massage. And despite its seemingly innocent name, it is perilous. Even if you think you have done everything right, you can damage skills, stats, and other parts of your soul without realizing it. This will create even greater problems later on, so don't try that."

"A shame the breaks are so short. I can't go into the dungeon."

"You could take a semester or year off to do that. It is something that is offered."

"No. Once I leave this place, I don't think I want to come back for a long time. I wouldn't call it horrible, but it is an acquired taste. Just an unrelenting push for more levels and power. It is exhausting," I knew that if my mother were listening in, she would roll her eyes and say that I was weak. But this place lasted for seven years. That was a very long time. I would be 19 years old when I graduated. That was so far away. My time in the College of Advancement was only 3. 6% complete.

My performance was excellent, but the time left was mind-numbing. I should have known this place was terrible after my mother said I should go there to learn. She had hired Tutor Damian, and he had talked about this place, but it had been a trap. I had promised to do my best and didn't plan to quit, but this place was miserable in a way that was hard to describe. The best way to explain it was that The Mathemancer had sucked out all the joy and social interaction of gaining skill levels.

In the far future, possibly, there would be golems teaching everyone with no Professor in sight. They would repeat the most optimal lesson plan, and everyone would copy that. For a competitive environment, it made sense. But it would have been nice to make friends. I had a retainer, Healer Melon, A rival, Windshell Gossimer, and a pet that was still stuck in its egg, but no friends. But there was no use complaining.

People would say that I was being spoiled or lazy, but it felt like I was being forced into a box when I wanted to explore beyond it. When I graduated, I was going to travel. Go down into the dungeon at one point, come up at another, and check out that city. See what the world offered. Live life instead of being hyper-focused on gaining levels. Otherwise, what was the point? My mother had worked her entire life to become a Supreme Legend, and she seemed very unhappy.

While she might smile at certain things, she didn't seem to like her life. Even my father seemed stressed with his crazy plans. I get wanting power so one could choose how they lived and be safe, but power for power's sake seemed exhausting. It was a quest without end or purpose. Perhaps that was why my mother was going to the bottom of the dungeon, to find purpose. I knew I wasn't afraid of hard work, but I didn't want to keep working my entire life.

I wanted to become the strongest, but there was more to life than being the strongest spellblade. While giving that story about Bastian might have meant to test my determination, I had picked up another lesson from it. That was to enjoy your life while getting stronger. That was lost on my mother and most people here. Even if I didn't place first, it would be disappointing, but I wouldn't regret visiting the nearby city or enjoying a week off.

While I had been studying, I had put everything I had into it, as evidenced by all the levels I had gained. But I would not kill myself, even if I burned the book my mother gave me and didn't get a sword from my father. Coming to that realization lifted a weight off my shoulders I didn't know was there. Expectations only had power if I couldn't handle the consequences. I wouldn't slow down or sabotage myself, but I was going to do things my way, the fun way, where it wasn't year after year of unending misery.

There would be some misery, but it would be all misery. I was going to be the strongest, but I wouldn't become miserable doing so. Worrying about the future was just as much of a mental distraction as worrying over numbers and levels. Mentally, I thanked Windshell Gossimer for helping me realize this. She would probably glare at me or scream in rage if I told her I didn't care if I came in first or not. It honestly didn't matter.

"You seem in a better mood," Healer Melon said as we made our way to the elevator down to the surface.

"Just realized something about this place I knew, but didn't properly realize until just now. The only enemy to advancing my levels is myself." I didn't want to tell Healer Melon I didn't care since that would start an argument. But not caring about the results was a way to get better results. It was hard for me to express myself adequately, so I didn't bother. The results would show if I were right or wrong, and even if I was wrong, they didn't matter.