Chapter 37: Scammer gets Scammed

Tristan reached for the brass charm.

[Brass Conduit (Low-Grade)] Description: A small brass ornament designed to smooth irregular essence flow. Passive Effect: Limiter on essence output.

The chauffeur explained that the brass charm, passively smoothed and guided essence flow. Rookies tend to waste essence by expending too much. The limiter would ensure Tristan doesn’t waste too much essence when circulating it. The worse someone was at natural circulation, the greater the benefit, making it insanely useful for him, who had spent his entire fight brutally forcing essence through his pathways like a caveman. To be fair it had only been a short while since Tristan had awakened. The boots were built to withstand extreme punishment, replacing his scratched-up pair.

Picking up the ointment jar, Tristan frowned slightly. "A scar-repairing skin cream?"

The chauffeur handed him a folded note. "From Lady Diana, young master."

Tristan opened his sister’s brief letter. Written in her sharp, elegant cursive, it read: If you plan on landing a decent date at the Academy, stop letting monsters carve up your face. Take care of your skin.

Tristan shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He hadn’t expected his sister to play cupid, but he certainly wasn’t going to reject an absurdly expensive restorative salve that doubled as high-grade skincare. He took pride in his appearance, after all.

Bidding his chauffeur farewell, Tristan slung his leather duffel over his shoulder and began making his way toward the Sovereign Wing dormitories. He was eager to unpack, enjoy his Rank 1 penthouse, and spend the evening dissecting the full student ranking lists on his new phone.

However, as he rounded the corner near the central fountain plaza, the peaceful evening air was abruptly shattered by a loud cacophony of talking and shouting.

Past the administrative buildings lay the central plaza, where student organization recruitment was in full swing. Rows of dark wood kiosks and banners stretched across the courtyard, swarming with upperclassmen hunting for fresh talent. With classes starting in just three days, recruitment was reaching its peak. Booths for everything from the Weapon’s Mastery Club to the Survival Experts lined the walkways, but a loud commotion near the center plaza drew Tristan’s attention toward the Dueling Club banner.

From his knowledge of Flamecrest Legacy, the Dueling Club was a goldmine. The organization sanctioned every official non-academic duel on campus, earning massive point cutoffs by hosting weekly spectator matches complete with bizarre wagers and custom combat conditions.

’Well I’m rank 1 so I don’t really need the points but... could be fun and there are other wagers to be made.’

Standing in front of the club’s kiosk, furiously gripping an ornate, steel-ribbed umbrella, was a freshman girl Tristan recognized immediately, Yumi Emery.

She was disarmingly cute, possessing a petite frame and striking amber-gold eyes with a distinctly cat-like slant that twitched with irritation. Framed by messy obsidian hair that flared subtly at the sides like flicking ears, her small, sharp pout gave her almost a feline-like appearance, adding to her charm.

Though currently unranked due to her status as a recommended student, Yumi was an absolute monster in combat. Privately tutored by an Ascended-rank master to wield her umbrella artifact, [Stormbreaker], a weapon that acted as a kinetic drill and essence amplifier, she was famous in almost every game route as ’The Saint of Sorrows.’ Her ability, [Martyr’s Crown], generated crescent essence ’thorns’ whenever she took or dealt severe damage. Each ’thorn’ exponentially boosted her durability and power. Each thorn would appear around her or her artifact, making it look like a "crown". The ability is capped at seven ’thorns’ and once she reached the cap she could use her ultimate attack [Retribuition].

’A bit of a mouthful but I can’t lie she’s really strong.’

Right now, however, two arrogant third-year recruiters were blocking her path.

"We have limited slots and a reputation to uphold," one of the upperclassmen scoffed, crossing his arms. "Entry requires a top-ten freshman rank or a top-tier noble lineage. A recommended commoner with an unranked badge doesn’t cut it. Reapply next semester."

Yumi’s knuckles turned white on the handle of Stormbreaker. "Then let me prove it right now. You and me. A duel."

Tristan turned away, stepping back into the crowd. He remembered pretty vividly how this played out. This was the exact moment people gave her the nickname battle maniac.

"And I don’t want any part of that nuh-uh, I’m out.’

"Hey! You there!"

Before Tristan could melt into the crowd, the second third-year recruiter leaped over the wooden counter, his eyes wide as he stared at the glowing gold Rank 1 notification on Tristan’s newly activated mobile device.

The recruiter practically sprinted in front of him, blocking his path. "Tristan Verneuil! The top scorer of the entrance exam! Listen, the Dueling Club needs talent like yours. Join us, and we’ll fast-track your path to the club’s main roster. What do you say?"

Tristan hesitated. He did plan on joining a club, and the Dueling Club did offer some pretty good benefits. Before he could voice his thoughts, a small hand latched onto his leather jacket.

Yumi stepped beside him, her previous anger completely replaced by a sharp, calculating smirk. She dragged him forward, leveling a look at the recruiter. "He’ll only sign your membership form if I get a slot, too."

Tristan blinked and looked at her, "Uhh hell n-"

"DEAL!" the third-year shouted without a second’s hesitation, yanking two registration scrolls from his coat and slamming them onto the table. "No takesies-backsies! Sign right here!"

Yumi let go of his jacket, giving Tristan a playful, soft punch to the shoulder as she walked past him toward the desk. "I owe you one, Rank One," she whispered with a satisfied wink.

Tristan stood motionless, watching her happily fill out her paperwork. He let out a long, quiet sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

’What is even the point of being ranked number one if nobody actually waits for my permission before using my name?’

He shook his head, pulling out his pen. Still, as far as unexpected developments went, landing a spot in the campus’s most lucrative club alongside a future Ascended threat wasn’t the worst outcome.

Not to mention a lot of the important people in this world revolve around the dueling club for some reason. Maybe that’s a good thing or maybe that’s a bad thing.

’Who knows. Only time will tell.’ Tristan thought.