My Charity System made me too OP

Through the haze of pain, Leon channeled the stored kinetic data.

He pulsed once—

Then again—

And launched back up with the force of every strike he had endured, smashing into Nyz'zoth's torso with a triple rebound strike.

The colossus grunted, and for the first time, stepped back.

Leon gasped, hands trembling.

"Karmic Loop," he whispered.

Time recoiled one heartbeat.

Leon dodged a follow-up strike he hadn't even seen before.

Sixfold Ripple activated.

Nyz'zoth began moving at multiple speeds, fragments of himself attacking from six mirrored timelines.

Leon used Echo of Origin—his Shell Pulse now controlling combat tempo.

Aether blood shimmered. He shifted his stance and let his will conduct the rhythm of the six assaults.

One block. Two deflections. A jump. A counter.

And then—he was inside Nyz'zoth's guard.

"Gold Magic—Pierce Entropy!"

He slammed a glowing spear into Nyz'zoth's sternum.

A fracture split open, glowing gold and white.

Roaring, Nyz'zoth activated his final trait: "Mass Without Limit."

Gravity ruptured. Even light bent.

Leon dropped to one knee—his lungs crushed by pressure.

But he reached within. Past the Shell. Past the Core.

He drew from the Abyss Leech King's gift. And the God-Crystal of Solarum.

"Void King's Flare."

The darkness answered.

A halo of Abyssal fire wrapped around him. His staff expanded into a trident of collapsing magic: Destruction, Gold, and Aether interwoven by Origin Mana.

He threw it with a howl—

Spear of Last Light.

It pierced Nyz'zoth clean through.

Silence.

Then—*

Collapse.

Nyz'zoth fell.

[Victory: Challenger Leon – Rank 3 Defeated]

[Shell Pulse: Echo of Origin – Mastery Increased: 93%]

[Body Force Insight Gained: Void-Tether Stabilization Technique]

Leon fell to one knee.

His vision swam. Blood pooled beneath him.

Milim and Roselia rushed to the platform.

Roman just muttered, "That wasn't a fight… that was a goddamn collision of laws."

Leon coughed out a laugh.

"Two more to go…"

Next Challenge Unlocked: Rank 2 – The Cradle Crowned.

But first… he needed to survive.

The aftermath was raw, breathless, and heavy with silence.

The void-arena crumbled gently into fragments of floating obsidian as stabilizing glyphs pulsed, catching Leon and lowering him toward the central platform. His skin was charred in places from overuse of Abyss magic, his knuckles split, and his aura—a once-glorious storm—now flickered like the last embers of a dying star.

Roselia reached him first, sliding to her knees and cradling his face. "You're burning up," she whispered.

Leon chuckled weakly. "That... might be the Abyss eating me alive."

"Not funny."

Naval and Roman flanked them, readying potions and recovery runes, while Milim stood behind, arms crossed, expression strangely still.

"It's confirmed," Roman said. "Rank 3 has fallen. That means only two left."

Leon gave a faint nod, eyes fluttering. "Nyz'zoth... was a mountain. Not a warrior. Every time I hit him, it felt like I was fighting the concept of gravity itself."

"And you survived," Roselia said softly. "Barely."

Milim knelt down and finally spoke. "That technique at the end… 'Spear of Last Light'—was that a hybrid cast?"

Leon nodded, his voice hoarse. "Yeah… mixed Destruction Core, Aether streamlining, and Gold collapse threading. Held it together with Origin. Burned through half my reserves and probably my soul's warranty."

Roselia whispered, "Then stop. Rest. Let this be the peak."

But Leon's eyes remained fixed forward.

"No," he said. "There's still Rank 2. The Cradle Crowned. And beyond that…"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. They all knew.

The Rank 1 Champion. The Arena Sovereign. The Pinnacle of the Obsidian Ant Domain.

Milim finally cracked a grin. "Well, if you're not gonna quit… then at least do us a favor and don't die next time."

Leon leaned his head back onto Roselia's lap, eyes staring at the swirling runes above.

"Let me rest tonight," he murmured. "Because tomorrow... I tear open the sky again."

The monastery's walls whispered. Not with wind, nor spirits, but with the memory of warriors past. Its obsidian towers rose into the silence of the deep cavern sky, glowing faintly from within—alive, just as the arena had been.

Leon stood at the edge of the obsidian cliff, overlooking the violet abyss that cradled the Monastery. His breath steamed gently, not from cold, but from residual mana bleed. His body was wrapped in ritual bandages laced with silverfire balm. Every movement ached. Every heartbeat reminded him of the price paid.

Behind him, the Elder approached.

"Only two remain," the ant-sage said. "And yet the final battle may consume more than your strength—it may demand your memory, your origin, and your tether to this self."

Leon didn't turn. "The Cradle Crowned… what is it?"

"A living dream," the elder replied. "It is not born of flesh or stone, but of legacy. The embodiment of every Obsidian Ant warrior who fell below Rank 2—crushed, broken, or forgotten. Their pain... their regret... all coalesced. It fights to reclaim its purpose."

Leon said nothing for a moment, then asked, "And the Rank 1?"

The elder bowed his head. "The Sovereign. The Last Queen. Not just a warrior, but the source of our shell and silence. She was once our prophecy."

Leon nodded slowly. "So… what you're saying is… I'll be fighting against legacy, and then against destiny."

"Correct," the elder said. "And that is why I came."

He placed something small and heavy in Leon's palm—a shard of translucent obsidian pulsing with faint red light.

[You have acquired: Shell Pulse Core Fragment – Harmonic Type]

This item allows resonance tuning to 4th Layer Echoes: Origin Reverb, Karmic Loop, and Echo of Silence.

"I thought there were only three echoes…" Leon murmured.

"There were. Until you. You have reached 93% Shell Reverb Mastery. With this shard, the resonance loop completes—you may glimpse the Fifth Pulse."

Leon's fingers closed around it. "What is it called?"

The elder leaned forward.

Roselia, Naval, and Liliana sat outside the chamber as it pulsed with light and shockwaves. Each strike was quiet, contained—but the air around it changed, tasted of ozone and history.

Roman looked up. "He's close. I can feel the threads snapping."

Milim stood, her eyes narrowed. "He's preparing to kill something that doesn't want to die."

Inside, Leon stood alone. The shard fused into his spine. Energy rippled around his limbs.

He spoke to no one. Yet his words were meant for everything.

"Tomorrow… I fight the dreams of the fallen."