My Charity System made me too OP

A golden ripple surged around him, fused with Destruction and Aether Blood. As the blast wave of decay erupted from Varnak's chest cavity, Leon met it head-on. Not with a shield, but a spear forged from Gold Magic and condensed Shell Reverb—a single strike launched like a comet.

It pierced the heart of the Hollow Bloom.

Varnak shrieked, his body unraveling in a storm of petals and thorns, disintegrating from within.

[Victory: Challenger Leon. Rank 47 Defeated.]

Leon dropped to one knee, panting, his skin flecked with toxins and his core still echoing from the clash.

"...That one hurt."

Roselia ran to his side, immediately pressing a healing rune to his back. Naval followed, tossing him a purging tonic.

"You're still crazy for doing this," she muttered.

Leon just grinned weakly. "And we're not even halfway."

The next arena rose slowly—no shifting plates or dramatic bursts of flame, just a gradual elevation into a chamber unlike the others. It was eerily still. Smooth, matte obsidian, no crowd, no light except the soft pulsing of runes on the floor. A thin mist curled around Leon's boots.

Rank 46 wasn't a spectacle.

It was a warning.

A low vibration thrummed through the floor. Leon's breath misted as the temperature dropped. Then, from the far side, his next opponent stepped forward:

Silvra the Still—an obsidian ant matron draped in veil-like silken shadows, her body wreathed in translucent armor that shifted with the air. She bore no weapons. No visible threat. But her presence was overwhelming.

A master of Kinetic Nullification, Silvra had held Rank 46 for over a century. She didn't overpower her enemies.

She silenced them.

The moment the chime sounded, Leon sprang forward, Shell Reverb coiled around his limbs like a spring-loaded engine. He swung.

Silvra raised a single finger.

And the punch… vanished.

Not stopped. Not blocked. Deleted.

Leon's feet slid, momentum gone. A chill went through his nerves. She had reflected none of his force back. She had simply… denied its existence.

"Her Shell Force," he muttered, backing away. "It's the opposite of mine."

Silvra glided forward. Every footstep muffled. Her presence erased wind, pressure, even magic. Leon's Shell Reverb flickered, struggling to find echoes to latch onto.

She struck—just a palm to his chest.

And he flew.

He hit the far wall, coughing blood. His ribs felt like shattered glass. A normal blow. Yet the silence of it was worse than any thunderous clash.

"Fine," Leon growled, his eyes burning. "You erase motion?"

He activated Aether Blood Surge, wrapping his core in the pulsing rhythm of life and time.

"Then let's see if you can erase what's already happened."

He dove in again—this time looping attacks into false angles, baiting Silvra's nullification field to activate early. The moment she tried to deny his punch, he twisted mid-strike, dropping low and launching a Shell Reverb Snap Kick at her ankle.

It landed.

The first strike to bypass her defense.

She faltered—but didn't fall.

Instead, her aura flared, and the entire arena began to slow.

She was nullifying time.

Leon's thoughts grew sluggish, breath thick like syrup. Even the Shell Reverb began to desync.

In that moment, he made a choice.

"No more holding back."

He unleashed Destruction Thread and Golden Arc Singularity, then fused it with Shell Reverb Absolute Return, embedding the tempo of all his previous battles into one punch.

He charged—body flickering, frame blurred by burning gold and black static.

Silvra raised both hands to erase him from existence.

Leon screamed and punched straight through the stillness.

The world snapped.

Cracks ran through the arena like glass, and Silvra was sent flying, her null field shattering in a wave of golden light. Her body struck the far wall—and slumped, motionless.

[Victory: Challenger Leon. Rank 46 Defeated.]

[Shell Reverb Mastery: 64%]

[New Passive Gained: Temporal Reverb — Attacks against time-dilated foes now echo 3 seconds later for half effect.]

Leon collapsed to one knee again, sweat pouring, blood on his lips, but fire in his eyes.

The Elder in the shadows nodded once more.

"You've begun to bend time… but this is not the last Stillwalker you will face."

***

Leon stood in the stillness of the broken arena, chest rising and falling. The aftershock of Temporal Reverb still echoed through his limbs—his muscles twitching from delayed strikes he'd barely registered in the heat of battle. Silvra had been unlike any opponent before: not just powerful, but foundationally opposite. A living denial of motion itself.

He wiped the blood from his chin, rolled his shoulders, and turned toward the elevator pad at the end of the chamber. The runes lit the way forward.

Rank 45 awaited.

Unlike the still void of Silvra's chamber, the next battlefield was a roaring crucible.

Literally.

Lava rivers ran through channels beneath tempered obsidian glass. Ash rained from the dark sky above. The stands burned with heat, and molten glyphs crawled across every surface.

Leon stepped out alone.

He knew the pattern now: Rank 50 to 41 were personal battles. Each fought solo. Each one tailored to the Ascender's limits.

And his next foe was no mere ant.

The announcer's voice echoed across the chamber:

"Now arriving… Raskhaal the Furnaceborn. Lord of the Blazing Core. Wielder of the Red Maw Gauntlets. The longest-standing Rank 45 champion."

The far gate exploded open.

Raskhaal emerged—towering, humanoid in build but clad in volcanic plates, steam hissing from joints and cracks. His fists burned like twin suns. Unlike the Obsidian Ants, this being radiated primal force. A hybrid ascender who had assimilated Infernal Body Force, forged from living flame and tempered by thousands of duels.

Leon's pulse quickened.

This wouldn't be a contest of subtlety.

This would be a brawl.

The moment the signal flared, Raskhaal charged like a comet, his fist trailing molten arcs. Leon shifted—Shell Reverb snapping into rhythm—but the punch collided with his guard.

Boom!

The impact cracked the arena floor, sending shockwaves upward. Leon spun from the blow, barely staying on his feet. Raskhaal didn't give him a moment—his second fist was already mid-swing.

Leon ducked and countered with a golden-threaded Shell Pulse punch to the gut—but Raskhaal didn't even flinch.