My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 242: Becoming the Ruler V

Shubh landed, claws cracking the golden marble path.

"You're the Fairy King?" she asked, voice flat.

The being floated down fully, smiling with both warmth and a hidden sharpness. "Yes. My name is Caelis Virelume, King of Aestravale, Sovereign of the Thousand Lights."

"You look like a girl," Shubh commented, her many tendrils curling curiously.

"Flattery won't help you," Caelis said, still smiling. "But I appreciate the honesty."

Shubh rolled her neck, black tendrils twitching like serpents around her body. "Then I'll be honest again—kneel and swear your crown to my master. Or be torn apart and offered to the Void."

Caelis chuckled, floating back slowly. "You creatures of darkness… always so blunt. But I'm afraid I must decline."

With a snap of their fingers, the illusion shattered—revealing a massive army.

Over ten thousand fairy warriors stood in the air and on the land: some with glowing bows made from living trees, others with spell-crystals orbiting them like planets. Enchanted beasts roared as they emerged from invisible folds. The trees themselves moved.

Behind them, skyships woven of vines and gold readied magic cannons.

"Let the heavens witness our defiance," Caelis said, raising their hand. "Let our will shape the world!"

Then the skies erupted.

Shubh's wings flared wide, absorbing the first barrage of celestial arrows. They exploded with radiant force, but her dark aura pulsed outward, negating them into swirling shadows. The air filled with war cries and musical chants as the fairies unleashed their coordinated assault.

They moved like a symphony—spellblades slashing in unison, wind-dancers soaring between gaps, healing songs echoing from their backlines.

But Shubh was a nightmare given form.

She vanished in the blink of an eye, reappearing behind a formation and tearing through it with a storm of tendrils. Her laughter echoed across the battlefield like a song of lunacy, beautiful and horrifying. Arcane shields tried to hold her back, but her madness corroded reason itself—weakening their formation, cracking their discipline.

She summoned mouths in the air—massive fanged vortexes that swallowed battalions whole.

But the Fairy King wasn't idle.

From the floating palace above, Caelis descended with wings of pure starlight, and in their hand formed a spear forged from the dreams of ten thousand generations.

"I name thee enemy of beauty," Caelis declared, eyes glowing with divine fury.

With a shout, Caelis threw the spear. It pierced through dimensions, exploding into mirrors of infinite light, trapping Shubh briefly in a kaleidoscope of illusions.

A thousand versions of herself appeared around her, each casting her deepest fears.

But she smiled.

"I devour fear."

With a scream that warped the air, she broke through the illusions, her form expanding—true madness unveiled. Her hair writhed like tentacles of reality, and an eye opened on her chest, blinding all who stared.

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The fight escalated into pure chaos.

Caelis danced through air like a waltz, warping space with every step, while Shubh painted the sky in black flame and shadow. Their clash created shockwaves that shattered floating mountains and silenced entire battalions.

But eventually—

Shubh stood victorious.

She walked through the broken palace, the moon-throne cracked. Caelis lay embedded in the wall, breathing heavily, wings tattered.

"…So this is madness," they whispered.

Shubh stood over them.

"Beauty has its place. But my Lord's Will… is absolute."

She placed a black crown forged of dream-eater bone on Caelis' brow. "Remain King. But your throne now belongs to Origin."

Caelis closed their eyes. "As long as the music continues… I care not."

The fairy continent was conquered. Not by brute force—but by breaking even the illusions they had long believed eternal.

And now, only two more continents remained.

The Human Continent and the Beastman continent.

***

The skies darkened as Shubh soared above the Savagewild Expanse, the land of the Beastmen—where civilization was carved into jungles, deserts, and wild, mountainous terrain. The continent itself didn't look like a kingdom or a nation. It was alive. Pulsating. Ancient. The terrain shifted between thunderous stampedes and vast canopies hiding entire cities grown from roots and bones.

Unlike the civilized nations she had conquered, this land didn't offer grand palaces or sparkling towers.

It offered teeth, claws, and fury.

The Beastmen were not like the werewolves or vampires of the Dark Continent, who cloaked themselves in human form, hiding behind elegance and masks. No, the Beastmen were beasts first and foremost—humanoid in shape, but still raw with the essence of nature's savagery. Their muscles rippled with wild power, fur covering limbs, fangs prominent even while they spoke. Their claws weren't for show, and their tails and ears weren't ornamental.

To them, a humanoid form was simply a tool—a convenient vessel to speak, reason, or create tools. But when rage took them, or when death clawed at their throats, they would shed that "convenience" and return to their true war forms—massive, primal avatars of their inner beast.

And that shift came with a cost.

In those forms, they burned brighter… but shorter. Each transformation shortened their lifespan, each battle in that state took a toll on their soul. As such, they only transformed when it mattered—when it was truly war, truly life or death.

Shubh knew this well.

She could feel their bloodlust rising from the land itself. The entire continent was howling.

Word of her conquests had reached them. The Beast Kings, leaders of the scattered tribes, had gathered for the first time in centuries at the Prime Den, a massive natural stadium formed in the hollow of a volcanic mountain. Each Beast King ruled over different domains—lions, tigers, bears, serpents, eagles, and more.

But above them all stood one being.

Thauron, the Great Apex.

A lion-beastman standing nearly ten feet tall in his humanoid form. Golden fur like fire in the wind, eyes like molten gold, a mane braided with the fangs of dragons. His roar had once cracked an entire valley and his claw could split mountains. But he sat still now, resting upon a throne of bones, awaiting the arrival of the one who dared march across the world unchecked.