My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 327: Fighting IV

The obsidian arena once again shimmered to life, its glyph-lined walls glowing like molten veins. Leon stood alone at the center, his breath even, his presence heavier than before. His aura shimmered subtly—like the sky before a thunderstorm. The crowd of Obsidian Ants buzzed in hushed anticipation. After defeating Rank 39's Dreambane, all eyes were now fixed on the human challenger.

A deep voice thundered across the arena:

"Rank 38 Champion: Va'torr the Weightless!"

From the far gate, silence.

Then a whisper of wind.

Then—boom.

A figure shot into the arena so fast the air cracked around it. It was not an Ant. Not in the conventional sense. Va'torr was thin, sinewy, covered in a silken carapace that seemed weightless, translucent. Every motion he made displaced nothing—no echo, no gust, no thud. He stood barefoot, armored only in flowing exo-fabric that fluttered despite the still air.

Leon narrowed his eyes. A phantom?

Va'torr bowed with fluid grace. "Welcome, Shellwalker. Shall we see if you can strike the wind?"

The bell tolled.

Phase One: Phantom Step

Va'torr vanished.

Not with a blink—not like teleportation. He simply moved so fast, so efficiently, that the eye failed to track him.

Leon relied on Shell Reverb to sense the incoming force—ducked, parried, spun—and still took a heel to the back. Then a palm to the ribs. Then a flick to the temple.

Each hit was surgical. Clean. But the pain? Cumulative.

Leon grunted, sliding back. "Fast... not fast—efficient."

Va'torr appeared five feet away, hands folded.

"Speed is chaos. Precision is inevitability."

Leon's hands surged with Shell Reverb energy as he adjusted his stance. He let the damage pool inside, stored it. Waited for a rhythm.

Va'torr launched forward again, this time in a spiral. His strikes were like waves—unblockable, unreadable—except—

Boom.

Leon twisted mid-hit, using Shell Reverb to redirect the force through his hip into a spinning back elbow. The impact cracked through Va'torr's guard, forcing him back.

[Shell Reverb: Tier III – Tripart Echo Engaged.]

Leon surged forward, unleashing the stored power from earlier hits as three phantom strikes trailed his blow—impacting with each echo like thunder following lightning.

Va'torr reeled back, a line of greenish blood trailing from his lip.

But he smiled.

Phase Two: The Unseen Flow

The arena warped.

Glyphs activated in the air—not from the structure, but from Va'torr. He moved his hands in circular patterns, and the very weight of the battlefield changed.

Leon felt his body lurch—gravity surged, then lightened. He stumbled, the weight behind his punches gone. Karmic Loop couldn't anchor without a foundation.

Va'torr struck again, this time walking through the air, kicking downward like a falling blade. Leon blocked—but it felt like a mountain hit him. He was launched across the arena, skidding, coughing blood.

[Vital Signs Critical: 67% Damage Sustained.]

Roselia clenched her fists from the spectator box. "Damn it, Leon—"

Leon rose slowly, bones screaming. "He controls… inertia?"

Va'torr descended. "Weightless… is not without mass. It is mass without consequence."

Leon grinned, bloodied teeth flashing.

"Cute philosophy. Now watch mine."

Phase Three: Core Fusion Unleashed

Leon planted his staff.

Aether Blood ignited—his veins glowed silver as the divine fluid surged through him. Golden Magic wrapped around his limbs, bolstering his strikes. And from deep within his chest—

Destruction Core ignited.

The arena shuddered.

Abyss Mana leaked from his pores—staining the air black and purple, as reality itself began to thrum.

Va'torr stopped cold. "This… is not Shell Pulse."

"No," Leon said. "This is everything else."

He vanished—not with speed, but with force.

Boom.

He struck Va'torr across the jaw, and the kinetic feedback shattered the air around them.

Tripart Echo triggered.

The following blasts caught Va'torr midair, spinning him like a ragdoll. He tried to stabilize—but Leon was already above him.

Golden Bind: Chain of Gravity.

Leon snapped his fingers, and golden shackles dragged Va'torr down, locking his movement.

Destruction Sigil: Breakpoint Pulse!

A wave of crimson destruction magic exploded point-blank against Va'torr's core.

Aether Bloom surged, piercing his limbs, severing mana pathways.

Leon raised his staff—and for the first time, the ground beneath Va'torr cracked.

"Karmic Loop."

He activated it—not with malice, but with clarity. Every hit he had taken, every humiliation from Va'torr's perfect precision—

—was now his weapon.

The final blow landed like a comet.

Va'torr hit the arena floor.

Silence.

Then—

"Victory: Challenger Leon. Rank 38 Defeated."

Leon fell to his knees, gasping.

His hands trembled. Blood ran from his nose and ears. But he was conscious.

And standing.

Va'torr, still lying on the ground, chuckled hoarsely. "Strike the wind, did you?"

Leon gave him a tired smile. "No... I became the storm."

—

[Shell Reverb Mastery: 85%]

[Aether Blood Compatibility: Improved]

[You are now eligible to receive a memory scroll of Va'torr's Precision Matrix.]

As Leon limped from the center of the arena, each step echoed with the toll of exertion. The obsidian ground, scorched and cracked beneath the force of his final assault, whispered of the violence that had just occurred. Spectators were silent—not from disappointment, but from awe. No outsider had ever bested Va'torr. Not without cheating. Not without collapsing afterward.

But Leon walked—barely, yes—but unaided.

From the archway ahead, Roselia and Roman were the first to reach him. Roselia rushed to his side, steadying him as his legs buckled.

"You're out of your damn mind," she whispered, her voice trembling with worry, her arms tightening around him. "You fought like you didn't care if you died."

Leon gave a weak smirk. "That's not true. I fought like I couldn't afford to."

Roman grinned and tossed a high-grade elixir into Leon's hands. "You just barely survived a spatial displacement master who can make gravity dance. You're lucky he didn't twist your organs inside out."

"I think he tried," Leon muttered, drinking deeply.

The moment the potion touched his lips, his internal systems stabilized. The divine mixture numbed the pain and began mending torn flesh, ruptured vessels, and fragmented mana veins.

From above, a new voice spoke—calm, measured, old.

"Challenger Leon. You have overcome what none have before. The Mirror. The Dreambane. The Weightless. Now your body carries wounds most mortals could not even comprehend—yet you stand. Impressive."