My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 157: Divine Ruins II

On Milim’s side, her Blood Grand Knight roared as he cleaved through undead in rapid succession, his greatsword absorbing the essence of the fallen, making him even more monstrous in power. His very presence caused the battlefield to tremble, and each of his swings shattered the sound barrier.

The Dark Grand Knight, in contrast, moved like a ghostly executioner, teleporting from shadow to shadow, cutting down even the elite Death Lich guards before they could react. However, the Prophet watched from his throne of bones, his skeletal fingers forming intricate symbols in the air.

Suddenly, the battlefield froze.

A blinding golden sigil appeared in the sky, covering the ruins in an oppressive, divine light.

The Prophet grinned, his decayed face stretching grotesquely. "You fools think you can stand against the true will of faith? Even if I am false, faith itself is a power you cannot erase!"

The sigil exploded, sending out divine purification waves, attempting to erase all unnatural existences—including the summons.

From their vantage point, Milim clicked her tongue. "Tch, annoying. If this light wipes out our summons, we’ll be forced to fight personally."

Leon, however, smirked. "Not necessarily."

He raised his hand, and a pulse of Origin Mana spread out from his body, forming a barrier of absolute neutrality—a concept-defying shield that negated both divine and necrotic energy alike. The purification wave broke against it like waves crashing upon an immovable cliff.

"Not bad," Roselia mused, her golden eyes gleaming. "But we still need to do something about that Death Lich. As long as it exists, the undead won’t stop reviving."

Roman cracked his knuckles. "Then why don’t we kill it ourselves?"

Leon chuckled. "Because this is our summons’ fight. If they can’t handle an opponent like this, then we’ll never be able to reach the next level of power."

Milim nodded. "Fine. But if they start losing, I’m stepping in."

Leon shrugged as he looked at his summons. "Hmm, undead with holy magic immunity… I wonder if I can get something like that," he mumbled as he gazed at the Prophet undead.

Soon, his summons had cleared out the normal Arch Liches, who were most likely former Archbishops and high-ranking priests of the church. This left only the Death Lich—the Pope or Prophet—the true boss of this dungeon.

Leon snapped his fingers, recalling his summons. The boss had a modified trait that prevented any damage from their attacks. He practically just sat there, unaffected, while Leon’s and Milim’s summons attacked him at full force—but nothing happened.

"I guess we have to do it ourselves," Leon said as they nodded.

"No, I’m doing it alone," he added, stepping forward.

Roselia and Roman shrugged, calmly lying on the bed of stone, while Naval protested. However, Lilian covered her mouth and dragged her back. Millim, without saying anything, just sat back as well.

"Now, what should I use?" Leon mumbled, eyeing the Prophet. The undead was clad in white and gold robes, with a strange sigil embroidered like a badge on his chest. He stared at Leon, his golden flames flickering within his hollow eye sockets.

"Do you wish to change me, mortal?" the Prophet asked, his voice eerily calm.

Leon smirked. "Change you? Don’t overestimate yourself." He cracked his neck and continued, "To me, you’re nothing but an ant I can crush effortlessly."

The Prophet Priest slowly stood up, golden aura flaring around him. "You dare to defy the Saint of the Mother of Light?" he asked, his presence growing heavier.

Leon simply stared at him and said, "Yes. I’m going to smack you."

With that, he summoned his Axe of Annihilation.

The massive axe materialized in his hand, landing with a thunderous impact on the ground. The sheer weight of the weapon caused deep cracks to form beneath it, showing just how terrifying its raw power was.

But Leon effortlessly lifted it with one hand, resting it on his shoulder.

The Prophet sneered. "Reckless fool," he muttered before a golden beam of light blasted toward Leon. Continue reading at novelbuddy

Without hesitation, Leon swung his axe, cleaving the incoming divine attack in two as if it were nothing.

A faint grin appeared on his face.

Now, it was time to unleash his Word-Destroying Berserker class.

Leon exhaled slowly as his aura shifted, turning into a storm of raw destruction. The air itself trembled as red-black energy surged from his body, crackling with chaotic power. His Word-Destroying Berserker class was not one he used often—it was an ability designed for pure annihilation, meant to erase anything that stood in his way.

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The Prophet narrowed his burning golden eyes, sensing the shift in power.

Leon adjusted his grip on the Axe of Annihilation, its blade now humming with a force that shattered reality itself.

"You boast of being a Saint, yet all I see is a fraud clinging to hollow divinity," Leon said, rolling his shoulders.

The Prophet’s aura flared violently, and the entire ruined cathedral trembled. Golden pillars of holy light erupted from the ground, forming divine spears that hovered around him like a celestial army.

"Then, be judged by the Mother of Light!" the Prophet roared, and with a wave of his skeletal hand, the divine spears shot toward Leon, their power enough to erase mountains.

Leon grinned.

He swung his axe.

A single horizontal slash tore through the battlefield, and in its wake, everything was reduced to nothingness.

The spears? Gone.

The divine aura? Erased.

The Prophet? Forced to retreat mid-attack, barely avoiding the annihilation.

The undead staggered, golden cracks appearing across his body. His so-called divinity was struggling to maintain form under Leon’s overwhelming presence.

"What… what manner of being are you?" the Prophet rasped, his voice laced with disbelief.

Leon tilted his head, rolling his wrist as the axe glowed brighter. "Didn’t I already tell you?" he said casually.

"I’m the one who’s going to smack you."

Without warning, Leon vanished from sight.

The next moment, he reappeared above the Prophet, his axe already mid-swing. The sheer force of his attack created a sonic boom, shaking the entire cathedral.

The Prophet raised his golden staff, trying to conjure a barrier—

But it was pointless.

Leon’s axe came down like judgment itself.

The ground shattered, an explosion of dust and divine energy erupting like a nuclear blast. The very laws of magic warped, and an enormous crater formed where the Prophet once stood.

Silence followed.

Millim and the others, who had been casually watching from the side, blinked in surprise.

Naval let out a low whistle. "Damn," she muttered.

Lilian grinned, stretching her arms. "He’s always so brutally efficient."

Roselia yawned. "Hmph. Took him long enough."

As the dust settled, the Prophet was revealed—half of his body missing, golden fire leaking from his wounds. He barely clung to existence.

Leon walked toward him, dragging his axe along the ground.

"This isn’t possible…" the Prophet wheezed.

Leon crouched down, staring into the flickering flames of his enemy’s hollow eyes.

"You talk too much," Leon said with a smirk.

Then, with one final swing, he erased the Prophet from existence.

With his death, only a few drops appeared this time, unlike before.

The first item was Light Faith [Pope’s Robes], a holy attire designed for priest-type classes. However, none of them specialized in such magic, making it useless to their group.

The second item was a skill book titled "Word of Charisma." It was a legendary skill that granted its wielder the power to make others listen and obey when they spoke.

"He probably used this skill to build his empire," Leon mused as the others nodded in agreement.

"Now, let’s get out of here," he said, stretching.

With that, they left the Divine Ruins after completely destroying them.

Though, as always, the ruins would rebuild themselves within 24 hours.

As they left the Divine Ruins, the group stepped onto the worn stone pathway leading back to the city. The air was thick with the lingering remnants of holy energy, but Leon barely spared it a glance. The ruins would restore themselves soon, like a cycle doomed to repeat itself.

Millim stretched, letting out a yawn. "That took longer than expected," she muttered.

Naval, still brushing dust off her rapier, scoffed. "More like someone decided to solo the boss instead of letting us help."

Lilian chuckled, crossing her arms. "Not that it mattered. He handled it just fine."

Roselia and Roman walked slightly ahead, engaged in their own conversation.

"This skill book is broken," Roselia commented, flipping through the Word of Charisma book. "If someone weak had it, they could still control an entire kingdom."

Roman nodded. "It’s a weapon in the wrong hands. You keeping it?"

Leon glanced at her and shrugged. "I’ll hold onto it for now. Might be useful."

As they neared the city gates, the warm glow of lanterns and streetlights came into view. The city was still bustling despite the late hour, with merchants closing their stalls and adventurers lounging in taverns. The air smelled of roasted meat, ale, and fresh bread, a sharp contrast to the cold, eerie ruins they had just left.