My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 330: Fighting VII

Roman was the first to break the silence.

"You didn't just beat it... you rewrote it. That wasn't a fight. That was a reckoning."

Leon didn't respond right away. He stared at the Dreamer's Seal still glowing faintly in his hand. It pulsed with a strange warmth—one that felt like both a blessing and a curse.

"Vaer'Zhul wasn't trying to kill me," Leon murmured. "It wanted me to break myself. Make me question everything I've climbed toward."

Liliana knelt nearby, her voice soft. "It almost succeeded."

Millim, her usual energy tempered by the gravity of what they'd just witnessed, nodded solemnly. "But it didn't."

Leon finally looked up, eyes clearer now, though still strained. "The further we go… the less this is about fighting others. It's about fighting who I used to be. Who I could've been."

He turned to the Dreamer's Seal and pressed it to his chest.

A pulse.

[You have internalized: Fragmented Lucidity.]

[New Passive Skill: Self-Anchored Mind – Reduces all mental interference by 80%. Increases resistance to illusion, fear, and identity erasure.]

The glow faded.

Naval folded his arms. "You're changing, Leon. You're not just stronger—you're deeper. You're… becoming something else."

Leon chuckled dryly. "Let's hope it's something I can still control."

Just then, the voice of the arena elder echoed across the field again. This time, it wasn't a challenge.

It was an invitation.

"Challenger Leon. The Elder Seers request your presence. It is time you received the final teaching of Shell Reverb."

The team froze. Even Roselia's breath caught.

"The Fourth Layer?" she asked.

Leon shook his head. "No… I already have Absolute Return. This must be something beyond."

They exchanged glances.

Roman stepped forward. "Do you want to rest first?"

Leon stood slowly, flexing his hands. Despite his pain, his body radiated newfound clarity.

"No. I'm ready."

The gates to the inner sanctum opened—a towering archway of obsidian shaped like two fists meeting in eternal impact. What lay beyond was not just another fight.

It was a revelation.

The Obsidian Breach Monastery awaited.

And with it, the final step before the next crucible.

The Echo of Origin.

The walk to the monastery was unlike anything Leon had experienced so far.

Gone were the sounds of insectoid chants and the clang of obsidian weapons. Here, silence reigned—not as absence, but as presence. The air was thick with memory, as if each breath pulled in fragments of ancient battles, fallen champions, and buried truths.

The monastery wasn't built—it was shaped. Hewn into the side of a massive living geode, its walls shimmered faintly with veins of pulsing amber and black crystal. The corridor opened into a chamber vast enough to drown the echoes of footsteps, yet it felt crushingly close—like the past pressing inward from every side.

There, atop a crystalline dais, stood the Elder Seer.

He was different from the others. His chitin was translucent, showing slow waves of energy pulsing through his inner shell. In his six arms, he held not weapons—but relics of ascension: a broken gauntlet, a faded eye sigil, a mirrored shard, and a single thread of obsidian silk.

He bowed.

"Leon. You who have dared to Rebound Force. To Echo Pain. To Return Fate."

"You now stand at the door of the forgotten pulse—the fifth ripple… Echo of Origin."

Leon stepped forward, his boots scraping crystal dust.

"But I already hold Absolute Return," he said.

The Elder tilted his head, insectile eyes gleaming.

"And Absolute Return is the limit of reaction. It is a loop closed. But you are no longer reactive."

"You are becoming a source."

"The Echo of Origin is not about taking pain and returning it. It is about choosing pain. Creating rhythm. Forging your own pulse through time and space, imprinting your essence onto the battlefield."

Leon's breath hitched.

"You mean… I create the force instead of answering it?"

The Seer smiled—or the closest a chitinous being could.

"Yes. Not return… but initiate. Not response… but command."

He stepped aside, revealing an obsidian pit swirling with layered time echoes—flickers of Leon's past fights, projected across the walls: Kragg's charge, Tur'Zhan's echo strike, Vaer'Zhul's mental collapse.

"Enter the Ancestral Pulse Spiral. Your body will remember all you've endured. But now, you must choose which echoes become you."

"Forge your own Reverb."

Leon stepped toward the pit.

His team stood behind him. Roselia reached out and squeezed his hand once, fiercely.

"You come back with your heart intact," she whispered.

He nodded. Then dove in.

Inside the Ancestral Spiral

The moment he entered, time fractured.

Each fragment of memory was a test.

Kragg's blow—Leon caught it before it landed. Chose to initiate the clash rather than deflect. Pain was not a lesson here—it was his tool.

Tur'Zhan's spear—Leon stepped forward instead of dodging. Imposed his rhythm. He felt the spear bend, not from physics—but from will.

Xa'Roj's shattering tempo—Leon recreated it, then distorted it into something new. He became the echo, not the receiver.

Finally, Vaer'Zhul's memory prison.

This time, Leon didn't endure the illusion.

He shattered it before it formed.

The spiral pulsed one final time. His body lifted, burning with intent—not stolen, not borrowed—but self-made.

[Shell Pulse: Echo of Origin Unlocked]

You now control the initiating rhythm of the battlefield.

Create a unique combat tempo that can override opponent cadence.

Each motion builds resonance, culminating in a user-defined "Final Echo."

Shell Reverb Mastery: 92%

Leon landed at the edge of the pit, steam rising from his back.

The Elder bowed deeper this time.

"You have taken pain… and turned it into command. You are now not a student of echoes… but their conductor."

Leon returned to his team, the spiral fading behind him.

"...So," Millim asked with a grin, "can you punch time now?"

Leon smirked. "Let's find out."

Inside the great obsidian arena, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Rank 35 wasn't just another battle—it was a proving ground for warriors nearing the pinnacle of Shell mastery. Leon, having emerged from the Monastery with the "Echo of Origin" burning through his limbs, now stood at the threshold of his next crucible.

The announcer's voice echoed:

"Next match—Leon the Tempestwalker… versus Rank 35: Mar'Zhal the Sixfold Echo."