My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 423: Void Walker IV

Floor 521 – The Immortal Crucible

The moment they stepped through the gate, a searing pulse crawled through their bodies—not pain, but a restriction. Roselia gasped and dropped to one knee. Roman clutched his shoulder, wincing.

Leon’s HUD lit up in flashing red:

[WARNING: PAIN LOCK ENGAGED]

• Regeneration Disabled

• Healing Effects Nullified

• Revive Conditions: Locked

• Pain Sensitivity: 100%

Objective: Survive

Kael grunted as his legs buckled slightly. "What the hell is this?"

"Crucible," Aris said grimly. "A floor designed to break us."

They looked around.

The sky above was deep gray, choked with soot and hanging ash. The ground was cracked obsidian. Lava flowed through jagged trenches, and strange bone spires jutted out from the terrain like ancient fangs. The heat was unbearable—but not lethal. Not yet.

And then the whisper came.

Not from a speaker. Not from a Sovereign.

But from the floor itself.

"You cannot die here... only suffer."

A deep horn roared in the distance.

Then, the first Trial Beast rose—an armored titan made of fused bones, charred steel, and twitching nerves. Over six meters tall. Bladed ribs. A face that never stopped screaming.

[Trial 1 – Initiated: Fleshsteel Juggernaut]

Leon didn’t wait.

He charged in, leading the attack—striking low with raw physical force. No mana. No Shell Reverb. Nothing magical responded.

This was a pure fight.

Naval followed, his blade glowing faintly from residual enchantments—but the glow died instantly upon contact with the beast.

Kael roared as he leapt into the air, only for a spike from the creature’s back to gut him mid-air. Blood sprayed. He screamed.

And didn’t die.

"Kael—!" Roselia dashed forward, trying to drag him out. "It’s real—he’s bleeding out, and it’s not stopping!"

Leon gritted his teeth. His own arm had been sliced open from wrist to elbow, the skin flayed down to muscle. He felt every inch of it.

But he kept moving.

Kept fighting.

One slash. Two. Then a stab to the eye.

The beast staggered.

And then—imploded, bone and metal erupting into a cloud of molten blood and ash.

[Trial 1 – Cleared]

• Remaining: 2 Trials

Kael lay there, twitching, breathing shallowly.

Leon crouched beside him. "We don’t get to die here," he muttered. "But we can still break."

Aris was pale. "Two more like that?"

"No," Roman said quietly. "Worse. The floor adapts. It learns what hurt us—and makes it worse."

The ground shook.

Another horn.

This time, two creatures emerged—thin, insect-like horrors with faces that mimicked the team’s. Each one bore a twisted replica of a team member’s weapon.

And they moved exactly like them.

[Trial 2 – Initiated: The Doppelgangers]

Leon didn’t hesitate.

"Stick to pairs," he ordered. "Don’t fight your own mirror. Trade targets."

Even with that, the battle was brutal. Their opponents used identical moves, better versions in some cases, as if mocking their weaknesses. Every hit burned. Every block jarred bones. And every mistake meant real pain.

Naval lost an eye before the end.

Milim’s left leg was crushed.

They didn’t heal. They couldn’t scream it away. But they didn’t stop.

Leon fought his double last—beating it only after using a pure weight-shift feint that turned the clone’s perfect copy into a flaw.

[Trial 2 – Cleared]

• Final Trial Unlocking...

The ground cracked.

From the fissure rose a massive humanoid figure, bound in chains of molten iron.

And its face—

was Leon’s.

"This one is not your shadow. Not your echo."

"This... is your failure, made flesh."

The being roared.

And pain returned in full.

Final Trial – Flesh of Regret

Leon faced himself.

A creature made from every loss. Every hesitation. Every sacrifice that cost someone else.

The avatar of guilt.

Its fists were pure gravity. Its eyes leaked molten tears. And it whispered every name Leon ever failed.

"...Aren’t you tired of climbing?"

"What happens when you reach the top—and they’re not there?"

Leon didn’t speak.

He fought.

One arm broken. Ribs shattered. Blood soaked the crucible floor.

He didn’t use Shell Reverb.

He couldn’t use anything but resolve.

Strike by strike, inch by inch, he broke it.

Until the creature fell, chains unraveling, its mouth opening one final time to whisper:

"You carried us farther than we ever thought you could."

Then silence.

And a white light.

[All Trials Cleared]

• Title Earned: Unbroken Flame – You cannot be forcibly removed from combat by pain or suppression skills.

• Trait Acquired: Pain Memory Sync – Minor resistance to torture, stun, paralysis. +5% resist mental breakdown in hostile environments.

• Floor Cleared.

The team reappeared—bloodied, broken, barely upright.

But alive.

No cheers.

No smiles.

Just breathing.

Leon stood first.

"We move," he said. "We don’t stop here."

When the gate to Floor 522 opened, there was no rush of heat, no mechanical stench or pressure in the air.

Instead... birdsong.

Sweet. Calm. Gentle.

Leon blinked as sunlight spilled across smooth marble stairs leading into what appeared to be a radiant palace garden. Tall trees lined the path, leaves shimmering like gold foil, and crystalline flowers bloomed beside pools of clear water. Servants in pristine white and gold robes bowed silently as the team stepped forward.

[Welcome to Floor 522 – The Glimmering Court]

• Sovereign: Lysian, Lord of the Gilded Veil

• Floor Function: Desire Calibration

• Risk: Psychological Manipulation, Loyalty Corruption

• Combat Disabled

Primary Directive: Choose your Reward

"Choose our what?" Kael asked suspiciously.

Roselia frowned. "That’s a trap. It has to be."

Leon raised a hand. "Stay sharp. This floor isn’t meant to test our bodies—only our minds."

As they moved deeper into the garden, golden statues whispered softly, echoing each of their desires in their own voices:

"Kael... Aren’t you tired of fighting for someone else’s crown?"

"Roselia... You could have your family back. Just reach out."

"Naval... You want to prove yourself. Why not do it here, where everyone already believes in you?"

Leon heard nothing.

No statue whispered for him.

That alone made his skin crawl.

They reached the court—an open-air hall supported by marble pillars and surrounded by floating mirrors. And seated at its head, on a throne not made of steel or fire, but of woven dreams and golden lies, was Lysian.

His beauty was inhuman. Not flawless—impossible. Eyes that reflected what you wanted to see. A voice that was never too loud, never too soft. His robe shimmered with flowing threads of each member’s color palette.

"Welcome, Ascenders," Lysian said, spreading his arms. "You’ve fought. You’ve bled. You’ve suffered. But now... you’ve earned something better."

Leon didn’t move. "What’s the price?"

Lysian chuckled. "Oh, no price. Only acceptance. Choose from my court. Take what your hearts long for—and you may leave this Tower. Whole. Free."

"Liar," Aris spat.

Lysian’s expression didn’t shift. "I only give what’s already within you."

Suddenly, six archways appeared—one for each of them. Each pulsing with light, scent, memories.

Through Kael’s gate: a grand battlefield where he stood victorious over his rivals, his clan bowing at his feet.

Roselia’s showed a quiet home nestled in the hills. A table. Laughter. Warmth. A father’s hug.

Milim’s shimmered with the laughter of friends long lost.

Naval’s displayed a stage of glowing light, his name chanted by thousands.

Roman’s? Silence. Peace. A farm. No blood on his hands.

And Leon’s...

There was no gate.

Just a single stone pedestal in front of Lysian’s throne.

On it, sat a crown.

Not his Echo Crown.

But the original.

Wrought in white stone and gold wire. Inscribed with old runes, too faded to read.

Lysian gestured. "This was left behind by the one who climbed before you. The last one to nearly reach the top. He chose peace. You can too."

Leon stared.

He didn’t speak.

Because deep down, he wanted it.

He wanted it to be over. To rest. To accept that maybe someone else could finish it.

But then he looked at the others.

They were staring at their doors.

Roselia’s hands shook.

Naval stepped closer to his.

Kael’s jaw clenched.

Leon spoke.

Just once.

"Look at me."

They turned.

His voice wasn’t angry. Wasn’t loud.

It was steady.

"If you walk through those gates... you don’t come back."

Silence.

Lysian tilted his head. "Even if that were true... does it matter? They’ll be happy."

"Happy and chained," Leon said. "I’ve seen this before. Sovereigns who use hope as a leash."

Lysian finally frowned.

"Aren’t you tired of pretending you’re their leader? You’re just as broken. Just as lost."

Leon smiled, just a little.

"Yeah. I am."

He turned to his team.

"But I’ll stay broken if it means we climb free."

He walked away from the pedestal—and the others followed.

One by one, the gates flickered and died.

Kael turned his back on the war he always wanted to win.

Roselia stepped away from her father’s arms.

Naval whispered goodbye to the crowd.

And Roman walked away from the only silence he’d ever longed for.

The garden trembled.

Lysian’s throne shattered.

The Sovereign didn’t scream. Didn’t attack.

He just faded—disappointed.

[Floor 522 – Cleared]

• Echo Upgrade: Mental Fortitude +7% (Team-wide)

• Chain Protocol Node 3/12 Acquired: Lysian – Broken Veil

• Trait Gained: Illusion Immunity – All members resistant to Sovereign charm effects

Leon stood where the pedestal once was.

No crown.

No gate.

Just resolve.

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