My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 339: Fighting XVI

The pale floor rippled as dozens of runes exploded outward.

Words wrapped around Leon's limbs, binding him—spells of consequence.

[Wound Inscription – Echo Bleed: You take 200% more damage from your own attacks.]

[Mark of Memory Loop: You relive every injury sustained in the last 30 minutes.]

[Silent Pact: Your magic cannot be spoken.]

Leon fell to one knee, veins pulsing with ancient script.

"He's rewriting my reality," he growled. "Twisting my rules."

He closed his eyes.

"Then I'll unwrite him."

Leon reached deep.

Beyond Body Force. Beyond Shell Pulse.

Into his Core Unity.

"Origin Pulse... Rewrite."

Reality buckled.

The runes Vaer'Zhul had written? They flickered.

Because Origin Pulse doesn't obey records. It creates them.

Leon rewound his own kinetic state to before the curses hit. His injuries sealed mid-motion. His blood evaporated. His staff spun with renewed vigor—glowing gold, red, and shadow-black.

Vaer'Zhul blinked—an expression of disbelief in a being that should have no face.

Leon leapt.

"You want a truth?"

"Here's mine: I'm still writing this story."

Gold Magic: Manuscript of Might

Aether Blood: Memory Burn

Shell Reverb: Absolute Return – Final Echo Form

"Combined Core Strike — Narrative Collapse!"

He brought his staff down in a thunderous blow. The floor cracked, shelves fell, tomes ignited. Vaer'Zhul tried to scribe a counter-rune—

Too late.

The Archivist exploded in a plume of shattered parchment and raw mana.

[Victory: Rank 24 — Archivist Vaer'Zhul Defeated]

[Memory Echoes Absorbed: +7% Shell Pulse Synchrony]

[Level Up: 610 → 612]

Leon collapsed onto a burned scroll, chest heaving.

The arena returned to stillness.

The others were speechless above. No cheers. Only stunned silence.

"You okay?" Roselia asked gently, teleporting down to help him.

Leon chuckled weakly.

"I just punched a librarian to death with philosophy. I'm fantastic."

The moment Leon stepped into the new arena, his ears rang.

Not with silence.

But with an eerie, layered hum—as though the floor, air, and even his own heartbeat were caught in a chorus of endless whispering.

The arena was circular, but the walls pulsed like eardrums. Instead of stone, they were made of translucent membranes stretched between obsidian bones, and each step Leon took rippled out into a vibration that came back twisted and amplified.

Above, no sky. Only a ceiling of pulsing, glowing veins humming in rhythm. This floor was not a place—it was an organ, a resonant body built to house one voice.

A single figure stood at its center.

Cloaked in layered silk-like skin, the figure's face was featureless, save for a wide vertical mouth that split it from crown to chin. From that mouth echoed a breathless chant, shifting pitch and tone like a melody formed by grief and rage.

The announcer's voice, strained and distorted, crackled out:

"Rank 23: Kraal-Vos, the Everhowl Priest."

Leon readied himself, instinct already bristling. He could feel it. This wasn't just a sound-based battle.

This was a psychic siege.

Without warning, Kraal-Vos opened his maw—and sang.

The note struck Leon's entire body like a falling cathedral. His muscles vibrated, skin rippling unnaturally. He grit his teeth as cracks spidered across the platform beneath him.

"A frequency attack... It's bypassing armor and hitting nerve-endings directly."

Leon surged forward, activating Shell Pulse: Echo of Origin to stabilize his kinetic structure. Each footstep returned a sonic signature he used to navigate the distortions in the arena.

He swung his staff in a wide arc—missed.

Kraal-Vos had already shifted position mid-howl, now on a different vibration node, blending into the songlines of the arena.

"Gold Magic: Crescendo Pulse!"

Leon struck the floor with his staff, and a golden ring exploded outward. It hit Kraal-Vos, disrupting his tone—just long enough for Leon to close in and deliver a sharp elbow to the priest's side.

The blow landed.

But instead of pain, Kraal-Vos sang louder.

A counterwave erupted, hurling Leon across the arena.

"You're attuned to pain... What about confusion?" Kraal-Vos hissed, suddenly using language—not just sound.

Words twisted into notes, notes into commands.

Leon blinked.

The world spun.

His limbs felt inverted—left was right, up was down. His body was moving, but he wasn't commanding it. He was inside his own head, but the echoes were rewriting his senses.

"Illusion magic… no. Worse. Aether-borne harmonic possession."

He gritted his teeth, slamming his staff into his chest.

Shell Reverb: Absolute Return — Karmic Displacement!

The feedback blasted the illusion apart. His body snapped back into alignment, vision clearing just in time to see Kraal-Vos charging—mouth wide, scream gathering force.

Leon stepped forward.

"No more."

Leon raised his staff.

"Destruction Core — Hollow Spike."

The air cracked.

He thrust the spell forward—a lance of raw entropy pierced through Kraal-Vos's left shoulder, spinning him mid-scream.

But he didn't fall.

He sang through it.

And the arena began to crumble.

The ceiling veins turned black. The floor pulsed harder, faster. The very heartbeat of this domain was collapsing, trying to take Leon with it.

"He's sacrificing the stage. Trying to end this in one note."

Leon clenched his jaw. freёweɓnovel.com

"Then I'll silence you myself."

He gathered everything—Body Force, Shell Pulse, Destruction, Aether Blood, Gold Magic, and Abyssal resonance—and spun his staff once.

"Origin Choir — One Note Oblivion."

A pure, harmonic tone burst from Leon's core.

Everything stopped.

Even Kraal-Vos froze, his scream caught in his throat, unable to complete.

The floor shattered.

The membrane walls exploded outward in slow motion.

Kraal-Vos's body imploded in a bloom of reverse resonance—sucked inward into silence.

Then…

Nothing.

[Victory: Rank 23 — Kraal-Vos, Everhowl Priest, Defeated]

[Aether Core Adaptation Increased: +12%]

[Shell Reverb Synchronization Increased: +4%]

[New Skill Acquired: Harmonic Null – Temporarily silences all sound-based magic and illusions.]

[Level Up: 612 → 614]

Leon exhaled as the silence settled.

The arena reformed into stone beneath his feet.

From the shadows, an Elder Ant stepped forward, nodding.

"You continue to echo further than expected. The Dreambane was only a beginning."

Leon's knuckles cracked as he looked toward the rising platform.

"Then I'll keep moving. Rank 22—let's hear what nightmare that one brings."

Next: Rank 22 — The Sleepless Shatter.

A warrior who cannot die until you've shattered every memory of his name.