My Charity System made me too OP

From the falling glass, reflections emerged. Not illusions—echoes of past Leons. One wielded Shell Reverb at its peak. Another crackled with Core Destruction. A third bled pure Gold Magic. A fourth shimmered with Tandav's cursed flame.

Leon's breath caught.

"They're me…"

Vaer'Zhul pointed. "Kill them, or they will kill you."

The echoes charged, and Leon had no choice.

He clashed with the Shell Reverb version first—blows moving in exact synchronicity, canceling each other out. It was like fighting his own shadow, every strike met, every dodge mirrored. Leon had to twist the rhythm, deliberately miss a beat, creating a false vulnerability that baited the echo into overcommitting.

Boom.

One echo shattered, dispersing into glass shards.

But the others came faster.

Core Destruction Leon was relentless—ripping through the chamber like a wild firestorm. Leon ducked under a flame arc, rolling across the mirrored floor, and channeled Aether Blood to accelerate his tempo. His movements grew erratic, unpredictable—until he landed a strike to the echo's core.

The echo imploded into darkness.

He barely turned in time to block a golden spear from the next one. Light magic pierced his side. Blood sprayed, and Leon screamed. He used that pain—turned it into Shell Reverb, echoed the kinetic data into a sphere of stored force, and detonated it point-blank.

The Golden Leon disintegrated.

Only Tandav Leon remained now—dripping madness, its aura tainted with destruction. Every strike carried the weight of worlds ending.

Leon faltered.

One blow shattered three ribs. Another cracked his mask. His vision blurred with crimson as he activated Abyss Leech to drain ambient magic—but even that struggled to keep up.

He poured everything into one final clash—Origin Pulse, Tripart Echo, Gold Wrath, and Aether Overdrive—

And struck his own chest, disrupting the final echo at its core.

Silence.

Vaer'Zhul descended now, slowly clapping. "Impressive. But do you know what happens when the dream forgets its dreamer?"

The orb in his hand expanded—and suddenly, Leon was floating in space. No air. No sound. Only memory.

He saw his failure against the Sovereign Mirror. His loss of control against Tandav. The moment he nearly killed Roman. All of them played out around him, illusions and guilt binding him in a cocoon of paralysis.

"You are your weakness," Vaer'Zhul whispered from nowhere and everywhere.

"No," Leon growled, blood weeping from his eyes. "I was. But I grew."

He reached into his chest—not physically, but spiritually—and found the rhythm again.

Shell Pulse: Echo of Origin.

His body pulsed, and he shattered the dream.

Leon fell back into reality, slammed into the floor, and surged forward with a scream.

Vaer'Zhul met him, raising the orb.

But Leon no longer needed to dodge.

He let the orb touch his chest—and welcomed it.

In the next heartbeat, he echoed the Dreambane's power back at him through Karmic Loop.

The orb exploded, tearing Vaer'Zhul apart from within.

[Victory: Rank 16 – Vaer'Zhul the Dreambane Defeated.]

[Level Up: 631 → 634.]

Leon dropped to one knee, breathing heavily. His head throbbed. His vision dimmed.

Naval's voice rang distantly as the others rushed in. "Leon! What happened?"

He smiled faintly.

"I just fought myself... and I won."

As he looked up at the cracked mirrored dome above, he finally saw his reflection smiling back—wounded, scarred, but whole.

Leon sat at the edge of a quiet obsidian platform, one level beneath the dueling chamber of Rank 15. The gentle hum of the Shell Pulse architecture echoed faintly beneath him—resonant and alive, like a heartbeat. His body ached. His spirit was tired. But his mind was clear.

Roselia knelt behind him, gently wrapping new gauze around his ribs. Her hands were tender but efficient, and her silence was comforting.

"You nearly died in there," she said finally, voice soft.

"I nearly die everywhere," Leon murmured, glancing up at the shimmering dome of the chamber. "But that one was... different. Vaer'Zhul didn't fight my body. He fought my soul."

Roselia leaned into him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "And you still came out alive. That's what matters."

He nodded slowly. "Barely. He made me fight myself. Every version I've ever hated. I saw Tandav again—his face. The way I almost destroyed Roman. The blood on my hands from when I couldn't control my Core."

"You're not that person anymore."

"No. I'm someone worse... or better. I'm not sure which."

A few moments passed before Liliana joined them, arms crossed. "You can keep pondering philosophy after you get some actual sleep. Roman's already cleared your next trial schedule. You've got three hours. We'll wake you if anything changes."

"Three hours? That's generous." Leon chuckled faintly. "Feels like luxury."

Milim dropped down from above, upside-down and grinning. "I saved your food. Spicy stew, no mushrooms—just how you like it."

He caught the bowl she tossed. "Thanks."

She blinked, then poked his forehead with a finger. "Don't get lost up here, broody boy. You've got, like, a hundred more battles to go."

Leon smiled. "Thirty-five, technically. And I'm almost halfway."

"Thirty-five that get harder the closer you get to Rank 1," Roselia added. "You're not invincible, Leon."

He set the bowl aside and leaned back against the cool stone wall. "No. But I'm not alone either."

—

Later, in the inner sanctum of the monastery...

An Elder Ant approached through the mirrored corridor, his shell lined with age-glyphs and golden filigree. He bowed slightly as he reached Leon's resting chamber.

"You walk a dangerous path," he rasped, voice low and echoing. "But each wound you carry refines your frequency. Come. It is time for the next layer."

Leon stood, still sore but steady. "Another Shell Pulse principle?"

The Elder turned and began walking. "No. Not quite. You have learned Echo, Reverb, Karmic Loop, and Origin. This... is not a layer—but a refinement."

They arrived at a deep chamber lit only by a single pulsing rune on the floor. Within it, strange patterns rippled like oil on water.

The Elder pointed. "This is the place of Refraction. Here, you will learn how to break the tempo of others, not just echo it. To make their rhythm betray them."

Leon's eyes narrowed. "Shell Pulse: Refraction?"

"No. Something subtler. Something that cannot be taught—only stolen. Watch closely."

The Elder stepped into the rune and began to move. His limbs flowed in circular spirals—then suddenly snapped into sharp, misaligned beats that threw the very air into dissonance.

Leon staggered slightly just watching.

"You feel it?" the Elder said. "That unease? That broken flow? This is the art of combat fracture. Learn it, and your enemies will strike themselves."

Leon grinned slowly, blood still drying on his lip.

"I'm ready."