My Charity System made me too OP

The next day, Shubh returned to Blue Wind City, just as the annual festival was underway. The streets pulsed with life—vibrant colors, cheerful music, and the laughter of children filled every corner. Stalls lined the roads, offering everything from caramelized fruits to fragrant roasted meats, while dancers in traditional attire twirled to the rhythm of drums.

Up on the balcony of the City Lord's Castle, Luna, the current City Lord, stood beside Leon, her eyes drifting over the happy crowd below. The warm lights of paper lanterns reflected in her eyes, but there was a shadow behind them—something quiet and lingering.

"The last time I attended this festival… it was with my father," she said softly, a melancholic edge in her voice. "And now, just a year later… he's no longer with me."

Leon remained silent for a moment, then gave a quiet sigh. He didn't offer empty words. Instead, he extended his hand, gently placing it over hers—a simple, silent gesture of comfort. She looked at him, surprised at first, but then her gaze softened.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Behind them, the city celebrated with joy and noise. But on the balcony, amidst the flickering lantern light and the wind that carried distant laughter, the two stood in peaceful silence—just for a while.

After a while, Shubh returned, descending silently from the skies and landing gracefully behind Leon.

"Master, I have returned," she said calmly, her voice soft but carrying a weight that could twist the air itself.

Leon didn't look back. He simply raised a hand slightly, gesturing for her to remain silent.

Shubh tilted her head, confused for a moment—but obeyed. Her lips sealed, and her ancient aura dimmed down like a storm being pulled back into the depths.

He stood beside Luna, saying nothing, simply letting the cool night wind drift between them.

After a few quiet moments, Luna smiled faintly and looked up at him.

"Thank you… again," she said, her voice gentle, carrying a mix of pain and gratitude. Then, with a slight bow, she turned and began to walk away.

As she passed by, her gaze briefly fell on Shubh.

Shubh only smiled in return—a sharp, otherworldly smile that never quite reached her eyes. Her lips parted slightly, just enough to reveal a hint of the fanged grin beneath.

It was fortunate that Luna didn't truly see it—if she had, she might've been scarred for a lifetime.

Shubh turned her gaze back to Leon, her expression now calm and composed—as if that horrifying, fanged smile had never existed.

Shubh turned her gaze back to Leon, her expression now calm and composed—as if that horrifying, fanged smile had never existed.

"Here is the crown, Master," she said, her tone respectful yet filled with pride. From the void behind her, Six distinct crowns materialized, each radiating with the essence of the continent it came from.

Leon sat on the edge of the balcony, the moonlight casting a silver glow on his relaxed posture. He looked at the collection, a faint smirk forming on his lips.

"Six crowns..." he murmured. "So the throne of the world is already halfway mine."

Shubh bowed her head. "As you ordered, I retrieved each one—crushing all who resisted. No false rulers remain."

Leon rose from his seat and walked up to her, his presence commanding. Shubh lowered herself to one knee as he stopped in front of her.

He reached out and picked up the first crown—crafted from dragon scales and burning with the embers of an eternal flame.

"The first one… the crown of the Dragon Continent," he declared. The weight of it seemed to shake the very mana in the air.

He placed it gently over his head, its aura stabilizing as if acknowledging its new true owner.

Shubh looked up. "Each one waits to be claimed by your will. All continents will kneel, in name… and in truth."

Leon stood tall, the crown of the Dragon Continent resting upon his brow like a mantle of ancient power. Its ember-lit scales shimmered against the moonlight, a flicker of flame dancing in his eyes. For a moment, the balcony around him grew warmer, the very air pulsing with draconic heat.

He lifted the crown from his head and gently set it on a crystalline pedestal that shimmered into being beside him—a construct of his magic, made to display the spoils of dominion.

Then, he turned to the second crown.

It pulsed with an eerie glow, forged of ethereal silver and veins of deep violet crystal. Claws and fangs adorned its base, and a faint growl echoed from within it—like a distant chorus of beastly pride.

Leon took it in his hands.

"The Beastmen Continent," he whispered. "Still stubborn to the end… but now they serve."

He placed it atop his head. His form rippled slightly—his muscles tightened, and his senses sharpened for a breathless moment, as if the raw instinct of countless apex predators surged through him. But the energy quickly bent to his will.

With a slow exhale, he placed the second crown next to the first.

Now came the third—an elegant yet dangerous piece, seemingly woven from silver leaves and sharp crystal thorns. A soft fragrance of ancient trees and moonlit meadows wafted from it.

Leon traced a finger along its edge.

"The Elven Crown... prideful, pure, and so tragically brittle."

As he wore it, his body briefly glowed with a radiant green aura, light as wind, old as the forest. His mind brushed against the deep-rooted arrogance and wisdom of a race long fallen into stagnation.

He sighed. "Too blind to adapt. But still useful."

He removed it and set it beside the others.

The fourth crown was dark and beautiful—woven from obsidian and ruby, pulsing with shadows and temptation. Its presence was seductive, alluring, and absolutely lethal. The air grew cold as he held it.

"The Crown of the Dark Continent… vampires, dark elves, werewolves. A festering pit of secrets and betrayal."

He placed it atop his head. His shadow stretched unnaturally behind him. For a moment, the world seemed to darken around him, and whispers of forgotten oaths clawed at the edges of his mind.

But Leon's will was absolute. The shadows bent.

He placed it beside the others.

The fifth crown radiated heat—scorched steel lined with molten gold, its center pulsing like a heart of lava. This was a crown forged in the belly of a volcano, tempered in endless fire.