My Charity System made me too OP

The gate rose in silence, a towering arch of fractured crystal and flowing light.

Through it, Leon could see only shifting shadows—tall silhouettes moving as if the space beyond had its own gravity.

Varisse remained by the platform's edge, watching him. "One last thing," she said. "Sovereigns… don't fight for survival. They fight to prove ownership of reality. If you hesitate in there, they'll take even your presence away."

Leon gave a short nod, then stepped forward.

Crossing the gate felt different from any floor before. It wasn't a teleport—it was like being rewritten. His senses scrambled for a few seconds, then snapped into place.

The new floor was massive. Not an arena, but an open expanse of black stone, lit by suspended spheres of light drifting far above. In the distance stood a figure in dark, lacquered armor, seated casually on a throne carved into the stone itself.

The figure didn't rise.

"Another one?" the voice echoed across the chamber, deep and unhurried. "Varisse sends me a challenger already?"

Leon stepped forward. "Leon Aetheren."

The man tilted his head slightly, a faint metallic scraping sound coming from his armor. "Ravahn. Sovereign of the Fifth Seat."

His gaze sharpened. "If you've come to rise, you'll do it by walking over my claim."

The air between them thickened instantly. Leon's Timeline Drift itched to activate on its own, as if his instincts knew he wouldn't be able to face this man in normal speed.

Ravahn didn't move yet—he just looked at Leon, and for a moment, it felt like the floor tilted toward the throne.

"You have three steps," Ravahn said. "If you can take the third without kneeling, I'll fight you."

Leon felt the pressure bear down harder, testing more than his body.

He took the first step.

The stone cracked beneath his foot.

Leon shifted his weight forward, forcing air into his lungs.

The second step landed heavier than the first. The pressure was no longer just weight—it was ownership. Every inch of this floor felt claimed, as if the stone itself belonged to Ravahn's will. It resisted him, trying to reject his presence.

The Sovereign's gaze never wavered. "Good. Most collapse here. You've got defiance."

Leon clenched his fists. His ears rang, vision narrowing. The third step was right there—but it felt like moving through molten iron. His knees screamed to bend, his spine threatened to fold.

He triggered Timeline Drift, just a flicker—enough to step between moments, looking for a gap in Ravahn's control.

There wasn't one.

Instead, Ravahn's presence followed him into the drift, like a shadow he couldn't shake. "You think hiding in time makes you untouchable?" His voice was right beside Leon's ear, though the man still sat unmoved on his throne.

Leon growled low in his throat. "No. I think it makes me faster at telling you to get out of my way."

He pushed. Muscles burned. Breath tore through his lungs.

The third step landed with a heavy crack.

The pressure didn't vanish—it shifted, like a storm pulling back to make space.

Ravahn finally stood. The movement alone sent a ripple through the air that made Leon's hair whip back.

"Then rise, Leon Aetheren," Ravahn said, his voice carrying a strange satisfaction. "You've earned the fight."

The ground between them split into a wide dueling circle, glowing with crimson edges.

Ravahn reached over his shoulder and drew a blade longer than Leon was tall. "Let's see if your tricks can claim as well as survive."

The moment Ravahn's blade cleared its sheath, the pressure Leon had been enduring sharpened into something worse—intent.

It wasn't just gravity or aura now. This was the weight of someone who had already decided where and how their opponent would fall.

Leon didn't move first. He knew better.

Ravahn stepped forward—not fast, not slow, just inevitable. The edge of his sword dragged faint sparks from the floor as it came up into guard.

No feints. No hesitation.

One swing.

It didn't look special, but the air folded in its wake, space pulling tight like a closing jaw. Leon's instincts screamed that dodging left, right, or even back wouldn't work.

He dropped through the moment instead, sliding into Timeline Drift at the instant the arc reached him—

—only to find Ravahn waiting there.

The Sovereign's blade was already adjusted, as if he had seen Leon's choice hours ago.

Leon barely managed to pulse an Echo Burst to knock the strike a hair off-course, but the force still clipped his shoulder, sending a wave of numbness down his arm.

Ravahn's eyes gleamed. "Better than most. But still just reaction."

Leon gritted his teeth. "Then let's change that."

He split his focus—one half riding the normal timeline, the other drifting, overlapping both perspectives. From the outside, he flickered like a broken projection, striking from positions that technically didn't exist yet.

The first feint drew no reaction. The second earned a shift in Ravahn's stance. The third—

Clang!

Steel met steel. Ravahn had intercepted him cleanly again.

"Closer," Ravahn said, "but not there."

Leon's pulse pounded in his ears. This wasn't like Zein's loops or Varisse's sequence control. This was a fight against someone who owned the moment and would let nothing slip from their grasp.

And that meant…

He'd have to take it.

Leon steadied his breathing. Ravahn didn't rush—he stood in a stance so balanced it felt like no opening would ever appear.

If Leon tried to play on Ravahn's timing, he'd lose. If he tried to overpower him, he'd lose faster.

So he decided on something different.

He let go of control.

Instead of holding onto his own rhythm, Leon started feeding tiny, imperfect pulses into the arena—half-beats, skipped steps, subtle mistakes that didn't look intentional. His stance loosened, his blade wavered as if fatigue was setting in.

Ravahn's eyes narrowed. "You're degrading already?"

Leon said nothing. He let his guard drop just a little more.

The Sovereign moved.

It was exactly what Leon wanted. Ravahn's sword came down, perfectly angled to punish the slip—

—and at the last millisecond, Leon shifted into Timeline Drift, inside the gap Ravahn had committed to.

For the first time, Ravahn's swing missed entirely.

Leon's counter came instantly, Echo of Origin bursting toward the Sovereign's side—

CLANG!

Even caught off-balance, Ravahn's blade intercepted. The force of the block rattled Leon's arms.

The Sovereign stepped back, a faint grin forming. "Not bad. You took a piece of the moment from me."

Leon exhaled, shoulders tense. "I'll take the whole thing before this is done."

Ravahn's grin widened. "Then come take it."

The air thickened again. The next exchange would decide if Leon could truly steal control from a Throne-level fighter.