My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 262: Invaders II

Like wind-blown shadows, the Heralds surged forward with inhuman speed, limbs jerking and warping mid-stride. One launched toward Leon, its fingers elongating into jagged claws. Leon didn't flinch. With a single flash of movement, his sword was out—Voidbreaker steel, pulsing with ???-rank energy. He bisected the Herald with a clean cut, its body unraveling into threads of corrupted essence.

Behind him, Roselia spun into motion, her twin blades igniting with spectral fire. She danced between two Heralds, slicing one at the knee before finishing it with a reverse slash to the throat. The second swung at her with a blade dripping some black ichor—but she weaved beneath it and delivered a burst of fire point-blank into its chest, incinerating it with a blast of roaring violet flame.

Milim, grinning with anticipation, shouted, "It's smash time!" and slammed her foot into the ground. A ripple of kinetic force shot through the floor, launching three incoming Heralds into the air. Before they could land, she jumped—crushing one with an axe kick that cratered the terrain and sent shockwaves in every direction.

Naval chanted quietly, her hands glowing with light that pierced the twisted sky. "Sanctified Bolts," she whispered, releasing a barrage of radiant javelins. They struck Heralds mid-charge, turning them into ash with holy bursts that burned away their corruption.

Roman fought colder, smarter—intercepting movements, predicting counters. With a curved blade and strategic barriers, he manipulated the battlefield like a seasoned general. "These ones are weak," he muttered. "They've barely tasted a world. Must be scouts."

From the center of the fray, Leon closed his eyes for just a second.

The Voidbreaker engraving on his back flared.

And then—

He vanished.

In a blink, Leon reappeared behind four Heralds. Before they could react, he moved—four precise cuts, no wasted motion. Time itself seemed to pause, the echoes of his strikes ringing in delayed unison before the Heralds crumpled to the ground in silence.

The battlefield fell still again.

All around, corrupted forms dissipated, fading into the ether like rotted leaves. The air slowly calmed, and the pulse of invading energy began to weaken.

But just as Naval began healing a nick on Milim's cheek, Roman turned sharply toward the rift.

"Wait…"

The shimmer hadn't closed.

Something else was coming through.

Not a Herald.

This one… walked.

It didn't jerk. It didn't twitch.

It stepped through the rift like a man arriving home.

Clad in voidsteel armor, its face hidden behind a sleek mask shaped like a broken hourglass, the entity looked at the group—and then slowly raised one finger.

The rift behind it flared. Dark energy churned.

Leon narrowed his eyes.

"…A Herald Commander?"

"No," Roselia whispered. "That… that thing's a—"

"Harbinger." Roman finished grimly.

Leon's grip tightened around his sword.

"Then I guess… this floor's not done with us yet."

The air twisted, darkened, and froze as the Harbinger stepped forward.

One step.

That was all it took for reality to shudder around him. Shadows beneath the group rippled unnaturally, and for the first time since ascending the 100th floor, a chill of something ancient and wrong crawled up their spines.

"Fall back," Leon said sharply, sensing it instantly.

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But his team was already in motion.

Roselia was the first to clash. Her twin blades lit with radiant fire, she dashed in with deadly speed—but before she could land her strike, the Harbinger raised a single hand.

A wave of pressure exploded outward.

Roselia was flung across the field like a ragdoll, her blades slipping from her hands as she crashed into a pillar, coughing blood.

Roman was next—activating his barrier technique mid-stride. "Formless Guard!" A translucent shield enveloped him, backed by his strongest mana constructs.

The Harbinger didn't dodge.

It walked into the shield and shattered it with a tap of its finger.

Roman reeled back, shocked—until the Harbinger's knee struck his abdomen, folding him over, then hurled him back with a backhand that dented his armor.

"Two down," the Harbinger said with a voice like a collapsing star—calm, deep, final.

Milim launched in, screaming. "YOU WANNA GO?!"

She delivered a mighty punch that could crack mountains—but the Harbinger caught it… with two fingers.

Her eyes widened.

It turned her own strength against her and flung her into the sky before stomping on the ground. A jagged spire of darkened steel erupted from below and impaled her shoulder mid-air, pinning her like an insect. She growled and roared, trying to break free, but the Harbinger simply snapped his fingers and the spire burst into cursed fire.

Naval fired beams of sanctified light—but they fizzled before touching him. The Harbinger's mere presence corrupted the spells before they manifested fully. She tried to chant a defensive barrier, but—

He was already behind her.

One hand touched her back. A pulse of void energy rippled out.

She collapsed, unconscious, her spirit shuddering from the foreign energy eating away at it.

Liliana, last to stand, summoned a wall of phantom shields—ancestral spirits shielding her—but even they could only hold him back for two seconds. A flick of his blade dispersed the phantoms, and a swift punch dropped her like a stone.

Then, only Leon remained.

He stepped forward slowly, calmly.

The battlefield was cracked, his allies broken.

And yet—he looked unmoved.

"I see," Leon said, eyes narrowing. "So you are one of the old ones. Not just a servant. But a relic that remembers the ancient war."

The Harbinger tilted its head.

"You bear the engraving," it said. "And yet… not enough despair clings to you. Perhaps I should fix that."

Leon drew his blade.

The Voidbreaker engraving across his back blazed to life—its ???-rank aura erupting in a vertical geyser of power that split the sky. Space warped around him, his presence burning brighter and brighter until even the Harbinger's voice faltered.

"You are... an anomaly."

"Not an anomaly," Leon said as he vanished—and reappeared with his blade against the Harbinger's throat.

"I'm your end."

Sword against voidsteel, strikes that ruptured the very foundation of the Tower, shockwaves that collapsed mountains in the distance. The two moved faster than sight, their powers clashing with every law-defying blow.

The Harbinger summoned tendrils of entropic energy, shrouds of anti-magic, reverse-time pulses—but Leon adapted, broke through them one by one. He bled—but never stopped.