My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 298: Champion Arena

Despite the fortress-like structure of the Obsidian Ants' architecture, the market was anything but lifeless. The place buzzed with motion and energy. Towers of obsidian gleamed with faint luminescence, and thick mist curled through the alleyways, illuminated by bioluminescent fungi. Antfolk of all sizes scurried between stalls, bartering with hardened precision.

Some Ants were tall and armored, almost like humanoid tanks—clearly warriors—while others, smaller and more agile, worked as traders and craftsmen. Their chittering language mixed with broken Common as they interacted with outlanders like Leon's group.

"This is amazing," Millim said, her eyes wide as she ran up to a stall filled with hovering crystal insects—tame "Echo Beetles" that recorded sound and could replay it in song or speech. "Weird, but cute!"

Naval was already deep in discussion with a merchant about the structural design of a floating blackstone cube that levitated and rotated using pure body-force resonance—an invention that had nothing to do with mana.

"These guys really evolved their bodies instead of relying on magic," she muttered, impressed. "It's a completely different cultivation paradigm…"

Leon moved through the market slowly, observing everything. He passed a vendor selling armor made from molted Ant-plate—dark, sharp-edged, and astonishingly light. Another stall sold raw minerals, many of which were unrecognizable even to him: glowing ember-stones, whispering metals that vibrated with pressure, and clear chunks of "Voidglass," harvested from dimensional rifts beneath the floor.

Roselia walked beside him, her hand in his, silent for a moment. Then she nodded toward a nearby stall.

"Look at that."

A weapon merchant had displayed a sword made of something that looked like obsidian, but shimmered with a faint, red-gold pulse. Leon approached and tapped it. It didn't sing with mana like most weapons, but it responded to his presence—as if it read the tension in his muscles.

"Muscle-reactive blade," the Ant merchant said proudly, clicking his mandibles. "No magic. Just pure forged intent. Made from Deep Spine Ore."

Leon nodded. "Impressive craftsmanship. You guys really don't mess around."

The Ant simply nodded in return. "Strength is our mana."

Just then, Roman appeared carrying a crate of fruit-like minerals that glowed faintly. "These are edible. Weird, right? They don't rot. Apparently, they store energy like batteries."

Millim popped one into her mouth without hesitation. "Mmh! Tastes like lightning!"

As they continued browsing, a small chime echoed through the air—a tonal pulse that made every Ant in the area pause.

Roselia's eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

One of the Ant guards turned toward them. "Announcement tone. A Challenger has entered the Central Arena."

"Arenas?" Roman grinned. "Now that's something we do understand."

Leon smirked. "Let's check it out. Maybe it's time to test ourselves against one of their champions."

The market shifted around them as whispers spread. The Tower might have different rules on this floor, but strength still spoke loudest—and someone was calling for it.

Leon and the others followed the murmurs and movement of the Obsidian Ant citizens toward the far edge of the market, where a grand tunnel—carved with care and reinforced with obsidian ribs—descended deeper into the floor's core. The tunnel led into what was called The Shard Crucible, the Obsidian Ants' famed Central Arena.

The Crucible wasn't just a fighting pit. It was a cultural monument—a coliseum forged from volcanic crystal and resonant stone, laced with glyphs that vibrated subtly with body-energy instead of mana. Every inch of the arena was designed to respond to power, to amplify pressure and intent.

When the party emerged onto the observation ring, a sea of Antfolk already filled the stands. Obsidian Ants cheered, their clattering mandibles and stomping limbs echoing like war drums. Down in the arena, two massive warriors were locked in combat—one wielding gauntlets of ribbed obsidian, the other using only his bare, iron-like hands.

The gauntlet-user lunged—and was slammed into the ground so hard the arena cracked.

The crowd roared.

"That was a 'Crush Fall' technique," Naval said, narrowing her eyes. "He's not using mana at all. Just channeling force directly into his bones and muscles. Brutal."

"They refine their bodies to the limit," Roselia murmured. "Everything they do is about pressure—literal and metaphorical."

Leon's eyes followed the victor as he turned, raised one fist, and declared something in their language.

A nearby translator crystal echoed in broken Common:

"I seek the Outsiders. Let them prove the strength of their path."

The crowd quieted… then turned toward Leon's group.

Roman cracked his knuckles. "I think we're the 'Outsiders.'"

Leon stepped forward. "No point hiding. Let's show them what we're made of."

They descended to the arena floor, the air heavy with expectation. The announcer—an armored Ant with chitin-plated antennae—clicked and whirred as a crystal floated above him.

"Floor 300 welcomes new Ascenders. By tradition, a Trial of Strides must be honored. Outsiders may face our champions to earn respect, access to the Sacred Forges, and rights of deeper passage."

The crowd began stomping rhythmically.

Leon smirked. "Let's make this quick."

The Trial of Strides

Leon was first to enter the circle, facing the same Ant warrior from before—a towering, plated figure with four arms and muscles like woven steel.

The Ant warrior bowed. "Outsider. Prove the worth of your flesh."

Leon didn't speak. He raised a hand, and in an instant—a rift in space cracked open.

A massive humanoid being stepped from the void: a war-golem wrought from moon-metal and Voidsteel, an Origin Conjure known as Mourne Sovereign, standing three stories tall and burning with heatless flame.

The Ant crowd fell silent.

Leon's voice rang through the Crucible: "You wanted strength. Face mine."

The warrior charged, his steps pounding with pure pressure—but before he could even reach Leon, Mourne Sovereign moved.

A single swing.

A concussive blast of air followed. The Ant warrior was thrown into the wall with enough force to crack it, and slid unconscious to the floor.

Silence.

Then—thunderous stomping applause.

"Outsider Leon! Conqueror of the First Stride!"

"Will you continue the challenge?" asked the announcer.

Leon raised an eyebrow. "What are the benefits?"

The announcer chuckled darkly. "Kekeke, I was hoping you'd ask that." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

He leaned forward, voice echoing slightly through the amplification crystal.

"If you manage to reach the Top 100 in our arena rankings, we will teach you the secrets of Body Force—the special form of energy we've developed to strengthen our bodies beyond mana."

He then added with a gleam in his multifaceted eyes, "The higher you climb in the rankings, the more advanced Body Force cultivation techniques you will gain access to."