My Charity System made me too OP
Chapter 361 - 361: Living Coal II

The dawn bell hadn't yet rung when the heavy doors of the rest chamber creaked open. A cloaked dwarf stood there, his cloak embroidered with flame-kissed runes only seen on master blacksmiths.

"You two," he growled, eyes sharp beneath a scorched brow. "The Elders have watched. You're summoned to the Heartforge. Grand Ember Test begins at midday."

He turned without waiting for a reply and walked off, heavy boots echoing.

Leon and Roman exchanged a glance.

It was time.

IRONRIFT CITY – HEARTFORGE HALL

They were led through passageways deeper than any they'd yet seen. The air grew heavier, denser. Mana practically hummed in their lungs. The stone was darker here—obsidian layered with glowing gold veins. Every wall bore etched murals of Dwarven legends: battles, gods of flame, weapons forged in volcano hearts.

Finally, they entered a vast circular chamber.

At its center roared the Heartforge—a living super-furnace fed directly by a magma conduit from Floor 301's core. The flames were blue-white, rimmed with gold. The heat was near unbearable, even for Ascenders.

Seven Dwarven Elders stood at the edges, each one bearing marks of a Master Forgebinder.

The High Forgebinder stepped forward.

"You who are outsiders… Leon. Roman."

"You've shown strength, control, and flame-discipline. Now we see if you can temper soul into steel."

He raised his hammer and slammed it into the ground. A magic circle ignited around the forge pit.

"Grand Ember Test begins."

THE TEST

A steel altar rose from the floor, glowing with unshaped Forgesteel, already heated to readiness. A flame-spirit hovered above, bound to the ritual.

The task was simple:

Forge one item.

No assistance.

No pre-designs.

The item must resonate with your soul.

The flame-spirit would judge.

Leon stepped forward. His mind was calm, clear.

He chose no blade, no spear.

Instead, he took the steel and began to fold it, over and over—not for war, but for resonance. Every hammer strike echoed like a memory. His time on Floor 300. His friends. His journey.

Roman, at his station, worked with clean precision. He forged a device—part armor, part construct housing. It wasn't a weapon. It was a support unit, engineered to stabilize chaotic mana and assist weaker teammates in battle.

Two different philosophies.

Two truths forged in fire.

HOURS PASSED.

The forge cooled.

Leon stepped back, revealing a forged gauntlet—layered, coiled with spiraled mana channels. It pulsed with subtle Shell Reverb energy, capable of amplifying his martial control without disrupting his focus. A perfect union of strength and stability.

Roman presented his Mana Stabilizer Core Gauntlet, embedded with adjustable channel flow, built not for himself—but for others.

The flame-spirit flared. Then calmed.

It floated between the two artifacts. And bowed.

The forge had accepted their soulwork.

HIGH FORGEBINDER:

"Kneel."

They did.

The dwarf stepped forward and marked each of their shoulders with a molten rune brand, cooled instantly by a swipe of his gloved palm.

"From this moment, you are Forgebinders. Not by blood. Not by heritage. But by flame, will, and steel."

The room filled with quiet approval from the Elders.

LATER – OUTSIDE IN THE SMITHERY HALL

Leon and Roman walked out together, their brand glowing faintly through their gear. Their teammates were waiting.

Milim waved. "Took you long enough!"

Roselia smirked. "Let me guess. You didn't just pass. You rewrote part of the ritual, didn't you?"

Leon said nothing. Just lifted the gauntlet.

Naval let out a low whistle. "You actually forged Shell Reverb into a physical form..."

Liliana placed a hand on Leon's shoulder, smiling. "You're not just the tower's top Ascender now. You're a smith."

Roman, ever silent, allowed himself a small, rare laugh.

IRONRIFT CITY – PRIVATE FORGE CHAMBER, TWO DAYS LATER

The celebration had ended. The forges still burned, but now with reverence. Leon stood alone inside a private smithing chamber granted only to recognized Forgebinders. Roman was in the next chamber, preparing his Stabilizer Gauntlet for modular enhancements.

But Leon… had other plans.

He set the gauntlet core—his soulwork—onto the central pedestal. The forge room dimmed. Only the glow of active enchantment circuits and the slow, pulsing thrum of his Shell Reverb mastery filled the silence.

He exhaled.

"Begin synthesis," he whispered.

A mechanical rune circle beneath the pedestal activated. Dozens of forging tools hovered and shifted around the slab. Molten fragments of rare alloy ingots—Dwarven Spiremetal, Abyssal Gold, and Echo Glass—rose from adjacent trays.

Leon wasn't just reforging the gauntlet. He was using it as the anchor to create something greater:

An Adaptive Shell-Reverberation Weapon:

— Capable of shifting form between gauntlet, blade, and recoil staff.

— Infused with combat tempo memory.

— Capable of syncing with Absolute Return and Tripart Echo.

— A blade that doesn't just cut—but echoes through time.

He named it: Echofang.

FORGING MONTAGE

Day 1: Leon reforges the gauntlet structure into a foldable gauntlet-blade core. Each strike pulls Shell Reverb harmonics into the alloy, creating a resonance lock.

Day 2: He integrates Echo Glass, which vibrates with the user's heartbeat. It aligns with his Reverb pulses.

Day 3: Using Abyssal Gold melted under compressed mana, he carves pulse channels along the blade edge—this lets Shell Reverb "sing" through it in battle.

Day 4: He trains with the incomplete weapon, testing flow, flex, and recoil timing. Several times, the prototype nearly shatters. Each time, he adapts.

At night, he dreams of his time in the Obsidian Ant arena. Of his echoes. His pain. His growth.

He channels it all.

DAY SIX – FINAL STRIKE

He lifts Echofang—now fully formed. A gauntlet that flows into a razor-edged armblade, or splits open into a two-part recoil staff.

He swings once—and the air trembles. The walls echo with a delay pulse, and when the echo bounces back, Leon is already moving again, perfectly synchronized.

The forge flame flares—not in danger, but in approval.

He had done it.

He had created a living weapon, bound to his rhythm.

OUTSIDE – IRONRIFT CITY – TOWER ASCENT GATE

The team gathered once more, packs ready. Their next destination awaited—Floor 302, a realm not of fire or shadow, but of gravity distortion and floating citadels. Known to few as the Sky Vault Reaches.

Liliana looked at Echofang on Leon's arm. "Is that…?"

Leon nodded. "Echofang. It'll grow with me."

Naval smirked. "I'd hate to be on the other end of that thing."

Milim flexed. "You guys done smithing now? I've been itching for a real fight."

Roman, more confident now, tapped his new mana support gauntlet. "Then let's climb."

Roselia looked ahead. "The Sky Vault Reaches aren't going to welcome us. That place tears apart teams with storm gravity alone."

Leon just stepped forward, calm.

"Let it try."

The Tower trembled as the Flamebound Ascender stepped into the light of the next trial.

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