Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System

Chapter 197: Hell no.



The realm had to be reorganized.

And that's exactly what Noah and his women did.

The realm now contained the Vaelgrim Domain, an elven continent, a piece of the demon continent, and a fractured corner of the dwarven lands. And to say it was messy… was an understatement.

There were no real borders. No order. No structure. And not even a few days had passed inside the realm before the people started fighting each other like savages.

It was maddening.

Even after witnessing the destruction of an entire world—even after that—they still had the energy, the will, the audacity to fight each other instead of standing together.

It was something Noah genuinely couldn't wrap his head around.

How could they still find the mindset to do that? How could they want to?

He didn't know the answer.

But the truth was… the answer was simple.

Very simple.

They were lost.

You'd think they were acting like this because they were unaware—but no. That's exactly the problem.

They were now aware.

They were aware of higher powers. Aware of worlds beyond their little playground. Aware that beings who could erase their entire existence with a flick of the wrist walked among them, around the universe.

And what do you expect from them now? To rise? To stand tall against such enemies? To unite, to channel their grief into revenge and ambition?

Yes.

That's what should happen.

And some of them—very few—did respond that way.

But most?

Most turned on each other.

Some started brawling over nothing. Some drowned themselves in liquor and lust. Some killed themselves. Some even went so far as to kill their entire families before taking their own lives.

Just to forget. Just to be numb. Just to not feel like powerless ants in a universe that had already trampled them once.

Because they were mortals.

And mortals are flawed. Fragile. Cowardly.

Hell, even divine beings like Justicia were flawed to the core—so what did you expect from these little things with short lifespans and even shorter resolve?

You can't expect much.

But of course, like in all things under heaven and between the stars, there are always exceptions.

And among the broken, there were those who stood up.

Those who refused to drown.

Those who welcomed the pain.

Rouge. Eric. Malrik.

The three of them stood inside the academy—eyes firm, expressions serious, but there was no despair behind those eyes.

Their home world had been destroyed.

So what?

"We'll destroy theirs too," Rouge said with a crooked grin, her voice dipped in bloodlust. But beneath that grin—buried deep—was a pain she thought she had hidden.

But Eric and Malrik saw through her.

Of course they did.

They felt it too after all.

"We will," Malrik said, voice low and cold, cold enough to wither the air around him. The very mana in the room started to decay.

Malrik was angry. Deeply, violently angry.

Not just because their home was gone. There was that too but not only.

But because someone—some higher, untouchable being—had dared to make his Rouge feel sadness.

And that? That was a sin not even death could atone for.

'Just wait for me.' Malrik thought, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he imagined turning those same powerful beings into his undead—gift-wrapping them to Rouge so she could kill them again and again.

He'd revive them.

And she would kill.

And he'd revive.

And she would kill again.

Until she smiled.

That was his love.

Malrik moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. In that moment, Rouge wasn't the bloodthirsty warrior who laughed through slaughter.

In that moment, she was just a girl.

A furious, heartbroken girl who lost her home world.

And who wanted the ones who did all this to her to bleed for it.

To drown their whole world in blood.

And oh… what a beautiful thing it would be, wouldn't it? To see a whole world drowned in her fury? In her vengeance?

Truly, a beautiful sight to imagine.

And maybe—just maybe—one we'll get to witness.

While those two lovers simmered in their private storm, Eric stood silently nearby.

He didn't speak. Not because he didn't care—but because talking wasn't his thing.

He didn't need words.

He needed action.

And act, he would.

Eric closed his eyes, steadying his thoughts.

He could feel it.

His time was coming.

Back to the reorganization—this was Noah's realm, and so he took control of it.

He changed the geography. Altered the land. Created real borders between each domain.

It wasn't easy. The realm wasn't as vast as Laeh's old world, but it was manageable.

And while Noah oversaw the structure, it was his women who solved the people problem.

Specifically, Elizabeth.

She saw the chaos, the fear, the doubt—and used it.

She pushed the Church of the Absolute Deity harder than ever, giving the people something to cling to. A god to believe in.

And that god… was Noah.

They didn't even hesitate. Because that's how mortals are.

That's how life is.

It's always easier to submit than to fight for control.

It's easier to be weak than to be strong.

Easier to let someone else take the reins than to carry the burden of power.

Easier to be lazy, to be docile, to run away, to give in.

And by choosing ease—they accepted to be led.

To be used.

To be another nameless, forgettable soul in the crowd.

But that's fine.

Because not everyone is meant to be great.

Not everyone can succeed.

We need the unworthy too.

We need sheep so we can have shepherds.

And Elizabeth used those sheep perfectly.

Under her, the faith in Noah exploded—spread like fire through dry grass. Humans, demons, elves, dwarves… they all ran toward the safety his name promised.

That's when the Church truly bloomed.

That's when Noah's divinity began to take root.

Something that should've taken years—centuries, even—was accelerated by one thing:

Laeh's destruction.

The tragedy paved the road. The loss opened the gate. And faith poured through.

Isn't that interesting?

They say there's good in everything.

You just have to look hard enough.

You have to not be blinded by the bad that clings to your skin.

Is this starting to sound philosophical?

Hell no.

—End of Chapter 197—


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