Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System

The siblings appeared back in a completely different place. There, the space was filled with thorns of every size, color, and shape, releasing a mist-like substance that drowned the place in a thick hazy fog.

They looked around, their gaze easily piercing through this suffocating barrier.

"Now where is the will of this realm?" Noah questioned himself as his eyes scanned everything with calm precision.

Aurelia was lost in her own mind, barely registering what was happening as she mumbled under her breath some words about dark this dark that.

Asaemon, too, barely cared, raising his hand to touch the fog and letting it slip lazily through his fingers as if playing with it.

Noah shook his head at their comportment before his gaze paused on one particular direction. There, he noticed a thorn ordinary in every aspect.

It was colored in lifeless grey amidst a sea of dazzling colors, exuding barely any power, only the faint whisper of an ashen light.

Noah smirked, took a step, and in an instant found himself before the thorn, his eyes gleaming faintly with amusement.

"Don't you know?" he said, reaching for the thorn with his hand, "that being ordinary in a room full of extraordinary things is the most obvious way to attract attention?"

He gripped it tightly, and for half a second nothing happened then the thorn twisted, and a voice echoed, nervous and pained.

"D-Don't hurt me!" it cried, before its form shifted into a petite figure, a man with a humanoid body carved from thorns, trembling under Noah's gaze.

"I will do anything you say!" he added, his heart beating rapidly like a snowball tumbling down a high mountain.

He knew who these people were. He had seen them battle inside his realm, had felt their monstrous powers tearing into him in ways he never imagined possible.

And worse, he had watched his former master kill her own husband under the influence of these monsters.

These abominations.

Knowing all that, he would have been the greatest fool not to cooperate.

Noah and the siblings smiled like wolves spotting a lone sheep, and the man of thorns shivered.

"That's perfect," Noah said. He paused, then continued, "so you know what's waiting for you, right?"

The man of thorns struggled, his expression twisting as realization bloomed across his wooden face.

Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded.

"Hard way or easy way?" Noah asked again, his tone soft as a morning breeze.

"Easy," the will responded.

Instantly, a grotesque and painful process began as the will started to tear its own core from itself, offering it to Noah.

The space around them fluctuated, glitching and unraveling like a curtain being pulled aside to reveal the void expanse of the universe.

Outside, the mundane people simply stood, watching their world collapse.

The ground creaked, then disappeared as if swallowed whole by a void beast.

They didn't scream.

They didn't pray, beg, or curse the heavens for their fate.

In a single day, they had endured apocalyptic horrors that shattered their hearts and hollowed their spirits, leaving them staring at the end with blank, empty eyes.

It was unfair.

And because it was unfair, a bright white-silver light erupted around the realm, enveloping them in a warm embrace before whisking them away, leaving the world barren of any living soul.

Noah had transported them to Laeh. Then he seized the will's core and observed as the being of thorns crumbled into dust before him.

He stared at the core in his palm, thorn-shaped and glowing with a searing light.

An indescribable feeling pierced his chest, forcing silence upon him before a wry smile tugged at his lips.

'I am here shouting vengeance in all corners of the universe… but I am doing the very same thing they did to me to a world that did nothing against me.' he realized, and a heavy weight bloomed in his chest.

He had destroyed and remade the lives of billions, just because he wanted to kill one being and elevate his own world.

Wasn't that exactly what Orien and Klaus had done to him?

Planning to destroy his world, enslave his people for their gain?

Wasn't this the same? Even if, in his case, he had the heart to send the survivors into Laeh for a new life… the truth remained.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

It was bitter. Ironic.

'I am such a hypocrite.' Noah thought.

And he was.

He screamed at the universe when it wronged him, yet he did the same to others without hesitation if it meant gaining what he wanted or protecting those he loved.

His behavior was so… human.

His chuckle grew into a dry laugh, understanding dawning upon him.

'Perfection, huh…?' he whispered, remembering his lofty goal.

A goal that now demanded a question.

'What is perfection…?'

Behind him, Aurelia and Asaemon watched in silence as the world crumbled, leaving only the void expanse of the universe.

They still kept their eyes on the youngest.

They knew what he was going through, and they understood perfectly. They had lived through the same torment in their own eras.

This was the nature of the universe.

The strong devoured the weak. There was no language of equality, of justice, of reason, or of peace.

Those were concepts only the strong could speak of.

When the weak dared to speak them, it was nothing but a pitiful worm trying to mimic the language of a serpent.

Its throat was not built to pronounce such words. Every syllable was gibberish to higher beings, who would crush it for the smallest offense.

It is… what it is.

And the sooner Noah accepted this truth and freed himself from discomfort at destroying worlds, the less he would suffer.

But Noah's worry wasn't about this.

His worry was his dream. For he had just realized something flawed in it.

He wanted perfection… but what was perfection for him?

Was it to be fair? To live without a trace of hypocrisy in his soul? To embody justice, equality, fairness for all beings in existence?

If that was it…

"…I am doomed."

Because Noah knew.

He knew he was a man full of faults. He was flawed at its core.

And only then did he feel the true weight of his dream.

Because it was not just a matter of hoarding power, nor of the women he hounded into his embrace.

It was a matter of character.

A matter of heart.

A matter of his deepest nature.

And as you all know, there was nothing more difficult than changing your own nature.

After all, as our French brothers once said…

"Chassez le naturel, il revient au galop."

—End of Chapter 333—