Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System

It was inevitable.

The voice of an Original, especially one so furious, was not something a simple Mythic rank could ever hope to defend against.

So the moment that voice touched them, Red and Anya began to corrode immediately. The space around them turned black, its surface peeling like rotting skin. It was an eerie sight. Space itself flaking, as if it too had flesh that could decay.

Their bodies mirrored the scene. Layers of flesh peeled off in strips, black and foul blood spilling from every inch of their skin. The pain? Astronomical.

But neither of them screamed. Neither flinched nor grimaced.

Instead, they observed the transformation, eyes sharp, focused and curious even. It was like they were trying to peel back the secret behind the pain, trying to understand the corrosion as it happened to them.

And indeed, they were.

Red and Anya weren't idiots. They might revel in destruction and war, but they knew their limits.

They knew that facing an Original at Law Creator rank meant defeat was more than probable, it was carved in stone.

But that didn't mean they couldn't learn.

And as the saying went, you grow the most when you're cornered. So they decided to try. To learn. To experiment.

After a few seconds of excruciating observation,

"Destruction," Anya muttered, tracing the source of the corrosion within her body, bending that force back onto itself. The rot collapsed. Her flesh began to reform and becoming normal again.

"War," Red said next. And the conflicting sources of corrosion inside her were suddenly at war, clashing, ripping each other apart. By the time they were done, her body too was reverting, slowly, back to normal.

Coincidentally, just as they stabilized, Mortis appeared.

His expression was carved with anger, but beneath it… deeper irritation.

And that irritation spiked when, unbelievably, he saw one supreme rank and mythic rank in front of him.

He could kill them all in a heartbeat and return to what mattered, but even that small detour, that little bit of time wasted traveling here, killing, then heading back, was time he should've spent working toward his actual goals.

Instead…

"You… You're bold to come at me as mere Mythic ranks," Mortis said coldly.

His body became enveloped in a corrosive black aura so dense and ancient that time, space, even destiny itself around him began to rot, liquefy, dissolve.

Then he moved.

One moment he stood before them. The next, he was between them, without warning.

He raised both arms wide, palms facing Red and Anya.

And in a voice calm and quiet, almost casual—

"Corrosive Pulse."

A violent black wave exploded from his hands and slammed directly into their faces before they could react.

Then came the brutality.

With a backflip, he kicked Anya in the face so hard a deep, sickening crack echoed across the field like death knocking on a door.

And in the momentum of that same flip, he spun the opposite way and drove his foot straight into Red's stomach. The impact was so powerful her internal organs twisted, some ruptured, others switched places from the sheer violence.

BOOM.

They slammed into the ground, side by side, the crash splitting the earth beneath them.

They tried to speak, to lift their heads, but Anya's face was mangled—horrifically so. Her jaw hung limp, her skull dented, her face disfigured beyond recognition as blood shimmered and spilled down in waves.

Red wasn't in better shape. She clutched her stomach like she wanted to dig her fingers inside and tear out the pain itself. Blood gushed from her mouth and nose, coughs wracking her broken ribs, breath shallow and erratic.

'We'll die at this rate…' Anya's voice echoed into Red's mind, raw and rattling.

Red twitched slightly, then replied with that same wild grin in her mind.

'I think you'll die first, for sure.'

The answer made Anya exhale…not relief, not joy, but something. A sliver of calm.

She was talented. Dangerous. But she was still young, still learning. And in her corner stood a woman more than a century old.

It helped.

And so, Anya decided.

'Let's use our domains. We don't stand a chance otherwise.'

Her body began to regenerate—slowly, painfully. She rose, blood still dripping, skin still torn.

Red stood too, her expression sharpened, her gaze locked on Mortis who now floated above them, looking down like a god peering at foolish mortals trying to touch the stars.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Mortis said, his voice steady, eyes studying them.

He could have attacked again while they spoke, thinking he didn't notice. But he did notice. He just didn't care.

Because now, he was thinking of something else.

Recruitment.

If Mortis had a hobby, it wasn't murder. It was gathering talent—commanders, killers, warriors worthy enough to lead in his name.

Not out of some noble dream.

But because he was lazy.

He wanted others who could handle everything without bothering him. He wanted monsters to solve his problems for him.

So he offered it.

"Become my commanders. I'll spare you. I'll even reward you. Territories, resources, anything you gain will be yours. I don't care about any of that." Mortis proposed calmly, his voice was sincere.

And it was.

Mortis never lied. Especially not to weaker beings. He simply had no reason to.

Red and Anya blinked once.

And then, they smiled.

Not a small smile. A wide, deep, vicious smile.

Then in perfect sync—

"Sorry, we can't serve any man but our husband. So we'll have to politely decline your tempting offer."

They meant every word.

And without another moment wasted, they activated their domains.

"Domain: Sanctuary of Annihilation." Anya declared.

The battlefield vanished, swallowed by a realm of destruction energy so unstable that the air itself began to burst and scream. In the center stood a castle—its roof open, its throne exposed—black, ancient, and seething with the very force of annihilation.

Then came Red's turn.

"Domain: Realm of Bloody War."

Instantly, the two domains fused.

Destruction.

War.

Blood.

And something new was born.

Not a combination.

Not a merger.

But a collision.

A chaotic blend that shouldn't exist….a realm where war, blood, and annihilation intertwined, devoured, and reformed. A reality that wanted to rip itself apart and unleash something far more primal.

Only one thing could be born from this fusion,

Madness.

Unfiltered, roaring, howling madness.

A madness so deep it wanted to tear through the seams of reality and bring forth one single truth…

The end of all things.

—End of Chapter 251—