Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: The Women’s meeting [1]

Chapter 137 – The Women’s meeting [1]

{Title: Blessed by Lightning}

{Description: For your unwavering dedication to your craft, you have been blessed by the very concept of Lightning. Your lightning affinity has evolved to SSS rank.}

Sophie smiled softly at the glowing text.

"Perfect," she murmured. "From S-rank to SSS. I did it."

A deep, unshakable pride filled her chest.

And how could she not feel proud? She had accomplished what only a handful of beings in the world ever had—elevating her affinity into the realm of legend.

She lifted her palm.

A miniature spear of red lightning sparked to life above it—crackling, humming with otherworldly energy.

But this was no longer just her signature lightning.

Once, it exuded the presence of an empress—confident, dominant, elegant.

Now?

It radiated something more.

The aura of a true ruler. Sovereign. Imposing. Layered.

It was heavy, yet graceful.

Destructive, yet healing.

Elusive, yet unyielding.

Sophie had surpassed her former self. She had harmonized different types of lightning into a single, complete whole. This wasn’t just power—it was work forged by effort and pain.

And now?

It was time to test it.

She casually hurled the lightning spear toward a wooden training puppet nearby.

It wasn’t even fast.

But before it even made contact—

BOOOM—!

The puppet exploded, disintegrating into ash.

Not from impact—but from the sheer weight of the energy approaching it.

And that?

That was just one aspect of her evolved lightning.

"Incredible..." she whispered. Her smile was radiant.

All the pain. The days without food. The solitude.

It had all been worth it.

She turned and began to walk away, her steps light with satisfaction.

"Time to see my dear husband," she said with a smirk.

"...But first..."

She sniffed her clothes and wrinkled her nose.

"I need a bath. I smell awful."

...

Meanwhile...

In another part of the realm, someone else was fighting their own battle.

Yuki.

She sat in the middle of a tranquil lake, eyes closed, focused.

Water rippled around her, undisturbed.

Watching her from the shore was Damon, her teacher—and her reluctant cheerleader.

’She’s crazy,’ Damon thought.

And he meant it.

After all, Yuki had declared that she wanted to forge something that, by all accounts, shouldn’t even exist:

"A formless sword. A weapon that adapts to anything."

How was that even possible?

He didn’t know. And he was the sword expert.

Yuki had been training for days—trying to shape water into a sword. Trying to blend elemental manipulation with her sword affinity.

But so far?

Failure.

Damon had done all he could. He had shared his insights, told her his journey, offered his knowledge...

But this?

This path?

This was hers alone.

"You’re on your own, Yuki," he muttered under his breath.

Still... he wanted to see it.

To witness a formless sword. To see the impossible become real.

"Give it your all, Yuki. You can do it... probably."

He wasn’t the most convincing supporter—but his hope was real.

Yuki, meanwhile, heard none of that.

She was deep in thought, her mind racing.

’Logically, this shouldn’t be hard.’