Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Blood&Thunder

Chapter 29 – Blood & Thunder

Everyone stared at Noah as if they'd seen a ghost.

"Since when has he been here?" the question rippled silently across the crowd, shock etched onto every face.

The central clearing was already brimming with tension. Hundreds of participants stood scattered around, none daring to turn their backs, all eyes wary—watching, waiting. A single breath felt like it could ignite the powder keg of silence.

The atmosphere was taut. The air crackled with anticipation. Everyone was waiting—for the second test, for chaos to begin.

Sophie strolled up to Noah, casting a glance at the green-haired girl standing beside him. Her voice was teasing, laced with mock jealousy.

"You've barely started, and you're already picking up girls behind my back, dear husband?"

Noah turned, lips curling into a smirk. "How dare I? My heart only beats for you. This little one just happened to tag along."

Anya frowned. "This little one has a name. It's Anya."

They both ignored her.

Sophie's eyes narrowed slightly, shifting back to the situation. "Any idea what the second part of the test is?"

Noah's smile deepened. "Isn't it obvious? Two hundred is too many. They need to cut us down."

He looked around, almost amused by the silence.

"And what better way than a good old-fashioned battle royale?"

As if cued by his words, Damon's voice boomed across the forest, rumbling through the trees like thunder.

"Two hundred of you made it. The rest... are already out."

"You were warned. The academy does not nurture the weak. We want monsters—the best of the best."

"So now, we reduce the number."

"You are exactly two hundred. I want at least half of you gone. Dead or crippled, it doesn't matter. I just need one hundred standing. Or less. Those will move on."

"The test begins—now."

Silence.

It fell like a hammer—heavy, crushing. No one moved. No one dared. The first to strike would be the first to die. Everyone knew it.

And yet, there are always those who don't care. Who don't need to care.

Enter: Rouge Bloodheart.

She threw her head back and laughed—wild, maniacal.

"HAHAHAHA! This is exactly what I wanted!"

BOOM!

A massive blood-forged hammer materialized in her hand. Without hesitation, she brought it down on a nearby participant. Flesh cracked. Bone shattered.

The body hit the ground, lifeless.

And with that—

Chaos erupted.

Skills lit up the clearing like fireworks—flashes of power, bursts of sound, screams. Combat ignited everywhere. Not even a minute passed before bodies began falling. Blood spilled. Cries rang out.

And at the center of it, the one who lit the spark had already found her next flame.

"NOAAHHHH!!!" Rouge's voice tore through the carnage. Her red eyes locked on him, wild with excitement. No one dared get in her path.

Noah's lips twitched. "Damn that girl."

He turned to Sophie. "My dear wife. That red lightning of yours? Quite the surprise earlier. Impressive."

His grin widened. "How about using it again? On the battle maniac sprinting toward me?"

He didn't wait for a reply. "Just keep her busy for a minute, okay? I've got things to do."

He dashed off, leaving only a parting sentence for the green-haired girl. "Anya, you're on your own now."

Anya blinked. Once. Twice.

Then the battlefield erupted.

Screams. Blood. Explosions of light, flame, wind, and worse.

She staggered back instinctively, hands shaking. The scent of iron hit her like a brick wall. She turned just in time to see a head hit the ground—and roll.

Her breath caught in her throat.

This isn't training. This is war.

And Sophie ?

Sophie's eyes twitched. Rouge, about to pursue Noah, was intercepted in a blur.

Crackle.

Lightning danced through the air as Sophie appeared in front of her. "Sorry, heir of the Bloodhearts. You're not going anywhere."

Rouge tilted her head, grin widening. "So you do want to fight, princess."

She clenched her fists. Around them, blood on the battlefield twisted and coalesced—spikes forming from the fallen. A grotesque tribute.