Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System Chapter 459 Wrathful Aurelia

"Sweetheart, they are hunting all of you. All over the universe."

Courtisan Lust spoke while gazing at Asaemon. "We need to be more careful now."

Her voice was gentle, carrying a faint trace of pity as she observed the former Elysiari of Monsters.

The brilliant silver hair Asaemon once possessed had vanished. In its stead, a crown of hair that resembled rusty white more than any other shade sat upon his head.

One look at him revealed that he had been stripped of something vital to his very being.

Nonetheless, his crimson eyes had never blazed with such intensity or ferocity as they did in that moment.

They were sheltered within a concealed, clandestine sanctuary deep inside Hell, hiding to strategize their upcoming moves. The chamber was cramped, no larger than a standard room belonging to a family in poverty.

It had been constructed from the flesh and skeletal remains of abyss monsters, then bound together by the searing flames of Hell to fuse the materials.

Apart from the two of them, the room was entirely vacant.

Glancing around with her pink-hued eyes, Courtisan Lust took note of Sloth, Envy, and Gluttony.

These were the only three other Demon Lords who had chosen to brave the danger and follow Asaemon on his path.

Each was driven by their own veiled cravings.

"I am aware we are being hunted," Asaemon replied, his gaze shifting between Lust and the other three. "However, I must trust in their capacity to survive. Leaving Hell right now would cause me to forfeit the slim chance I currently hold."

He stopped briefly, forcing down the sense of powerlessness that threatened to claw at his stomach.

This was no time for such weakness. Later. He could grieve for the fallen members of his faction at a later time.

For this moment, he required Hell.

"The Progenitor has not yet arrived." Courtisan Lust started gliding toward Asaemon with a poised, steady gait. "Meanwhile, Wrath, Pride, and Greed are working tirelessly to force Hell to speak and betray our location."

"What is the likelihood they can make the beast talk?"

"Slim, sweetheart. Extremely slim. Yet, it remains entirely possible. If Hell perceives us as a threat to its master, the Progenitor of Demons, it will stop at nothing to eliminate us."

"This is all... such a bother," Sloth suddenly groaned, drawing the attention of everyone present. Her speech was sluggish and heavy.

"Bothersome. We... don't have a million choices. So just... pick one and let's finish this."

"Quite true," Envy chimed in, idly twirling a lock of her black hair around a finger. "Not to mention the difficulty of slaying Wrath, Pride, and Greed. Killing them wouldn't grant you mastery over Hell anyway. Besides, such a conflict would surely draw the Progenitor's attention."

"Hell is merely the Progenitor's pet," Gluttony added. His mouth glistened with grease, and his torso was so massive that his face was obscured from a frontal view.

Every word he uttered sounded like a man gasping for his final breath. "We must seize control of Hell away from the Progenitor," he concluded, pausing to catch his breath.

"Well, my darlings, that is precisely the problem," Courtisan Lust remarked, now standing directly to Asaemon's left. "How are we to accomplish that? As Demon Lords, we understand the profound depth of the bond between those two."

"Furthermore, the Progenitor's return is imminent. We lack the time to properly organize our strategy."

She turned her head slowly, studying the stern expression on Asaemon's face. A thin smile touched her lips. "So, sweetheart, what is our move?"

The weight of the situation was crushing.

Asaemon understood that conquering Hell was a monumental task on its own, but the true scale of the challenge was only now becoming clear.

Even so,

"I dislike being the one to suggest this," he said, eyeing the four Demon Lords with a questioning look, "but every being and every thing has a price they would accept in exchange for their loyalty."

"For the same reasons you abandoned your own kin for personal gain, Hell might do the same if offered something it truly craves. Something its master has denied it."

"And... what would that be?" Sloth inquired slowly, her interest piqued.

The confidence in Asaemon's voice suggested he already held the answer.

In truth, he did have a lead.

The Progenitor of Demons, Asmodeus, had been his comrade. On numerous occasions, the two had spent time together, arguing, conversing, and venting about various matters.

During many of those times, Asaemon had observed the bond between Asmodeus and Hell.

Those observations had provided him with insight into a specific desire Hell harbored.

Asaemon squeezed his fist shut. A wave of loathing washed over him at the thought of using secrets shared in friendship to commit an act of betrayal.

He had never imagined a day would come where he would stoop to this.

Subtlety was never Asaemon's style. In fact, he detested it.

He preferred to be genuine and transparent, forming connections with others—and even beasts—without the stain of lies or backstabbing.

And now... and now...

"You must do it, sweetheart," Courtisan Lust whispered softly. She reached out with both hands, firmly cupping Asaemon's face between her palms.

She gently tilted his head so their gazes met. Their eyes locked.

She smiled, possessing a beauty capable of bringing entire worlds to their knees. "There is no time to grieve for your past bonds, sweetheart. You must make a choice and follow through without hesitation," Lust declared. "If you linger in doubt for too long, you will lose the respect of both the Progenitor and your own sibling."

She went quiet for a moment, noticing Asaemon's resolve beginning to solidify.

She pressed on, taking advantage of his wavering state. "So tell me," Courtisan murmured, "what are you prepared to sacrifice?"

"A single friendship, or the legacy of your brother?"

At that point, further deliberation was unnecessary.

With a hardened heart, Asaemon, the Second Abomination, opened his mouth.

"The Crusader of Gold Eagle," he stated with a heavy sigh.

"Hell desires the Crusader of Gold Eagle, the Guardian of the Hidden Temple within the Celestial Faction."

Those words resonated through the small room like a sinister omen.

The eyes of the Demon Lords stretched wide in pure amazement.

Sloth sat bolt upright from her relaxed position, trembling.

Envy recoiled a step, her jaw dropping in shock.

Courtisan Lust's mouth went dry instantly, her hands falling away from Asaemon's face.

And then,

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Gluttony bellowed.

Another scream followed. "ARGHHHHH! WHAT—!"

"Die in silence." Aurelia's tone was as frigid as the grave. Her golden daggers tore through the throat of the screaming elven woman before decapitating her with a single, swift motion.

The head spun through the air, painting the sky with blood, eyes wide with terror as the light of life faded from her soul.

Aurelia marched forward, her expression a mask of stone. Each stride crushed the blossoms beneath her feet, her entire form soaked in the blood of the elves.

Behind her, hundreds—no, thousands of elves lay scattered across the earth.

The scene was horrific.

Hearts had been torn out, some still twitching as if clinging to life. Within the crimson pools, one could see severed limbs, crushed organs, and even severed eyes floating like fish. The air was thick with the stench of gore, death, and raw panic.

Aurelia stood in the center of a sprawling, once-beautiful garden filled with enchanted flowers and towering trees reaching for the heavens.

It was a magnificent place. Or, it had been.

Now, it was a landscape for the damned.

Scanning the horizon, Aurelia saw millions of elves awaiting her, huddled together like a swarm of ants in a tight formation. Leading them were beings with golden hair—now looking as withered as dead ashes—and piercing green eyes.

The Worldborn. Aurelia had invaded Treehouse, the primary realm of the Worldborn.

And its inhabitants had gathered to meet her.

"First Abomination, you—!" "Be quiet," Aurelia interrupted sharply, and the very air went still. Above her, a massive golden tome the size of a manor appeared, causing the surrounding space to buckle and tear like parchment. A colossal weight slammed down upon the elves, as if the sky itself was collapsing on their heads.

At the sight of the book, the elves—whose power had been severely drained by Luelle's passing—watched in horror, with some already attempting to flee.

Everyone recognized that volume.

It was the tome where the plundered Records were kept. If they had been nervous about facing the First Abomination before, the moment Aurelia's voice rang out across the gardens, that anxiety transformed into a terror that gripped their hearts like a bloody vice.

"Forbidden Record number Three,"

Aurelia's voice sounded like the heavens splitting apart.

"Lord of the Seven Kingdoms."

Aurelia's form began to change. Treehouse shattered into seven distinct fragments.

The elves shrieked and wailed in shock as they felt the Will of the World scream in agonizing pain.

All the while, Eric, Malrik, and Rouge—standing amidst the elven ranks—observed the carnage with cold, unwavering eyes.