Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System Chapter 439 - Growing up again

Gaia lay flat on her back, her forehead glistening with beads of perspiration. A curse escaped her lips, which were pressed into a tight, narrow line.

With her legs spread wide, a mixture of water and multicolored blood surged from her private place, staining the earth beneath her in gruesome shades.

The labor had begun.

Her head jerked back as her eyes overflowed with such intense fury and agony that the entire realm trembled in sympathy with her pain.

Throughout the ordeal, Gaia struggled to contain the seismic tremors within her own domain. She knew that if others discovered her in this vulnerable state, she would not survive the next breath.

Once more, she spat out a curse.

Suddenly, a piercing scream tore from her throat. Her spine arched and creaked before let out a sharp crack as the baby’s head began to emerge from her private place.

"BRANDON! I WILL—!"

"ARGHH!"

Her vengeful shrieks and foul oaths were cut short by the universal agony of childbirth.

It was a sacred process, one deserving of reverence. Truly, nothing was more unique than the act of giving life.

There was no calling more noble than choosing to carry a life within oneself and ushering it into the world,

before guiding and teaching that child to lead a life of purpose.

It was supposed to be a source of profound joy and pride.

Gaia, however, felt none of those things. Only a frigid tide of wrath surged through her immortal body, threatening to erupt.

This wasn't because she was inherently a bad mother, but it is difficult to cherish something that has been forced upon you.

She ground her teeth so hard they felt like they might crumble into white dust, her mind racing with the myriad tortures she intended to inflict upon Noah.

At that moment, Noah's small body had almost entirely emerged, with only his legs remaining inside.

Pain flared within Gaia like a wildfire devouring a forest. With one final, desperate cry, she pushed with all her remaining strength.

POP!

Noah was born.

The sound of fluid hitting the ground echoed throughout the area,

followed by the ragged, uneven gasps of Gaia’s breathing.

Gaia remained on her back, her chest heaving violently. Her face was drenched, and her eyelids fluttered, half-closed from sheer exhaustion.

Biting down on her black-stained lips, she forced herself upward, her trembling hands digging into the soil for leverage.

Barely managing to sit up with her legs still apart, the Will Eternal stared at the scene before her, her expression a knotted mess of shock and rage.

There, the infant—Noah—was already beginning to crawl, his chubby legs wobbling beneath him. Yet, he moved.

A cord still connected the baby’s stomach to Gaia.

With a swift motion of his small, fleshy hand, Noah severed it.

Gaia stifled a groan of discomfort.

The infant turned his gaze toward her.

Noah’s features had changed slightly. While his skin remained a pale white, the fine hair on his head now matched Gaia’s—a blend of crimson and green.

His eyes also reflected those of the Mother of Mothers, though in his case, both irises were a striking shade of purple.

It was a remarkable sight.

"Y-You..." Gaia tried to speak, but the words died in her throat.

She felt disoriented. She could sense her own blood flowing within the child; she could feel her own mark upon him.

Gaia knew instinctively that Noah was her offspring.

However, she did not feel like a mother to him. More accurately, she refused to accept the role.

For a moment, she drifted in a daze, her previous fury and growing malice softening under a sensation she thought she understood perfectly.

She was the Mother of Mothers. She was the one who gave life and welcomed her children back into her embrace when their time ended.

Yet, in this moment, a sense of true motherhood blossomed so powerfully within her that it made her head spin.

She wondered, in her confusion, if this was because it was the first time she had birthed a child through her own physical flesh, rather than through her divine power and the fabric of reality.

Perhaps that was what made it different.

She didn't have the answer.

And so, time began to slip away.

Gaia sat in silence, watching Noah, unsure of how to respond to his existence.

Noah, meanwhile, was occupied with exploring his new form.

As the hours passed, Gaia recovered from the labor, her body returning to its original state and her power restoring itself.

Throughout this period, she kept her eyes on Noah.

The child grew at a steady pace.

He passed through toddlerhood and continued to age until he possessed the likeness of a young boy.

The growth continued until he appeared to be a youth of fifteen years.

During this time, Gaia—lost in her existential crisis and questioning Noah’s place in her life—silently permitted him to do as he pleased.

The boy bathed in currents of pure energy, wandered through lush meadows, and conversed with the local wildlife. He spoke to the playing deer, the rabbits that brought him food, the birds singing above, and the flowers that bloomed at his touch.

He ascended into the heavens to meet the seven holy suns and the three demonic moons.

He addressed them as aunts and uncles. For reasons unknown, they referred to him as Prince.

He even encountered the daughter of Moon and Water, a stunning goddess with blue skin who spent her time singing and dancing under the moonlight atop the shifting waves.

Noah took pleasure in watching her every night.

Her motions were as fluid and elegant as a stream, yet she seemed as ethereal as a lunar reflection.

No one challenged his presence. Noah himself said nothing to Gaia, despite being fully aware of his actions and the turmoil she was experiencing.

Instead, he carried on with his brief life in a domain where time was meaningless, yet continued to flow regardless.

The only indicators of time’s passage were his maturing body and the dawning realization etched onto Gaia’s face.

Noah continued his journey.

He met an ancient man living atop a great tree and asked for instruction. The old man, flashing his yellowed teeth, taught him the arts of speech and literacy.

He went back to the goddess of the dancing moonwater and requested lessons in song and dance.

She complied with a radiant smile, while the seven suns and three moons looked down with a sense of pride.

Later, Noah traveled to the depths of the lake where Gaia always resided. There, he encountered aquatic beings and monstrous entities, noticing how Gaia’s hair spread through the waters like a net.

He asked the fish to teach him to swim. They agreed, their shark-like grins stretching across their unsightly faces.

Eventually, he discovered a weathered scimitar and whispered to the blade, seeking understanding of the sword path.

The weapon answered him with a raspy, metallic cry.

Thousands of years passed in this manner until Noah’s physical form matched the appearance he had when he first arrived.

Finally, he sat before Gaia, who had remained motionless in her seat throughout the millennia.

They locked eyes. Gaia could see the unmistakable signs of her lineage within him.

His hair remained a mix of green and red, grown long and held back by a blue harpoon—a gift from the goddess of the dancing moonwater. His face was flawless and fair, possessed of an otherworldly beauty. Despite her traits, the Will Eternal could still detect the influence of his true mother.

His true mother...

The thought sparked a flicker of irritation in Gaia.

"Will you permit me to leave?" Noah asked at last, his voice calm.

He had obtained everything he required from this realm. It was time to return; his family was waiting.

Over these years, he had not checked his new system, and his experiences here had not increased his rank.

In fact, he possessed no rank at all.

He had been born as a rankless immortal, despite the innate talents granted by Gaia’s blood. Noah preferred it this way; he knew his system would provide the path for his future breakthroughs.

At his question, Gaia opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. A flash of doubt crossed her beautiful eyes.

She stared intensely at Noah before finally closing her eyes.

"You are not my son," she said harshly.

"I am aware," Noah replied.

"You deserve death." "Why? I played by your rules. I won. It was a fair outcome."

Gaia fell silent for a moment.

"You have achieved your goal." She opened her eyes. "The Son’s influence remains upon you, though it is stored within... a system, as you call it? Yes."

Noah gave a nod.

"You have forged your own power by plundering mine, and you achieved rebirth by seizing my origin blood."

She paused, her gaze fixed on him.

"I am not your mother."

"You have already stated that."

"And I cannot fathom why I allow you to live after your actions. But..." She reached out, grabbing him by the back of the neck. Her nails sank into his skin as she pulled him close until their faces were mere inches apart.

Their matching eyes stared into each other.

"...never speak of what transpired here to anyone. And do not bring dishonor to my blood. Do you understand?" "Why does it matter to you?"

"Do you understand me, Brandon?"

"My name is Noah. And yes, I understand. Now, release me. I have matters to attend to."

"Brandon is your name. Noah is nothing but a mask."

Noah’s brow furrowed.

"And I shall bestow a name of my own."

"What?"

"To me, you shall be Raj Progenar Gaia."

Gaia cast him away like a piece of refuse.

"Do not forget it."

Noah grunted from the force of the throw. His hair reverted to its normal state before he suddenly flickered and vanished, resuming his descent into the Spirit World.

Gaia stood alone, staring at the empty space where Noah had been.

Then, voices rose... "The Prince has departed." "The Son of Reality is gone." "The Child of Eternity has left us." "Where is he?" "Great Mother, where—!"

"SILENCE!" Gaia roared at the entities of her realm—the suns, the moons, the ancient tree, the sea, and the beasts.

Every one of them clamored to know the whereabouts of their prince.

Gaia’s temper flared.

"He is not your prince!" she snapped, forcing them into a cowed silence.

Satisfied, she closed her eyes once more, attempting to return to her meditation. Yet, memories of Noah’s birth kept surfacing.

That agony. That struggle. Was it all meaningless?

Gaia shook her head.

"He is not my son," she muttered again.

"He is not." And yet...

She had named him.

And yet...

She had given him her own name. -End of Chapter 439-