Netori Harem: New life as a hunter and gatherer

If Ilya were to describe what her eyes showed her at that moment, she would have needed only one word.

Carnage.

For brief stretches, she had regained enough of her senses to comprehend what was happening around the battlefield and how violently the situation had shifted in their favor.

Something had assaulted their minds. It was the same oppressive sensation she had felt back then, when she and Luke were approaching that cave.

While everyone else clutched their heads and struggled against the terrible sensation, only one man remained unaffected. Better, he had exploited it in a manner that seemed almost impossible for a human being.

"What... what? What?!" Regath stumbled through several stages of shock and denial within the span of mere seconds. His eyes widened as he frantically looked around, his face turning pale beneath the horror and confusion that seized him.

Blergh.

A few warriors from both sides staggered away and began vomiting. Even those who had spent years on battlefields were unable to stomach what lay before them.

The bodies of warriors were strewn across the ground, their remains drenched in the thick blood Luke had spilled. Some had been disemboweled, their stomachs torn open. Others had been pierced clean through the chest. Some were so brutally mutilated that their faces were no longer recognizable.

Luke had barely spent any time on a single opponent. Yet, despite the speed and sheer brutality of his assault, every strike had been precise. Every blow had found something vital, ending each man’s right to draw another breath.

"Luke..." Ilya whispered faintly as she approached him.

His body radiated a soft, silvery light. Even his hair had turned silver as he remained on one knee, his chest rising and falling heavily while blood trickled from his ears and nose.

He looked exhausted, and rightfully so. Ilya could scarcely believe he was still conscious after such a prolonged streak of slaughter.

But exhaustion was not the only thing that should have broken him. The sheer scale of the massacre alone should have been enough to overwhelm anyone, regardless of their experience or how many battlefields they had witnessed.

And yet, when Ilya looked into his eyes, she found none of that.

There was no panic or hesitation.

Only determination.

A cold, unwavering determination to end this.

Luke slowly rose to his feet.

"Step back."

The bloodlust woven into those two words was enough to make Ilya retreat instinctively.

Kalish immediately caught his daughter before she could stumble, and together they watched as Luke steadied himself on his feet.

His very presence seemed to freeze the air around them. The noise that had previously filled the battlefield, the shouts, the cries, the naked hunger for blood, all of it seemed to have been swallowed by Luke’s overwhelming presence.

His gaze settled on Regath, carrying an unmistakable hunger.

A massive hammer materialized in his right hand.

The pressure radiating from him intensified, becoming so immense that several warriors instinctively recoiled. Then Luke took a single step forward.

"Aaaah!"

"I can’t take this!"

"Run! That monster... he’s a monster!"

It began with one man.

Then another.

And another.

Within moments, panic swept through the remaining forces. Warriors turned and fled without even looking back.

Regath did not have the courage to turn around and condemn his men for their cowardice. At that moment, it felt as though the slightest distraction, even a single breath taken at the wrong moment, could cost him his life.

Most of his men ran.

Those who remained were either bound to him by a loyalty strong enough to overcome their terror, or simply too terrified and exhausted to flee.

Luke paid none of them any attention.

His eyes remained fixed solely on Regath.

He simply walked toward him, his steps steady. There was not even the slightest stagger in his movements, as though he had not just slaughtered more than two hundred men within the span of a few breaths.

He stepped over the corpses littering the battlefield, each footfall carrying him closer to the man responsible for bringing this carnage upon them.

And when Luke finally stood before him, Regath’s legs gave out.

He collapsed onto his knees, lowering his head as his entire body trembled.

"Please... spare me."

His voice was barely more than a quiver.

"I made a mistake coming here. It’s just a feud between me and Kalish. I shouldn’t have..."

Luke growled.

His hand shot forward and seized Regath by the hair, violently yanking his head upward. Regath’s face twisted in pain as Luke forced him to look in the direction of the village behind them.

"You see that village?"

Luke’s voice was low, yet every word carried the weight of something far more terrifying than a scream.

"That’s my home."

His grip tightened.

"And you dared to harm my people."

Luke’s eyes narrowed, the silver radiance surrounding him flickering violently.

"My family."

Regath’s eyes filled with tears as he desperately pleaded, "Please... give me one chance. I will become your servant. Please."

His pride, his arrogance, everything that had defined him only moments ago had vanished in an instant when confronted with the certainty of his own death.

Luke growled as he sensed someone approaching.

"Stay back," he commanded.

But the approaching figure did not stop.

Luke turned over his shoulder and found Ilya standing there. There was nothing threatening in her expression or her movements. She was here to make a request.

In a low voice, she said, "He killed someone close to me and my family. I request that you let me be his executioner."

Kalish was barely keeping himself upright, his expression tense with worry. He feared that Ilya might say something that could offend Luke.

At this moment, it was not only Regath’s forces who were wary of the boy.

Even his own people were beginning to tread carefully around him.

Luke stared at Ilya for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, at last, he muttered, "I will see him dead. Only then will I leave."

Ilya met his gaze without hesitation.

"I won’t disappoint you."

Luke looked back at Regath one final time before snickering and violently yanking his head backward.

Then he released him.

Without another word, Luke stomped his way back toward his original position, each heavy step betraying his irritation. He was clearly displeased that he would not be the one to kill Regath himself, but he had given his word.

Meanwhile, the moment Luke moved away, Regath gritted his teeth and slowly lifted his head.

"Go ahead. Get up and fight me if you wish," Ilya urged.

She was in no particular hurry to attack him. There was almost a chilling calmness in the way she stood there, as though she wanted to give him one final opportunity to resist.

Her hair suddenly began to drift upward, strands floating weightlessly around her head. Orbs of flame materialized within both her hands, their flickering light illuminating her emotionless expression.

Then her presence expanded.

The very air around her seemed to grow heavier beneath the pressure she released.

She stared coldly at the trembling man before her.

"Do whatever you want but I promise you..."

"You will cry before meeting your maker."

The flames in her hands burned brighter.

"Just like you made her cry."

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