Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

The room dimmed as the projection crystal flickered to life, casting eerie shadows across the grand courtroom.

Silence fell. On the screen, a grainy recording played, revealing a dimly lit room. Though the figures were cloaked in darkness, their voices rang out clear and unmistakable.

"I can't believe it was that easy to fool the king. He bought every word."

Gasps erupted among the nobility. Shan, standing near the center, paled as he shot to his feet.

"This—! Your Majesty, this is false! A fabrication!"

Claude slammed his gavel down with a sharp crack. His voice was low, but it echoed with authority.

"Sit down and shut your mouth, or I'll make you."

Shan flinched but obeyed, clenching his fists tightly. His eyes darted toward Rowan, who remained composed, lips pressed in a flat line.

Then came the second voice, deep and calm.

"Of course he did."

The hooded man in the recording reached up and pulled back his cowl, revealing a face aged with lines and experience—Rowan of House Rolvod, the kingdom's High Magistrate, the very man responsible for justice across the realm.

"The king acts on fury, never reason. All we needed was the right push. Now, William will be ruined—and I will ensure it myself, with the full force of my authority."

The courtroom erupted. Shocked murmurs, gasps, and shaking heads filled the chamber. Some looked stunned.

Others, seasoned nobles, merely sighed. They had expected this the moment Rowan aligned himself with the opposition.

"That's a lie! This is fabricated, Your Majesty!" Rowan finally stood, his voice strained.

"Why would I ever stoop to something so crude? I am the head of the judicial system! If I wanted to bring you down, I could do far worse—legally."

Claude's glare darkened. Shadows flickered behind him like crawling smoke.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Rowan?" he said coldly. "Shut the fuck up. This is not your turn to speak."

Rowan's defiance faltered. Sweat rolled down his temple as he sat back down, lips sealed.

The record continued. Another figure emerged—still cloaked, face hidden in darkness. He placed a firm hand on Shan's shoulder.

"You did well, my child. Just as I raised you to. I always knew your bloodline would serve a higher purpose."

"...Father…"

A chill swept through the courtroom. Daemons shifted uneasily in their seats, glancing around. That voice—deep, familiar.

But no one could find its source. The man wasn't present.

The recording played on.

The shadowed figure raised a wine glass high.

"To the glory of Elysium."

The others followed, echoing with solemn devotion.

"To the glory of Elysium!"

Then the projection cut to black.

Silence fell again, cold and tense. Heavy with realization.

Claude's voice finally broke it.

"Well then… seems we've only just begun."

"Indeed, this is just the beginning."

The courtroom doors slammed open, the echo ringing through the silent hall. All eyes turned as Emmet strolled in with a lazy, almost mocking grace, as if he hadn't just been unmasked as part of a conspiracy.

"Yes, it's me," he announced, raising his arms theatrically. "I'm the last figure in that recording. And you're wrong, Claude. I can usurp you… just like that."

He snapped his fingers.

Shan flinched, eyes wide in disbelief. "F-Father! Are you really doing this?"

Emmet cast a disappointed glance his way, lips curled in disdain. "Yes, son. And it's all because of you that I had to resort to this extreme measure." He shook his head with a cold chuckle. "Your pathetic acting ruined our entire plan."

"B-but I—!" Shan's voice cracked. He sank back into his chair, trembling, consumed by shame. He never imagined he would disappoint his father all over again.

Rowan suddenly stood, as if the drama had reignited his resolve. He strode toward the center of the courtroom, voice rising with every word.

"Give up the crown, Claude! You don't deserve to sit on that throne!"

He pointed a trembling finger at the king.

"You deceived us all with that nonsense about being the descendant of the Lord of Calamity! You're nothing but a failed copy! A fraud!"

He swept his arm toward the tall courtroom windows.

"There are hundreds of cacodemons with three-star evolution waiting outside! Ready to rip everyone in this room to shreds if you don't surrender!"

Claude, in response, let out a long yawn, slouching back into his chair like a man watching a poorly written opera.

His gaze never once left William. Llyold sighed beside him, clearly fed up with the theatrics, while Ezra—ever serious—stood tense, hand hovering near his sword.

William stepped forward, his voice firm. "Enough, brother. This treason will never succeed."

Emmet tilted his head, a mocking smile on his lips. "How cute. Look at you pretending to be the righteous one."

His voice grew sharp. "You're the one who called Claude a fraud! You said I should take the crown!"

Claude blinked. "Seriously, William?"

William sighed, looking down briefly before facing the king. "I apologize, Your Majesty. But back then, most of the Honorable Houses agreed—you were too harsh, and we feared you were dismantling everything Lord Donovan built."

He glanced at Llyold, who looked away.

"But you proved us wrong. Your reforms—prioritizing the common folk—strengthened the economy."

"You conquered new territories, brought in labor from the outside, and even your bizarre Red Slumber initiative turned out to be immensely beneficial."

William turned back to Emmet, voice hardening.

"You led the council for years and accomplished nothing. Claude did more in half the time than you ever could."

The words landed like a blade to Emmet's pride. His jaw clenched. Then he laughed it off, hollow and bitter.

"Well then," he said with a smirk, turning toward the assembled nobles.

"Why don't we settle this properly? Let every member of the council decide if Claude is truly worthy of the crown."

***

Morion lay curled up in Claude's bed, her nose buried deep in his pillow.

"Mmm~ smells like Father!" she sighed dreamily, hugging the pillow close. "What's taking him so long? He promised to play with me today…"

Of course, to her, playing often meant slaughtering humans or hunting cacodemons.

But suddenly, her sharp ears perked up. She felt it—a dark, powerful aura spreading throughout the palace. No… not just the palace. It was everywhere, even outside the walls.

She slowly sat up, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Is this the game Father mentioned?!"

With giddy excitement, she leaped from the bed and drew an intricate magic circle on the floor. At its center, she etched a closed eye.

Kneeling, she pressed her palm against the circle and whispered,

"O darkness that knows all, for these words lie in your grasp… Show me what you see."

The drawn eye suddenly snapped open, revealing a glowing crimson iris. In Morion's mind, visions flooded in—the palace, its corridors, its secrets.

Guards lay unconscious. Cacodemons, too. A woman, possibly a beast tamer, strolled casually over their bodies, monsters trailing behind her like an obedient parade. And she was heading straight for—

"Harem Palace!" Morion gasped.

"Wait for me! I'll save you all!" With a flash, she vanished.

The young girl reappeared inside the Harem Palace, only to find everyone fast asleep. She darted from room to room—concubines, witches, even Dalia herself lay unconscious, unmoving. In the nursery, the babies slumbered without a sound.

"Hmph! What a cheap magic! Should I destroy it?" she frowned, tapping her chin. "But… if this is Father's game, breaking it would be cheating, right?"

Before she could decide, a voice called out.

"Morion! What's going on? Is the palace under attack?"

She turned to find Layla, holding a newborn, and Lilac, waddling toward her with a very pregnant belly.

"Oh, don't worry!" Morion chirped, puffing out her chest. "It's just a game between me and Father!"

The two women exchanged doubtful looks, though Lilac was the first to play along.

"I see… Well then, why don't you help us move the witches and concubines into the nursery and lock them in? Seal it with your magic so they won't disturb your game."

She smirked slyly. "Especially Lady Dalia. You know how she gets when you run around the palace."

Morion gasped in horror. "She would scold me!"

With a flash, she teleported all the concubines and witches into the nursery and sealed the room with her strongest spell.

"Whew! Now I can play in peace." She wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Good girl," Lilac said, patting her head. "Just make sure you play outside. We'll stay here and make sure no one wakes up to scold you."

Layla nudged her sister and whispered, "Is this okay? Shouldn't we help her?"

"With your post-birth body and my belly? Not a chance," Lilac muttered back. "My baby's going to be the next king or queen. I'm not risking it."

She smiled sweetly and added, "Besides, isn't this Father and Morion's game? We shouldn't interrupt, right?"

Morion beamed and nodded. "Right!"

Her ears twitched again.

"They're here!"

She vanished in an instant, reappearing outside the Harem Palace. With a swift gesture, she sealed the entire building and crossed her arms, her expression darkening.

"Let's see who dares come close."

True to her words, the woman in her vision came and about twenty cacodemons trailed behind her with a menacing aura.

Morion smirked, "Father step up in his game! Most of those monsters are in two and three-star evolutions!"

"Let's see how long they could play with me!"