Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

Mahira's hand trembled as she unraveled the scroll, the old parchment dry and fraying at the edges.

It was her last resort to stay alive as the monster in front of her approached with such terrifying smile.

'I need to survive, I'm sorry Father...'

Crimson glyphs began to glow across the surface, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.

It was a scroll passed down through generations containing the legendary cacodemon her great-great-grandfather was able to tame.

And it is also a destructive one.

"Answer my call," she whispered. "O ancient one, bloodbound to my family's line... rise."

A tear in the air formed like cracked glass. The world shuddered. From the breach, something crawled forth—massive, hunched, cloaked in dense smoke.

Its shape solidified: obsidian-black skin, plated like armor, four arms tipped with jagged claws, and a face with too many crimson eyes that blinked in unnatural rhythms.

It grinned, fanged and sharp. "Another child sacrifices me to die for her."

But as it was seen Mahira who was slumped on the ground trembled it sighed, "Another disappointed master... What a shame I need to follow your order."

Mahira clenched her hands as she tried to stand up, "Defeat her, Zora!" she pointed at Morion.

Morion tilted her head. Her dress fluttered as dark mana gathered around her like a slow storm.

"Oh, you talk. That's refreshing."

"And you reek of rot and poison," the monster growled. "What are you?"

"Your worst idea." She raised her hand. The runes spiraled into her palm as she whispered, "Voidlock."

In an instant, the space around them peeled away, folding like paper. The harem garden, the stone halls, and even the distant sun vanished.

They now stood in a jagged arena suspended in darkness. Shattered palace stones floated midair. Cracks in reality glimmered like lightning.

Morion giggled. "Mama won't yell at me if it breaks this palace."

The beast cracked its neck. "You bring me to your nest. Brave or foolish."

"Let's find out."

Zora struck first. Too fast for its size. Claws sliced through the air—not aiming to wound but to kill.

Morion ducked and rolled, her boots skidding on a floating slab. She raised both hands.

"Black Thorn!"

Spears of blackened vines erupted from the air, stabbing toward the beast. It leaped sideways, one arm catching a thorn and snapping it with a crunch. It landed on all fours.

"Predictable."

"Bite me."

Morion vanished—not teleported but split into shadows. They circled the beast like wolves, flickering in and out.

The monster frowned. "Shadowplay? You fight like a starving witch."

She emerged above it. "Echo Bloom!"

A pulse of sound and shadow exploded down. The beast roared, blinded momentarily. Still, it swung blindly and caught her leg mid-fall. Morion slammed into a stone pillar.

She winced, the breath knocked from her lungs. Blood trickled from her lip. For the first time in a long time, someone was able to throw her like this!

"Alright," she muttered, standing slowly.

"You're not just a big brute. You think and I kinda love it! Finally, something that doesn't die the moment I chant a spell!"

Zora laughed and roared, "You will regret looking down on me."

She hissed under her breath and flicked her wrists. Annoyed by his sudden roar and also, she was late to go to the afternoon tea!

"So loud," she muttered, annoyed. "Let me show you what silence tastes like."

She inhaled slowly, her dark mana pulsing in waves.

A shimmer spread across her skin—scales, faint and midnight-black, flickered into existence.

Her blood was venom. Her breath decayed. She was a dark draconis—not just by title, but by nature.

Zora lunged again. This time, Morion didn't dodge. She smiled.

"Venom Bloom."

The words echoed like a curse.

A black mist burst from her body in a wide radius. The air thickened, like drowning in shadows.

The rocks beneath her feet darkened, corroding from the sheer presence of her venom.

The beast halted mid-charge. Its legs trembled. Its weapons drooped as It could feel its lungs burn. He knew this wasn't a normal spell...

Most of the dark mage spells containing venom and poison were really strong and deadly and now Zora knew the one in front of it not only from a daemon race but another mixed.

More a stronger and more ancient one.

"Too close," Morion said softly, stepping forward. Her feet made no sound.

The mist clung to the monster's chitin, seeping through every crack, eating into it like acid. Not instantly deadly—but deeply weakening, rotting the creature from the inside out.

"Didn't your master tell you?" she whispered. "Never breathe near a dark Draconis."

The beast snarled, but now each step was labored. It coughed—black sludge trickled from its mouth. Still, it refused to fall. Its eyes flared in stubborn fury.

Morion tilted her head. "Oh? Still standing?"

She raised her hand again, gathering the shadows around her fingers like threads of silk.

"Let's change that."

She spun once, low and graceful, and cast:

"Hollow Needle."

Dozens of tiny, almost invisible spikes of dark mana launched from her silhouette, targeting nerve points and weak joints. Each one pierced with precision—not to kill, but to paralyze.

The beast roared, swung once—and missed. Its knees buckled.

One hand dropped a weapon. Then another.

Morion approached slowly, her footsteps silent as mist curled around her like a funeral veil.

"This venom will kill you slowly," she whispered, her voice menacing enough to make Zora tremble.

"Every minute will rot your body further until you die a miserable, twitching husk—and I'll be right here, watching it all."

Zora could only tremble, the venom already coursing through its veins. Its crimson eyes began to melt, vision warping.

And the last thing it ever saw... was a creature more terrifying than anything it had ever known.

"What a shame my father couldn't see how great I've become!" she declared, spreading her arms, stretching like she was just doing some chores.

"But once again—I win this round!"

She twirled once in giddy triumph—then froze.

Her eyes narrowed.

"…She's running," Morion muttered.

Mahira, she could feel the presence slipping away like smoke.

"Tch! I hate hunting rats," she groaned, already annoyed as she ran again, trying to feel the weak presence of the beastamer.

***

"Emmet! What you've done is unforgivable!"

Llyold snarled fists clenched so tightly they trembled. He fought the urge to recite a spell and end the man before him.

But he couldn't.

Not here.

This building—this one place—was sealed within an anti-magic barrier. No spell, no enchantment, no divine aid. None of them could cast a thing.

"Unforgivable? That man stole my rights to the throne! What he has done is unforgivable!" Emmet screamed, still in the delusion that all of this was his.

Claude stepped forward, his voice like thunder rolling through the hall. "If you so much as touch a strand of hair on any of my concubines or my children… I will drag you into hell myself and watch you burn."

The room fell into silence.

No mana—yet the sheer pressure of Claude's presence made everyone shudder. Even without his powers, he exuded the weight of a king.

Emmet's heart skipped, but he masked it with a grin. He knew Claude's weakness better than anyone.

"Why should I obey you?" Emmet laughed. "You're not king anymore."

He tilted his head and said in a mocking tone, "So? Your mother—or should I say, your lover—gets to live in exchange for your crown. That's not such a bad deal, is it?"

Claude's eyes flared with rage. His temple throbbed, veins bulging.

Without warning, he moved.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Emmet, one hand clutching the man's throat and lifting him off the ground like a doll.

Gasps echoed around the hall. Even Llyold looked stunned. He had never knew could move like that without any spell or mana since he was originally a mage.

"Y-You…!" Emmet wheezed, his nails digging into Claude's wrist.

Shan and Rowan moved to defend him—but were stopped instantly. Llyold stepped in, knocking Shan's sword aside and holding him back.

Eldrich appeared beside Rowan, seizing his neck in a grip that left him paralyzed.

"You've lost," Claude growled. "End your foolish rebellion. Give Dalia back to me."

Emmet's face turned purple. "Th-There are… magic circles all over the harem palace," he choked out. "Explosive runes. If I die… it all goes up in flames."

Claude didn't loosen his grip, but tightened on it instead, smile appeared as he could see Emmet couldn't breathe anymore as he was dying.

Llyold screamed, "Your Majesty! Think! Dalia, your children—the twins! They're still in the palace! Do you want to bury them in ash?!"

Claude froze.

Dalia's gentle smile flashed in his mind. Layla, cradling newborns. Lilac, pregnant and glowing with life. The others, each one carrying his bloodline.

His jaw tightened. Slowly—reluctantly—he released Emmet, who dropped like a sack of stones, coughing and laughing hysterically.

"I told you," Emmet wheezed, staggering upright. "I deserve the crown. I have no weaknesses. No attachments. I love no one but myself!"

He laughed harder, clutching Claude's shoulder.

"Now give me your crown, your scepter, and the orb. Everything!"

Claude's eyes turned bloodshot. Words rose in his throat—but before he could speak, the great door burst open.

A familiar voice rang out:

"Father! I brought you the rat!"

Morion stood there, grinning wide.

"And I win again!"