Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

Aether blinked, startled that he was still alive. The poisonous land should have killed him instantly, yet by sheer luck, their battle had carried them beyond its deadly reach.

But the reprieve was fleeting. His body felt like it was being crushed under the weight of the deep ocean, every breath a battle against suffocating pain.

He coughed violently, crimson splattering his palm. Yet, when he looked at his hand, his breath hitched.

It was no longer the youthful, rugged hand he once knew—it was wrinkled, frail, trembling like brittle parchment.

Strands of hair cascaded over his shoulder, and when he caught sight of them, his stomach dropped. They had turned gray.

'I… I overused it…'

Dread washed over him like an unrelenting tide.

'No… I can't go back to normal now…'

But then, a piercing wail shattered his spiraling thoughts.

"Claude! Please! You are the only one I have!"

"My baby!"

The grief-stricken cries echoed through the barren wasteland, raw and agonizing. To anyone else, it was the sound of pure despair.

But to Aether, it was a melody—a divine chorus of victory.

A slow grin twisted his aged face, madness glinting in his weary eyes.

"I won… I WON!" he rasped, forcing his trembling body upright.

He swayed like a newborn fawn, but he didn't care.

"I'll take that filthy corpse back to the church! And that witch—I'll kill her to prove to that bastard old man that I was right!"

His voice was hoarse, cracking like the voice of an old man who had long since lost his prime.

Dalia, lost in mourning, didn't sense his approach—until the back of his hand struck her across the face.

The sharp slap echoed in the frozen wasteland.

"Move aside, you witch! I want to see this filthy daemon's corpse!"

But Dalia didn't move. She curled protectively over Claude's body, her arms shielding him, her trembling frame a barricade against the monster looming over them.

"He isn't dead!" she cried. "He'll wake up again!"

Aether's eye twitched. "What?! You crazy woman—get the hell out of my way!"

Impatience turned to rage. Normally, he wouldn't lay a hand on a woman, but this thing—this vermin—wasn't even human.

She was a witch. Forsaken by the church.

She was filth.

With a snarl, he kicked her.

Dalia gasped as she was thrown to the ground with a sickening thud, but she didn't falter.

Even as her ribs screamed in pain, she crawled forward, throwing herself over Claude once more.

"You bitch! Why won't you listen to me?!" Aether roared, his fury mounting.

"I became like this because of that dirty, wretched daemon!"

His foot struck again. And again. Each blow was ruthless, relentless, filled with hatred.

Dalia whimpered, her frail body curling inward, taking every painful kick. But she refused to move.

'Claude isn't dead. I know he isn't. He'll wake up and call for his mommy like he used to! He's not gone!'

Even as logic whispered that it was futile, her heart clung desperately to hope.

Then—suddenly—the kicks stopped.

A heavy thud followed, and the sound of ragged, pained breathing filled the silence.

Dalia cracked open her swollen eyes, just in time to see Aether collapsed on the ground.

Standing over him were Sun and Shawn.

Aether convulsed, his body writhing in agony. A simple black sphere spell had been enough to send the once-mighty Saint crashing down.

"FFFFUUUUCCCKKK!!! THAT HURTS!!! YOU DIRTY FILTH, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!!"

But no matter how much he screamed, no matter how much his voice bled with rage—his mana was already spent, he couldn't fight nor protect himself now.

Shawn and Sun exchanged a glance, then turned their attention away from the pathetic Saint.

Aether was no longer worth their concern.

Instead, their eyes fell upon their fallen lord, his body motionless, his once-vibrant warmth slowly fading away.

Dalia, her breath ragged, became even more frantic. She clutched Claude's lifeless form, her trembling hands stroking his bloodstained face as if it would take him back to life.

"Shawn! Put your jacket on him—he'll get cold!" she cried.

Shawn's expression twisted in sorrow. He knelt before her, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

"My Lady… the Lord is already gone."

"No, he isn't!" Dalia's voice cracked, her body trembling violently. "He's just hurt—he just needs to be healed!"

Claude's blood had soaked through her garments, staining her hands and arms in a crimson that refused to fade.

Yet she seemed oblivious, her entire being focused on the son she refused to accept was gone.

Sun, his ears flattened and tail dragging lifelessly behind him, padded forward.

He curled up on Claude's stomach, pressing his face against him as if hoping to feel the familiar rise and fall of his breath.

But there was nothing. The bond they once shared had been severed—his lord was dead.

Or so he thought.

Sun's ears suddenly twitched. Something was… off. There was something strange about Claude's body.

Before he could investigate, the sound of marching boots and sharp, commanding voices echoed from the distance.

The Holy Knights and clerics of the Everbright Church were approaching.

Nadia had called for reinforcements. From afar, she had witnessed the sheer devastation wrought by the battle between Claude and Aether.

Now, she was bringing the Church's might down upon them.

Shawn stiffened, his instincts screaming danger. He turned to Dalia, urgency clear in his voice.

"My Lady, we need to go!"

"But what about Claude?! We can't leave him here!"

Dalia clutched at her son's limp form, trying desperately to lift him onto her back.

But he was too heavy, his body refusing to move no matter how hard she tried.

"Help me, Shawn!"

Shawn hesitated, his heart warring with his duty. The knights were closing in. If they stayed, they would be overwhelmed.

He was no warrior—his skills lay elsewhere. He couldn't win this fight.

But then—Claude's last order echoed in his mind.

A firm grip on his shoulder. Steely eyes, unwavering, filled with resolve.

"Whatever happens, protect my mother. She is your priority. Protect her with your own life."

"But My Lord… who will protect you?"

Claude had only scoffed, his smirk carrying both confidence and resignation.

"Both of us know there's no one in this group stronger than me. If I die, you won't have a chance to win either."

"I don't need your protection. But my mother does. So stick to her instead. Even if I die… protect her."

Shawn clenched his fists.

He had his answer.

"I'm sorry, My Lady," he said, voice laced with regret, "but we can't. We need to leave—now!"

He grabbed Dalia's wrist, but she struggled violently.

"No! Don't take me away! Don't separate me from my son!" she sobbed, thrashing against him.

But Shawn gritted his teeth and pulled her away, his heart breaking at the sheer agony in her voice.

Sun, however, remained at Claude's side, unmoving. His golden eyes darkened as he turned to face the oncoming holy knights and clerics.

Even if he had to stand alone, he would not let them defile his master's body.

From afar, Nadia spotted them. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she raised her arm and pointed.

"There they are! Attack! Don't let them escape!"

The knights charged forward.

Meanwhile, Aether erupted into laughter, his voice filled with unhinged glee.

"HAHAHAHA! FINALLY! YOU'RE ALL GOING TO—!"

His words were cut off.

A hand clamped tightly around his throat.

Aether's breath hitched, his body freezing in shock.

He turned his wide, panicked eyes toward the figure that had dared to seize him—

And his blood ran cold.