Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed through the quiet outskirts as Claude rode his trusted horse, Snow.

His mind was set on reaching the elder couple's home when the sudden sound of galloping hooves disrupted his thoughts.

"Your Majesty! Wait! I will come with you!"

Claude exhaled sharply, already recognizing the voice before he turned around.

As expected, Wren rode up behind him, his face beaming with excitement, waving as if this were some casual outing rather than a military expedition.

Claude sighed, rubbing his temple. Father and son… Why must both of them trouble me in different ways?

For Claude, Wren was a relentless headache. He talked too much, moved too much, and asked too many questions. Just looking at him was exhausting.

As Wren finally pulled his horse up beside him, he wasted no time launching into his usual complaints. "Your Majesty, why do you always exclude me whenever you can?"

Claude ignored him, hoping that silence might deter him. It didn't.

"Just a few days ago, you were off somewhere with Princess Morion and Sun! Having fun without me! And I still don't even know where you went!"

Wren sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "It broke my heart, you know."

Claude rolled his eyes.

"Should I start sleeping in front of your room? That way, you won't be able to sneak off without me!" Wren added, his tone utterly serious.

Claude's frown deepened. This man… He's even worse than Morion.

His thoughts drifted to the princess, remembering how he had to calm her down when he forbade her from joining this expedition.

Her power made it impossible—her body naturally emitted a toxic aroma that could kill humans with prolonged exposure.

Since he needed the captured villagers alive, Morion had been left behind.

She had not taken it well. In her fury, she had declared an eating strike. It had taken Dalia's intervention—allowing Morion to play in the harem palace—to calm her down, at least for a while.

Meanwhile, here was Wren, throwing his own brand of tantrum.

Claude massaged his temple. "No, Wren. You already cause me enough stress. The only thing I need from you is silence."

Wren's eyes widened, and Claude half-expected him to take offense. Instead, he responded with, "Ah, I see! So you want me to practice fasting from talking! My mother used to tell me that—"

"Sssttt." Claude shot him a sharp glare.

Wren immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. "Ah, right! My apologies, Your Majesty. I will stop talking."

For a moment, blissful silence filled the air.

But barely minutes passed before Wren began shifting restlessly, fidgeting in his saddle, glancing repeatedly at Claude.

Claude clenched his jaw. He had reached his limit.

Without a word, he spurred Snow forward, his massive horse bolting ahead, leaving Wren behind in a cloud of dust.

Claude finally arrived at the elder couple's home. The house was small and unassuming, the wooden walls worn by time.

Yet, it was eerily silent. No one stood outside, no candlelight flickered through the windows—only the faint scent of burning wood from the distant village filled the cold air.

As he dismounted Snow, the rhythmic clatter of hooves behind him signaled Wren's inevitable arrival.

"Your Majesty! That was a fun race! You're really good at riding too, huh?"

Wren beamed, brushing the dust off his sleeves as if the entire thing had been a lighthearted game.

Claude didn't even bother acknowledging him. This was exactly why cruel words or even outright violence never worked on Wren.

The fool's head was empty—an endless abyss of misplaced optimism. He could twist anything, even an insult, into a compliment.

Instead of responding, Claude knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked harder. Still nothing.

"Huh? Your Majesty, they're probably too scared or hiding inside. Just look at the smoke from the village—they know something happened."

Claude hummed in agreement. For once, Wren made sense.

Without further hesitation, he raised his foot and kicked the door. Wood splintered as it flew off its hinges—only for his instincts to flare the moment he stepped forward.

A shimmering barrier greeted him, crackling with faint white light. Behind it stood a woman—her stance firm, her body positioned protectively in front of the two elders huddled behind her.

Claude's crimson eyes widened ever so slightly. Even in her tattered clothes, her beauty remained undiminished.

Golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a striking face that radiated both defiance and exhaustion.

Her violet irises—so rare, so mesmerizing—burned with an unwavering will. And her body…

An hourglass figure sculpted to perfection, emphasized by her full breasts and curvaceous hips, draped in ruined fabric that barely concealed her elegance.

Yet, what caught his attention the most was the crimson stain spreading across her abdomen. She was gravely wounded.

"Don't come any closer, or I'll kill you!" Her voice rang outs sharp.

Claude's smirk wavered into disappointment. No recognition in her eyes.

"You dare threaten His Majesty?" Wren barked, stepping forward with a hand on his sword.

Claude raised a hand, stopping him. His gaze never left the woman before him.

"Aubree," he said, voice smooth, almost amused. "Don't you remember me?"

The woman—Aubree—frowned, eyes narrowing in confusion. "I would never know a monster like you!"

Her gaze flicked to his horns, finally registering the subtle yet inhuman features of his new form.

Claude chuckled. "What a shame. You don't remember lifting me up as a child? Holding me so tightly against your chest so I could—"

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. "—feel those beautiful tits of yours?"

Aubree's face turned scarlet. She crossed her arms over her chest in outrage. "You…! You perverted monster!"

A snap of mana crackled in the air as she chanted, "Inferno Arrow!"

Three fiery projectiles erupted from glowing magic circles, speeding toward him.

Claude barely blinked. A flick of his hand conjured a barrier, the flames dispersing harmlessly against it. And in the same heartbeat, he vanished—

Only to reappear right in front of her as the barrier broken into pieces.

Aubree gasped, her breath hitching as Claude's body pressed against hers. S hane circled her waist, his crimson eyes locked onto hers, unwavering, intense.

"Now do you remember me?" he murmured, his voice low, teasing, the heat of his breath fanning against her cheek.

Aubree's hands clenched, instinct screaming at her to push him away. But the moment her gaze met his…

Memories came rushing back.

She had seen those eyes before. So many times.

The boy her daughter had drawn endlessly—the first love of Aurelia's life.

Her lips parted in disbelief. "...Claude?"

His smirk deepened.

"Oh, so you finally remember me," he purred.

And in his mind, a single thought echoed—'Finally, all the MILF I desired are within my grasp.'