Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 119: The Dark Harvest Ball

Today marked the grand ball at the palace—a celebration of the successful Dark Harvest campaign, and the beginning of an even greater conquest.

But Claude wasn't particularly excited about the speeches or ceremonies.

What he'd truly been looking forward to… was bedding the daemons he had sent flowers to during the last banquet.

With all the chaos and responsibilities that piled up afterward, he had honestly lost track. Was it five? Or ten?

'Eh, five are enough for tonight,' he nodded to himself, satisfied with the number.

"Father, perhaps you could focus on the ball first?" Morion interrupted dryly, pulling him out of his wandering thoughts.

Claude blinked and looked ahead—still seated on his throne while Sun, Vulture, Hendrich, Samson, and Wren remained kneeling before him.

Right. Today was also the day to reward his warriors for their efforts in the campaign. Traditionally, the reward would be land or titles.

But since the mist in Elysium prevented expansion for now, he had to get creative—offering gold, women, or grants land outside Elysium instead.

Claude cleared his throat, his tone turning kingly and authoritative.

"Hendrich Xalvach and Samson Xalvach. For your contributions to the Dark Harvest campaign, you are both granted stewardship over Deepstone Quarry."

"Hendrich, you'll oversee the mines. Samson, the outposts."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" both brothers said in unison, bowing deeply.

Claude continued, his gaze shifting.

"As for Wren…" He paused, letting the air hang heavy with anticipation.

"You will receive the Medal of Honor, for your service as an exceptional royal guard and knight."

Wren's chest swelled with pride. "Yes! Thank you, Your Majesty! My life belongs to you!"

Claude stood and took the ceremonial sword from Lloyd. With practiced ease, he tapped Wren's right shoulder, then his left.

"Arise, Sir Wren Olvon."

Wren rose with shining eyes. "Yes, Your Majesty!"

Claude then hung the medal around Wren's neck, completing the ceremony. He leaned in slightly and whispered:

"If you want to keep your position, stand tall and keep your damn mouth shut."

Wren's eyes widened—not in offense, but with heartfelt emotion.

"Understood, Your Majesty! Thank you for guiding me!"

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Claude gave him a blank stare. 'What the hell is this guy even thinking?'

Just then, the ceremony was interrupted by Aldrich, who rushed forward and suddenly hugged his son with trembling arms.

"I'm proud of you, son!" he exclaimed, voice thick with emotion.

"Thank you, Father! I'm proud of myself too!" Wren said, embracing him back.

Normally, Aldrich would've smacked him for saying something that arrogant—but today, he only nodded, feeling like the proudest father alive.

Meanwhile, Claude turned toward Sun and Vulture, who were still kneeling.

"Sun. Vulture," he called, and both raised their heads attentively.

"As thanks for your loyalty and service… I am giving you each a woman."

"Eh?!" they both shouted in perfect unison, their faces pale with confusion.

Claude crossed his arms with a smirk. "You'll also receive a house and a generous sum of gold to provide for them."

"Consider it your duty now—make strong children to strengthen daemon society."

Too stunned to speak, yet far too terrified to decline a royal gift, the two simply exchanged nervous glances and nodded in silence.

Claude chuckled. "Alright. The formalities are over. Heroes have been honored. Let the music begin! Eat, drink, dance—celebrate as much as you like!"

As the music swelled and the hall came alive with movement, laughter, and the clinking of goblets, Claude's eyes scanned the dance floor.

His gaze lingered on the ten daemon women who wore the flower pins he had gifted them at the last banquet.

They were his for tonight.

Well, at least five of them.

They were ordinary daemons with no special skill in magic or a high status like Layla and Lilac, but Claude hadn't chosen them purely for beauty or curves.

Each one had enough mana to potentially bear his children—an important factor in his growing ambition.

Kiera had assisted in the selection process, giving her analysis with mechanical precision:

[Out of the ten you've selected, only one daemon possesses the capacity to birth an A-rank descendant. However, the probability is low—approximately 20%.]

'It's fine,' Claude mused with a grin. 'As long as they lay five eggs a year, right?'

[Correct! Even if the children are weak, they will still yield between 1,000 to 2,000 attribute points each.]

'Nice. That's at least 50,000 extra attribute points,' he thought with a pleased smirk.

But his fantasy was short-lived.

Sun appeared beside him, whispering discreetly, "Your Majesty, I need to speak with you. Privately."

Claude raised an eyebrow. "Alright," he said, rising from his seat and guiding Sun to one of the private rest chambers near the ballroom.

Just as they stepped inside and shut the door, another figure barged in—Vulture, out of breath, his once-pristine tux disheveled and messy.

"Your Majesty!" Vulture exclaimed, nearly stumbling forward.

Claude stared. "What the hell happened to you?"

Vulture composed himself, adjusting his collar as he panted. "There were… a lot of women trying to get close to me. I think… I'm not good with women."

Claude blinked. "So you prefer men?"

"No! That's not what I meant!" Vulture panicked, waving his hands. "I just like being alone. Having a woman in my private space—it's… strange."

Claude leaned back in the chair and exhaled slowly. "You don't need to fall in love with her. Just give her a home, nice dresses, a few jewels, mate with her, fake a smile now and then—and that's it."

"But that's the problem!" Vulture looked distressed. "Unlike you, I'm terrible at pretending!"

Claude gave a low chuckle. "Then just try. Whether you like her or not, you'll only know after giving it a shot. I don't want to hear another no from you."

Vulture looked down, clearly conflicted—but in the end, he gave a reluctant nod.

Claude turned to Sun. "And you? Don't tell me you're rejecting my gift too."

Sun scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Yes… I already have one, so adding another feels… off."

Claude sighed, visibly disappointed. "I wonder how all of you turned out so sentimental when your lord stands before you, a proud man with an ever-growing harem."

He narrowed his eyes. "You do realize, even if it's a gift—it's still an order."

"I do need your children to serve this kingdom since both of you have potential. That's just what I want."

The room fell silent. Neither Sun nor Vulture dared argue further.

Then Claude added, almost casually to Sun, "Ah, right. Your woman—has she decided what she wants yet?"

Sun hesitated before answering. "I… talked to her. Told her it's her choice."

Claude leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "And what exactly did you talk about?"

Claude takes a lot of interest in Sun's relationship with Claris, if they were in a good one, it was possible they would mate again and maybe their child would have a perfect balance that has a light and dark affinity.

Sun shifted uncomfortably, then sighed and told him everything.

***

A few days after Claude visited their domain, Sun found himself sitting across from Claris.

The woman looked better than before—her cheeks no longer hollow, her skin no longer pale—but her silence remained.

It was as if her lips had been sewn shut, refusing to open no matter how much time passed.

Sun didn't harbor any special feelings for her. But he appreciated her quiet cooperation—how she helped raise his children, kept the house clean, and never once complained.

Still, more than anything, he pitied her.

"What do you want to do, Claris?" he asked, voice soft, eyes watching her closely.

"Do you want to leave this domain and live peacefully somewhere outside?"

She didn't respond. Her eyes remained downcast, her hands folded neatly on her lap. She hadn't looked at him once since they sat down.

"You can decide freely. I won't stop you." Sun continued gently.

"Onyx and Jeff are doing fine with me. They're almost three now. They'll be able to hunt and live on their own soon."

At that, Claris's fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her dress. Her knuckles turned white.

Sun noticed—but didn't press. He just kept speaking.

"You need to understand… my lord plans to conquer many kingdoms. When that day comes, no one from your race will be spared. The ones who aren't killed will be enslaved."

"So if you want a future," he added, voice firmer now, "ask him. Ask His Majesty for a house. A small plot of land in Elysium. Or even a position in the palace if it's possible."

"I'm sure he'll grant you that much."

***

"She didn't say a word," Sun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not a single one."

Claude rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I see… I thought you liked her, Sun." A smirk tugged at his lips.

"No! My Lord, I would never dare." Sun straightened up, flustered. "After what I've done to her… having those kinds of feelings would be wrong."

Claude blinked, then laughed in surprise. "Huh. I didn't expect you to have that much of a moral compass."

"But… you have a point," he admitted, the amusement in his tone fading. "I'll speak with Claris myself when I have time. You don't need to worry about it anymore."

He stood from his seat, brushing off his coat. "Now, let's head back. The ball's not over yet."

***

The festivities resumed. Claude took to the dance floor, spinning Dalia with practiced ease, sharing dances with Morion and the others in his harem.

When the final song faded and the revelry died down, Claude finally excused himself, striding confidently through the halls until he reached the grand chamber William had prepared for him.

Tonight was a special night.

A room meant for a king…

And a proper place for an orgy.