Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 52: Daemons Banquet

The banquet was already in full swing, the grand hall packed with daemons from every corner of society.

From the lowliest ranks to the Honorable Houses, they all came wearing their best, drinking and laughing as music played freely in the background.

The air was thick with the scent of wine and rich food, though no tables lined the room—just daemons standing, drinking, and chatting in small groups, moving as they pleased.

Unlike the strict, rule-heavy banquets of human nobility, this was more like a grand ball.

No assigned seating, no stiff formalities—just an open space for celebration.

The children had their own separate hall, leaving the adults to enjoy themselves without restraint.

But even with all the noise, all the movement, one thing stood out. The throne at the far end of the hall was still empty.

And everyone knew that the host always made his entrance last.

The moment the grand doors finally swung open, the room shifted. Conversations quieted, movements slowed, and all eyes turned to the entrance.

Then, like a silent command, the daemons stepped aside and bowed.

Claude entered at a leisurely pace, taking his time, letting their gazes linger. He never dressed like a proper king, and tonight was no different—black layered with deep red, his attire carrying intricate patterns of gold that shimmered subtly under the light.

Beside him, Dalia walked with a soft grace, her silver mermaid dress hugging her body perfectly.

A sheer black cape draped from her shoulders, connected at the neck like a loose necklace.

Her hair was styled into an elegant updo, small silver flowers woven in like scattered stars.

On his other side, Morion stood out with her gothic dress, the same one she always wore.

She had refused to change, and Claude hadn’t bothered to push her. If that was what she liked, so be it.

The three of them moved forward, slow but steady, cutting through the parted crowd. Only when Claude reached the throne did he sit, settling in with a casual ease.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice carrying over the hall, "the banquet has officially started. Eat, drink, do whatever you want."

The response was immediate. Cheers erupted, the music kicked back up, and the daemons resumed their revelry without hesitation.

Laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of wild movement filled the room once more.

Claude leaned back against his throne, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.

Now, the real fun could begin.

His eyes roamed over the crowd, scanning every figure, searching for the perfect additions to his harem.

He wasn’t interested in just anyone—he wanted women with wide hips and full chests, ideal for bearing strong children.

"Keira, pull up the status of every woman I pick and rate them based on family background and potential to give birth to S-rank offspring."

[Understood. Just select them, and I’ll handle the rest.]

One by one, translucent screens flickered into existence before him, revealing names, stats, and evaluations. Claude smirked.

"Not bad. But the power disparity is too damn high, especially among the commoners."

[That’s because daemon society expects women to focus on childbirth rather than combat. Keeping the race alive takes priority.]

[Most of them never learned to read or write, let alone control their mana. They’re actively prevented from doing so.]

[Only the Honorable Houses make sure their daughters undergo intense training. Their offspring are power symbols—pride of their bloodline.]

Claude frowned. ’That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard.’

Sure, he knew this world was similar to medieval Earth in some ways, but this? He had expected the daemon race to be more advanced, not stuck in outdated thinking.

’At this rate, I’ll be the one spearheading women’s rights. I need strong children.’

Keira had already explained how mana could be increased—through training, monster hunts, or other methods.

If he wanted his descendants to be powerful, their mothers needed to be strong too.

And finally, his search led him to two particularly interesting targets. The moment he saw their stats, his eyes narrowed.

—

[Name: Layla Xalvach]

[Title:]

[Head of the Dark Elysium Army]

[Great General Of Elysium]

[Daughters Of Xalvach House]

[Race: Daemon]

[Age: 28]

[Evolution: 3-Star]

[Bearing Potential: A-S Rank]

[Mana Pool: 378,500]

[ATK: 65,800 | AGI: 65,650 | DEF: 65,250 | STR: 65,580 | INT: 65,750 | STM: 65,450]

—

The other one is named Lilac with almost the same stat but higher in Intelligence but weaker in strength.

Her stats were incredible, and her name rang a bell. Claude rubbed his chin, sifting through his memories—until realization struck.

’Ah… she’s one of the key court members.’

[She wasn’t at the last court meeting. This is your chance to approach her and gain her favor!]

Claude scoffed. ’Me? A king? Lowering myself to approach her? She should be the one seeking me out.’

Even so, this was an opportunity. And if she wasn’t going to come to him first, he’d draw her in another way.

Claude stood up, brushing the creases from his robe before turning to Dalia. He extended a hand.

"Mother, would you dance with me?"

Dalia’s eyes widened. "M-Me?" She hesitated. "I’ve never danced before."

"That’s fine. Just follow my lead." His lips curled into a genuine smile.

After a brief pause, she finally placed her hand in his. A hush spread through the hall as the daemons instinctively stepped back, giving them space.

Dalia was so nervous that she stepped on his foot before the music even started.

Claude chuckled. "Relax. You’ll be fine."

She bit her lip. "What if I make a mistake? You’ll be mocked."

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"Hah! The last person who mocked me in court lost his head. You don’t have to worry, Mother. No one dares to disrespect you."

She nodded hesitantly as the music began. Just as he promised, Claude guided her with ease, his movements fluid, adjusting to her every misstep without complaint.

As he twirled her, he spoke. "Do you like it here?"

Dalia exhaled softly. "It’s better than the streets. Everyone has been kind, even if they keep their distance."

Claude smiled. "Good. Do you want anything? Jewelry? Dresses? Gold? Name it, and it’s yours."

She shook her head. "I only want your time. I know you’ll be busy from now on, so just… make time for me."

He stilled for a moment, staring into her deep blue eyes—eyes that shimmered like the sun on the ocean’s surface.

"You don’t have to ask. I’ll always have time for you."

With that, he lifted her effortlessly into the air, spinning her before lowering her back down. Dalia let out a soft, surprised laugh, her cheeks flushed, her smile radiant.

And then, without hesitation, Claude leaned in and kissed her—right in front of everyone.

The hall fell into stunned silence. Dalia’s entire body tensed, too flustered to react, but she didn’t pull away.

The message was clear. This was a declaration, a mark of possession, a warning to all that she was his.

As the dance ended, Claude finally released her.

But he still had business to attend to.

Turning back to the crowd, he set his sights on the women he had marked earlier.

One by one, he handed each of them a red rose—a silent command that they were to come to his chambers if summoned.

Five women, for now. He could always add more, but he’d need to adjust the harem budget.

After all, maintaining a large harem was expensive.

And then, the core event of the banquet arrived—the gift-giving.

One by one, nobles and commoners alike stepped forward to present their tributes to him.

Weapons, gold, rare beasts, fine silk—it was all predictable, and frankly, dull.

Claude stifled a yawn, barely paying attention, until finally, two women stepped forward.

The crowd parted as they approached, and even among all the lavishly dressed daemons, they stood out.

Beautiful, strong, and powerful.

Claude’s smirk returned. ’Ah… Layla and Lilac Xalvach. Let’s see what you’ve brought me.’