Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

It was the first time Dalia had stepped outside the palace to see Elysium with her own eyes.

Claude had meant to take her much earlier, but shame had always held him back. The capital—and the condition of its common folk—had once been so poor, so far from what he envisioned, that he couldn't bear to show it to her. And so, he delayed.

But today, he finally decided it was time.

Soon, he would be too busy—entangled in strategies, administrative tasks, and war preparations. The future loomed dark, with a great war on the horizon and plagues ravaging the outside world.

Elysium had to be fortified. And before all that began, he wanted Dalia to see the city he ruled.

Curiously, the capital still didn't have a name. It had remained simply "the capital" for centuries, perhaps because it was the only inhabited land Elysium had to begin with.

To Claude's relief, the city was in better shape than he remembered. The people wore warm, decent robes, their faces no longer gaunt with hunger.

The market buzzed with life—stalls piled with food, handcrafted items, and other wares.

Even monsters and beasts were being sold in specialized pens, their prices haggled over like livestock.

It was something Claude had specifically instructed Ezra to implement: introducing monster meat into the local diet, just like in Cortinvar.

Judging by the market's enthusiasm, it had worked well. The people now had access to more affordable protein.

What surprised Claude most was the growing presence of horses and carriages. When he first arrived in Elysium, such things had been rare, almost nonexistent.

But now, the roads echoed with the steady clatter of hooves and wheels—a sign of the city slowly catching up with the world he was trying to shape.

The cold breeze nipped at their cheeks, but Dalia's excitement warmed the air between them. Wrapped in thick cloaks and wool scarves, she and Claude blended perfectly with the common folk.

No guards followed. No nobles bowed. It was just the two of them, walking side by side down the cobblestone streets like ordinary people.

Even Lyra wasn't with them—left in the care of her nanny for the day. It had taken Claude a long time to convince Dalia to come out like this.

She was always reluctant, worried about leaving Lyra even for a moment, wanting to cherish every second as their daughter grew at a startling pace.

Their baby, barely three months old, already looked like a one-year-old toddler. She could speak—haltingly, not fluently, but enough to form clear words.

She could run, too. And she had even begun chanting spells. It was unnatural how quickly she developed, and while Claude took pride in it, it frightened Dalia.

But today, her expression was different. Her eyes—vivid blue and full of wonder—sparkled as she took in the world around her like a child seeing it all for the first time.

Perhaps it really had been too long since she was able to walk freely like this, hand in hand with someone she loved.

"I want to try that," Dalia pointed, eyes sparkling at a stall selling skewered meat roasted over charcoal flames. "What is it?"

"Grilled gryffin tail. Or at least that's what the sign says," Claude replied with a smirk, already paying the vendor before she could change her mind.

Dalia bit into the skewer cautiously, then her eyes lit up. "It's spicy! And chewy!"

Claude took a bite himself and gave a nod of approval. "Not bad for monster meat. Ezra's doing well with market regulation."

"Don't talk like a king on our date," she teased, poking his side with the skewer. "You're just a mysterious handsome man spoiling me for today."

Claude grinned. "Fine. Then as your mysterious companion, I declare we get dessert."

A few stalls down, they found warm honeycakes drizzled with clover syrup and topped with candied nuts.

Dalia made a delighted noise with her first bite, licking a drop of syrup from her thumb.

"You have sugar on your cheek," Claude said casually, leaning down to kiss it away.

Dalia blinked, cheeks turning red. "You—! That's cheating!"

Claude chuckled as Dalia eagerly bought more desserts—one for herself and a few wrapped neatly to take home for Lyra.

Their stroll through the lively market brought them next to a small stall selling handcrafted hairpins. The pieces shimmered in the light, made of delicately shaped glass and etched with tiny floral details. Dalia's eyes sparkled as she picked up a beautiful one shaped like a cluster of blooming flowers.

"Wow... Lyra would look so beautiful wearing this," she murmured, holding it up against the light.

Claude leaned closer, watching the way her fingers handled the ornament. "She's beautiful in everything. And she's starting to resemble you more with each passing day."

It was true. Lyra's eyes were striking—crimson irises circled with radiant gold, a trait inherited from Dalia's rare bloodline. Her mana reserves were unparalleled among Claude's children, and even at her young age, she wielded it with remarkable precision.

"She'll be a powerful mage someday," he said softly.

Dalia glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "A mage? What if she wants to be a knight instead?"

Claude laughed, "Then she'll be the strongest knight in the kingdom. She can be anything she wants to be."

Dalia smiled in approval and paid for the hairpin, tucking it carefully into a pouch to give Lyra later.

They continued their leisurely walk, eventually finding an open bench facing a grand waterfall. A massive stone statue stood nearby, towering above the flowing water. Dalia's eyes widened as she studied the figure.

"Wait… Isn't that you, Claude?" she asked, squinting.

Claude glanced up, casually chewing on another skewer of monster meat. "Me? No. That's Donovan—the former King."

"Oh…" Dalia sighed in mild disappointment. "You should've made a statue of yourself."

"I did try," Claude admitted with a shrug. "Even considered building an entire temple in my honor. But Lloyd forbade it."

"Of course he did! You're not a god," she scoffed.

Claude smirked and leaned back on the bench. "I'm a god to some people."

Dalia rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. "I can't believe how narcissistic you are."

Claude laughed, unbothered, and passed her a warm skewer. "It's part of my charm."

Both of them laughed it off and continued their conversation. Her head rested gently on his shoulder, while his fingers laced tightly through hers, as if afraid to let go.

"I never asked you this before," Claude said quietly, his gaze fixed on the moving crowd ahead. "But... were you disappointed when I didn't choose you as queen?"

The topic had resurfaced recently. With Lilac nearing her due date, discussions about the queen's ascension had begun again—and this time, the choice seemed all but settled.

Dalia shook her head slowly. "I think… your love is enough for me. I don't need anything else."

She smiled at him, soft and serene. "You've always been good at reading people, Claude. So I know you understand I wouldn't fit the role of the queen—and I trust your judgment."

"You're right," he said, eyes drinking in her features. "You're too kind to be a queen."

And with that, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips, tender and warm.

As their lips parted, Dalia's face flushed a delicate pink. "Don't do that out in the open!" she whispered, glancing around. "What if someone sees?"

"Then let them," Claude replied with a grin. "Let them see how deeply I love you."

Before she could respond, he captured her lips again—this time deeper, hotter, his tongue brushing against her lips, silently asking for entrance.

She hesitated only a moment, then parted them, letting him in. The kiss grew messier, more desperate, their tongues dancing and exploring, their breath mingling, warm and sweet.

The sound of soft moans escaped between kisses, and her body trembled beneath his touch.

By the time they pulled apart, both were breathless. Her cheeks were burning, her lips glistening, and her eyes held that hazy, sultry glaze that drove him mad.

"Should we take this somewhere more private?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Seeing her nod, he grinned and, without another word, teleported them both back to his room.

Without waiting another second, Claude pushed her back against the wall. The small bag of desserts slipped from her hand, falling to the floor and forgotten as his fingers worked quickly, peeling away each piece of her simple clothing.

Their mouths stayed locked, hot and desperate—tongues clashing, breaths stolen, their passion awakened after months apart.

Claude's lips trailed down to her neck, sucking gently, then biting just enough to leave a mark. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders as the last layer of fabric dropped to the floor, both of them now bare.

"You have no idea how much I missed you..." he murmured against her skin.

"Waiting through your due date, and then another damn month for you to recover... I was losing my mind."

Dalia let out a breathless laugh, her fingers threading through his hair. "You're so impatient... But I'm here now. You can have me—however you want."

He looked up at her, eyes dark with hunger. "You really shouldn't say things like that... You don't know how dangerous it is to tempt me like this."

"And you don't know how long I've waited to be touched by you again," she whispered.