Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

The wind cracked around them as Claude took a sharp turn mid-air, avoiding another spectral claw.

The screeching ghosts zipped through the air, moaning with the voices of those long dead. Their faces twisted in pain, their mouths frozen open in endless cries.

"Sun, you go after the spectrals! Vulture, take the sword!" Claude barked, voice sharp like a blade.

"I'll hold Osias down until that damned giant can't even twitch!"

He'd had enough of restraint and gentleness. Now was the time to crush.

"Use all your power! Don't hold back—even if you have to kill him!"

Sun turned into a blur of motion, electricity crackling across his limbs as he dashed toward the spectral, leaving trails of lightning behind.

The clone copies he summoned moved like lightning, curling through the air and shocking the ghostly figures into ash.

Their cries didn't stop—just faded into a distance, like old echoes bouncing off walls.

"But, Your Majesty," Vulture shouted as he flapped his large wings, "if we kill him, who's guarding the caves?"

Claude didn't even glance back. "I don't have time for that bullshit! That giant pissed me off."

"If I can't use him as a servant, then I'll use him as fuel! His core alone is worth enough to flood my entire mana pool!"

Vulture paused in mid-air, dodging a spectral swipe, then finally flapped once with force. His black wings scattered a hailstorm of burning feathers—each one ignited with black fire.

They flew like razors, slicing through the spectral. The moment they made contact, the ghostly monsters vanished into nothingness, leaving only drifting ash.

Below, Osias roared again, the sword in his chest glowing brighter. His massive form twitched and thrashed.

Even crippled by the holy blade, his strength hadn't waned. His arm swung upward, nearly clipping Claude from the sky.

"Tch, what a pain... Fighting strong but mindless things is annoying."

Claude twisted his body sideways, flames gathering at his fingertips. With a flick, he shot downward—sword drawn, as the fire burning on it.

The sky behind him burned black as a massive fireball formed and crashed into Osias's back.

The impact didn't kill him, but it staggered the giant a the fire turned into nothing, burning his armor as he cried louder.

"Hold him!" Claude shouted, not wasting a second.

His black-flame blade ignited even brighter as he charged again, this time moving faster, lower, aiming right for the cursed titan's chest.

Osias tried to swat him away, but Vulture dove in and turned to his true size slamming into Osias's arm.

His clawed hands grabbed the rotting flesh and twisted, throwing Osias off balance.

Vulture also covered his body with black fire, making all the liquid ground couldn't pull him, as their hands would turn into ash the moment they touched his body.

"Do it now!" Vulture roared.

Claude didn't hesitate. He brought his black-flame sword around and stabbed it straight into Osias's left knee. The cursed metal pierced flesh and bone.

Osias shrieked—his voice so loud it shook the trees and cracked the sky—but he dropped to one knee, his entire body trembling.

The flaming blade had stuck deep, as he flowed his mana inside it, it got bigger and bigger, making Osias roar even louder in pain.

Claude's eyes flicked upward. "Sun!" he shouted, his voice snapping like lightning.

High above, Sun finished electrocuting another spectral. He turned into a bolt of purple light and crashed straight onto Osias's shoulder, clones following in sequence.

One after another, they sunk their claws into the giant's neck and shoulders, sparking the air with violent bursts of magic.

Osias tried to move, but his body buckled under the barrage. Every time he twitched, lightning danced through his muscles.

Claude didn't stop—he pulled his sword free from Osias's knee and stabbed again into the right side.

With two blades—one holy and one cursed—Osias could barely lift his arms.

His mouth opened again, roaring out a wave of agony, but this time it faded too quickly.

It wasn't the powerful scream from before—it was the echo of it like a monster slowly realizing it was losing.

"Not give up yet, huh? I will make sure to make you can't move again as I pull that damned sword!"

He raised his hand once more and summoned another weapon from thin air—his second black-fire sword.

Vulture caught one of Osias's wrists, his hands shifting into massive talons as he forced the arm down with raw strength, and with that, Claude thrust the giant arm with his other swords as it turned bigger and restrained Osias completely.

"AARRGGGHHHH!!!" Osias tried to resist, but Vulture roared and shoved with everything he had.

Claude floated toward the sword in Osias's chest again.

No more hesitation.

He reached out. The moment his fingers touched the hilt, the holy aura lashed out, searing his flesh, but he didn't flinch.

The burning crawled up his arm, veins glowing, smoke rising from his fingertips.

"Damn, just cooperate won't you?" he muttered, his grip tightening.

Sun and his clones kept the shoulders pinned, electricity crackling so hard it lit the entire dark sky.

The spectral scream even louder too, flying around them but being managed by Sun's clones and Vulture who keep shooting them with his feathers.

All of them tried so hard not to kill Osias as they would be a useful servant!

Osias began shaking violently—his breath rapid, ragged, shallow.

Claude pulled. The sword moved, inch by inch.

"AARRGHH!!! AHHH!!!"

But Osias screamed like it was being torn in half, and suddenly the entire ground trembled again. The black terrain rippled like water, turning into a writhing liquid.

Countless hands burst out, this time longer, angrier—screaming with the voices of every soul trapped within Osias.

The abyss had awakened.

"Shit!" Vulture shouted, flying up just in time as the hands surged for him.

This time, his fire couldn't hold the hands anymore. Sun leaped back, still airborne, barely avoiding a hand that almost dragged him by the ankle.

Claude remained.

He looked down at the hands reaching for him—twisting, shrieking, grasping—and snarled.

"Not this time."

He dug his heels into the air using his flight magic, gripping the sword tighter.

The runes on his blade blazed. His black flames keep holding Osias from his feet. His arm burned, but he grinned.

"Hahaha, this fucking holy sword! I will crush it into pieces!"

Then, with a roar, he yanked the sword upward.

Osias's scream shook the sky, and the liquid ground below exploded in waves of shadow and pain.

The giant began to thrash again, his body falling back, limbs twitching, and shaking

Claude was thrown back mid-air, the sword flying out of his grip.

But the weapon was out.

The abyss hands began to retreat. The spectral shrieked one final time and shattered into glittering fragments of mana.

Claude hovered in the air, gasping. His hand was burnt, smoking.

Vulture and Sun regrouped beside him, staring down at Osias's unmoving body.

"Is he dead?" Sun asked, electricity flickering around his shoulders.

"No…" Claude muttered, eyes locked on the body. "But he will wake up… different."

The sword that had cursed him for three hundred years now hovered mid-air as it shrank into a normal-sized sword, no longer burning with holy light.

Claude reached for it again, it didn't resist as he took it with him.

Osias's massive body, once rotting and bloated with corruption, had changed. His decayed flesh had vanished.

Yet his skin remained a lifeless grey, like an undead warrior preserved through time.

The blackened ground that had once screamed with souls was now still. The twisted sky softened to a gentle blue, and the trees returned to their natural green.

It was like watching a black-and-white world shift into color for the first time—quiet, magical, and strangely peaceful.

Then, Osias fluttered his eyes open.

For the first time in over three hundred years, he looked upon the clear sky. A soft breath escaped his lips as if the weight of centuries had lifted.

When he sat up, his golden eyes immediately locked with Claude's.

His expression shifted, and the next moment, he stood, only to kneel before Claude with reverence.

Despite his towering height of over three and a half meters, he lowered himself until his head was level with Claude's.

"My Liege," Osias spoke, voice low and solemn, "I beg forgiveness for my insolence. I have committed great sins… and failed in the Battle of Sinclair. Please—take my head as penance!"

Claude raised an eyebrow at the dramatic plea. "Osias… I'm not Donovan," he said plainly. "But I am the king of Elysium—his chosen descendant."

Osias slowly lifted his head, sorrow etched into every line of his face. "Then… we lost, My Liege?"

"Back then, yes. But not anymore." Claude smirked faintly.

"Now, we win. Become my servant, Osias. Give your loyalty to me, and me alone. We'll drown this world in darkness—and crush the armies of light underfoot."

Without hesitation, Osias bowed even lower. "Yes, My Liege. My body and soul are yours."

Satisfied, Claude stepped forward. He bit into his finger and let his blood drip down. Osias accepted it without question.

Now that he was no longer a daemon but a full-fledged undead, Claude's blood served as a pact.

The moment Osias touched the blood and placed his hand upon the sword, the curse shifted. The divine punishment laid upon him by the saint was now his reward.

All the souls he had once slaughtered—those that had tormented him for centuries—were now under his control.

With that, Claude assigned him a role: Osias would become the guardian of one of the caves.

As for the cursed holy sword, it would be sealed in a second cave. The very souls that had cursed him would now protect it and be given a task to kill all the monsters wandering inside the cave.

Their mission was complete, and the three turned toward the horizon.

Claude smirked to himself as the wind swept through his cloak. The sky was clear. The path was open.

It was time to return to Elysium.