Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 23: Cortinvar

It was almost Claude's birthday, and under normal circumstances, the weather would have been warm and sunny, the kind of summer day perfect for celebrations.

But normal circumstances had left Claude's life a long time ago.

Instead of basking in the sun, Claude found himself shivering in the frigid air of the Kingdom of Cortinvar, a land where winter reigned supreme.

The journey here had taken nearly two years, starting from the fertile, forested lands of Inochyreth—Claude's birthplace—and ending in this icy, mountainous realm.

Cortinvar was the highest kingdom in the world, its peaks scraping the heavens and its valleys blanketed in perpetual snow.

Even on its warmest days, the cold bit through layers of clothing, forcing Claude and his companions to bundle up in thick robes just to keep from freezing.

"My Lord," Shawn began, his voice nasal from a lingering cold.

He sneezed loudly before continuing, "Once we reach the capital, we'll have to abandon the carriage. The Elysium lies beyond Malgrave Mountain."

Claude raised an eyebrow, glancing at the daemon. "Huh. So even Daemon can catch colds, huh?"

Shawn sniffed, looking mildly offended. "Well, Lord Theo said once we enter the Elysium, we'll be invincible. No more sickness, no more weakness."

His tone was impatient, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. The Elysium wasn't just a destination for him—it was home.

"Theo, huh?" Claude murmured.

It had been almost two years since he'd last heard it. He glanced at Dalia, who was curled up on the seat across from him, fast asleep despite the carriage's jolting movements.

Claude marveled at his mother's ability to sleep anywhere, even in the most uncomfortable conditions.

This carriage, their latest mode of transportation, was by far the worst they'd endured.

'That cheap, fat bastard,' Claude thought, his irritation flaring as he recalled the last noble they'd dealt with—a man named August, who called himself a count but had the manners of a street vendor.

August had handed them this rickety carriage with a smug grin, as if he were doing them a favor.

August was different, he didn't has any respect toward him at all.

'Talking about respect. I don't even know why half these people are so polite to me,' Claude mused, his breath fogging the window as he peered outside.

'Theo must've been someone really important.'

The journey to Cortinvar's capital, Haven, had been grueling. The roads were steep and slippery, the carriage lurching dangerously with every turn.

But as they finally approached the city, Claude's mood lifted slightly.

Haven was a fortress of iron, its towering walls and spires gleaming dully under the overcast sky.

The city looked imposing, even gloomy, but there was a strange beauty to its industrial grandeur.

"We don't have to worry about the Church here," Shawn explained, his voice tinged with relief.

"Cortinvar follows the Materia religion. They despise the Everbright Church."

"Good," Claude muttered, leaning back in his seat.

"Finally, a place where I don't have to curse every time I see a damn church."

Shawn perked up, his earlier grumpiness fading. "Oh, and they're famous for their hot springs! Once we're settled, you have to try them."

As they passed through the city gates, Claude's initial impressions of Haven shifted.

Despite the cold, the city was alive with energy. The streets were lined with towering iron buildings, their chimneys belching smoke into the sky.

Unlike the quaint villages Claude had passed through, Haven felt modern and bustling, its people thriving in the harsh environment.

The streets were crowded with vendors hawking their wares, the air filled with the scent of sizzling meat and the sound of laughter.

Strange, exotic dishes made from local monsters tempted Claude's curiosity, and the lively atmosphere was a stark contrast to the bleak landscape outside the city walls.

"Huh. It's... lively," Claude remarked, his eyes darting from one attraction to another.

Shawn grinned, clearly proud of his knowledge. "Of course! Cortinvar is the world's largest producer of iron and rare minerals. They're one of the richest kingdoms out there."

Claude nodded absently, his attention already drifting toward the food stalls and the promise of a warm meal.

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For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself a small smile.

No Church. No witch hunts. Just a city full of life and opportunity.

Maybe, just maybe, things were finally looking up.

After securing their lodging, Claude, as usual, ordered Shawn to handle the shopping for necessities—especially since they'd be spending extended time in the mountains and forests without the comfort of a carriage.

Meanwhile, he and his mother set out to shop for something else—new robes and clothes.

Dalia had initially refused, hesitant as always, but Claude insisted.

He reassured her that the Everbright Church's influence had yet to reach this place.

Their wanted posters were nowhere in sight, and there hadn't been a single witch hunt reported in this kingdom.

Eventually, she relented.

For the first time in a long while, Dalia walked freely among the crowd, without the constant fear of being recognized and persecuted.

The people here were too occupied with their own business, allowing her to move without suspicion.

After finishing their shopping, they settled into a bustling restaurant, eager to enjoy a rare moment of peace.

Claude took a sip of wine, savoring its taste before asking, "How do you like the food, Mother?"

Dalia took another bite, chewing thoughtfully before answering, "The texture is... different. This is my first time eating beast meat."

Despite her words, the delight in her eyes was unmistakable.

Claude chuckled. "It suits you."

Dalia hummed in response, glancing around the lively restaurant. "This kingdom is quite nice, isn't it? It's lively, and the people are well-dressed."

Claude nodded in agreement. The wealth of a kingdom could often be measured by the appearance of its people.

If the citizens could afford fine clothing, it meant they were well-fed and their basic needs were met.

It was a sign of prosperity.

Just as he was about to continue the conversation, a nearby table caught his attention. The voices were hushed but tense, laced with irritation.

"Did you hear? One of the Saints from Photenosia is coming to visit this town soon."

"You're joking. What the hell is the king doing? Why isn't he stopping them?!"

"Right?! Are they planning to spread their damn missionary work again?"

A loud thud echoed through the room as one of them slammed the table. "I won't let that happen!"

Claude's fingers twitched around his wine glass, his focus momentarily drifting.

A voice brought him back.

"What were you about to say, Claude?" Dalia asked, tilting her head. "Why stop halfway?"

He blinked, forcing himself to relax before rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, sorry, Mother. Got distracted for a moment."

He cleared his throat, shifting the topic. "I was saying—why don't we try the hot springs? Shawn mentioned that this capital is famous for them."

Dalia clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up. "Oh! A nice bath after shopping sounds perfect!"

Claude smiled at her excitement, but his mind remained elsewhere.

Even as they finished their meal, his thoughts kept circling back to that conversation.

'Damn it... why does this always happen?'

His jaw tightened as his grip on the wine glass turned rigid.

'This time, I need to be prepared. If possible... I'll kill that damned Saint myself.'