Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 71: Good News!

Claude traced his index finger over the parchment, guiding Morion's eyes as he explained. "So, Morion, this is the alphabet humans usually use. It's different from ours, but you still need to learn it."

"One day, we might have to read secret documents from our enemies."

Morion sat on his lap, her small hands gripping the edge of the desk as she frowned in concentration.

Unlike the human alphabet, which was identical to what Claude had used back on Earth, the daemon script—Tinea Alphabet—was intricate, closer to kanji in complexity.

It was an absolute pain to learn, even for him. He and Theo had struggled with it as children.

Morion, on the other hand, had already mastered Tinea but had yet to grasp the human script.

With an exaggerated sigh, she slumped against Claude's chest. "Huff… This is tiring, Father! Why don't we fly to another small town or village and burn it to the ground again?"

She grinned, excitement gleaming in her eyes as she recalled their previous destruction.

Claude chuckled, amused by her enthusiasm. "Why don't you ask Llyold? If he agrees, I'll gladly do it with you."

He turned his head toward the table on his left, where Llyold was busy reviewing Ezra's proposal.

Llyold barely looked up as he cleared his throat. "You know I can't, Your Majesty."

Then, with a high tone, he turned to Morion, his voice shifting into something almost grandfatherly.

"I'm so sorry, Morion. Why don't you visit Xalvach Mansion once in a while? I'll give you as many sweets as you want."

But Morion didn't even spare him a glance, her focus entirely on Claude. Llyold's shoulders slumped slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

He flipped through a page before adding, "Some noble families are protesting because you cut their salaries."

Claude exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "They're lucky I haven't fired them outright." He shook his head in annoyance.

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If it were up to him, he would have removed half of them already. Their inefficiency was staggering, and most of their positions were unnecessary.

But thanks to Olvon and Rolvod Houses, Eldrich and Ranon had harshly opposed such a move, citing its potential consequences.

"It's strange hearing you actually listen to them, Your Majesty." William chimed in from Claude's right side, flipping through his own set of documents.

"Usually, you'd just deny them outright—or threaten them."

Claude shrugged. "Because, for once, they have a point."

He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desk. "If I fire them all at once, the palace and government staff will strike, and the whole system will be paralyzed. I hate that."

"We have too many things to change, too many preparations to make—for future wars and the common folk."

"We can't afford to halt everything because of a stupid strike."

Llyold smirked slightly. "Well, I hope you continue listening to them instead of just shutting them down."

Then, under his breath, he muttered, "It'd lessen my workload."

Claude didn't register Llyold's murmured complaint, his focus entirely on Morion as he continued guiding her through the human alphabet.

Then, suddenly—

[Ding!]

A familiar chime rang out, followed by Keira's voice, laced with amusement.

[You might forget about me, Claude, but I, for one, never forget about you!]

Claude frowned. "What the hell..."

[Congratulations!]

[You are going to be a father! Your mate, 'Dalia Easton,' is pregnant with your child!]

[Would you like to appraise the child inside Dalia?]

His breath hitched. The words barely sank in before his body reacted—he slammed a hand against the table, startling everyone in the room.

Morion, who had been comfortably sitting on his lap, was unceremoniously lifted and placed to the side.

Claude's lips curled into an uncontrollable grin, his chest tightening with something rare—unfiltered joy.

"What's wrong, Father?" Morion tilted her head, puzzled by his sudden outburst.

William and Llyold had already stopped working, their gazes fixed on him in concern.

Then, Claude burst out—"My concubine is pregnant!"

Llyold immediately shot up from his seat, eyes wide.

"My daughters are pregnant?!"

His expression was a mix of shock and anticipation, a broad smile creeping across his face.

Claude shook his head. "Of course not! It's my mother!" He exhaled deeply, his excitement barely contained. "I need to arrange something for her."

In daemon society, mating within the same bloodline wasn't taboo, nor was it forbidden. Unlike humans, their genetics prevented inbreeding complications—daemons were superior in that regard.

More importantly, witches, even when they were human, held a respected status in daemon society. Since there were only two ways to ensure the birth of a strong daemon heir—mating with another daemon or with a witch.

Thus, Claude's relationship with his mother was never considered strange. If anything, her pregnancy was something to be celebrated, especially when it was a king's child, soon to be their prince or princess!

—

Claude moved swiftly through the palace halls, his strides urgent. Before he could reach Dalia's chambers, a maid intercepted him.

"Ah, Your Majesty," she said, bowing slightly. "Lady Dalia isn't feeling well. She requested your presence."

Claude smirked. "I'm already on my way."

His mind raced as he neared the door. His heart pounded with anticipation, a rare feeling bubbling in his chest. He barely hesitated before pushing it open.

Inside, the doctor who had once treated Dalia when she was on the brink of death stood with a pleased expression, surrounded by a few maids.

The moment Claude entered, the doctor stepped forward, his face bright with enthusiasm.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty! Lady Dalia is pregnant!"

Claude gave a firm nod. "Thank you. How is she?"

"She's in excellent condition! Her transformation posed no issues either—everything is progressing smoothly!"

Claude dismissed the doctor and maids with a wave of his hand. "Leave us. I need a moment alone with her."

Once they left, he approached the bed, where Dalia lay fast asleep. Even in slumber, she looked the same—just as captivating as always and even when she turned into a daemon, there wasn't any clear change in her physique.

Yet, with his keen sight, he could see the darkened mana pool within her... and another, fainter presence nestled in her stomach.

His smile widened.

Gently, he ran his fingers along her cheek. At his touch, her eyes fluttered open, revealing those mesmerizing ocean-blue irises with their signature ring-like glow.

"Claude… you're finally here," she murmured, offering him a tired smile. She tried to sit up, but he pressed her back down.

"You don't need to move. Just rest."

She frowned. "Did something happen? Another illness?"

Claude chuckled. "No, you're perfectly fine, Mother."

He took her hand in his, his grip firm yet gentle.

"It's just that… you're pregnant."