Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 111: The Cursed Daemon

After spending a month outside Elysium—seizing ten small villages, establishing outposts, mapping mineral veins, and identifying fertile farmland—Claude finally decided it was time to return.

The newly claimed region within Hyparia would be called Deepstone Quarry, and he had already chosen Henrich to act as its landlord, responsible for developing the territory.

But before leaving, Claude had one last task. He needed another servant to guard the crystal mana cave.

He had already assigned Sun to protect it, but with Claude having discovered two such caves, it was unreasonable to expect Sun to hold both positions alone—especially since Sun protect the other cave with his clone.

As Keira had warned, monsters continued appearing around the caves, likely drawn by the raw mana.

Though most were only at the one to two-star evolution stage, they still posed a real threat to Sun, who had yet to reach three-star evolution himself.

Vulture wasn't an option either. His skillset made him invaluable for reconnaissance and intel gathering.

Claude leaned back in his chair, surrounded by maps and reports, fingers steepled as he considered the problem.

'I need something truly intimidating. Something strong enough that no cacodemon, beast, or creature dares approach those caves.'

He already had plans to mine the outer crystal veins while reserving the deeper chamber for meditation and mana absorption.

'If this works… Elysium's wealth will explode. The mage towers, lords, and the Church can't mine them thanks to the monsters. But I can.'

In his mind, he could already see the gold raining down like a storm of coins. His eyes practically gleamed.

The flap of his tent suddenly swung open.

Sun stumbled in, exhausted and barely standing. Vulture followed behind with his usual emotionless expression, giving a respectful bow.

"My Lord, we have come to fulfill your summons," Vulture said.

Claude's eyes sharpened. "Good. Let's get to the point—did you find the perfect cacodemon to guard the caves?"

Vulture gave a slow nod. "I did. But… the creature is difficult to communicate with."

Claude narrowed his gaze. "How so? Any daemon that's evolved to three stars should be capable of speech."

"He can speak. But he's in so much pain he doesn't respond to logic or commands," Vulture said. "He ignores everything around him."

Claude tapped his fingers against the table, the rhythm steady and thoughtful. "Explain."

"The villagers nearby call him a cursed daemon. They say he was struck down by a saint over three hundred years ago."

"The saint's sword still pierces his chest… keeping him trapped between life and death, tormented by the souls of those he once killed."

"His name is Osias, once a general under Donovan," Vulture added.

Claude's brow arched slightly. "So, I just have to remove the sword and release him from the curse?"

Vulture blinked. "You knew?"

Claude smirked. "It's a cliché story. Cursed warriors, trapped spirits, sacred weapons… it's practically a bedtime tale."

He then stood up and strode toward them. "Well, we don't have many options. Let's check his condition. I'll decide after that."

Understanding his intention, Vulture activated his teleportation spell.

In a blink, they vanished—reappearing in a vast, desolate landscape shrouded in pitch black.

The ground beneath their feet, the twisted trees around them, even the sky above—all swallowed in darkness.

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At the center of it all stood a towering figure with his back turned. A giant clad in rusted, black armor.

His hulking, muscular frame loomed over the land, but his body was in decay. Patches of his grey, rotten flesh were missing, revealing bone underneath.

And impaled through the center of his torso was a massive sword—gleaming with golden light, stark against the shadows.

Claude hovered slightly off the ground, eyes narrowing.

"It looks like a zombie…"

He drifted closer to the still figure, cautiously observing. Despite the noise, the giant didn't move. Claude called out. Then again—louder.

Nothing.

"He's in so much pain, he can't even feel the outside world anymore, My Lord," Vulture remarked from behind.

Claude studied the sword. "Any idea how to pull that thing out?"

"The villagers say others tried… and were killed when Osias stirred," Vulture replied. "It can be pulled, but it's like poking a bear in the eye. A cursed bear."

Claude smirked, cracking his neck. "Got it. You two distract him. I'll handle the sword."

Without waiting for confirmation, he shot into the sky. His hand extended toward the golden blade.

But before his fingers could even graze it, Osias moved.

With a deafening roar, the giant turned, his decayed arm swinging wide in a blur of black steel and fury—aiming to crush Claude like a fly.

But Claude was faster, darting back in time, the wind of the blow tearing through the darkness.

Vulture didn't waste a second. His body shifted, growing, bones stretching as he transformed into his colossal form—now towering even over Osias.

At the same time, the Sun split into multiple clones, each leaping like lightning. They latched onto Osias's limbs, their fangs digging in as bolts of electricity surged through the monster's decaying flesh.

Osias screamed—a raw, guttural howl that rattled the earth itself.

Claude hovered above it all, watching the chaos unfold with mild amusement.

"Should I just let them finish the job?" he murmured, tilting his head.

Sometimes, even he forgot just how powerful his servants truly were.

Vulture let out a piercing screech, his enormous wings spreading wide as he lunged at Osias with claws wreathed in dark fire.

The monstrous vulture's talons raked across the giant's chest, sending bursts of black flames through the cracks in Osias's ancient armor.

The giant staggered, groaning, and raised his arm to strike—but Sun was already there.

With a flash, Sun's clones erupted around him, surrounding the titan in as they leapt onto Osias's limbs, sinking electrified fangs into his flesh.

Claude seized the opening. He soared forward, dodging a wide, clumsy swipe as he ascended toward the glowing blade embedded in Osias's chest as he grabbed it, tried to pull that sword.

Then it happened.

The earth beneath them convulsed violently. Cracks split across the field like spiderwebs, and a deep rumble echoed from below. Claude froze mid-pull, looking down.

The ground turned into black liquid.

A guttural wail rose from the depths, followed by the blood-curdling shrieks of countless souls.

Osias threw his head back and roared. His body jerked violently, nearly throwing Vulture off.

From the liquefied earth, ghostly, twisted hands erupted, dozens, and hundreds.

They surged toward Vulture and Sun trying to drag them into the abyss below.

Sun clicked his tongue as he jumped back, lightning crackling at his feet.

Vulture flapped his massive wings, struggling to stay aloft as the hands latched onto his talons.

They were trapped in those black sticky liquid as their body slowly being dragged bellow.

Claude zipped higher into the air, dodging the groping hands that stretched for him like starving beasts.

Sun, struggling against the grip of three writhing arms, sparked his entire body in a burst of electricity, vaporizing the cursed limbs.

With a grunt, he shifted into his humanoid form and shot through the air toward Claude.

Vulture, too large to escape cleanly, let out a thunderous screech before rapidly shrinking, wings tucking tight as he spiraled upward.

The spectral hands grasped at empty space as he narrowly evaded them.

The three hovered above the cursed field, now a writhing sea of black liquid and reaching hands. It pulsed and groaned as if alive, the souls beneath wailing in endless torment.

Claude clicked his tongue, arms crossed. "That damned soul! What a pain in the ass."

Vulture glanced at him, "Should we cover you while you pull the sword?"

Claude raised an eyebrow, considering it. "Not bad. Worth a shot."

Without waiting further, he dove toward the sword once more. Vulture and Sun flew beside him, forming a triangle formation.

Vulture unleashed a barrage of dark fireballs, each explosion incinerating the arms before they could rise too high.

Sun darted between the gaps, claws glowing with lightning as he shredded the cursed limbs before they touched Claude.

Claude gritted his teeth as he reached the sword again. He grabbed the hilt and pulled with all his strength.

The divine steel resisted him, searing his hands with holy light. Smoke hissed off his fingers as the sword budged only slightly.

"Ah, fuck! This damned sword is too deep and heavy!" he cursed, veins bulging in his arms as he struggled.

But then, Osias moved.

The hulking daemon twisted violently, his entire body spinning with unnatural speed.

Claude was flung from the sword like a ragdoll, tumbling midair before catching himself with a sharp burst of wind magic.

"That damned thing's too far gone. Can't even tell help from harm," he growled.

Before they could regroup, the ground wailed again—louder, angrier. A ghostly fog surged upward, and from the liquid black rose floating, translucent figures.

Ghouls, their hollow eyes glowing faintly blue, drifted into the sky—one, then dozens. Their skeletal mouths opened in a chorus of moaning pain.

"Spectral-type monsters," Vulture warned. "Blades and arrows won't work—magic only!"

The three immediately split apart, magic flaring as ghostly claws lunged for them.

Claude hurled a flurry of dark lances, Vulture cloaked himself in burning shadow, and Sun shot bursts of lightning into the swarm.

The air filled with screams as the spectrals darted like vipers, and a true battle began.