Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 88: The Church Close In

Claude laughed. "You mean funny? Do you like me now?"

Faced with such a bold question, Emmalise could only sigh, her eyes shifting away. "Well… you are kind of funny…"

But then, realizing what she had just admitted, her eyes widened. "Wait! That's not what we're talking about!"

She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to slap him for distracting her so easily.

"Just tell me how you're going to help me! And forget about marriage!" she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alright, alright, calm down," Claude chuckled, clearly amused. "It's simple. I want you to hold off the Church for as long as possible. In return, I'll do anything for you."

Emmalise narrowed her eyes. "You want me to fight them? You do realize how persistent they are, don't you? They're like an unstoppable force. There's no way I can hold them back forever."

"Sooner or later, they'll find a way into Malgrave Mountain," she continued, voice firm. "And when they do, both you and my kingdom will be wiped out."

Claude tilted his head, his smirk unwavering. "Are you afraid of them?"

Emmalise stiffened.

"I recall hearing somewhere that your father won the war against them," he mused.

"Yet here you are, his daughter—the Queen of Cortinvar, ruler of the eternal snow—hesitating. Afraid."

Her hands curled into fists.

She was afraid.

That war had brought nothing but suffering. If another one broke out, it would be her people who paid the price.

"You know it's inevitable," Claude said, his voice turning cold. "The only difference is who you'll be fighting. Will it be me? Or will it be them?"

She bit her lip, uncertainty gnawing at her. No matter how she looked at it, her kingdom was caught in the middle.

If Elysium truly lay within Malgrave Mountain, then Cortinvar would become the perfect battleground.

Claude watched her closely, then smirked. "I can help you with your brother, if you'd like."

Emmalise's head snapped up. "What?"

"Ever considered keeping a spy on him?" His tone was light, but his words cut deep.

"If the Church can't get through you, they will look for another way. And what better way than putting him on the throne?"

Her breath hitched.

It was possible.

Her brother always seemed innocent—like he had no interest in power. But the truth was, no one could ever truly know what lay in another's heart.

Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress.

"I'll think about it," she said at last, her voice steady. "I can't give you an answer right away."

Claude studied her for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough. You have one week."

He rose to his feet, his usual smirk returning. "Then, I'll come back to hear your answer. Or, perhaps… to pick you up if you decide to marry me?"

"Hah! Keep dreaming!" she snapped, glaring.

Claude only laughed. He walked toward the window, opened it, and, with a final playful wave, leaped out.

Emmalise gasped and rushed forward just in time to see him descending—jumping effortlessly from window to window before landing lightly on the ground below.

He then turned around to just wave at her as he run toward the gate.

Her fingers gripped the windowsill as she stared in disbelief.

"He really didn't use magic to get in here?" she murmured, feeling strangely unsettled.

She frowned, crossing her arms.

"What a strange man."

***

In the dimly lit room, two figures in black robes sat in tense silence. Though they hadn't spoken yet, their stiff postures, the way their hands clenched into fists, and the heavy sighs they let out made it clear—the situation was dire.

"What do we do?" one of them finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The witch hunts are getting worse every day. We can't keep hiding forever!"

Her breath trembled as fear seeped into her tone.

"Calm down, Anya!" the other woman hissed. "If you panic, we'll be found even faster!"

Her movements caused the hood of her robe to slip, revealing long golden hair and piercing violet eyes.

"How can I calm down, Aubree? After what happened to our sisters… I just can't!"

Anya's voice cracked, and before she could hold back, tears began to spill down her cheeks.

Aubree reached out, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

"We'll get through this," she murmured. "We have to."

But Anya suddenly pulled away, desperation flashing in her tear-streaked eyes. "Please… just put the curse on me! Bound of Heart!"

Aubree froze, her grip on Anya's hands tightening.

"If I do that, who will be left to help me cast it on the others?" Her violet eyes darkened. "Do you really want to leave me alone?"

She understood Anya's fear—the trauma, the constant anxiety of being hunted down. But someone had to step up.

Someone had to be strong enough to keep going, to continue sealing away their sisters' powers… to continue the sacrifice.

Before Aubree could say more, a sudden commotion erupted outside.

Panic-stricken voices screamed—

"They're here! The witches are here!"

Aubree and Anya exchanged a horrified glance, their faces paling.

The sound of pounding fists struck the door, rattling the protective barrier they had placed around the room. It wouldn't hold for long.

"We have to separate!" Aubree whispered urgently. "We'll meet again in Ascot Town. But first, I need to find my daughter!"

Anya hesitated for a split second, but then she gave a determined nod.

The two of them began chanting in unison. A glowing magic circle flared beneath their feet, and in the next instant, their bodies vanished into thin air—just as the door burst open.

A young man in a white robe clicked his tongue in irritation as he stepped inside. His expression twisted into one of pure annoyance.

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"Tch. They escaped again. What a pain."

His eyes swept over the now-empty room before barking an order. "Call the clerics! Track their mana traces—I don't care what it takes. They must still be somewhere in this town!"

"Yes, Priest Rhys!" his subordinates answered in unison, immediately setting to work.

Meanwhile—

Aubree stumbled as she reappeared inside the small room she had rented, her heart hammering in her chest.

But the moment she steadied herself, dread pooled in her stomach.

Her daughter, she wasn't there.

Panic surged through her veins. They had to leave now before the Church found their tracks!

Aubree frantically scanned the room. "Aurelia… where are you?" she whispered under her breath, fearful that even the slightest sound would attract suspicion.

She forced herself to move quickly, shoving their belongings into a bag, ready to flee. But then, the door suddenly swung open.