Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

Lora awoke slowly, her lashes fluttering in the haze of golden morning. Her vision blurred, chest tight—until she realized there was no pain.

Her bruises were gone. She widened her eyes in confusion.

The blood crusting her skin had vanished, and her breathing no longer labored. She blinked down at her arms, her hands, at the flesh that should've been torn. But it was whole.

Sitting at her side, hunched over with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, was Marienne.

"You're okay…" the little girl whispered, voice cracking. "You came back, mama…"

Lora sat up with a sharp breath and cupped her daughter's face. "What happened?" she asked, frantic. "How—how am I…?"

Marienne didn't know how to answer. "I… I just prayed. And the light came out of me. It—it healed you."

For a long time, Lora only stared at Marienne's small, pale hands, at her own unbroken skin. It felt like waking from a nightmare into a dream she didn't deserve.

If Madam knew this, Marienne would end up in a fate worse than her.

"You must never tell anyone," Lora said quickly, fear suddenly clenching her voice. "Not a word, Marienne. Ever. Do you understand?"

Marienne blinked, startled. "But… I helped you, mama. And this is my miracle! I've been chosen by Goddess!" she said, her voice trembled, her expression was confused.

"Doesn't this mean we need to celebrate it? So why are you making that kind of expression? Is it bad?"

"It's not like that darling, of course, you are my special girl, even the goddess gives you a blessing," Lora muttered, drawing the girl close.

"But, there are things in this world worse than pain. If they find out—if the madam finds out—you'll never be free."

But secrets, no matter how small, never stayed buried in the red district. Especially not miracles.

Marienne was a sweet girl, one time she found a wounded bird on the street and brought it to the narrow alley.

However still, she could be as careful as she want, people might see and when they see, they know how important that information was.

A week later, Madam Vella stood at the brothel door, her painted lips curled into a smug smile. Two men flanked her.

"I heard something strange," Madam Vella drawled, snapping her fan open. "About a little girl who healed a wounded bird on the street."

Lora stepped forward, arms outstretched. "You might be mistaken, Madam! Marienne doesn't have that kind of power! She is just a child!"

"Nah, I believe in my information more than you that tried to escape." Vella ignored her. "And I don't care if she's a babe in swaddling cloth. If she can heal, she works. Simple as that."

"She's not your tool!" Lora shouted, she would never let her daughter being used like this. Not someone as cruel as Madam Vella.

Vella's smile disappeared. "Lora, don't you remember that you owe me? You broke the contract when you tried to run. That child? She's just repayment."

"And if both of you decline my kind request, it's fine, I don't mind." her cruel grin appeared again, "But you need to pay with this little girl's body."

Vella grabbed Marienne's beautiful long hair and felt the texture in her hand, "She is beautiful, an old noble would pay high for her first experience."

Lora's eyes looked terrified as she protected her child behind her. Marienne could only stand there, didn't understand what happened but she knew something bad would happen.

Lora bit her lips, she knew Madam Vella never played around and was always serious with her threats. So she slowly nodded.

Then, two men grabbed Marienne roughly by the arms. She cried out, reaching for her mother.

"Mom! Mommy! Don't let them take me, please!"

"It's fine Marienne! It's alright, don't be scared baby!"

Lora tried to calm her daughter with tears streaming down on her face as Madam Vella closed the door shut, leaving her alone in this dark room.

And so it began.

Every day, girls would line up outside Madam Vella's room, bleeding, broken, or burned. Marienne would sit cross-legged on a rug, her tiny palms glowing gold as she pressed them to wounds.

Then their cuts sealed, bruises faded, and broken fingers clicked back into place. It was like a miracle as her healing power could do all of that in only seconds.

But her power had limits. She could close flesh, but not cure sickness. She could dispel darkness, but not despair. And no matter how hard she prayed, she couldn't change the way the girls looked at her.

They hated her.

"She's the reason I have to work again tomorrow."

"My ribs were supposed to get me two days of rest."

"She's a freak. Not even ten and already in the business."

They whispered behind her back. Some did worse.

Once, someone slipped broken glass into her straw mat. Another time, a girl tried to shove her down the stairs. Madam Vella pretended not to notice.

"She's tough," she'd say, puffing on her pipe. "Miracle girls don't die easy."

Lora tried to protect her, but every time she spoke out, Madam Vella reminded her whose floor they slept on. "You want her eating from the gutter again? Be grateful I let you both stay."

Marienne never told her mother everything. She smiled and said she was fine, even when her hands wouldn't stop shaking or when she cried silently into her pillow at night.

Each healing took a piece of her.

Each girl she helped cursed her under their breath, and each man who passed through the brothel looked at her a little too long.

Her prayers turned from hope into pleas.

"Please, let me disappear."

"Please, take me somewhere else."

But no answer came. The golden light stayed inside her, obedient but hollow.

She couldnt leave this hell... And her mind kept believing that she would end up like her mother. Trapped in this place forever without any salvation and it scared her more than anything.

***

A couple of years passed and something weird suddenly happened.

The first to fall was one of the older girls, Nira—a sharp-tongued woman who once tried to smother Marienne with a pillow.

She had collapsed in the hallway with blood trailing from her mouth and eyes gone glassy. By nightfall, three more followed. Then more and more died in mysterious sickness.

The Velvet Dawn brothel, once filled with perfume and clinking glasses, now echoed only with coughs, vomit, and the sound of shuffling feet. The air turned fetid. Every breath felt heavy.

They called it a plague. But Marienne knew better.

This wasn't an ordinary sickness. She felt it crawling under her skin when she entered a room. It was cold, dark, and angry—like something vile had slithered into their walls.

She tried to heal them. Again and again.

But the golden light in her hands flickered, then died.

Nothing worked.

Her touch couldn't seal the blackened veins or the bleeding gums. She couldn't stop the shaking or the fever. Her power sputtered against it like a candle against a storm.

"You're useless!" one of the girls screamed at her, delirious from the sickness. "You're not blessed—you're cursed!"

Some blamed her, others begged her, and some even accused her of being the one who caused the plague. They were all cruel words and Marienne could only swallow their hatred that kept eating her alive.

And when Madam Vella's own skin started to crack and darken, she dragged Marienne into the basement and chained her to the pipes.

"You did this," the madam hissed, her face sunken and leaking bile. "You cursed us the day you were born. Always knew there was something wrong with you."

"You will stay here for the rest of your life! Maybe when you are dead all of the misfortune, this strange disease, and everything would stop!"

For two nights, Marienne stayed in the dark, her wrists raw from the iron. Rats skittered in the corners. She tried to scream, cry, and call her mother. But no one answered.

"Maybe Madam Vella is right... Maybe this happened because of me." tears streaming down her face as now she succumbed to her fate.

Above, she heard coughing… then silence. Less and less each hour.

When the door finally creaked open, it wasn't the madam.

It was Lora.

Her hands trembled as she unlatched the cuffs and pulled Marienne into a desperate embrace. "They're all gone," she whispered. "All of them. It's just us now."

But the joy was short-lived.

The next morning, Lora coughed blood into her pillow.

Marienne panicked. "No, no, no—Mama, don't—" She placed her glowing hands against Lora's chest, her neck, her cheeks. "Please work… please…"

But the light sputtered and died.

She screamed, cried, and prayed with everything she had.

And then, something changed. One night, she dreams about a beautiful clearing full of flowers. Something she had never seen before as a beautiful woman stood in front of her.

She was so mesmerising with long wavy silver hair and golden eyes. Her smile was far enough to make all creatures fall in love.

The woman then rubbed her hair, "My child, thank you for staying strong and still believing in me when your life itself felt like hell."

"I will give you a gift as your fate is bigger than your misery."

Marienne eyes shot open. She looked at her hands and the glowing turned even brighter. She was determined now, knowing that this time, she could heal her mother.

Her hands burst into radiant gold, not warm but searing, pure, and burning like sunlight against ice. The darkness shrieked as it was purged from Lora's veins, her body convulsing as it burned away.

Lora gasped—and breathed clean.

It was done.

Not long after that people from the Church had arrived. Word had spread of a girl who cured a deathborn plague. They came with armor and robes, smelling of incense and law.

"Who healed her?" one asked, peering down at Lora.

Lora, still pale, turned to Marienne and whispered, "She's the one."

The priest's gaze sharpened. "Then the Goddess has chosen."

And just like that, Marienne was taken.

She has no time to understand. But she know she and her mother would be free from the red district forever.

She was pulled from the shadows into robes of white and gold.

From a cursed child to a Saintess in the making.