It's Troublesome That My Doting Dad Became A Villain

“!”

“…”
Gasps and silence swept through the crowd over and over again.
The knights couldn’t even think about rushing in to assist Crescent.

Her battle against the demon was far beyond anything they could interfere with.
It was a fight that seemed as if it would never end, a ceaseless clash of power.
Blinding flashes and deafening explosions erupted right before their eyes.

The demon’s thick, spreading Magi forced the holy knights to reinforce their barriers.
The only thing they could do was ensure that Crescent could fight without worrying about others getting hurt.
Right now, that was the only way they could help.

“…So this is what a third-ranked demon is truly capable of.”
“It feels like a calamity has descended. I had no idea a high-ranking demon could be this terrifying…”
The knights had encountered many demons while facing high-tier Magi before.

But Cyrillote was stronger than all of them combined.
He wasn’t just a demon—his overwhelming presence made it feel as if the Demon King himself had appeared.
If even a third-ranked demon was this powerful, then just how strong was the Demon King?

Yet what was even more shocking… was Crescent herself.
This was not the Crescent they had known.
“Isn’t Crescent still a Primrose? Could a Primrose ever become this strong?”

At Edgar’s question, Reuben answered.
“It seems we’ll have to reassess Crescent’s divine power. She was always a strong one for a Primrose, but…”
He had never imagined she would display such overwhelming divine power.
The amount of divine power a person was born with was fixed. A sudden, explosive growth like this should have been impossible.

Yet what excited the knights even more than facing a high-ranking demon’s overwhelming Magi… was Crescent’s power.
“Win, Crescent!”
Suddenly, Adrian shouted.

As if awakened, the other knights joined in.
“Stay strong!”
“You must win, Crescent!”

And then, in the blink of an eye—
A massive surge of divine power erupted, filling the entire sky with light.
It was the most dazzling display of Crescent’s power they had ever seen.

The knights held their breath as they watched.
A radiance brighter than the sun itself hurtled toward its target at an astonishing speed.
BOOM!

The heavens trembled.
Even the clouds scattered.
Leaves and blades of grass from trees far in the distance shuddered violently.

It was terrifying.
It didn’t feel like sacred divine power at all.
It was raw, merciless destruction—so brutal it felt more like the bloodlust of a demon.

What just happened?
What was that?
A heavy, unsettling silence fell over the battlefield.

Time itself seemed to slow.
Could divine power even be this destructive?
Reuben’s eyes darkened as he watched intently.

The other knights, still reeling from shock, kept their focus on the scene unfolding before them.
And then—the thick, ominous Magi began to dissipate.
Slowly, the battlefield came into view.

Crescent stood, her holy sword driven into the ground.
And before her—
A demon, completely subdued.

She had delivered a fatal blow.
The knights inhaled sharply.
“D-Did he die?”

“Not yet.”
Reuben’s voice rang out. Even he, who had watched calmly all this time, felt an unusual sense of tension.
Was this truly the end?

Or would the battle take yet another unexpected turn?
They couldn’t be sure yet.
The demon’s Magi was steadily fading, but the knights remained on guard, keeping their barriers up.

How much time had passed?
Every second felt like ten minutes.
What’s happening over there?

Why can’t we tell what’s going on?
Their hearts pounded furiously.
Crescent and the demon simply stared at each other, unmoving.

Were they… talking?
What could they possibly be saying?
Even so, the knights feared that the demon’s Magi might suddenly surge again.

But then—
The Magi vanished. Completely.
Their eyes widened.

What just happened?
Crescent continued staring down at the demon.
And to their astonishment, his body had begun to fade.

At that moment, the knights knew—
Crescent had won.
But still—not yet.

It wasn’t over until it was over.
The demon could rise at any moment for a final counterattack.
The tension in the air was suffocating.

Then—
Crescent pulled her sword from the ground and straightened.
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The spot where her blade had pierced…
Was empty.
The demon’s body had disintegrated.

“The demon is dead!”
Reuben’s voice rang out.
A cardinal’s word was absolute.

If he said the demon was dead, then it was truly dead.
And with his declaration, a roar of victory erupted.
“WOOOOOAAAAH!!”

“CRESCENT WON! AAAAAH!!”
“THIS IS CRAZY! SHE DID IT! WOOOAH!!”
Cheers and shouts of triumph exploded across the battlefield.

The barriers vanished without a trace.
Some stood frozen, staring blankly at Crescent in shock.
Others leaped into each other’s arms, jumping up and down, unable to hold back their tears.

She had defeated the third-ranked great demon.
On her own.
We won.

Crescent did it.
“…Is it true? Is the demon really dead?”
“Yes,” Reuben confirmed.

Reuben, amidst the chaos, kept his eyes fixed solely on Crescent.
His heart pounded as if it were about to be ripped from his chest.
Like the other knights, he wanted to let out a victorious roar, to revel in the moment, but he barely held himself back.

The cheers and exclamations were so deafening that it felt like they could detonate an explosion without anyone noticing.
Yet Crescent remained still, staring at the spot where the demon had been.
Was she savoring the moment of victory?

Or was she feeling something else entirely?
She stood firm against the backdrop of a pure «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» white sky, her hair whipping in the wind.
That was no longer the Crescent he had known.

Reuben couldn’t begin to guess what thoughts were racing through her mind.
But there was one thing he was absolutely certain of.
And the mere thought of speaking it aloud sent shivers down his spine.

“In this nation—”
At the sound of Reuben’s voice, the uproar fell into instant silence.
The knights turned their attention to him, waiting for his next words.

They all felt it, the same unspoken realization.
“A Saintess has appeared.”
“!”

“…!”
“The god Ammas has blessed us. That child is undoubtedly the light bestowed upon us by the divine!”
There was no need to measure Crescent’s divine power.

A Saintess’s presence could be felt without such trivial assessments.
Reuben, overcome by the sheer magnitude of the power before him, nearly felt his knees buckle.
And then—

Crescent’s body swayed.
Thud!
Meteor flinched, his foot moving instinctively forward.

Until now, he had been frozen in place, unable to move.
But now, for the first time, he reacted.
“Huh? I think Crescent just collapsed,” Edgar muttered.

Before he could even finish his sentence, Meteor was already on his horse.
He spurred it forward, charging toward Crescent with breakneck speed.
Even from the Demon Realm, the sight was crystal clear.

Through none other than the dimensional gate, Prima watched it unfold.
“…Tsk.”
His narrowed eyes carried a hint of pity.

To see himself from another dimension like this—there was something disheartening about it.
“Relax a little, Meteor. Crescent is stronger than you, so what are you so worried about?”
If Crescent heard that, she’d probably scoff.

Hell, even he found it amusing.
Hah.
A faint chuckle slipped from Prima’s lips.

Truthfully, he had been worried about Crescent ever since she had started fighting Cyrillote.
He had been watching the entire time, prepared to kill Cyrillote himself if things turned dire.
He wouldn’t stand by and let even a single strand of Crescent’s hair be harmed.

But, to his surprise, she had grown strong—a storm of power that eradicated a great demon.
The humans were celebrating as if they were in the midst of a grand festival.
But…

Did any of them truly realize?
In the human world, Crescent was a Saintess.
But in the Demon Realm, she was something else entirely.

A new Duke of Time had been born.
She had killed the demon who bore the title—one of the highest-ranking demons, a symbol in his own right—so she had inherited that authority and power.
Just as Prima had once done.

Meteor gathered Crescent into his arms.
His heartbeat pounded wildly, so deafening it drowned out all other noise, hammering like a war drum in his ears.