It's Troublesome That My Doting Dad Became A Villain

"Here, try this. Say ‘ah—’."
I found myself once again in the banquet hall I had visited before.
I stared blankly at Prima.

He insisted on sitting right next to me, cutting the meat into small pieces and holding a forkful out toward me. His clear, bright eyes sparkled expectantly.
The steak looked delicious, but that didn’t stop the deep sigh that escaped me.
Was he really trying to feed me?

I barely held back the urge to punch him.
"If you don’t want to get hit, go back to your own seat."
"I was just trying it out."

Prima quickly gave up, lowering the fork. He placed the piece of meat onto the plate in front of me.
As he did, I got an even closer look at his face.
His silvery eyelashes glimmered as if reflecting light, and his high nose bridge and flawless skin looked as smooth as ice.

For some reason, watching him filled me with a bitter feeling.
Of course, how could that face not belong to Meteor?
If he weren’t Meteor, there would be no such divinely beautiful face anywhere in this world.

It was still hard to believe, but the truth was clear—he really was Meteor.
‘How in the world did this happen?’
Had the Guardian Saints known?

I tilted my head slightly, thinking about the system interface, but no words came from them.
Why were they all so silent?
Just then—
"Eat well, Crescent."

With those short words, Prima smiled at me.
That deliberate smile—it was disorienting to think it belonged to none other than Meteor himself.
It didn’t suit him at all.

Thinking of him as the Prima I originally knew only made me angrier.
In the next moment, as if folding space, Prima suddenly appeared in the chair across from me. Scrape—he pulled out the chair and sat down, and for a moment, his movements overlapped perfectly with Meteor’s familiar, restrained elegance.
So many things were unexpectedly similar.

My eyes narrowed.
He had the same face, the same body, and even the same habits as Meteor, yet I couldn’t bring myself to like him.
"You’re really something. It’s not easy to make me hate you while looking exactly like Meteor."

"Doesn’t that mean you’re comfortable with me?"
Prima smirked slyly, settling into his seat.
That shameless reaction was nothing like Meteor.

He picked up his glass of water.
"Besides, the first Meteor you ever met was me. If you think about it, doesn’t that make me the real Meteor?"
"What?"

I furrowed my brows.
Now that I thought about it, he wasn’t wrong.
Before my regression, the first Meteor I had met was Prima.

The problem was that the difference between how he had been back then and how he was now was as vast as the gap between heaven and the Demon Realm.
He felt like Meteor, yet not, and at the same time, he was Meteor. This dizzying contradiction wasn’t something I’d ever get used to.
Setting his glass down, Prima continued speaking.

"So that means the Meteor you met here ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) is the fake. He’s still young and immature, too."
He scoffed slightly.
Immature?

Either way, he was talking about himself, so this was basically him insulting his own face.
I set my spoon down.
"I think I finally understand why you seem older than Meteor."

During the tutorial, I had been twelve when I saved Meteor and then regressed four years.
That had created an entirely new timeline.
But for Prima, time had continued flowing from the moment I saved him at thirteen.

While the new Meteor and I had effectively become four years younger, Prima had not.
"Yeah. I’m four years older than you."
"For someone older, you don’t seem much more mature than Meteor."

He was just taller and had a bigger build.
At my sarcastic remark, Prima’s smirk deepened.
"Either way, he still has a lot of growing to do. His skills are far behind yours, Crescent. In many ways, don’t you think I’m the better choice?"

"And you say that after turning into a demon? Have you no shame?"
As if a demon could be better than a human.
Ugh, whatever. I might as well eat.

Sighing, I stirred my soup with my spoon and took a sip.
It tasted good, but for some reason, it felt flavorless.
Ever since realizing Prima’s identity, a strange sense of guilt had been weighing down on my chest.

It felt as though Meteor had become a demon because of me.
Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind, and I turned to look at him again.
"How did you even cross dimensions? Can the Duke of Dimensions just hop between worlds like it’s his backyard?"

That seemed unlikely.
Something about this situation felt suspicious.
As expected, Prima answered smoothly.

"Of course not. It requires a price."
"What kind of price?"
"In my case, the reward I gained was worth far more than any cost. After all, I got to see you again, Crescent."

As he finished speaking, Prima flashed me a bright smile.
My expression slowly hardened.
Was he joking again?

I just shook my head in disbelief.
This translation is the intellectual property of .
What had happened to Meteor to make him this way? It was honestly tragic.

"Anyway, from now on, use me, Crescent."
His sudden words made me lift my head.
Prima’s eyes, brilliant and unwavering, were locked onto mine.

"I came to repay the debt I owe you."
"..."
For a moment, I simply stared at him.

One thing was undeniable—Prima’s presence would be a powerful asset to me.
I didn’t particularly want to use him, but I had no reason to reject his help, either.
"Then how do you plan to kill the Demon King? Do you have a way to destroy Baal’s soul while keeping my father’s body intact?"

That was the biggest hurdle.
At present, there was no clear method to separate and eliminate only the Demon King’s soul.
My father had been tormenting Baal’s soul endlessly, but he couldn’t completely erase it.

"So, that’s the thing—I think we’ll need a sword that can cut souls."
"A sword that cuts souls? Does something like that exist?"
That was the most intriguing thing I’d heard so far.

A sword that could sever souls?
I had never seen or heard of such a thing in the original game.
If it truly existed, then it could be used to destroy Baal’s soul!

Hope suddenly surged within me, making my heartbeat quicken.
Prima nodded once before continuing.
"Yes. I found a legend about a sword like that. It’s called the Soul-Cutting Blade."

"A legend? Where is it?"
"It’s an ancient tale passed down in the Demon Realm. Supposedly, it was created long ago through a collaboration between the Demon King and a god. The problem is that it’s extremely difficult to find."
"..."

What the hell?
So it was nothing more than a distant dream.
My brief surge of hope deflated.

Just then, Prima spoke again.
"But Baal should be able to find it. He is the Demon King, after all."
"Then he absolutely cannot be allowed to find it. If he does, my father will be the first to die."

"He’s already looking for it."
"What?"
My eyes widened.

Baal was already searching for the blade?
"I suggested it to him. Told him to find the Soul-Cutting Blade and use it to kill Lloyd."
"HEY—!"

I slammed the table and shot to my feet.
What the hell was he saying?!
"That way, the moment Baal finds the sword, we can take it from him."

"..."
Prima’s lips curled into an alluring smirk.
Unbelievable bastard.

I clenched my fists and sat back down.
At that moment—