My Dad, the Demon King, Is a Big Problem-Chapter 124

Cyrillote, dead.

The image of his lifeless body flashed through Crescent’s mind.

And for some reason—

Her breath caught in her throat.

Why?

Wasn’t this exactly what she had wanted?

He was a demon. He had to die.

Yet, the moment she imagined him without life, a sharp tightness gripped her chest.

That ridiculous thought lasted only a fraction of a second—but it was enough.

She had hesitated.

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And just like that, her perfect opportunity slipped away.

She could have killed him.

But she hadn’t.

Anger flared inside her as she landed on the ground.

A mere heartbeat later, Cyrillote touched down as well, looking completely unbothered.

"Oh dear. What happened, Crescent? Are you getting sentimental?"

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mock amusement.

A faint smirk curled his lips.

It was pure mockery.

"Tch. You’re going to die here, Cyrill. Even if it’s not me, my comrades will kill you eventually."

And this time—I won’t hesitate.

Crescent couldn’t deny it—she had hesitated.

And that made her even angrier.

Right now, she wasn’t just furious at Cyrillote.

She was furious at herself.

"That’s a bit disappointing." Cyrillote sighed dramatically. "If I have to die, I’d rather it be by your hand, Crescent."

"...You’re kidding me."

Crescent exhaled sharply, half in disbelief, half in frustration.

Then, her gaze sharpened.

"If that’s your dying wish, I’ll make sure to grant it."

She launched herself forward before she had even finished speaking.

And this time, she vowed—

I will kill him.

No more wavering.

No more hesitation.

If she hesitated again, she would be the one to die.

Cyrillote had thrown away everything for the Demon King.

That meant he would never stop.

He would kill her the moment she let her guard down.

Crescent burned that truth into her very bones as she swung her sword.

And yet—

Even now, she hadn’t fully unleashed the limits of her Holy Sword’s power.

Why?

She wanted him dead.

She wanted him gone.

Crescent poured her divine energy into the blade.

She forced every ounce of her resentment, pain, and fury into the strike.

Ever since she had gained Astina’s strength, she and Cyrillote had been evenly matched.

Which meant—

She would get another chance to strike him down.

"Die, Cyrill!"

The one who stole my father away.

The one responsible for resurrecting the Demon King.

The one who forced me to become a Holy Knight.

All the suffering I’ve endured—it’s all because of you.

And just then—

Her heart pounded violently in her chest.

A new surge of power erupted within her, like a dam bursting open.

Her sword shook in her grasp.

She had to grip the hilt tightly to steady it.

A light brighter than ever before flooded the battlefield.

Her blade carved through the air, carrying a weight she had never felt before.

Cyrillote tried to counter—

But she was already ahead of him.

Faster.

Before even the blink of an eye, he had aborted his attack and pulled back.

But—

He hadn’t escaped.

BOOM!

Crescent’s divine power exploded forward and slammed into him.

A blinding pillar of light engulfed him.

A strike fueled by pure, killing intent.

"!"

Had she done it?

Had her attack landed?

Crescent tightened her grip on her sword, her focus razor-sharp.

She didn’t blink.

She didn’t even breathe.

Even she hadn’t expected this.

All she had done was pour every ounce of her hatred into the strike—

And yet, it had surged upward, breaking past its limits.

Her power had reached an entirely new level.

As she continued to channel that strength, Crescent shifted her blade.

Then—

Through the blinding light, she saw Cyrillote rising.

If the attack had landed properly, he would be dead.

But it looked like—he had managed to avoid a fatal hit.

"Impressive, Crescent."

Cyrillote straightened his posture, then let out a low laugh.

And then—

Clatter.

A chunk of his weapon broke off and fell to the ground.

The crack that had formed earlier had finally split it in two.

But Crescent knew better.

This wasn’t enough to threaten him.

What was a broken sword to a demon like him?

She deliberately took a slow, steady step forward.

"Tsk. At this rate, do you think the Demon King will still favor you?"

Just for this moment—

She would become the devil herself.

She would kill Cyrillote without hesitation.

Her eyes sharpened.

One moment of hesitation was already one too many.

"You were too bright."

His voice cut through the air, halting her steps.

What the hell was he talking about now?

Cyrillote’s gaze was strangely mesmerized.

To think such a breathtaking attack could exist.

Had he been hit directly by Crescent’s divine power, he would have died instantly.

But by some miracle, she had missed.

Which meant—

He got to see her for a little longer.

His lips curled into a small smile.

"I almost lost myself, just watching your light."

It had been blinding.

Overwhelming.

There weren’t even words to describe it.

Even in his long demon life, he had never seen such a brilliant radiance.

And the fact that it had originated from the Demon Realm's bloodline sent a shiver down his spine.

"Then why don’t you go ahead and lose your life, instead?"

Her voice was cold.

Divine power burst forward.

Cyrillote vanished in an instant.

BOOM!

The spot where he had stood erupted into a massive crater.

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Trees snapped and flew into the air like mere weeds.

Crescent no longer hesitated.

She would kill him.

No matter what.

"Crescent."

His voice came from behind her.

Not even a second had passed.

When did he—?!

Crescent whirled around, already preparing to strike.

"I once hated the humans who destroyed the Demon King."

She swung.

A blinding wave of holy power surged forward, crashing like a tide of white fire.

But—

Click.

Time stopped.

Cyrillote had frozen the moment, avoiding her strike.

Any other way, and dodging would have been impossible.

Crescent would think it was cowardly, but—

This battle would end soon.

Time resumed.

"But now, I don’t feel the same. The Demon King dying once… It was a good thing."

"The hell are you talking about?"

She attacked again.

Stronger.

Faster.

BOOM!

Cyrillote had no choice but to stop time again.

Because Crescent—

With every attack, she was getting stronger.

"Because you were born."

"…"

"If the Demon King had to die for you to exist—then his death was worth it."

KABOOM!

Was she trying to kill a demon—

Or destroy the entire human world?

Crescent took a deep breath, swallowing down the rage boiling inside her.

Her pink eyes burned so fiercely that they almost seemed red.

Divine power poured from her blade like a living flame.

Her golden hair whipped wildly around her, catching in the light.

The sight was awe-inspiring.

To the onlookers—

It felt like they were witnessing something holy.

Something that shouldn’t exist in this world.

Something terrifyingly divine.

"He dodged again?"

When?!

It had to be the power of time.

That was the only way he kept escaping.

Could this battle even end?

Crescent raised her sword again.

A sharp, concentrated burst of divine energy flowed into the blade.

She wasn’t listening to anything he was saying.

She had no intention of listening.

But then—

"Even in the Demon Realm."

BOOM!

"…Even there, I never knew something like you could be born."

CRASH!

"You are more precious than the Demon King himself."

"…"

This time—

Crescent heard him.

And she hated it.

A fanatic, devoted to the Demon King, telling her she was worth more?

The very idea disgusted her.

Her grip tightened on her sword.

Cyrillote was going to die.

And this time—

She wouldn’t miss.