My Dad, the Demon King, Is a Big Problem-Chapter 125

A sudden weight crushed Crescent’s chest.

She felt suffocated.

Like she was about to throw up.

Cyrillote—

The lunatic who had spent five hundred years obsessively brewing potions to resurrect the Demon King.

And yet, this deranged fanatic had just told her that something mattered more to him than the Demon King.

That something was her.

That wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

But if it was true…

Then maybe, just maybe—

She could use it against him.

Her eyes narrowed sharply as she lowered her sword.

"Then go kill the Demon King."

Her voice was cold.

"If I matter more than the Demon King, then obey my orders."

If he truly meant what he said, then this was the natural conclusion.

And after that—he could die, too.

Cyrillote let out a bitter chuckle.

"That’s impossible. No matter how precious you are to me, killing the Demon King is a line I cannot cross."

"Then why even say it?"

Liar.

A liar and a coward.

Crescent’s killing intent surged up again, stronger than before.

She should’ve known.

She shouldn’t have reacted to his meaningless words.

Her grip tightened around her sword.

And then—

BOOM!

She slammed the blade down with all her strength.

"You just said I’m more important than your precious Demon King! Then you shouldn’t be trying to kill me!"

How was she supposed to interpret this insanity?

He claimed she was more valuable than the Demon King—

And yet, here he was, trying to end her life.

Demons were incomprehensible to the human mind.

As the dust settled—

Cyrillote’s weapon finally shattered.

The pieces dispersed into the air, leaving nothing in his hands.

Yet, instead of panicking, he simply dodged and let her attack pass by.

Then—

He looked at his empty hands and let out a quiet, hollow laugh.

"Shame. That sword has been my symbol for nearly a thousand years."

"Don’t bother mourning. Your head will be next."

Crescent’s divine energy burned fiercely around her blade.

Her golden hair whipped violently through the air.

Her rage—

Her unyielding hatred—

Fueled the holy flames even further.

And then—

"No, there’s something else I regret."

Cyrillote’s voice was almost a whisper.

Then—

He vanished.

Where is he hiding now?

Crescent stilled herself, focusing entirely on sensing his presence.

There—

Behind her.

Her body reacted faster than her mind.

Her sword sliced through the air.

BOOM!

A massive surge of holy power crashed into the spot where Cyrillote had just stood.

But before the light even faded, his voice rang out from another location.

"You are part of the Demon Realm, too."

"Shut the hell up."

BOOM!

She attacked again—

And again—

And again.

But Cyrillote kept escaping.

At this rate—

She’d only end up scarring the land.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The ground was already blown apart, mountains reduced to craters.

Yet, she hadn’t even landed a single proper hit on him.

Crescent exhaled sharply.

She needed to change her approach.

He’s using time magic.

Then I have to attack faster than he can manipulate time.

But… was that even possible?

A demon who could stop time and restart it whenever he pleased—

Landing a hit on him felt impossible.

But Crescent didn’t care.

She would do it.

Not just for herself.

For everyone.

And she didn’t need help.

The knights weren’t interfering for a reason.

Because right now—

She was the strongest Holy Knight among them.

She was the only one who could win this battle.

And then—

"That’s why I want to look at you just a little longer."

Crescent ground her teeth.

What the hell is he even saying now?

Was that why he had kept running away instead of attacking?

She let out a sharp scoff.

"What, you can’t bring yourself to kill me?"

How pitiful.

The fanatical devotee of the Demon King—

Hesitating to kill the Demon King’s own daughter.

Maybe he just wanted a few more minutes to admire her.

After all, she was his idol’s only child.

And he had to be the one to end her life.

Then—

A dark orb formed in Cyrillote’s hand.

A dense, massive mass of Magi.

The strongest she had ever felt.

And then—

He spoke.

"You are the proof that even the Demon Realm can give birth to something beautiful. And proof… should not be erased."

His words had barely finished when—

He threw the orb.

It shot toward her—

At blinding speed.

It was a killing blow.

The decisive attack.

This time, he wasn’t dodging.

This time, he wasn’t running.

This time—

He was truly trying to kill her.

"What a freak."

This was beyond insane.

Demons being irrational was one thing.

But this?

First, he says she shouldn’t be erased.

And now he’s trying to erase her.

Was he trying to mess with her head?

She didn’t have time to think about it.

If that attack hit her, she wouldn’t survive.

And yet—

Crescent didn’t move.

She did not dodge.

Crescent’s Holy Sword clashed against Cyrillote’s Magi.

This was it.

This was truly the beginning.

Now that Cyrillote was serious about attacking, she had to match him with everything she had.

I will never die by the hands of a demon.

I will swallow your attacks whole and send them right back at you.

A deep, resonating hum vibrated through her sword.

Crescent pushed forward, pouring even more divine power into the blade.

The dark energy writhed and lashed out like a living thing, trying to cling to her Holy Sword—

But it barely lasted a second before it was incinerated by her light.

More—more!

If Cyrillote was trying so hard to kill her—

Then she would try even harder to strike him down first.

Her entire body screamed with exertion.

And then—

Something inside her snapped.

It felt like a barrier had shattered.

Like she had unlocked a door she had never been able to open before.

A surge of divine power erupted out of her—

So overwhelming that even she was momentarily stunned.

"!

Her eyes widened.

For the first time—

She had fully unleashed the 30% of Astina’s power that had been granted to her.

And just like that—

The balance between them was destroyed.

Her holy light tore through the thick Magi, consuming it whole.

The battlefield was no longer engulfed in darkness.

Instead, it was blindingly bright.

Cyrillote’s attack had been rendered useless.

In fact—

It almost felt like he had helped her grow stronger.

Realizing that, Crescent couldn't help but smirk.

"Well, this is awkward. Instead of killing me, you just ended up making me stronger."

Cyrillote’s lips curled into a grin.

"Good."

"…?"

His response caught her off guard.

Before she could react, he raised his hand.

A new wave of Magi swirled to life, even larger than before.

So—he hadn't been fighting seriously this entire time?

Crescent had thought he was already using everything he had.

But she was wrong.

A mountainous surge of Magi whirled toward her like a storm.

"!

She clenched her jaw.

It doesn’t matter.

I won’t die like this.

The violent winds of Magi whipped through her hair, but she stood firm.

Her grip tightened around her sword.

The real target wasn’t the Magi itself.

The real target was Cyrillote.

Where is he?

She tried to sense his presence—

But she felt nothing.

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No trace of him at all.

Wait…

Could this be what it felt like when he stopped time?

Like his existence had been completely erased.

And then—

Her instincts screamed.

She moved without thinking.

She lunged, slashing downward.

BOOM!

The sky shook with the force of her strike.

In an instant—

The thick, oppressive Magi was dispersed.

The air cleared.

And there—beneath her blade—

Was Cyrillote.

Lying on the ground, staring up at her.

And he was smiling.

"Well… At this rate, I don’t think I need to worry about you losing."

"…."

"Crescent."

His voice was quiet.

"I'm glad… that the last thing I get to see is you."