Cyrillote’s expression froze for a mont.
The child before him showed no fear at the ntion of the Demon King’s return. If anything, she dismissed it entirely—casually claiming that he’d just die again and should stay dead.
A hollow laugh escaped him.
And at that mont, a long-forgotten mory resurfaced in my mind.
This exact scene.
The sight of Cyrillote’s strange little smile brought it all back.
This mory had been buried for years.
I was startled. After this day, I had thought about that strange boy for quite so ti.
Wait… that weird kid was Cyrillote?!
I had been baffled for days.
It wasn’t just that he had grabbed a snake with his bare hands to save it instead of . Or that he had spouted nonsense about the Demon King returning.
Back then, I had dismissed him as a completely deranged kid.
And since crazy people don’t fade from mory so easily, I’d probably thought about it for a while before it eventually disappeared from my mind.
But now, looking at him, I finally realized.
That odd little boy had been Cyrillote all along.
“Ahem!”
Suddenly, Cyrillote let out a loud cough, snapping back to the mont.
“The Demon King is extrely powerful, you know? Last ti, he was just unlucky, but he’ll definitely return soon.”
…Had turning into a child also regressed his brain?
What was he doing, talking to a six-year-old about this?
Little sighed, clearly exasperated.
“Ugh, whatever. Let him co back. He’ll just die all over again. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“…No matter what, the Demon King will return. Just wait and see. Your life will change completely when that day cos.”
“…Huh?”
Little frowned, clearly displeased.
Yeah, I had the sa reaction.
And in the end, my life did change—far more drastically than I ever could have imagined.
I was sure Cyrillote had expected to happily embrace my status as the Demon King’s daughter and bask in my newfound power.
What he hadn’t predicted was that in the original tiline, I had died after my father’s return.
Because of that damn magic potion he made.
A breeze swept across the field, rustling the grass.
I scowled at him.
Cyrillote, however, simply smiled, his expression calm.
That mont didn’t last long.
Darkness seeped into my vision as the ti shift began again.
Where was I headed next?
At this point, I just wanted to return to the present.
Because I had a quest—one that required to kill Cyrillote within 48 hours.
And 24 had already passed.
I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, light flooded my vision.
Slowly, I scanned my surroundings.
I knew this place.
The mont I took a breath, I recognized the scent of the air.
I was back.
That ti travel took longer than I expected.
It had been a miserable journey.
I had finally co to understand how much weight my father had been carrying alone while raising in Neverland.
Then, just as I was gathering my thoughts, a familiar voice broke through.
“Welco back.”
I turned toward the sound.
Cyrillote stood before , facing directly.
I barely restrained the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face.
“You know, don’t you?” I asked coldly. “You know where my mother went.”
In all the mories he had shown , I had found no trace of her whereabouts. Whether she was alive or not remained uncertain.
Even my father didn’t seem to know.
But Cyrillote… he might.
He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I don’t know. I did look into it out of curiosity, but tracking down a single human turned out to be quite the challenge.”
He shook his head, almost amused.
Did he really not know?
I hesitated.
“…Are you serious? My mother disappeared without a trace? Just left a letter and vanished?”
“Exactly. She was never seen again after that letter. Strange, isn’t it? There’s no reason she would take her own life, and yet, she vanished into thin air.”
“…”
Even he couldn’t find her?
A high-ranking demon like Cyrillote couldn’t track down an ordinary human?
How had my mother pulled that off?
And why?
I had finally learned sothing about her past, yet it had only left with more questions.
Then, Cyrillote’s eyes sharpened slightly.
“But Crescent, you have sothing to hide, don’t you?”
“…What?”
What the hell was he talking about?
His gaze remained unwavering.
“When you were fourteen, you died saving teor Pluto. And then… you returned to the past.”
My breath caught.
“You created an extra tiline. No one else noticed, but I did.”
Shock coursed through .
How the hell did he know?
…Oh.
The Duke of Ti.
It had never occurred to that anyone would notice.
I had never even considered the possibility of being caught.
My silence lingered for just a second too long.
Cyrillote’s lips curled into a smirk.
“…So, does that an you have so special ability because you’re the Demon King’s daughter?”
“No.”
I shut that idea down imdiately.
I had no intention of explaining my power to him, but I definitely didn’t want him thinking it had anything to do with the Demon Realm.
Cyrillote’s expression turned thoughtful.
“…Then is it divine power? So sort of holy energy that allows you to reverse ti?”
There was a hint of admiration in his voice.
Even a high-ranking demon like Cyrillote seed to find my ability impressive.
“Well, I guess so.” I shrugged. “But hey, I saw you holding when I was a baby. You really just went ahead and picked up like that? Did you show that mory just to piss off?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Because I think I hate you even more now.”
I sneered, watching him carefully.
I couldn’t afford to waste more ti exchanging pointless words.
I needed to attack him.
But for so reason, my body hesitated.
Why?
Why am I hesitating?
He’s here to kill too… isn’t he?
“If you want to take revenge on , you should do it now.”
“…What?”
“Otherwise, I won’t be able to fight you properly.”
“…”
His words were so abrupt that I just stared at him.
I didn’t understand at first.
Then I did.
And I smirked.
“So you are here to kill . On the Demon King’s orders, right? The Duke of Dinsions ca before you, after all.”
“Yes. And he disobeyed his orders.” Cyrillote’s voice was quiet. “But Crescent, I can never defy my lord.”
“Oh, I really want to punch you.”
A surge of killing intent flared within .
I drew my sword.
Every ti he spoke of his loyalty to the Demon King, rage boiled inside .
Holy light blazed along the blade as I swung toward him.
Years ago, when I had first learned he was a demon, I had attacked him like this. Back then, he hadn’t even bothered to counter —he had simply dodged with ease.
Would he do the sa this ti?
No.
Now, he had been ordered to kill .
He wouldn’t just run.
My blade slashed through the air, barely grazing him—but I felt resistance.
Sothing heavy blocked my attack.
The impact startled .
It was the strongest counter I had ever faced from a demon.
Oh, he’s serious.
He really ant to kill .
That pathetic loyalty of his…
I leaped back, lowering my sword slightly to assess him.
Dark energy poured from his entire body.
No—not light, but Magi, thick enough to be mistaken for a glow.
And he had finally abandoned his usual appearance.
His true form had erged.
The deep-blue coat he wore was embroidered with complex black sigils, fluttering with his movents.
In one hand, he held a weapon I had never seen before.
A massive, ancient blade of bronze.
The kind of sword that belonged in a ritual, not a battlefield. Ornate, ceremonial, and absurdly huge—easily as tall as he was.
His black eyes were cold.
Not the sly, playful look I was used to.
This was Cyrillote as the Duke of Ti.
This was him as a demon.
For the first ti, he was completely unfamiliar to .
And sohow, that made it easier to attack.
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