It's Troublesome That My Doting Dad Became A Villain

Blink, blink.
I widened my eyes, blinking several times.
The woman in the mirror was glowing.

From head to toe, there wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t dazzling.
Her golden hair was loosely braided over one shoulder, cascading down in waves.
Atop her head sat a coronet adorned with Amates, the divine symbol of Ammas.

It was delicate, like a tiara, with transparent jewels embedded along its intricate frame.
A grand necklace, perfectly matching the coronet, rested against her exposed neckline.
But more than anything else, it was the ceremonial attire that left me stunned.

A flowing cape, lined with a sky-blue sash beneath its collar, shimmered in a way that put even a knight’s finest uniform to shame.
The pristine white dress beneath it was embroidered with gold, an intricate work of art spilling across the fabric.
It was on another level entirely.

The most dignified, extravagant outfit I had ever seen in the Holy Palace.
Had they woven this out of light itself?
I craned my neck forward, as if I might fall into the mirror itself—

“You look absolutely breathtaking, Saint!”
“Oh my… it suits you so well!”
“I think I might go blind! Did we really make this? Or are you just radiating divine power?”

“Huh? Oh, of course not! Haha.”
I let out an awkward laugh.
Hopefully, they hadn’t caught on to how mesmerized I was by my own reflection.
It wasn’t just the attendants—even I had never seen a saint before.

Looking at myself now, I hardly even seemed human.
The attendants’ gazes grew hazy, their expressions soft with reverence.
“As expected of a saint. It truly feels as though we’re looking at something beyond this world… like a divine being who has descended from the heavens.”

“Ahem. Shall we head out, then?”
“Yes! We’ll escort you with all our hearts!”
The attendants beamed with pride, while I offered a small, hesitant smile in return.

Before long, they stepped aside to clear the path for me.
***
‘The Saint…’

‘She’ll ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) be stepping out any moment now!’
The entrance of the Holy Palace was packed.
There wasn’t a single inch of space left among the crowd gathered to see Crescent.

It was as if the entire kingdom had come to witness this moment.
Nobles and commoners alike, men and women, young and old—people from all walks of life had assembled.
Many had even traveled from distant regions outside the north.

After all, a savior had appeared to rescue their nation!
As the crowd swelled beyond count, the knights stood firmly in formation, maintaining order.
Every single holy knight was present.

The people gazed at them with admiration, awed by their presence.
Meanwhile—
“…Crescent will never marry me now.”

Adrian murmured under his breath, his shoulders slumping.
The knights around him were still reeling from the shock.
Crescent, their fellow knight, had been revealed as Atetamas.

From now on, none of them would dare to speak to her so casually again.
Adrian felt the same way.
But more than anything, he had realized a crucial truth—

He could no longer pursue her.
How could he? Crescent was a saint now.
Why had he been standing so close to Adrian just now?

Meteor had caught every word.
A small scoff escaped him.
Would Adrian still want to marry Crescent if he found out her father was the Demon King?

Normally, Meteor would have ignored him.
But for some reason, he spoke before he could stop himself.
“Sir Adrian, are you giving up on Crescent?”

Adrian turned to him with an incredulous look.
“Are you suggesting that I should pursue her?!”
“I was under the impression that you truly cared for her.”

“Of course I do!”
“Then that’s strange… If your feelings are genuine, they shouldn’t change—whether she’s a saint or a demon.”
“…What?”

Adrian was dumbfounded.
But he quickly retorted,
“What kind of nonsense is that? No matter how I feel, how could I dare to harbor affections for a saint? And a demon? That’s even more unthinkable!”

“…”
Meteor fell silent.
He wasn’t even sure why he had spoken to Adrian in the first place.

Now, he felt as if he understood even less than before.
Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
With the Demon King’s daughter now a saint, what value did the natural order of the world even hold?

Everything felt like some kind of divine joke.
And the most ridiculous part?
He was the only one in the world who knew the truth about Crescent.

Watching all these people be deceived… he couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to himself.
Was it Crescent who was fooling humanity?
Or was it Ammas himself?

Then, without realizing it, a single conclusion formed in Meteor’s mind—
The truth about the saint must never be revealed.
If it did, people would lose faith in their god.

The world would descend into chaos.
And beyond that…
Meteor gave his head a small shake.

That was a thought he didn’t want to dwell on.
Crescent’s well-being had nothing to do with him.
Besides, even if her identity were exposed, no one in this kingdom could touch her.

Still… would her secret remain hidden?
That was something even he couldn’t predict.
‘The world must never find out…’

Just as that thought tightened his grip into a fist—
A collective gasp spread through the crowd.
All at once, every gaze turned toward a single point.

“The Saint!”
“She’s here!”
A roar of awe and celebration erupted.

This translation is the intellectual property of .
Crescent emerged onto the terrace, standing alone against the vast sky and the grand temple behind her.
She looked like a manifestation of light itself.

Meteor’s breath hitched.
The Saint of Ammas.
The representative of the very god he had worshipped and revered all his life had appeared before him.

For a moment, the truth of her origins slipped from his memory.
Looking at her now—how could she possibly be of the Demon Realm?
Meteor was speechless.

It felt as if time itself had stopped.
As if Crescent was the only person left in the world.
Is this… what a saint truly is?

His heartbeat pounded like a drum, resonating through his entire body.
“S-Saint!”
“Saint!”

Countless voices rose, surging toward Crescent like an unstoppable tide.
At last, she came to a halt and gazed down at the people before her.
The entire world seemed to be filled with them—their shouts, their presence.

Her vision blurred slightly, the sound of their cheers overwhelming her ears.
It felt like stars twinkling in the sky.
Like baby birds chirping in the dawn.

A strange sensation washed over her.
Did they all come here just to see me…?
No.

They had come to see the hope that they could live.
Crescent inhaled deeply.
There was one thing she could promise humanity with absolute certainty.

“I will.”
Her resolute voice cut through the air, silencing the crowd.
She met their eyes—full of expectation—and declared:

“I will eradicate the Demon King. That is all I have to say.”
“!”
For a brief moment, silence hung over them.

Then, the words they had longed to hear, like a blade of light cutting through the sky, struck deep.
Just as the crowd prepared to erupt into a thunderous roar—
High above, from a vantage point where he could see everything, the Pope stood by a window, gazing outside.

The deafening cries nearly rattled the glass itself.
But the people’s reaction was of little concern to him.
His sharp gaze was locked onto Crescent, unwavering.

A saint had appeared.
It was both welcome and shocking.
But it was not something to celebrate blindly.

More than anything—it was unnatural.
Truly bizarre.
She looked exactly like someone else.

Someone she had no reason to resemble.
The Pope narrowed his eyes, staring intently at Crescent.