What should I do if the hero is resurrected in the Monster Girl Encyclopedia?

Chapter 107 The Confession Room (Part 2)
"...First question. Have you traveled far and wide, searching for information about heroes?"

In the dim and cramped environment, Lady Mirad's reassuringly gentle voice came from the round hole in front of her.

Hiolitta's nose twitched slightly as she greedily inhaled the scent that slowly filled the narrow confessional room—a scent unique to Lord Mirad.

The confessional room has been specially treated so that the man's strong magical energy cannot leak out, which naturally increases the concentration of magical energy in the air. Monsters inside are like monsters in a honey pot, and they don't have to worry about drowning rats.

This confessional is like a gradually heating oven, constantly baking the monsters' brains and tormenting their reason. The monsters' rationality is slowly eroded in this environment... No matter how calm a monster is, in the end, it will abandon its pride and use the round hole in the middle of the partition to transmit its voice and pour out its heart to its beloved husband.

However… it seems that Lord Mirad, who is opposite the confessional, has not noticed this.

The hem of her nun's robe was rolled up between her legs as Siolitta pondered how to answer the other person's question.

The first question shouldn't be a trap... Lord Mirad probably just really wants to know about my past behavior.

Relax... just share your experiences...

Having figured this out, Siolitta slowly spoke, her voice softening as it traveled through the hole and into the other person's ear, "...Yes, Father. I've been searching for information and items related to that legendary hero for a very long time, probably since I was ten years old. Although his activities were mainly concentrated in the Kingdom of Cretea, he also participated in several expeditions to exterminate monsters... On the old battlefield where humans and demons once clashed, I found a fragment of his breastplate, which has not rusted even after a thousand years."

That fragment remains Siolitta's most treasured possession, second only to the one-of-a-kind miniature model of the saint she commissioned from one of her sisters... Of course, it is now gradually being surpassed by various new additions to the collection, a situation Siolitta is quite pleased with.

"Second question. You've poured so much effort, time, and energy into this... Deep down, did you ever even hope, for a moment, that you could gain his favor because of it?"

"..."

The effects of being under the high concentration of her beloved's magic have begun to appear, and even Lilim is not immune to them.

Hiolitta exhaled hot white steam, and a blush had already crept onto her cheeks without her realizing it.

Simply chasing after the stars won't make the shining stars in the sky feel your heart and fall to the ground for your sake.

The distance between people and stars is too great; even heartfelt words cannot be conveyed.

Moreover, the falling stars are nothing more than dark, smelly, and hard stones.

This is a truth that Siolitta understood long ago.

But she also hoped that when she saw the efforts she had made for him, the stars would condescend to descend to earth and offer her a kiss filled with the same love.

But she also had a romantic fantasy: the stars in the sky would still shine even if they fell to the ground, a dreamlike thing that matched her wishful thinking, radiant and dazzling.

So she calculated the time it would take for the star to fall, hoping to witness that starlight with her own eyes and shatter all her expectations and fantasies.

At that time, she might be able to shed the filter of her fans and get to know that hard, smelly black stone that has fallen to the ground, with a more down-to-earth identity.

The identity of a nun would be perfect; no one could dislike a devout and adorable little nun. Even the hardest stone would be softened by a little nun!

She was prepared for all of this.

but.

Xingxing actually knelt down on one knee in front of her, condescending herself.

The stars really did fall to the ground, and they shone with dazzling brilliance.

And so, without realizing it, she continued to follow him as someone who chased the stars.

So, how should this question be answered?

We've made him wait quite a while... This is a huge dereliction of duty on the part of a fan!
"No. As a fan, if you expect your idol to give you the same love just because you've given so much... then that would be overstepping your bounds, wouldn't it? I'm not that much of a fanatic."

Lies. Deception. Fooling.

Almost instantly, the magic circle imprinted on the confessional partition made its judgment, and a large "X" materialized due to magic, making the result clearly visible to both sides.

"Okay, okay, I admit it. There was a moment... or many moments, when I fantasized about catching up with the stars through my own efforts. But that's impossible, right? One-sided enthusiasm can't lead to a good ending."

Hiolitta chuckled. "Alright, now I'm the bad kid who lied. How will this confessional punish me?"

Her nun's robes and little leather boots were essentially constructed from magic, making changing clothes convenient and eliminating the need for cleansing spells. However, the magic of monsters possesses a unique property… namely, assimilation and erosion.

"..."

Mirad frowned and clenched his fists loosely.

He felt as if he were caressing something perfectly proportioned, which, judging from its shape and size, should be a pair of small feet.

At this moment, her slender feet trembled as he unconsciously clenched his fists, and even the voice of Hiolita on the other side of the partition sounded somewhat weak and sticky.

"Oh, Father... you've linked magic to my shoes... please don't tickle me! I hate it when people tickle my feet..." The sweet, rich citrus fragrance wafted through the small confessional as the fine sweat on Siolitta's body evaporated, inevitably catching Mirad's eye and seeping into his nostrils, like a violin bow stimulating the deepest nerves.

"Don't lie, answer truthfully."

His left middle finger twitched as if in a spasm, sliding across the warm sole of his foot, causing Lilim, sitting opposite him, to tremble as well, a clear laugh escaping from her lips.

Unlike Obola, who was adept at tickling and could make Hyolitta laugh uncontrollably, Mirad only tentatively touched areas he thought might react excessively, hoping to punish the monster in the process.

"Hahaha... Alright, Father. Pfft... What's the next question?"

The punishment didn't seem to have much effect. For some reason, Hiolitta seemed slightly tipsy, like someone who had just had a light drink.

She even had the leisure to curl her toes and, through the magical connection and transmission, lightly tickle Mirad's palm.

"The third question. What did that hero do that made you pursue him so relentlessly? What drove you to become his fan, to travel across mountains and rivers, and to stubbornly follow his trail all the way to this day? Everything needs a trigger."

Hiolitta moved her feet, which were encased in short leather boots. Unlike the hard insoles, she felt the warm, rough touch of someone's palm.

Unlike the tickling spell that Teacher Obola had practiced countless times on herself and was very skilled at, this person's movements were quite clumsy, and it could be said that he didn't tickle at all.

But Siolitta couldn't help but smile, because she saw a side of someone that wasn't so composed or calm.

"The opportunity... if it's about hearing stories of heroes, then there should indeed be a beginning."

While residing in the Demon Realm, she would always pester her father to tell her bedtime stories.

After telling countless stories of heroes slaying dragons, marrying princesses, and resurrecting dragons, my father would always end with a story that didn't have a happy ending.

That was... a half-baked story about a hero who single-handedly defended the city from the demonic tide, but there was no triumph and no sequel.

The brave man has become accustomed to stepping onto the battlefield as soon as he crawls out of his grave. He has also accepted abandoning personal feelings and emotions, becoming a waterwheel that will never stop turning as long as the water flows. Although he is spinning in place, he can still bring happiness and joy to the people.

For him, every battle is not the last; even if it ends in death, he still has the chance to stand up and fight again.

But for those behind him, every battle is a choice between life and death.

Bearing the expectations and hopes of those behind him, he cannot afford to lose.

He had no familiar weapons at his disposal, and no support from behind. What awaited him was a tide of monsters, all of them high-level demons.

After seven days and seven nights of battle, the tide of monsters finally subsided, leaving only the corpses of the heroes standing atop the mountain of corpses.

Even until the very end, he did not give up the fight, and when he was exhausted, he still used his teeth to tear off pieces of the monster's flesh.

And so, the people saved by the hero found happiness.

People praised him.

Everywhere he went became fertile land.

The tragedies he saved are as numerous as the stars.

"But, Father, did the hero himself find happiness? Did he avert his own tragedy? Did he make his country fertile land? Why does it feel like this hero never lived for himself...? This is unfair. Why doesn't the person who brings happiness to others receive the happiness he deserves? While others celebrate peace, his body is hastily collected... and taken to a remote mountainous area by refugees for burial amidst hardship and wandering."

"Don't you like this ending?" the father would always answer in his gentle tone.

"I don't like it! I want to change this ending!"

Even if idols are wary of them, heroes despise them, and saints scorn them.

She also wanted to change that outcome.

"...It all started so simply, just a little girl's daydream and boast before falling asleep, which she found she couldn't forget when she woke up."

"...Do you think that hero deserves happiness? He has been on a long, long journey, so long that wounds that were not his own have grown on his back. I think he can no longer return to a simple and plain daily life."

Mirad murmured almost in his sleep to the round hole, "He can't rest."

"At least... I want him to live for himself for once, to be a little selfish, to follow his own desires. Father, I really am a rule-breaking, selfish, and fanatical fan, aren't I?"

"In a sense, yes."

"Then will you accept my confession?"

"...Not really, it's not a serious crime, not to the point where I need to pardon you. But I will still pray for you, hoping your dreams come true."

(End of this chapter)