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

Chapter 119 The Illusory Golden Splendor and Wonderful Heart Drama
There's no need to carefully consider the slanderous words of demons.

No matter how nicely it's described, it doesn't change the fact that prisoners and guards died because of it... The basis of all its actions is to kill humans more efficiently; that's the nature of monsters.

Did Baphomet really want to spread those ideas?
No.

It's simply because humans are the most adept at killing their own kind, and inciting humans to kill each other is the most efficient way to do so.

Mirad remained expressionless; before the previous sword light could even strike, the next one had already gathered its power.

Such a reckless swing of the holy sword, unleashing the flood of magic power within him, was a rare experience for him. Ordinary high-level demons would have long been annihilated by this insane offensive. Even enemies like the Dragon King's Crown Prince could only withstand the onslaught by relying on the pseudo-king demon realm, which could remain alive as long as it had magic power and was not hit in its reverse scale. Yet, Baphomet survived for a full three seconds.

Baphomet absorbed the golden magic circle into his chest, once again swapping positions with the bewildered and ecstatic prisoner, thus dodging the sword light that plowed deep ravines across the golden sea, as if the miracle of parting the sea was being repeated time and again.

Yu Guangzhong could see the azure light bands weaving through the frenzied army. Wherever they passed, the prisoners who were busy fighting over gold or dragging their severed limbs and trying to attack these heroes would scatter like sandcastles when the tide comes in.

Baphomet had only a fraction of a second to react; the slightest hesitation would result in him being turned into a bloody mess by the blood shuttle, axe blades, and sword light.

"Bound by chains, how unfree you are! Look up... that dazzling gold, the ultimate goal you humans have sought your whole lives!"

Baphomet hissed, spitting out a mouthful of foul blood. The curse of the Thorn Crown had begun to spread into its body, constantly multiplying itself using its own magic as nourishment… In the past, it could have found an opening to break the curse… but these four creatures, even individually, would undoubtedly be a fierce battle for it, yet now they were attacking it with perfect coordination… It was only because of its superb agility and perfect execution that it hadn't died instantly! Under their combined attack, there was simply no chance to break the curse!

If it continues like this, it will undoubtedly die.

"Dominion of Greed·Mirage of Golden Hypocrisy!"

A warm light radiated from its chest throughout the area. Although the light was comforting, Mirad, who was illuminated by it, instinctively assumed a defensive stance, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end in terror!

The entire scene before us was filled with an endless, dim yellow light.

Driven by his honed instincts, Mirad finally unleashed a sword strike in the direction of Baphomet.

The sword light disappeared into nothingness.

At last……

"Milad, what's wrong?"

Orpheus gently stroked his back, and a hint of concern appeared on his usually icy and indifferent face.

She leaned closer, using her cool body temperature to soothe the heat on Mirad's skin. Her soft inner thighs nestled around Mirad's calloused, rough hands, calloused from years of wielding a sword... This was a unique way of comforting Mirad that they had developed over the years of their marriage.

"...?"

Mirad felt as if his consciousness had been forcibly pulled out of the mud. He blinked blankly, the feeling of wielding the holy sword and unleashing its light still lingering in his fingertips, but the scene before him was not the hill filled with false gold.

"I...I had a dream...No, that's not right..."

His voice was hoarse and full of confusion, "Where are Chloe and Ryan? What about Logan? And that Baphomet...?"

"The Baphomet Expedition...?"

Orpheus tilted his head slightly. "That was a few years ago. We defeated it together, and you personally beheaded it. In the following months, we joined forces to eliminate the other crown princes and successfully prevented the Demon King from descending. Since then, the world has been, and has been... at peace until now. Finally, at the grandest victory celebration, you proposed to me in front of everyone."

Proposal?

Him? To Orpheus?
Mirad admitted that in that somewhat desolate corner of his heart, there was indeed a small patch of soft land reserved for Orpheus.

This budding feeling came in a confused and fragmented way.

By the time Mirad realized it, he had already gotten into the habit of casually searching for Orpheus in the crowd during the months he had known her, to see what she was doing and whether she had messed up something simple because of her lack of common sense.

She always lived like a lost young animal, yet she maintained the pride of a predator at the top of the food chain, unwilling to bow down to anyone other than him.

I can't just abandon her.

…He has always been helpless against this kind of person.

The tender shoots of responsibility grow silently, nourished by the curiosity of young people about matters between men and women.

It wasn't until that early morning, when Mirad saw with his own eyes that body as white and flawless as the first snow, and the quiet calm as she opened her arms and waited with an indifferent expression for him to dress her, that Mirad realized that the seedling in his heart had become something he no longer recognized.

"I...you...marry me?"

He pulled his hand back as if electrocuted, instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword at his waist, only to find that his ever-present holy sword was not beside him. "Wait... where's my sword?"

"Did you dream about things from the past?"

Orpheus cupped his cheeks, making him look into her eyes, her voice tinged with a helpless yet indulgent affection, "...It's all over, Mirad. The war between humans and demons has been completely ended in your hands. There will never be another demon king who harbors malice towards humans. You no longer need to live in such fear, like a sharp sword ready to be drawn at any moment."

Those eyes, which used to be frozen by eternal winter, were now like the melting lake water of early spring, clear and gentle, reflecting Mirad's current appearance.

…His facial features have become more defined and he looks much more mature; he is no longer the spirited young man he once was.

"And didn't you agree to spar with the swordsman who came from afar today?" Orpheus sighed softly.
"You waste far too much time on these pointless duels. You leave me alone at home every day. I don't know what I was thinking, what made me agree to your clumsy proposal..."

She paused, lowered her voice, and looked down at her flat stomach.
“I’ve wanted a child for a long time… but I’m not entirely at ease with you like this.”

A duel with the strong? A child?
Yes, he once had that idea.

If one day the world truly achieves peace, there will be no need for heroes or brave individuals.

He did think about traveling the world, challenging the strongest people everywhere... and then, when he got old, finding a girl who was willing to accept him, someone he could entrust his heart to, and living a peaceful and happy life together...

And now that once-distant dream seems to have been realized, and is now right in front of me in all its reality.

The Ophie before him was somewhat different from the cold princess in his nightmare, but... perhaps this was the true form she would reveal to him after she had let down all her guard and burdens?

Memories of my time with Orpheus over the past few years have slowly surfaced in my heart. From the confession at the grand celebration banquet, to our first time together, where we were both incredibly awkward and busy for hours, to our everyday arguments and reconciliations...

These memories are every little thing I've experienced; how could I forget them?

...Was the battle with that Baphomet really just a nightmare, an unintentional dream of the past?
Mirad frowned, and even though the memories of the past few years were so clear in his mind, a strong sense of unreality still gripped his heart.

What did you do when we first met?

"Why bring this up all of a sudden? Our first encounter wasn't pleasant. I had just fled my homeland and hastily found a few tattered law books before arriving in Creteia all alone. As soon as I arrived, I was targeted by a thief... At that moment, I instinctively chopped off the thief's hand."

After reminiscing for a while, a nostalgic look appeared on her face. "I was indeed too reckless back then, and I didn't know how to be flexible. Fortunately, that's why I met you, who introduced me to real life."

Stripping away the superfluous, emotionally embellished embellishments, the description of the event itself is fine... The demeanor of Ophie, his wife, doesn't seem fake—could it be that my reaction just now was really just waking up from a nightmare?
Or is this an illusion meticulously crafted based on the deepest desires and perceptions hidden in one's memory?

The lingering sense of absurdity compelled Mirad to remove Orpheus's hands from his cheeks. Without the slightest hesitation, the man chanted a spell, conjuring rocks into a blade, and plunged it into his own thigh amidst Orpheus's astonished gaze!

Blood gushed out. The pain, enough to make an ordinary person faint, was vividly reflected in Mirand's mind.

It felt real. Moreover, the hallucination was not dispelled by the pain.

"Mirad?! ​​Why did you suddenly hurt yourself? You're not a user of the Blood Nourishment Curse; your wounds will heal on their own..."

Lifting the blood-stained blankets, Orpheus pressed down on Mirad's thigh, urgently unleashing the Miracle of Healing to slowly heal the gruesome wound.

“…I’m going out for a walk.” Feeling the smooth, cool skin of the girl beside him, and that concern, Mirad felt like he was on fire.

A piercing itch spread through his newly healed wound, and he couldn't resist the urge to scratch it. Before his hand could even touch it, Ophie caught him mid-air, the latter expressionless, stubbornly shaking her head.
"Don't scratch... I'll go out with you."

"why?"

"Who knows if you'll suddenly have another crazy idea and do something else silly?"

Orpheus opened his arms, revealing his naked body to Mirad. "Your injuries have healed... come and help me get dressed."

With trembling hands, Mirad helped Orpheus get dressed and walked out of the country house. The girl with pale blonde hair followed closely behind him, always on guard to see if he would do anything unusual again.

On the country lanes, laughing children chased and played with each other, the sallow complexion of hunger disappearing from their faces, and each child was even dressed in their best clothes.

In the endless wheat field, golems equipped with automated runes were helping with the harvest. When the farmers saw him approaching, they greeted him casually, then turned back to chat about this year's harvest.

"Hey, isn't this Mirad?" A familiar greeting.

It was Logan, the gray-haired swordsman who was yawning as he stood up from under the shade of the tree and slowly walked over.

As he watched his friend approach, Mirad stared intently. Sure enough, it was that familiar, offbeat tone, and those casual yet somewhat well-trained movements...

……I see.

...I see.

Mirad turned around, facing Orpheus, who was tilting her head and asking with her eyes, "What's wrong?", and reached out her hand—

It pierced her heart.

"Hey! Mirad, what are you doing?"

Logan's scream and the fear on the farmers' faces were frozen in that instant.

"...Ah, I see. As a wife, failing to perceive my husband's predicament—is that a dereliction of duty? However, the fact that you could see right through me, the one who best suits your tastes, suggests that the real me is not a very easy person to get along with..."

Orpheus frowned slightly, his expression one of confusion as if he were asking whether they wanted stew or toast for dinner.
"Alright... let me fulfill my last duty as a wife. The sun's high in the sky, time to get up, my Mirad."

She rushed towards him, her flesh and blood melting into a false golden liquid, and the heart that Mirad gripped tightly was the hilt of the holy sword.

He opened his eyes.

(End of this chapter)