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

Chapter 143 The Death of Mirad (Chapter 65 revised)
The use of necromancy, a technique commonly used today to resurrect the dead, actually has a subtle additional condition.

That is, the more the deceased is attached to the world, the easier it is for them to be resurrected, because such souls usually do not enter the underworld, but wander around the world, expressing unfulfilled wishes or thinking about people they have never seen again.

Conversely, if one is determined to die without any attachments and runs headlong towards the underworld without looking back... then the difficulty of resurrection will increase significantly. To summon back a soul that is already peacefully residing in the underworld, one must obtain the help of Hel, the goddess of life and death.

When Mirad was resurrected for the first time, he realized that Ophis had placed a curse on him.

That was a curse so vicious it defied description.

His soul was fixed to his body, unable to break free, and therefore unable to enter the underworld.

Even if one day in the future the sun shatters, the continent sinks, and stars fall... he will still live on.

For a time after his first resurrection, Mirad tried many different ways to kill himself. For example, he fought monsters to the point of exhaustion and was devoured, or he jumped into a pool of lava without any protection.

Of course, he later discovered that the lava consumed his magic faster than he could replenish it, and soaking in it was pointless except for the pain of his skin charring, flesh peeling off and then instantly regenerating... but that's another story.

Since death is already a luxury, let's continue to protect those who still need help.

He failed to protect everyone in Creteia, failed to protect his best friend with whom he could chat and talk nonsense under the moonlight, and failed to protect the elders and relatives who cared about him... So at least, he cannot let his tragedy be repeated on others.

Thus, the name "Saint of Resurrection" resounded across the battlefields of various nations.

He descended with his sword, bringing back one victory after another. Wherever his sword touched, the rout lines were stabilized, and fallen cities were brought back to life. During the time he was in command, humanity recovered an unprecedented amount of lost territory, and the casualty rate dropped to a number that could only be described as a miracle.

He lives on, carrying the hopes of the departed, and bearing the deepest and most desperate hatred and love of the one who cast the curse.

What was Orpheus thinking in his final moments...? He thought he would never know.

"Release it. Those two monsters over there should know the ritual to resurrect me. I will be reborn, I will return... to force you to confront your sins."

"……I see."

Orpheus slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, all the struggle and pain in her seemingly colorless white eyes had been dissolved into a cold, clear understanding.

“As you wish,” she said.

Then, the curse was lifted.

Then, what had been frozen finally began to move.

The bells rang again, the interrupted music played again, and cheers rose and fell outside the palace... Today was a grand day, when their heroes would be awarded medals.

A close friend finally spoke the words he couldn't say before he died.

The heroes immediately drew their battle axes and staffs, warily eyeing the several monsters that had suddenly appeared.

The bishop trembled as he reached out his hand, wanting to touch his deceased adopted son, whom he had loved like a son.

The king's impassioned speech, which had just begun, was abruptly cut off.

Baphomet, who was hoping for a fair trial, frowned. Lilim, who was chasing the stars, was certain that her judgment was correct and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. They looked at each other and saw relief in each other's eyes.

In this silence, all eyes were focused on... the pure white demon with pale golden hair, tightly embracing her lover's corpse. She buried her face deeply in his still-warm chest, unwilling to let go no matter what.

Mirad closed his eyes.

There was no pain, no struggle. It was just an oil lamp that had burned for far too long, finally running out of its last drop of oil, and the flame went out peacefully. His always straight spine bent for the second and final time, and he finally collapsed into the monster's cold embrace.

So this is what death feels like.

It wasn't exactly cold; it was even somewhat warm.

It was as if, after a long and exhausting journey, he had returned to his long-lost hometown and lay down on his familiar bed, which smelled of sunshine.

All burdens can be laid down, and all wounds can be healed.

How do I get to the underworld? I'd really like to go and see it if I had the chance.

But...shouldn't I be attached to this world?
He doesn't want to give up his burdens, nor does he want to abandon those who need him.

Logically speaking, the soul should remain in the mortal world. So where is this boundless darkness I am in now?
Mirad tried to look around, but all he could see was absolute, pure darkness without a single ray of light.

"Long time no see, little Milad."

A gentle female voice suddenly rang out from every corner of this darkness.

Mirad could sense an unimaginably vast being slowly approaching him from the darkness, bringing with it a motherly warmth.

“I’m sorry, little Mirad. I haven’t had a chance to respond to your prayers until now. I finally have time to come and see you and these people who are frozen in time. How was your first real experience of death? It shouldn’t have hurt… It hasn’t hurt for a very, very long time.”

He will never forget that voice.

It was the voice that had guided him when he was lost, and that gave him a warning when the demonic dragon at the bottom of the abyss was about to awaken.

Its corresponding existence is...

"...Lord God?"

Although it was somewhat inappropriate, at this moment, he had so many questions he wanted to ask.

For example, why have you not responded to my prayers? Why have you stood by and watched the Order become so incompetent? Why have you tacitly approved those absurd magical prohibitions? Why have you allowed such a divided and distorted kingdom as Rescadeye to exist?
"Hmm... it's been a while since I've used that term of address."

There was a hint of nostalgic laughter in that voice.

"But now my lovely followers prefer to call me the Fallen God. As for the current supreme god you mentioned... that's my slightly mischievous younger sister."

"……what?"

"Oh, by the way, little Mirad, you're actually not dead. Little Orpheus's curse was already affected by the demon's magic, and after spending so much time in the Demon Realm, you must have expected it, right? Now you've become a Night Demon, you know?"

"……what?"

Mirand's brain briefly shut down due to the overload of information.

The deity, radiating an immense presence and calling himself the Fallen God, chuckled twice, paused to allow him to regain his composure, and then continued speaking.
"Oh dear, little Orpheus doesn't seem to have noticed that yet, does she? She's still sad. Would you like to look at the scenery outside? Time flows differently here than outside, so when you see the scenery outside, it will be very, very slow, almost as if it's frozen."

In an instant, the pure darkness was once again gloriously bright, and Mirad was back in the palace. Before his mind could process the shocking facts, he saw his former best friends, seniors, and elders, all regaining their color... and Orpheus holding his still warm body in his arms, his tears soaking his chest.

They were all motionless, as if time had stood still.

"You can use this time to think carefully about how to deal with them. For example... the child blessed by Ares is almost losing his grip on the axe. And if you have any other questions, I'll be here to answer them."

(End of this chapter)