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

Chapter 178 Night Talk
As the night deepens and the water clock runs out, the moon shines eternally.

On the balcony of the room, Mirad leaned against the railing, a few cookies still left on the tray in front of him. He chewed them slowly, not in a hurry to swallow.

"They were sleeping soundly; they seemed to have had a great time."

Obora tiptoed and picked up a small, broken piece of biscuit from the tray with her fluffy paws. Crunch, crunch... The sweetness was just right, almost exactly the recipe she had told Orpheus.

Her golden little tongue licked the crumbs of biscuits hidden between her paws clean. She looked up and saw herself reflected in Mirad's deep blue eyes.

"Did you meet with Kieslfield?" he asked.

"Hmm...she is indeed a good child, and Lady Tiluella values ​​her highly."

After learning that the letter contained the heartfelt wishes of parents who were desperately searching for their daughter, Kissfield readily accepted the Fourth Princess's mission.

Obora could understand why Lady Tiluella valued that child so highly. Among the many heroes of Rescade, those who recognized reality yet refused to succumb, and who wanted to burn themselves out to illuminate others... were indeed few and far between.

This isn't to say that other heroes' actions of suppressing themselves or freezing their hearts are wrong. It's just that after watching too many depressing dramas, suddenly changing things up can be refreshing and naturally make people pay more attention.

“She tried so hard to change Rescadeer…and I’m starting to understand her thinking.”

Mirad murmured to himself, casually rubbing the goat horn that had been offered to him, his gaze fixed on the deep night in the distance.

...As far as the eye could see, there were two worlds that were clearly distinct.

Even in the dead of night, the Upper Town remained brightly lit... the interplay of light and shadow, and even St. Paul's Cathedral was illuminated by a magnificent, colorful magic that lasted all night, its gleaming spire tearing through the darkness.

Of course, there is also the completely silent and utterly desolate lower city area, where not a single ray of light can be seen.

The embassy is located deep in the royal city, and naturally, the evening breeze carries the crisp sound of glasses clinking amidst the clinking of cups and the endless, decadent dance music.

"At first, it may have just been a momentary lapse of judgment by a priest who misappropriated donations from believers to buy new clothes for his own daughter."

Obora cautiously moved closer to him, and seeing that Mirad didn't react, she rested her head on his waist, seeking a sense of security.
“But once the cracks in people’s hearts are opened, they are hard to mend. Once they have tasted the sweetness, they will no longer be willing to live a life of poverty and faithful faith. The greed and hypocrisy accumulated generation after generation eventually gave birth to a behemoth like Nosculim.”

"I wasn't like this back then."

Back then, the concepts of good and evil were much simpler.

Humans are good, demons are evil. It's black and white, no need for hesitation.

To abandon one's human identity and join a monster is to turn from good to evil.

Just kill him.

Baphomets like Obora often command large numbers of witches. Over a thousand years ago, these witches were considered fallen humans, having abandoned their human identity to associate with monsters.

His only response to them was to swing his sword.

“Since the founding of the Kingdom of Creteia, the sons of nobles have been required to lead troops into battle. Only those who have achieved merit and slain monsters can receive the protection of their fathers and be qualified to inherit the family business. Even the most doting parents can only think of a few more powerful warriors to accompany their sons’ troops.”

Mira's tone was somber.

The nobles in his memory, aside from the old man who, despite his noble birth, chose to remain unmarried and dedicate himself to the glorious cause of the main god… included King Rillian, who, though old and out of shape, had once personally slain three trolls in his youth. Standing atop the piled-up troll heads, he donned the king's crown.

At that time, power only needed to be tempered by blood and fire.

Intrigues and schemes may exist, but ultimately, the true test will be on the battlefield.

Now, the nobles and high-ranking priests that Mirad saw at that ridiculous banquet... let alone fight, they couldn't even stand still in his battle with Wilmarina. His obese body was almost blown away by the escaping air currents.

How could we have become so poor and weak?

Without power, determination, and wisdom, what can they rely on to lead the citizens?
Obora continued his words softly, "A thousand years of peace, even with us monsters as our eternal hypothetical enemy, for those in power who know the truth... once the real threat to survival is gone, the speed of decay is far beyond my imagination."

A demon lord who hasn't made any major moves in a thousand years... This is unheard of. Many have forgotten the intensity of the war between humans and demons a thousand years ago... In a central country like Visergran, there are residents who never see a demon in their entire lives.

Today's wars have long since degenerated from a struggle for survival between humans and demons into a friction of interests between nations.

Perhaps this is taken for granted by people today, but thousands of years ago, it was always the case that when one country was in trouble, help would come from all sides... Except for small countries like Petro, which only had one city and lacked strategic depth, they were able to hold out in the bitter fighting until the arrival of reinforcements.

The diminutive Baphomet devoured the excessively sugary cookies on the tray, still seemingly wanting more. "And the holy land that once united people with faith is now powerless. They have repeatedly organized holy wars aimed at conquering the demon realm, but their appeal has gone from initially attracting a large and fervent following, to later becoming perfunctory and entangled in interests, until now... in Rescadeer, it is completely ignored, just an empty piece of paper."

“Prune away the rotten branches and let the dead tree grow new. Those nobles and priests who are immersed in ridiculous power games... just cut them off.”

Milad had had enough of those so-called high society circles that used external forces to flaunt their status... at tonight's dinner.

Mirad could also have imagined the extreme approach taken by the demons: to send Rescadeer into the demon realm, thus securing victory before the rebellion could even take shape.

But that was a last resort. If there were still a chance to salvage the situation, they probably wouldn't have acted rashly.

What Kiesl once wanted to do was to inject a spark of vitality into this frozen land, to reignite the flame in the hearts of people who were complacent and growing numb.

And Mirad…

What does he want?
He certainly didn't reject the help of monsters; their pure nature and power were undeniable assets. He also earnestly hoped that humanity could strive to improve itself and break free from its quagmire of decline. These two paths intertwined in his mind, making it difficult to find a perfect point of convergence.

Mirad's fingertips rubbed against the coiled ram's horns, stroking the increasingly smooth horn rings of Obola, making her squint comfortably, her thick eyelashes drooping down to cover her gleaming golden pupils.

“I believe in Tiluella. The monsters have the ability to allow Rescadeer to be reborn in joy rather than bloodshed. For a nation that is beyond redemption, this is a great mercy.”

"But I also have my own selfish reasons. Before things truly fall into an irreversible state, I hope that the people of Rescue can, as Kiesloff said, ignite the fire within themselves."

"I want different voices to be able to resonate freely. Whether human or monster, everyone can find their true place on this land, make their true voice heard, and struggle, fight, and grow for a shared future."

As for the specifics of how to proceed... a decision can only be made after discussions with the leaders of the radical faction.

He knew full well that he was not trying to build a second Creteia.

That nation, forged through war and bloodshed, was a cruel inevitability of a particular era. In fact, even Creteia, now back in a new era, is slowly abandoning its past practices and adjusting its approach to embrace the new world.

He wasn't so arrogant as to think he could single-handedly reshape the entire country according to his will, though altering the terrain was certainly possible...

He simply wanted to bring a glimmer of new possibility to this frozen land.

"I will do everything I can to help."

Obora tilted her head, and Mirad's hand, which had been loosely stroking the ram's horns, suddenly went limp.

Immediately afterwards, her hand enveloped Mirad's hand. Although the two looked like an elder holding the hand of a petite younger person, the soft, thick pads of flesh gently squeezing the fingers brought a wonderful sense of comfort, making one relax involuntarily.

Mirad lowered his head to look at Opola's outstretched claws.

"...Why are your hands wet?"

"I just licked it."

"..."

Mirad hesitated for a moment, but ultimately didn't pull his hand away from Baphomet's wet palm, which was covered in Baphomet's saliva. This level of intimacy between them had somehow become a tacit understanding, a habit they'd developed over time.

He let the subtle moist sensation slowly spread across his skin.

“I’d appreciate it if you could take care of Kiesfield,” Mirad said.

Obora shook her head. "That child doesn't really need my care... She's matured enough to suppress the anger churning inside her. Compared to when she was in Visegrand... she's grown more than just a little bit."

Having faced life and death, and having to confront the reality of being turned into a demon, she also met someone she liked.

Obora's claws drew circles in Mirad's palm, but after only a few circles, Mirad's thumb pressed down on them, and the two fingers touched, creating an intimate gesture.

Oh… he's ticklish. She blinked, quietly noting this discovery to herself.

"...It feels like you two are an old married couple who finally managed to get their daughters to sleep and then sneak off for a secret rendezvous."

Luo Geng yawned and staggered out of the room, rubbing her eyes and scratching her bottom. The cool summer night breeze gave her a shiver, instantly waking her up. She reached out and caught the shorts the robotic arm offered her, hopping on one foot to put them on.

"Holding hands and whispering sweet nothings here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping,"

As long as she put it on, she didn't care; it didn't matter if half of her fair waist was exposed, even if it was crooked and uneven. Luo Gen leaned lazily against the railing, grinning mischievously.

"Should I go wake up Orpheus and Xiaoxi too, and tell them that Mom and Dad are having a special meal?"

"...Luo Gen?"

"Pfft, I surrender."

Luo Geng grinned and raised her hands, then, as if by magic, pulled out a stack of papers covered in dense writing from behind her back.

"Hey, these are the exercises you gave me, Ms. Obora. I've finished them all."

"...When did you do it?"

Mirad raised an eyebrow. After leaving the banquet, he had been with Luo Ran, either analyzing intelligence or joking around. After returning to their resting place, she had even less time to do her homework.

"I memorized the questions after reading them only once,"

Luo Gen waved her hand dismissively, and a mechanical arm timely emerged from behind her, deftly twirling the pen extending from its fingertips.

"Just mentally review the solution process and let the robotic arm fill it in, right?"

As she spoke, she snapped her fingers, and the other robotic arm gracefully bowed, the bearings at the joints emitting a soft hum.

“Continue talking? I’m quite interested in what you’re saying about how to change Rescadeer…”

(End of this chapter)