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

Chapter 197 Iris

After serving the stew, Sister Joanna placed it on the table and, amidst the children's cheers, gave each of them a large, steaming bowl. The aroma instantly filled the entire restaurant... Sister Joanna stared blankly at the soup stains on the children's lips.

Sister Joanna, aren't you going to eat?

Tom put down his bowl and spoon after eating half of his meal. He was the oldest of the children, around eleven or twelve years old. His mind had become more perceptive, and he could keenly sense the subtle fluctuations in his elders' emotions. He licked the soup from the corner of his mouth, his voice tinged with a cautious inquiry, "You're not going to say you've already eaten again, are you...?"

Joanna's thoughts were gently pulled back. She turned to Tom, the corners of her lips curving back into their usual gentle smile. "Little Tom, you're quite the guesser. I have indeed already eaten."

She subtly changed the subject, attracting the children's attention with the lesson they looked forward to most: "After dinner and prayer, I'll continue teaching you how to use holy magic for self-defense, okay?"

The children were engrossed in their food, and the only response she received was a sparse murmur of their mouths full of food. She didn't mind, her gaze sweeping affectionately over each of their fuzzy little heads.

The overhead lights emitted a steady and bright glow, making the restaurant feel warm and cozy... Thanks to the exquisite magical artifacts brought by Miss Luo Ran, the room was bright and dry on such a rainy day, dispelling the damp and stuffy atmosphere.

Sister Joanna gazed at the scene quietly for a moment, then gently closed her eyes, as if to etch this peaceful image into her heart. She stood up and silently prepared a bowl of hot soup, filled with tenderly stewed radishes and peas.

"I'll leave for a moment to deliver a meal to the nanny."

She spoke softly to the children, her voice almost blending into the steam rising from the bowl.

Upon reaching the second floor, the steps beneath her feet were unusually stable, devoid of the annoying creaking of the past. Sister Joanna clearly remembered that these steps had originally been made of rotten and loose planks, making walking on them a terrifying experience. She knew nothing about repairs, and the orphanage's meager finances couldn't afford a carpenter, so she could only worry daily and strictly forbid the children from running up and down the stairs, fearing an accident.

Unexpectedly... this long-standing problem was quietly resolved after the saint and his entourage of girls made a chance visit. They simply strolled around like a gentle breeze, and these trivial but troublesome little ailments that had bothered her for so long vanished without a trace.

She lightly knocked on the wooden door with her knuckles, and before anyone could respond, she pushed the door open and went straight to the bedside.

The old man on the bed was breathing weakly. Joanna gently lifted his hand, which was covered with spots and wrinkles, as if she were holding a ball of goose down.

"...I probably won't be staying long."

These words were not to be heard by the children; only when facing this old woman, whose life was hanging by a thread and who was kept alive only by her divine magic, could she slightly ease her burden.

“Rescateyer and Idafons are both gone...they both died heroically. Unlike me...I'm just holed up in a little orphanage, running away from what I should be doing.”

“Saint… Lord Garde…” The old man struggled to sit up, tears welling in his cloudy eyes.

"Please... don't call me by that name."

Joanna gently pressed the old woman's shoulder and put her hand back on the blankets. "The soup is still warm. Let it cool down a bit before I help you up."

“I am no different from them in fact. In the end, we are all just... copies.”

Downstairs, children's joyful cheers erupted, echoing through the floor and reverberating in the small room on the second floor.

They called out the visitor's name loudly, as she was a key person to be looked after, which was also the reason she was sent here; she already knew that name by heart.

"Sister Kieslfield! What brings you here!" "Wow, so much candy...and new clothes!"

At this moment, she must be basking in the warm glow of the lights, surrounded by children.

“I can’t be as decisive as Rescueyer, nor as magnanimous as Adalfonso. I just… want to do something, but I can’t do anything.”

"...Do what you want to do."

The old woman struggled to raise her arm, wanting to comfort the saint before her, who was many generations older than her, just as she had comforted the always-smiling blonde girl. Even a saint... could show such an expression when vulnerable.

That wrinkled hand eventually just covered the back of Joanna's hand.

“I believe in you…and the children will believe in you too.”

He spoke these words extremely slowly, each syllable as if he had used up his last bit of strength. After he finished speaking, the room fell silent, save for the faint sounds of laughter drifting from downstairs.

Joanna looked up and found that the old man had closed his eyes and fallen asleep sometime during the night. His chest rose and fell steadily, exhaling even breaths.

Laughter drifted up from downstairs again. She gently withdrew her hand and tucked the blanket around the old woman.

"Hello, Sister Joanna?"

A clear and lively voice preceded Joanna as she descended the stairs. The first thing that caught her eye was Joanna's long, fiery hair, with a bright gold core and a pure red outer flame, which was particularly dazzling under the lights.

The children gathered around the table, where the bowls and spoons were neatly arranged, and they were excitedly sharing the snacks that Sister Kiesfield had brought.

A short, dark-haired girl followed behind her… Despite her height and face revealing her youth and innocence, Joanna couldn't equate her with a child. This was because those bright golden eyes looking at her held no childlike innocence, only the serene stillness of a deep mountain lake.

A silver heart-shaped earring adorned Kissfield's earlobe swayed gently with her tilted head, sparkling brightly. "The children have all told me how much you've taken care of things here lately." Her smile was bright and radiant, brimming with natural warmth. "How is Granny's health?"

Kieslfield's gaze fell on Joanna, quickly sweeping over her faded linen dress, her neatly hanging brown braids, and the faded iris embroidery on the corner of her apron.

"……not bad."

Sister Joanna's gaze shifted to the jubilant children, many of whom had their ears perked up, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation.

Kieslfield's smile faded slightly, her golden bangs swaying gently against her cheek. "...I see, that's good then."

"Kids, remember not to exercise immediately after eating, and don't eat sweets so soon."

Joanna looked at the girl who was silently watching the children, but wasn't much taller than them. "Me, my sister Kissfield, and this girl...?"

“Opola.” A brief reply.

"And Miss Obora, please go to the next room for a chat."

The children nodded obediently in agreement and watched the three leave the room.

The door hinges made a soft clicking sound, shutting out the children's noise into another world.

Joanna, with her back to the two, carefully smoothed out her faded apron and hung it on the coat hook on the wall. When she turned around, her back was ramrod straight, and her eyes now clearly reflected the figures of Kissfield and Obora.

Kissfield narrowed her eyes slightly. “Sister Joanna, forgive my bluntness. The children say that you volunteered to come to this orphanage. But as far as I know, the Order does not easily approve such transfers... especially for a young nun like you who should have made a great contribution.”

She leaned forward, her earrings flashing with a cold light, the air around her distorted slightly from the intense heat.
“Normally, you should have stayed in the capital's diocese to receive intensive training, or been sent to the border as a nun accompanying the army. But now, you've been assigned to this… almost forgotten orphanage, solely based on your own willingness… This is much more difficult than staying in the upper city.”

Kieslfield's gaze swept over Joanna's faded cuffs and settled on her hands as she adjusted her apron.

Those fingers had distinct knuckles, but the thin calluses left from years of using weapons were faintly visible at the base of the thumb.

"I'm sorry, my tone was a bit harsh..."

Kissfield softened her tone, “But I really want to know why, Sister Joanna. I admire those priests and nuns who are willing to endure poverty… but this is where I grew up, and I don’t want anything to happen here.”

Sister Joanna said calmly, "If I remember correctly... Miss Kieslfield, you should be under supervision. Leaving a specific area without the Senate's permission is a violation of the rules."

"Ah, hehe~ It seems that's true."

Kiesl shrugged nonchalantly.

"I snuck out. Staying in the controlled area all the time is so incredibly boring. By the way, it's not like ordinary nuns should know that I'm under control, you know? I remember the official story was that I went on some top-secret mission... It's hilarious."

"I...love this place very much, and I love the children here very much."

The moment the last syllable fell, a sudden change occurred.

Sister Joanna's faded linen apron suddenly rippled like flowing water, the rough fabric stretching out and transforming into silvery armor plates that seamlessly covered her body. Her figure, previously hidden beneath the loose nun's robes, was now outlined by the custom-forged silver armor, every curve brimming with power.

"Om-"

A low, resonant sound.

A round shield appeared out of thin air, its surface adorned with ancient holy symbols. Sister Joanna made a grasping motion with her right hand, and a banner suddenly rose into the sky, its plain white background and iris-shaped fronds fluttering even without wind.

That is... the everlasting holy iris.

A victory flag standing atop the hills, inspiring people's will to fight.

"...The real person? Huh? It really is the real person? Really? I was just bluffing a little... You're amazing..."

Kieslfield's eyes widened, her previous serious expression vanishing instantly. She couldn't help but lean forward, but was stopped by Opola, who had remained silent until now. The latter stood protectively in front of Kieslfield as if facing a formidable enemy, his body already radiating a defensive magical aura.

“My name is Joannadark. My command is to… guide the children of the orphanage into His wings, thereby persuading the hero who kisses fire to join our ranks.”

The flag tilted slightly, its tip gleaming coldly between the three. Joanna gazed at Kieslfield, her usually downcast eyes now gentle.

"Please...stop me."

(End of this chapter)