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

Chapter 35 A Date with a Monster (3)

Mirad was taken aback by Baphomet's ramblings, while the waiter enthusiastically promoted what she considered the most suitable set menu. At the same time, a soft rustling sound, like leaves falling in the wind, came from outside the private room.

A gentle breeze brushed across Mirad's astonished face, causing a slight shift in the flow of magic, which instinctively made him tense up.

The two worked together seamlessly, as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times. Without prior discussion, almost simultaneously, the rock-shaping magic and the golden magic circle were activated, completely covering the open-air compartment.

"Ugh..." Before the cry of surprise could even escape his lips, the waiter was enveloped in a soft lump of mud and carried to safety. In a flash, a dense rain of magical arrows pierced the air. These arrows, composed purely of magic, flew silently, their presence only detectable by the slightest disturbance in the airflow and changes in the flow of magic.

Half a second after the defense was formed, the arrows arrived as expected, pouring onto the solid outer wall and magic array, but they were completely absorbed without causing the slightest ripple, like a mud ox sinking into the sea.

The attackers were scattered in various directions, cooperating with experienced veterans.

Ordinary adventurers would not be able to react to such a dense barrage of magical arrows and would be torn to shreds in an instant by the impenetrable magical bombardment.

"A father-daughter meal...? What are you thinking?"

The moment the rock wall blocked the arrow, his brows furrowed and his voice trembled slightly, not because of the sudden assassin's attack, but because of what Obora, who dared not meet his gaze, had just said at the table.

Obora subconsciously wove a golden magic circle that absorbed all the magic power of the magic arrow, causing ripples to spread across it. Under Mirad's burning gaze, her cheeks flushed slightly.

This couldn't go on. A few strands of hair clung to her slightly sweaty forehead. With a determined look, Obora turned her head and faced Milad.

“If we’re not father and daughter, how would you explain our relationship to that waiter?” She remained calm, though her voice was a half-tone higher than usual. “Master and disciple? Friends despite the age gap? Daughter of a friend? It’s all a waste of breath. It’s better to go along with what he says and let things settle down.”

After a volley of magical arrows ended, giving the attackers no chance to catch their breath, Obora and Mirad seized the opportunity and simultaneously pinpointed the assassin's location.

The rock pillars rose from the ground, encircling and imprisoning all the attackers who tried to escape. Golden magic circles unfolded from the soles of the feet, and thorns that grew from them slowly and carefully wrapped around the ankles. If you exerted too much force, they would tear your tendons apart, but as long as you stayed put, you would be safe.

"They can give quite a few high-sounding reasons,"

Mirad's face was stern, and his voice had returned to calm, but the complex emotions in his eyes had not yet dissipated.

The assassin's killing intent was clearly not directed at him, but at the petite Baphomet in front of him.

Although he didn't know the reason for the assassins' attack, he couldn't accept that Obora would die before she had atoned for her sins... Of course, that didn't mean she could use that to disgust and mock him with those words.

From Mirard's vantage point above, the girl's already petite body was curled up in a ball, making her appear even more adorable. The thought that the crazed sheep-like monster might now be a little girl with outstretched arms, sweetly asking for her father's hug sent a chill down Mirard's spine.

An absurd thought flashed through his mind, and without thinking, he blurted it out.

"Are you... yearning for a father's love?"

Mirad regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. But then she thought about it, and it really did explain why Obola had said those words. After all, Obola had now turned into a little girl; had her mind regressed to that of a young child...?
"...?"

Obora's expression froze.

Realizing what the other person meant, and recalling the words she had said in a moment of irrationality, the dignified, mature, and calm professor slightly opened her mouth and then closed it again. The last time she showed such an expression was when she learned that her student's experimental field had been completely devoured by students from the neighboring department.

This guy seems to be serious.

How should this kind of place be explained?

She couldn't very well admit that for a moment she did think about sitting in Mirad's lap like a little girl and acting coquettishly, could she?
Silence spread between the two.

No, this explanation... also seems to be a possible solution.

After a moment, she seemed to have made up her mind. She took a deep breath, slowly nodded, and decided to go with the flow.

"Yes, you're right. In a moment of confusion, I mistook you, the one who has absolute power over me, for my father. This was because I was insecure about the future and longed for your approval and forgiveness... It had nothing to do with lust."

Clenching her fists, Obola continued without changing her expression, "This is a very classic illusion and complex, named after a princess who avenged her father."

"..."

Mirad was speechless for a moment.

His deliberately sarcastic remark elicited an unexpectedly serious response, leaving him unsure how to respond.

Baphomet really is Baphomet. I shouldn't have let my guard down and thought I could outwit the sharp-tongued Baphomet.

Think carefully about how to continue the counterattack against the arrogant monster in front of you, who is putting on a reliable and mature adult act.

...I've got it. Since the other party is pretending to be serious, I might as well play along. "It's alright, just this once, I'll allow you to call me father, to make up for your regret."

What is this guy talking about?

Is this considered giving himself a way out?
Obora blinked; the conversation had progressed to the point where both sides were rambling incoherently, completely exceeding her expectations. However, she found it difficult to resist the allure and promises contained in Mirad's words.

Her throat tightened. Could there be a trap here...? What if she shouted and the other person pulled out the Holy Sword and chopped her head off? No, that's not right, the Holy Sword is in the Elf Forest...

Is that little girl, Hiolitta, hiding nearby, ready to pop up and laugh out loud the moment I call out, "Prank was a huge success! Obora, your redemption progress is now zero!"
There's a 9 out of 10 chance.

It's best not to shout; let's change the subject and brush it off.

The thought only lasted a moment, but as a veteran member of the Sabas Order, Obola's long-unfulfilled desire to act spoiled by her older brother had already become instinct! Before she could react, her tongue had already started moving on its own!

"…dad."

Words slipped from her lips as softly as a mosquito's buzz.

"..."

"..."

It’s over.

Realizing what she had said, Obola froze.

She slowly closed her eyes, bracing herself for being recorded and mocked by Hiolitta with the photographic crystal, but Obola never heard the girl's familiar laughter. She quietly opened her eyes a crack and saw Mirad's shocked and stunned expression.

...So this usually composed man can also show such an expression.

No, now is not the time to think about that!
The small satisfaction of seeing a side of Mirad unknown to others was instantly overwhelmed by greater panic. At this moment, the arrogant smile of Hiolitta unfortunately surfaced in Obola's mind.

"It's so pitiful that the path to redemption was ruined by a moment of carelessness, Miss Obora?"

She would definitely say that if she knew.

Rather than be mocked by Siolitta, it's better to...

Oprah placed her teacup on the table and smiled.

"Hiolitta is especially good at playing pranks, as you probably know. Her usual jokes involve lowering the target's guard and making flippant remarks before they realize what's happening,"

I'm sorry, little girl.

But who gave you the right to reveal my real name in front of Mirad?
The dignified, mature, and calm professor smiled and nodded, "You've probably encountered this kind of thing a lot when you're with her, haven't you? You'll get used to it. She doesn't really mean any harm."

"Ah. Indeed."

Mirad snapped out of his reverie, a gentle smile slowly spreading across his lips. "I'm gradually getting used to it."

"By the way, didn't she come with you?"

"No."

The two fell silent again, an awkward stillness filling the air.

"..."

"..."

"Are we going to interrogate those assassins? Your disguise is superb; outsiders shouldn't know you're a demon. So they're probably after your identity as the head of the farmers' association."

"good idea."

The two, who had never reached a consensus so quickly, looked away from each other and tacitly chose to keep what had just happened to themselves.

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(End of this chapter)