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

Chapter 76 Transfer
"Very good, ladies, and this gentleman. Please stay inside the circle and don't move... Stay calm. Slight dizziness and shaking are normal. Your limbs will not separate during the transfer. Please trust my technique."

The middle-aged nun stood in the center of the room, with a magic circle engraved beneath her feet that covered the entire room. The fine lines were scattered in concentric circles and were now emitting a faint glow due to the infusion of magic.

The door was ajar, not locked.

So several little girls, like a bunch of rabbits unable to contain their curiosity, crowded together by the door frame.

They stood side by side, their little heads overlapping, trying to peek out from between the door and each other's shoulders. Several pairs of bright eyes looked into the room at the same time, their gazes meeting, unable to hide their overflowing curiosity.

"Is that the saint that Lord Obola once spoke of?"

"Oh yes, oh yes, I heard that Lady Obora willingly let him kidnap her this time..."

"As expected of the founder of our Sabas Order's Visergran branch, he accomplished what we couldn't do with ease!"

The chirping of sparrows was incessant, and Mirad could only try his best to ignore them.

A quick glance revealed that he recognized the girls' faces; they were the little girls who had been given candy by Obora's team during the parade.

Sure enough, even the church was not spared.

These little witches and their little magical creatures, as Obola called them, defiantly set up the entrance to their stronghold inside the church... their blatant disrespect for authority was no different from before.

They were currently in a church of the Church of Vesegrain. Sister Melda, the acting bishop, had come to see Mirad off after learning that he was about to set off for the White Wasteland. She ignored the little girls who were peeking around, even though the latter had never tried to hide their demonic power from the beginning.

Then there is only one possibility.

"Sister Melda, are you a monster?" Mirad asked in a low voice, his face revealing neither joy nor sorrow.

“An accurate judgment. Shall I be punished for my blasphemous act, Lord Mirad?”

The middle-aged nun did not look up, focusing intently on preparing the magic circle on the floor.

"The decision to return the land and liberate the tenants was very bold... and there wasn't much opposition in Visegrain."

Mirad glanced at Obora, the former chairman of the agricultural cooperative, who sighed and nodded in agreement.
"It was indeed premeditated. In order to cooperate with the promotion of domestic agricultural reform and get the monasteries in those places to make concessions, we did a lot of ideological work... The final result was that the vast majority of monasteries and nobles were willing to make a choice."

"The whole process was completely bloodless and without any conflict; it was very peaceful, you could say?"

Hiolitta smiled and asked, "What do you think, Lord Mirad?"

"At this point, there's nothing more to ask. Activate the magic circle."

Mirad closed his eyes, his thoughts wandering.

Although he was not well-versed in political affairs, his judgment, honed over many years of life experience, remained intact, allowing him to clearly distinguish whether a policy was progressive or regressive.

Tenant farmers' dependence on monasteries or large noble estates was not entirely without its benefits. The system of dependence, born of contracts, relinquished freedom and life in exchange for a minimum level of sustenance and security... but this fragile relationship was not equitable.

The so-called food and safety were entirely determined by the lord's personal character; if he was not careful, those poor people would fall into the abyss.

Moreover, after the widespread adoption of new, high-yield crops that are not demanding on soil fertility, continuing to bind tenant farmers to the manor and make them collectively cultivate land that no longer requires intensive farming is an extremely foolish waste.

The lords would not give in so easily, as this would affect their interests.

But with these eloquent and persuasive monsters mediating the conflict, the bloodshed was prevented.

A transformation that should have been incredibly devastating proceeded so casually in this eerie peace.

For this reason, what these monsters did was so commendable that Mirad turned a blind eye to their blasphemy.

…And the Supreme God did not impose divine punishment.

In short, this is indeed a good thing.

Even so, this was the first time he had actually seen a demon belonging to his supreme god, and he felt a strange, inexplicable unease. "Thank you for the compliment. Well then, I wish you a safe journey—"

The teleportation magic circle beneath Mirad's feet emitted a bewitching purplish-red light. Taking advantage of his distraction, Siolitta slipped her small hand into his and grasped his thumb.

Before being swallowed by the light, all that remained in Mirad's eyes was her smug smile.

Passing through the teleportation magic circle didn't feel like much; it was almost as if the ground beneath my feet had changed the moment I closed and opened my eyes.

Everything happened in an instant.

The first thing to grab his senses was the air.

The air was filled with a sweet and cloying fragrance I had never smelled before, as if millions of flowers were blooming at the same time, mixed with a faint, almost imperceptible freshness of the earth after the rain. The two scents achieved a subtle harmony.

The concentration of the monster's magic power far exceeded the threshold, becoming so viscous that it almost solidified.

He had no doubt that if Kisfield were here, she wouldn't have been able to delay for even a moment before being completely transformed into a monster.

Mirad instinctively grasped Hiolitta's hand, his breath gradually freezing.

Then he looked up and saw an enormous moon, glowing with a soft, crimson light, hanging in the sky.

The light was neither holy nor cold; instead, it carried a decadent, alluring, and extravagant quality, bathing everything in sight in a sticky, dreamlike haze that one might experience in the sweltering heat of a summer night, half-asleep and half-awake.

Beneath the blood moon lay a scene that Mirad would never forget, a scene all too familiar to him.

Countless pale rocks, resembling the skeleton of a giant whale, floated motionless in the air, defying gravity.

In the distance, a pure white cliff rises abruptly from the flat ground, towering into the clouds.

Its sheer size seemed to pierce the sky, almost touching the crimson moon. It was so vast that it inspired despair, making the sprawling, brightly lit city at the foot of the cliff appear as insignificant as a child's miniature toy.

"Oh!"

A soft popping sound rang out beside him, followed by a second and a third, all in quick succession!
Was the transfer malfunctioning? Was it a lethal spell? An ambush? An enemy attack?

Mirad's muscles tensed, his breathing quickened, his fighting instincts overwhelmed everything, and all his thoughts were instantly severed.

The defensive magic triggered reflexively, and a semi-transparent shield was generated before the enemy's attack reached them, also completely enveloping Siolitta and Obora.

However, the expected hostility, as well as the bombardment of various spells and the slashing of swords, did not appear.

Tiny pink and silver ribbons and glitter were sprinkled onto the top of his defensive magic.

Mirad stared blankly ahead, where a group of stone statues stood, which he had subconsciously ignored before, just ordinary in the white wasteland.

But upon closer inspection, one can discover that they are not merely sculptures, but gargoyles that can move freely and can be called monsters.

In their hands, they held aloft huge, exaggerated, and flamboyant banners, on which were written in cheerful handwriting:

[A warm welcome to the resurrected saint Milad and Her Highness the Princess for their guidance]

"You're using too much force, Lord Mirad."

Hiolitta's amused voice rang in his ears, her fingers lightly tracing the palm of his hand, causing his nearly frozen thoughts to begin flowing again.
"You're squeezing me so hard it's hurting. Anyway, relax. Welcome to the city closest to the white wasteland, welcome to..."

Hiolitta chuckled, her already alluring face becoming even more captivating under the bewitching blood moonlight. Her voice was incredibly gentle, as if soothing a stressed, arched cat.
"...The city beneath the cliff, the stone city, Miradria."

(End of this chapter)