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

Chapter 85 The Other Side

The pure white, colorless cliffs stand majestically, and the closer to the cliffs, the more astonishing the rise of the land becomes. What should have been gentle hills are torn into steep slopes, with the raised rock layers directly exposed to the air.

It was so enormous that when the crimson moon of the demon realm rose, about three-quarters of its surface remained submerged in shadow, like a blank, unadorned tombstone erected solely to commemorate the tragedy.

The Kingdom of Creteria was originally situated in a low-lying hilly region, with terraced vineyards cascading down the gentle slopes to the azure bay. Beautifully crafted sculptures and fine wines were transported to various parts of the continent by passing merchant ships, and clearing the bay of monsters to keep the shipping lanes open was always a daily task for the Creteria Legion.

But after the final battle between the saint and the demon king, the land where the kingdom was located was lifted and shifted by an unknown force... and eventually this cliff that connects the sky and the earth rose up.

The magical orbs emanating from the demonic realm could only float at the base of the cliff, like a swarm of fireflies with nowhere to go. They emitted a faint glow, wandering and drifting at the base of the rock face, occasionally illuminating the ancestors buried in the caves of the cliff, who had voluntarily stepped into petrification.

The white wasteland, near the edge of the demon realm, is eternally shrouded in the shadows of cliffs, while on the side facing the human realm, the earth is abruptly fractured into a bottomless chasm.

The once bustling port, teeming with sails, has fallen into an abyss, replaced by a chasm stretching for miles, constantly spewing forth the remnants of the Demon King's magic.

These magical torrents also possess petrifying properties; any living thing that approaches will begin to crystallize, eventually turning into pale, solid, discolored rocks that fall into the deep valley.

Archaeologists sent by the church observed, through clairvoyance, that countless stone statues were piled up at the bottom of the valley. There were birds trying to cross the rift, griffins leaping across it at great risk... and an entire fleet of ships sailing on the open ocean, their flags still flying high on the masts.

Even the observation posts of the Church of God only dared to be set up on the plains a kilometer away from the rift.

The scouts could only stand atop the tower and use magic to observe the barren landscape of the white wasteland, a landscape that remained unchanged year after year, day after day.

“I told you those monsters up there definitely noticed us. When I went to do my routine observation, a Medusa glared at me fiercely. Luckily, she wasn’t the legendary Demon King, and her magic couldn’t affect me from that distance.”

During the change of shift, the scouts spoke in hushed tones. They glanced at the camp below the watchtower, then lowered their voices again.

"But she does look quite cute... I've seen her standing in the same spot several times, like she's waiting for me to look over... Do you think she likes me?"

The scout casually grumbled to his companion. This godforsaken place was a grueling job, with no days off and barely any pay. The church's monthly supplies were often late or never arrived... It was as if God had forgotten this place; His abundant grace did not reach here.

If it weren't for that lingering sense of responsibility, he would have run away long ago like his twenty-three former colleagues.

Damn it, he wasn't some exiled criminal, so why did he volunteer to come to this godforsaken place to suffer?

His elders warned him that the longer he stayed here, the more his faith in the Lord God would waver, and he deeply agreed with them.

Looking at the people on the streets of Creteia, without exception, their expressions of laughter, arguments, or anger were frozen in their last moments before death... Everyone, including priests and criminals, were treated equally, and it was inevitable to wonder whether the Lord God would truly bless the devout.

"Come on, you still like me? You really should retire and go back to your hometown to find a wife. You can even look at monsters with interest... I think they just see you as prey. If it weren't for the rift between you that's deeper than the God's butt crack, you would have been attacked and eaten alive by it overnight."

His companion scoffed, but the scout remained unperturbed, chuckling as he watched his companion adjust the device imprinted with the far-seeing spell to a different, more unusual angle.

"So which monster sister are you looking at now? Huh? Oh dear, you're clearly watching her even more intently than I am... You yourself said that a few days ago you two started communicating with blinks, and you still have the nerve to criticize me?"

"You don't know anything. Rita is different... She's not a man-eating monster."

"You've even chosen a name for them?"

"She told me herself. Rita is so clever; she can use things to spell out Créteilian..."

The scout grinned, thinking to himself, "I knew you were a good-for-nothing before, how did you suddenly become interested in the ancient Cryteia script? Turns out you've got your eye on the monsters of the White Wasteland."

"Hey, keep your voice down, the men in the camp are keeping a close watch. Can you keep watch for me..." The scout nodded and looked down at the camp below the tower.

The gentlemen had only arrived a few days ago, and each of them was a blessed warrior... Their equipment was so good that he was quite envious.

Their trip is said to be to cooperate with the Holy Resurrection's operation to suppress the Demon King once again.

Alas, the resurrected saint.

The scout smacked his lips, wishing he could be fortunate enough to witness the saint's heroic figure.

If it weren't for the Holy One, how could so many brave souls have visited this dilapidated place that the Church of the Main God usually throws into the corners and alleys?
"Hey, those brave lords and saints entered the White Wasteland and killed your Rita. What are you going to do?"

The scout seemed to have thought of something and nudged his companion on the shoulder.

His companion slapped his hand away, muttering something under his breath.

"I'm sending her a message, damn it... Let me think... How do I say 'Danger! Run!' in Cretean language... She's smart enough to read my lips, right..."

"You traitor! All you ever think about is colluding with the enemy! Where has your faith in the Lord God gone? Has your piety been eroded after just a decade or so here? I'll have to report you to the cult sooner or later, sigh..."

"Don't call out. I'll have Rita pass on a message to the guy you've taken a liking to. Do you want him to?"

"want!"

A woman in silver armor stood beside a five-year-old chestnut horse, stroking its mane.

The horse snorted, seemingly unaccustomed to being petted.

She glanced casually at the tower next to the camp and snorted.

The wind carried some blasphemous words that made her nauseous.

I had thought that the scouts who stayed here could be considered to have noble hearts, but now it seems that they are just a group of people controlled by desires.

Such a person is not worthy of her careful guidance, and even after death, he will not be able to ascend to the divine kingdom of the supreme god under her guidance.

"Trud, what are you doing? We've received news from Visergran that the Holy One has indeed set off... He should arrive here soon for a meeting."

A brave man poked his head out of a tent in the camp and called out her pseudonym. The woman paused, then realized he was talking about her.

"Okay, I'll come right away."

The silver-armored woman, known as Treud, sighed.

Captain... I'm really not good at stealth missions...

(End of this chapter)