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

Chapter 199 Holy Fist
In the old days, the techniques honed by the pioneers who fought against monsters and risked their lives on countless life-or-death fronts all shared a common flaw.

However, rather than being a common problem, it is more like an inescapable ingrained habit of the times.

Skills themselves are neither right nor wrong, but they are destined to be difficult to fully adapt to the new era and unable to seamlessly integrate into the new battlefield.

The root cause lies in the fact that all their martial arts demonstrations and killing moves, the direction of their sharpness and the force of their fists, are all aimed at "non-human things" as their hypothetical enemies.

Mirad's sword strikes... were a slaughter technique designed specifically for mountain-like monsters, such as colossal dragons that blot out the sky, or Krakens whose tentacles could trigger tsunamis with a twist. When striking, the sword must cover all the vital points of the behemoth with the force of a storm, from its jagged back to its soft scales on its belly, and then to its vulnerable pupils and nervous system... each strike aimed at the physiological weaknesses of this inhuman being.

This tactic, which compensates for a lack of precision with wide-area strikes, essentially overwhelms the opponent with overwhelming sword light. When the battlefield shifts from the wilderness to the human world, and when the enemy changes from dragons to humans of similar size, this technique reveals a unique adaptability because it does not pursue ultimate precision.

After all... no matter how times change, overwhelming the target with enough blows is always an effective strategy.

St. Garde's boxing style is not as widely applicable as his sword-slashing style. When facing a large object, it will inevitably be very powerful and wide-ranging. It should be more effective indoors, especially against an opponent like Kiesfield, where it should reveal its weaknesses and fatigue!
...That's how it should be.

"You seem quite surprised?"

Saint Gard stepped lightly, ducking to dodge Kissfield's unstoppable, scorching flame spear. His left fist, wreathed in flowing light, struck the opponent's jaw heavily. "Why am I so skilled at fighting people?"

Kissfield staggered back a few steps, barely managing to steady herself. She rubbed her chin, which was slightly red from the blow, and said, "Ouch... Don't hit my face, Lady St. Gard. A girl's face is very precious!"

"Haha, sorry. I'm used to it..."

Saint Garde crossed his fists in front of his chest, his steps light and graceful, like a dance.
"In the past, when there were disagreements with my decisions within the team, they would usually form a circle and resolve the issue with punches. Ordinary warriors would usually faint after taking one punch from me. Miss Kissfield truly lives up to her reputation as a powerful hero."

The confined room, the indestructible furnishings, and the distance between the two attackers... were within five steps.

…Everything here perfectly recreates the battlefield she knew so well.

It's like a boxing ring tailor-made for her!
“I have always found this strange since I was born.”

Saint Gard lowered his stance and delivered a swift and deadly jab, which grazed the forehead of Obora, who was sitting obediently in a high-backed chair watching the show, lifting a few strands of black hair... The fist pierced through the flowing hair and precisely struck Kissfield's heart!

"Through the perspectives of other saints and heroes... I have glimpsed the training scenes of the heroes and guards today. Those battle formations, those weapon-wielding stances, and those combat techniques that use humanoid enemies as hypothetical adversaries..."

The plain white flag painted with irises fluttered without wind, reflecting her increasingly fierce punches!
Kieslfield narrowly dodged her jab by sidestepping, and the flaming spear in her hand suddenly scattered into thousands of tiny sparks that poured into the gaps in St. Gard's armor.

Sensing the intense heat in her wrists and chest, Saint Garde frowned slightly. She stomped her heel on the ground, and a pure white light burst forth from within, extinguishing all the sparks within her body!
"...Are extremely large monsters extinct nowadays?"

"I've never even heard of that kind of thing."

Kissfield thought to herself, in an era where all monsters have turned into beautiful girls, how could there still be such a thing... But I heard from the old man that there are monster boars as tall as mountains in the Demon World, how could I possibly see them here in Rescadeer?

"That's really good. It seems this era does have some progress after all..."

Saint Garde clenched his fists, and light surged between his fingers.

The prototype of this fist technique did indeed originate in the era of fighting against monsters, but what is truly precious is not the stances used against colossal beasts, but the power generation methods honed through thousands of trials and the punching trajectories refined through countless repetitions...

Whether the opponent is a twisted monster or a nimble hero, the skill of precisely delivering power to the target, like the tactic of overwhelming with numbers, will never go out of style.

"Yes, I'm starting to like this world a little more now. Even though there are frozen and decaying countries like Rescueyer, there are always people trying to push it in a better direction,"

The confined space was not suitable for marksmanship. After several setbacks, Kieslfield had shortened the length of her flaming gun to eyebrow length... The finesse of her marksmanship had been reduced by 30%.

Saint Garde's punches, on the other hand, were like a fish in water, each step creating a surging wave within a small space.

Kiesl simply stopped holding the short gun and transformed it into a room full of sparks, just like before. With each breath, one could feel the high temperature burning their respiratory tracts and mucous membranes... Each time it passed through their lungs, it felt like an inextinguishable fire was raging!
Kissfield, however, felt nothing amiss. Feeling the heat within her chest, she exhaled a satisfied breath, as if the burning pain was nourishment for her life.

…This kid gets really worked up when he gets into a fight. Opola silently put on a transparent air mask, covering her nose and mouth, and shook her head in the surging heat.

"Lord St. Gard must be looking forward to it too, right?"

Kissfield spread her arms amidst the flames, her burning eyes staring directly at the saint, a smug smile on her face. "I look forward to seeing the day when the ice and snow melt away in this frozen kingdom?"

Saint Gard's fist tore through the swirling shower of sparks, carving a vacuum in the fiery starlight that filled the room.

“You do indeed possess the power and will to melt the frozen ground. That resurrected saint was able to defeat Rescateyer and Adalfons, earning their recognition…”

Straight punch!

Without any fancy moves or deceptive feints, St. Gard simply threw a plain and unadorned straight punch!

At this moment, her fists were the outward manifestation of her indestructible spirit... In other words, at this moment, her fists were constant fists that could not be destroyed or broken, and those fists were eternal and indestructible sacred artifacts!
"As for you, Miss, let me see just how capable the children keep talking about, Sister Kissfield, really is!" Kissfield grinned. This time, she didn't dodge, but instead firmly planted her feet in a horse stance, raising her fists to her chest in imitation of St. Garde's posture. Flowing flames condensed into similar gauntlets between her fingers. Although their shape and posture were still somewhat immature, the stance of facing the Eternal Fist...

Just like a newly kindled flame facing the inextinguishable sun!

Fists clashed.

Epora closed her eyes.

Compared to the vulnerability revealed by St. Gard, Kissfield's maturity and skill surprised her even more.

She almost forgot that Kissfield was no longer the little girl who would cry and whine in the forest. Back in Vesegrand, she dared to risk her life to connect to the magic furnace and obtain magic power, and now she was holding her own against the Saint's relentless punches.

This child...maybe he can accept his own sins in the same way he accepted the fragility and flaws of St. Gard...?
...No, maybe we should just forget about it.

She really didn't dare to gamble.

Suddenly, a light knocking sounded outside the wooden door.

"Sister Joanna! When can we go learn holy magic?"

"Don't disturb them! Sister Joanna is probably having a serious talk with Sister Kieslfield... Let's go paint!"

"Okay! This time I want to draw Lord Mirad and Sister Kissfield swinging on a swing together..."

The children's clear shouts pierced through the thin door panel... The domain constructed by Xin Jing only blocked the sounds from coming out; St. Garde never intended to isolate the children from their enthusiastic calls.

"I…"

The familiar address caused the pure radiance on Saint Gard's fists to pause abruptly, and the light on his fists receded like a tide, revealing his slightly trembling fingertips... In that instant of distraction, Kisfield's scorching fist wind had already penetrated deep into his body!

"Don't get distracted during the battle, Lord St. Gard. Only by surviving can you continue to play with the children, right?"

The blazing flames grazed her cheekbone, the instantaneous heat turning that area into a black charcoal. If Saint Gard hadn't reacted in time, her head might have been burned to ashes.

What an outstanding junior!

"...I concede defeat."

Saint Gard lowered his head, and as his voice fell, the banner of light that stretched from the floor like a white forest vanished without a trace.

"Huh? Wait, wait a minute... I just made that tough statement! Aren't we in the middle of a fierce battle?! Where's your fighting spirit?! You're so lame, Lord St. Gard!"

"If Miss Kieslfield had been carrying murderous intent in that attack just now, I would already be dead, wouldn't I?"

"Ah, um... that's true, but saying it like that doesn't quite feel right..."

Kieslfield scratched her head, the swirling flames gradually cooling and fading. "So, next... Miss Obora?"

She glanced at Obola, who was half-asleep and looked no different from someone who was asleep. Obola nodded very slightly, but her gaze fell on the saint who had voluntarily conceded defeat and refused to fight any longer.

Saint Garde slowly raised her head, but the kindness and relief that should have been in her eyes were gone. An inhuman indifference and emptiness enveloped her face, a sight that sent chills down Kissfield's spine... as if the person who had just been laughing and talking with her had suddenly turned into a bloodless, tearless doll.

"…I see."

Her voice was ethereal and holy, as if heavenly music resounded when she spoke. The scorch marks on her face began to heal, the flag planted in the ground moved without wind, and even the round shield that had been discarded in her hand reappeared.

"The guiding saint, Saint Gard, is overly emotionally attached. Having violated the covenant, he is to be purified of these impurities immediately..."

"That's it for now."

Obora's pupils changed shape, and in an instant, her round pupils stretched into the horizontal pupils of a goat.

After using the humanization magic, Obora's humanoid hands clasped in mid-air, and in the next instant, Sister Joanna knelt on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

(End of this chapter)