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

Chapter 47 The Unquenchable Heart Furnace Burns the Heavens (3)

Mirad wasn't used to the feeling of not having solid ground beneath his feet.

Aerial combat is still too profound for a mage specializing in rock-shaping magic.

Although the magic circle that Opola inscribed on his lower back allowed Mirad to instinctively whirl in the air, it did not mean that his past combat experience would be of any use in aerial combat.

To put it bluntly... he's more used to making a clod of dirt on the ground and then shrinking into it, unleashing his maximum magic power to riddle any flying creatures like wyverns, griffins, or giant dragons with holes.

This tactic was affectionately nicknamed the "turtle tactic" by his old friend, but Mirand didn't see anything wrong with it.

As long as we win, that's enough.

As he pondered, he had already reached the same height as the pulsating red stars.

Even with the insulation layer constructed by wind magic, Mirad was still drenched in sweat.

Before taking off, he had removed his robes, which might have hindered his movements, leaving only a close-fitting shirt and trousers. At this moment, these thin garments felt like torture, the damp, sticky fabric clinging to his body like a second skin, the insulation layer like a sauna.

But without an insulation layer... the sweat would probably evaporate as soon as it's secreted, leaving only salt residue.

Mirad looked up and saw the girl waiting for him in the center of hundreds of shimmering red stars.

The blazing stars resonate around her, rotating and orbiting.

The creatures containing world-destroying magic were like the most obedient and sensible servants beside her; Mirad could even see humility and submission in the unconscious fireballs.

She didn't wear pigtails today, or rather... she couldn't keep the pigtail hairstyle.

Few clothes and armor can survive such extreme heat... hair ties are no exception.

Dazzling and captivating, her long, fiery red-streaked golden hair swayed in the air, and Kieslfeld's eyes, which matched her golden pupils perfectly, shone brightly even amidst the blazing fireballs.

A few flickering flames scorched across the girl's naked bodies, lingering briefly at the vital parts, gilding them with a simple yet imposing armor. The spear in her hand was completely melted, molten metal dripping down its shaft, the damaged areas immediately filled by the surging flames.

Upon recognizing the newcomer, Kieslfield smiled.

Her smile was incredibly infectious, without a trace of gloom, and her face was slightly flushed.

The culprit who had seized the city's entire magical energy stretched its body in the air, preparing for the fierce battle to come.
"Sorry to keep you waiting... Uncle, you're really late. How do I look? Pretty cool, right?"

Mirad glanced at the girl's chest area, not at her exposed roundness and cleavage, but at something else that caught his attention.

He saw the girl's heart.

Pumping the magic force powerfully, again and again.

How can he see the heart?

Blinking, Mirad then noticed the unusual thing on Kieslfield's chest.

A dazzling, shimmering pattern.

The area that should have been fair skin was now covered by red lines, with a crystal embedded directly in the center of the lines, on the left side of her chest, reaching deep into her chest wall.

Only then was he able to see the girl's heart through the crystal.

In order to adapt to the magic power that far exceeded her own capacity, Kissfield forcibly integrated the organs used to contain magic power into her body, so that the enormous energy could be integrated into her body.

The sound of a heartbeat resounded through the sky, and the countless red stars responded with a rhythmic beat in unison.

It turned out that the pulsation of those crimson stars was simply following the rhythm of the girl's heartbeat. Perhaps from the very beginning, she had mastered this massive amount of magic power, and releasing these crimson stars was merely a test of the extent of her acquired magic power, not a discarded pawn released due to a lack of control. "Truly a genius," Mirad couldn't help but admire this junior, who was far beyond his imagination. "How much time do you have left to live? Three hours? Three days? Three months? Just maintaining your vital signs every minute consumes a tremendous amount of magic power..."

This is a deadly road.

Mirad swallowed the rest of his sentence.

She must have already made up her mind to embark on this path.

Now, Mirad is only curious about the reason why Kissfield was willing to give up her life.

"Uncle, you stared at someone's chest for ages and then said something like that? Of course I'm a genius! Crazy...maybe~"

Kissfield stood with her hands on her hips, grinning brightly, "Now I'm the strongest hero! Stronger than you, Uncle, stronger than the little girl from the Northcrym family, stronger than all the other heroes of Reskateye!"

"Stronger than anyone else...and then what?"

"Then, I will stop the invasion of Rescadeer, return to that country, and expose its filth and corruption to my flames, burning it to ashes! Those officials who seek fame and fortune, those clergy who abuse their power, those nobles who harbor filth... I will kill them all!"

Her smile was radiant, her expression full of longing, like a little girl painting a naive blueprint for the future for her beloved elder: a small estate, with chickens, dogs, and cats, and big fruit trees bearing fruit that she would eat one for herself and give one to the elder. No need to worry or be afraid, because pancakes would rain down from the sky.

"After that... I'll die from exhaustion of magic. Oh, by the way, old man, could you preside over the requiem mass at my funeral?"

"You killed the evil dragon, but you don't intend to return in triumph?"

Mirad fell silent. To gain power that surpassed everyone in the country and then kill all the villains... it was so much like something Kissfield would do that he didn't even doubt the truthfulness of her words.

"I don't have much political acumen, and I don't know how to lead everyone to a better life. It would be nice to start a fire and then die in it, like achieving success and then retiring. Don't you think so, uncle?"

Despite burning her life force every moment, Kissfield remained calm. Her eyes were lowered as she continued speaking.

"Besides... without doing this, there's no way to ignite the flame in everyone's hearts. People living in the lower city and slums are really troublesome and stupid. Even though their poverty is due to the collusion and oppression between nobles and high-ranking clergy, they believe it's God's arrangement, that people like them are born to be trampled underfoot, and they foolishly smile in the face of illness and hunger, until even the priest can't cure them, and they die in their drafty homes... It's hilarious, isn't it, uncle?"

Without waiting for Mirand's reply, she spoke again.

"I've already thought it all out. I'll string together the heads of those arrogant big shots in the upper city, burn them, and throw them in front of these fools, saying, 'If the Supreme God really allowed their actions, why wouldn't he help them?'... That should ignite a spark, right? I've also thought about what's behind this. But I'm not very smart either, so I can't come up with a solution. I can only leave it to other heroes. There are plenty of people smarter than me; they'll definitely have a way."

With her hands making a "V" sign, Kieslfield playfully closed one eye.
"That's my purpose, sir. Want to stop me? Anyway, I hope you'll attend my funeral. After all, dying far from home without friends is too pathetic—"

silence.

Open your mouth, then close it.

Words cannot be conveyed.

What to say?
They condemned her blasphemy against God and questioned her faith.

Since his awakening, he has not responded to any of his prayers to the Lord God... To put it in the worst possible light, the Lord God may truly no longer cast His gaze upon the world's beings.

Mirard was truly a man of few words, and had never personally experienced the situation in Rescadeyer. But Kissfield's burning desire to punish sinners was clearly conveyed.

So, should we give in to her and let her pass away?
……

No.

Mirad extended his right hand, which was in a loose grasp, and the next second, a longsword made of pure magic materialized in his hand.

"What a pity. Well then, uncle, why don't you try to stop me?"

　This is the first chapter today! Please give me some recommendation tickets, monthly tickets, and add it to your favorites!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)