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

Chapter 5 Whitewashing
In order to raise money for food and travel expenses, Milad stayed near the monastery for a few more days.

In between reading the historical materials and scriptures in the library, he would repair houses that had collapsed because of the noise he made, use earth magic to loosen the soil for farmers to enhance soil fertility, survey groundwater to dig new wells, or go into the forest to hunt wild boars that were damaging crops. He did all the work he could to earn equivalent dry food and travel expenses.

During this time, whenever Siolitta finished work, she would follow him around like a shadow, watching him use his spare time to do things for the villagers.

He was happy to lead Hiolitta into the forest alone, actually luring him into a trap he had set, but each attack ended in his failure.

He only stopped testing Siolitta's strength when the villagers and even other nuns began to look at him and Siolitta with increasingly strange eyes.

The more he probed, the more astonished Mirad became by the other party's unfathomable depth, leaving him speechless.

Although those traps weren't designed to completely kill in order to avoid provoking the target, they weren't something a mid-level demon could easily dodge.

Siolitta floated like a feather over the trap without triggering the sensing array he had set up. His smug expression, trying to appear relaxed but unable to suppress a smile, was like that of a child who had done a good deed, holding his head high and waiting for his parents' reward.

Unable to see through her disguise, and unwilling to consider the possibility of succubus speech, Mirad could only marvel at her deep cunning and superb acting skills.

Mirad had to admit that over the past thousand years, the combat power of mid-level demons had also increased dramatically. He, a hero of the old era, could no longer board the ship of the new era, and he felt unusually pessimistic about the future of humanity. The arrangement of learning new magic and retrieving the Holy Sword was imminent.

You have to do it before the other person loses interest in you and starts harming others.

As for Hiolitta's claim of being the Demon King's daughter... he completely disregarded it. After all, even secondary monsters could be considered the Demon King's offspring, and the blood flowing from the Demon King's wounds could turn into monsters to tear him apart. It was normal for someone to boast about their status just because they had some connection to the Demon King; he had seen plenty of people like that.

He decided to try to avoid provoking her or having conflicts with her in the future. After a brief moment of thought, he made his decision.

On the day he left the monastery, an unexpectedly large number of people came to see him off. The farmers, who had only recently become acquainted with him, were still not used to facing a legendary hero. After stammering for a long time, the leader finally placed a small bag of dried fruit and jerky in his hand into his palm, leaving Mirad somewhat amused and exasperated.

The reinforced houses seemed to be fine, it seemed he hadn't lost his old skills in repairing city walls. He looked with satisfaction at the newly renovated settlement behind the farmers... it seemed there was nothing else he could do to help.

He didn't refuse the bag of dried fruit and jerky, and bent down to thank the farmers for their support in a low voice. Just as he turned to leave, he seemed to remember something, and the road, once overgrown with weeds, was instantly cleared, the potholes were compacted, and horse manure was piled up to the side, making it look much cleaner and more convenient for travel.

So they set off.

Hiolitta followed behind him, humming a tune and carrying her luggage. She was still wearing that form-fitting nun's habit that covered her entire body, her silver hair wrapped in a headscarf.

If it weren't for the confrontation in the tomb and the fact that he didn't know the other person's true identity, Mirad would have been happy to discuss his understanding of the doctrines of the Lord God with this younger generation of believers. But now, he just wanted to ignore the other person's presence as much as possible, even though the melodious singing was lingering in his ears.

The sacred hymn, sung in her sweet voice, took on a strange and peculiar meaning. It took him a while to realize that the lyrics were being sung to him.

The poem seems to describe his participation in the battle against a high-ranking demon, but the way he swings his sword to cut the demon's horns, amplified by the succubus's voice, has a somewhat obscene connotation.

Mirad stopped, and the singing ceased.

He turned around and met those bewitching scarlet eyes, blinking with an innocent gleam.

“A few days ago, while reading history books, I noticed something amiss. After thinking about it for a few days, it seems to be a territorial issue.” “Oh?”

The girl tilted her head, and he only now noticed that she had small canine teeth when she smiled, which made him slightly uncomfortable.
"What did you discover? I'd love to hear the details."

"Although the author has been embellishing or avoiding the topic, I have never seen any record of the church reclaiming lost territory in this thousand-year history. In other words, the church has not taken back a single city or country that has been transformed into a demon realm."

He repeatedly took the book to the dean to verify the authenticity of its contents, and the answer he received was that it was genuine, an official publication supported and published by the church.

"Actually, some of them are countries that have become pro-monster countries, but it seems that the Church has unilaterally labeled them as traitors, and even trade can only be conducted indirectly through neutral countries."

She counted on her fingers the goods and resources that the Church Kingdom was unwilling to give up, ranging from food to luxury goods. These goods were transported from pro-demonic countries to neutral countries and then resold to the Church Kingdom. It was as if in this way, those goods were no longer considered filthy in the eyes of the Church.

"The reports of various battles, large and small, are rosy and pristine. On the surface, the battle lines appear to be in a protracted tug-of-war, but in reality, they have been constantly shrinking. Given the author's habit of writing in great detail about the changes in the dietary habits of the upper echelons of the Lescarte theocratic state, it is impossible that he would not write about the successful recovery of lost territory. Therefore, there is only one conclusion: from beginning to end, only the Church has lost both land and allies."

Battle reports may lie, but the front lines do not.

After a little mental deduction, one would realize that the range of human activity has shrunk considerably since then.

Leaving aside the alarmingly high frequency of epidemics, earthquakes, landslides, and tsunamis that caused "population migrations," the cities and countries mentioned in a brief mention of being lost never appeared again in subsequent records. This level of avoidance can be considered deliberate. Larger cities and countries cannot be covered up by natural disasters; so many are publicly known, and behind the scenes…

People over the past thousand years may have become accustomed to this situation, and those who are aware of it may choose to ignore it or be content with the status quo, but he cannot ignore the loopholes that are intended to be covered up between the lines.

Times have truly changed. His confrontation with Siolitta made him realize his own inadequacy, and his recent study of history books made him understand that this is no longer the era of bishops rolling up their sleeves, carrying holy crosses, and going to the battlefield to kill monsters.

The setting sun cast its last rays. The crimson twilight illuminated the bat wings that were slowly unfurling behind the nun. She removed her headscarf and stroked the newly grown whorls of hair.

"Oh dear, is it true that those involved are often blinded, while bystanders see things clearly? I'm truly surprised you realize this; you truly are the hero I admire. So, what are your thoughts?"

Having transformed back into a succubus, Siolitta completely shed the innocence and naivety of her nun days, radiating the youthful beauty of her delicate body. She was a poisonous fruit that seduced people of all genders and orientations, leading them to depravity without discrimination.
"I was somewhat disappointed and also somewhat annoyed."

Disappointment stems from insufficient strength, and anger arises from blinding oneself to the heavens.

"It sounds like you still have a sliver of hope in your heart."

She was clearly more comfortable in her succubus form, and once she was alone, she removed her disguise, her long, slender tail swaying and drawing graceful arcs through the air.

"After the White Wasteland is settled, I will go to Rescadeye, and then go to the Holy Land to pay homage to His Holiness the current Pope."

Mirad remained silent for a moment, letting the setting sun completely sink below the horizon.

“There, I expect to get a satisfactory answer. Everything I’ve been involved in and built shouldn’t be like this.”

(End of this chapter)