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

Chapter 51 Fire in the Stone

The girl's voice melted into the heatwave, and Mirad felt the intense heat sweeping over him; the stray hairs on his forehead were already showing signs of being scorched and curled.

While channeling magic into the holy sword, he also maintained defensive magic to prevent himself from being roasted to a crisp during the preparation phase.

If we use the previous method of imprinting a transfer magic circle on a magical artifact again, we can indeed escape from this move, but that's all we can do.

He had made a promise with the girl that he couldn't accept dodging the attack, so from the beginning he never considered running away and instead focused entirely on defense and counterattack.

The sky seemed to be torn apart by the magic summoned by Kieslfir, creating a huge, hollow vortex large enough to cover the entire Elcia, with Mirad at its center.

Above Mirad's head, seemingly endless magical power was being forcibly compressed into a blazing white sphere the size of a fist. This was a creation of immense magical power that was countless times more condensed than the Gigantamax Shining Fireball!

The magic that should have been crimson after being stained with Kieslfeld's colors was compressed into a flawless white. This simple and unadorned white is impossible to ignore... It is not about the stereotypes that white represents, such as purity and simplicity. This white represents the death of all things, the white that annihilates all things!
Within the city of Elsia, both monsters and humans alike felt a sense of unease, gazing up at the bright daylight hanging overhead.

That was... a blow powerful enough to pierce the earth and destroy Visergran!
Upon seeing that sphere of light, as bright as day, everyone reached this conclusion simultaneously.

But no one panicked, no one screamed.

However, I am truly amazed that I was able to witness such a magnificent sight.

"Forged Relic Ex Caliber".

Faced with the orb of light that could reduce him to ashes, Mirad simply murmured the name of the ancient holy sword, as suggested by his old friend.

The initial suggestion of "Sword of Victory" was too flamboyant, and after much discussion among the team members, they decided to use the word "Glory".

The injected magic was finally sufficient, and the fake object he held in his hand had acquired a physical appearance.

The blade is as rough as rock strata, resembling some kind of primitive, chipped stone tool. Wielding such a blade would likely produce not a crisp, clear sound, but rather a dull, low rumble, like thunder.

A fake magical artifact can't compare to a real divine relic, but in Mirad's hands, the fake artifact, copied from memory, can still unleash nearly 60% of its original power.

A flash of crimson, not belonging to him, appeared on the dull blade. Mirad tilted the sword to the side, letting that crimson exist only in his own pupils.

He raised his sword high and nodded to Kieslfield.

The silence before the storm lasted for about half a second.

Then, a pure white incandescent light streaked across the sky.

Its speed surpasses thought, and its power defies common sense.

At that moment, the world in Mirad's eyes lost all color and sound, with only a white, blazing light symbolizing the end filling his entire field of vision.

Ultimate light and heat, the real sun.

The holy sword in his hand met the white light head-on. The magic power that Mirad had poured into it was now completely released without restraint. The golden torrent wrapped around the sword surged upwards, colliding with the destructive white light and bursting forth with magnificent brilliance.

The result of the collision was a draw, but Mirad's holy sword seemed to have a slight advantage!
Click.

However, even pure magic could not withstand the devastation of the extremely destructive white light. Fine cracks began to appear on the sword, a sign that it was on the verge of collapse!
The shockwave spread outwards, but he had no time to care about the situation in the city. He could only pray that Siolitta would not disappoint the little bit of expectation he had developed for the monster at this time.

Crack. The crack on the sword is widening.

The clash between pure white and gold has already painted half the sky with their colors, but unfortunately, the fake holy sword will completely collapse in less than three seconds.

Let's resolve this within three seconds.

His breathing gradually stabilized, and Mirad gave a powerful jerk of his wrists. The entire holy sword, constructed of magic, shattered instantly along the cracks, turning into thousands of magical fragments of varying sizes. He had deliberately relinquished his advantage in the fight!
Unobstructed, the white light was able to advance further. The protective magic on Mirad's chest skin lasted for less than a moment under the high temperature and heat before being broken. The skin was carbonized along with the magic, leaving large patches of hideous black on his chest, which were quickly pushed out and peeled off by the tender pink buds.

…He can still move. Although he has more than ten wounds of varying sizes on his body.

Despite his long absence and injuries, Mirad's movements were not slowed in the slightest. The magical fragments, under his guidance, attempted to regenerate, but this time the center of the regeneration was the pillar of destructive white light raging across his chest.

Kissfield stared in disbelief at the scene before her as the broken replica slowly pieced itself back together from the hilt, absorbing and sealing her most prized move into her own body!

The flashing, blazing white light was like a spark from a stone, its brilliance lasting only a moment before vanishing completely. But, but…!
...Where did the magic go?
Even if sealed within another magical creation, the magic that should have existed wouldn't simply vanish. Moreover, her Undying Heart Furnace White Flame Oath was a magic that had reached the pinnacle of destruction, completely disregarding other functions and solely focused on destruction. Even though the forged holy sword had developed cracks during the clash...

crack…?
Only then did Kissfield see clearly Mirad's hand holding the sword hilt. A crystal identical to the one on her chest connected the hilt to Mirad's palm. The crystal embedded in her palm was shining brightly, and the cracks covering the holy sword were the patterns she had engraved on her chest to help transfer and absorb magic power. Crimson had already crawled all over the sword along these patterns.

It turned out to be the case.

He learned and imitated her magic, allowing the holy sword to adapt to her magic in advance. Then, he used the holy sword as an external absorption organ to convert the magic she released back into his own use.

When did the planning begin?

However, the defeat was inevitable.

"Why does it feel like... Uncle, when you fight me, you always use secondhand stuff? The transfer magic circle is like that, and the reverse absorption magic is like that too. It's convenient to use it right away, but if it were someone else, they would definitely think you're looking down on them!"

Kissfield forced a smile with all her might. Constructing the Undying Heart Furnace White Flame Oath had taken too much of her energy. Although her magic power was still barely enough, she could no longer maintain the Fire Wings and Flame Boots.

With both types of magic—one providing power and the other adjusting direction—failing simultaneously, Kissfield plummeted to the ground, like a moth drawn to a flame, letting the air currents sweep over her body.

Could he really be so stupid as to fall to his death?

Uncle, please help me!

Suddenly, forty percent of the magic power in his body was lost, and his heart pumped the magic power at an extremely fast frequency to stimulate the circulation in his body.

I'm mentally prepared for death, but when it actually comes, I'm still afraid.

But... if he falls to his death, the old man will probably help with the funeral arrangements.

Ah, it seems I'm not wearing any clothes right now.

I originally chose this battlefield in the air, where no one else could see me, because I felt ashamed that my clothes had been burned off after I seized the magic furnace.

No way, dying naked or anything like that...

Kiesl's vision went black as she fell into a warm and reassuring embrace.

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(End of this chapter)