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

Chapter 54 Juniors and Seniors (Part 2)
"Your story didn't cause much of a stir, since people had no idea what I was fighting,"

The apple, its skin wrinkled from being stored in a cellar all winter, floated before Mirand. Its spiral-shaped skin, like a ribbon, gently detached. "The royal family should be aware of your attitude."

She thanked him in a muffled voice and took the apple. Kissfield took a small bite of the flesh; it was soft and even a little powdery… the kind of cheap taste she was used to. “Hmm, they didn’t want to take in this unstable fireball that could explode at any moment, but they were also afraid of angering me. They treated me to good food and drinks, didn’t use monitoring magic to avoid upsetting me, avoided direct contact with me, and even gave me the latest season’s cosmetics… wow, I did my best to resist their temptation.”

With a drop of juice on her lips, she casually licked it off with the tip of her tongue. "How's the situation on Reskateyer's side? Although the old men in the Elder Council and Northculim don't get along with the old woman, they won't give up on making a fuss about her death. But I've noticed things are pretty peaceful on the streets these past few days... Uncle, you stepped in?"

"The day before yesterday, I attended a royal party."

…and displayed a simulated holy sword and the blessing of the hero. Although these things cannot directly prove Mirad's sainthood, his feat of shooting down what people call the "Red Star" makes him a saint if not.

His willingness to attend in an elaborate, floor-length robe, and to offer his blessings to the elderly king, was a clear indication of his stance.

At this moment, the attitude of a living saint towards Vesegrahn was at least neutral to friendly, and after the news was released, the aggressive negotiating tone of Rescadeye did soften a lot.

Of course, there were still plenty of spies and assassins secretly sent to Elsia to gather information. Eugene and Klinshid had been working overtime these past few days and now they had bags under their eyes and dark circles.

"No wonder you look a bit haggard, sir. You've been rushing around attending boring banquets... Social activities are tiring, aren't they? Especially when there are lots of old folks around..."

"Am I really that haggard?"

Mirand admitted that he had indeed attended quite a few banquets in the past few days, and realized once again that so-called high society had not changed much over the years.

"Yes, my skin looks a bit dull. But maybe it's a combination of lighting and psychological factors? One of the few drawbacks of this room is the poor lighting; it's all thanks to the magic lamp."

Kissfield put down the fruit pit, leaned closer to Mirad, and carefully examined the man's face. She was completely unaware that she was only dressed in a blanket, and the way she leaned forward on the bed caused her snowy breasts to sag naturally, trembling like jelly.

"...I didn't realize! By the way, uncle, your skin is so smooth and delicate. How do you usually take care of it...? Even if you've been dead for a thousand years, it's still so moisturized...?"

Mirad felt it necessary to remind Kissfield to be mindful of her fluctuating sense of distance at this time.

So he coughed lightly, and without changing his expression, stopped Kissfield's hands, which were about to reach for her face, and pressed her shoulders back down.

"Uncle, are you shy? Really? You're a saint who's lived for so long!"

These words, coming from Kieslfield's cheeks which were flushed as if she were slightly tipsy, were utterly unconvincing.

This child, does she have to show off her competitive nature even in a place like this?

He was clearly so ashamed he wanted to disappear, but he still stubbornly criticized him.

I don't know if it's good or bad.

"In short, although Rescateyer labeled your former superior as a defector, his attitude towards you is ambiguous."

In such a place, it's best to play dumb and not expose the other party. Mirad reacted quickly with his skillful social experience!

As expected, seeing that she didn't get the response she wanted, Kiesliffe pouted and sat calmly on the bed. "Because I'm very strong. In the country, only that little girl Wilmarina can compare to me. If a hero like me were left abroad, the old men in the Senate would probably be worried sick."

"So, what's your attitude?" Although if Kieslfeld were willing to give up her Lescarte nationality and join Vesegrand, the first person who wouldn't want to take on this hot potato would be Vesegrand herself.

But this is not something the Visegrand royal family can decide; her own attitude is crucial.

As a hero, and a top-tier hero at that, she truly has the qualifications and ability to overturn the table and cause a ruckus.

...and almost did it.

"I want to go back to Rescadeye."

Kissfield didn't think about it for long. She had thought about this issue many times over the past few days and had already made up her mind.

"...The killing of high-ranking officials is forbidden."

"Uh... kill one or two?"

"Neither."

"You rigid old man! Nobody cares if one or two priests or priests die!"

She kept a straight face, but Kissfield's feigned anger didn't last long. Rather, the moment she saw the helpless expression on the man's face, her composure crumbled, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but curl upwards.

“I know, Uncle. I wasn’t planning on killing anyone anyway. After all, you said you’d be my guide and help me change Rescadeye. So, I was thinking of going back to that place first to make sure I was fully prepared to welcome you.”

“I did say that,” Mirand smiled with relief, “but if you return to Rescueye, you’ll inevitably face interrogation, investigation, and surveillance, you know that. Can you suppress your anger?”

"...I'll try my best?"

Hearing Kissfield's hesitant and uncertain answer, Mirand's relieved smile froze.

"I can handle it, trust me, uncle. I've been through so many years. And now that I'm so capable, what can they do to me? At most, they can make me sit on the sidelines and give me a sinecure."

Kissfield smiled brightly, and seeing her harmless smile, Mirall didn't know what to say. He just sighed, "It's good that you can keep your distance... Give me your hand, I'll give you a physical examination."

With a nod, Kissfield obediently placed her hand in Mirad's palm.

Without those strange and fancy nail art designs, Kieslfir's fair and slender fingers did look much better. Mirad couldn't understand how nail art, such an inconvenient decoration that hindered daily life and even combat, had become so popular on a continent a thousand years later.

"Speaking of which, if you are a resurrected saint, then are those love stories between you and that noble and devout elf real?"

Kissfield's eyes gleamed with gossip, "The one you gave the Holy Sword to, is she the one you like, Uncle?"

...?
Mirad, who was just about to use magic to check on Kissfield's physical condition, looked up blankly.

　This is the second chapter today! Please give me some recommendation tickets, monthly tickets, and add it to your favorites!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)