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

Chapter 6 New Crops

He remained silent for the rest of the journey, trying his best not to ponder the meaning of the succubus's chants. Under her deliberate manipulation, her melodious voice, with certain pronunciations, resembled the soft moans of a lover in bed. Whenever he relaxed, he had to slow down, and the succubus behind him would chuckle.

Mirad always traveled by the principle of "the stronger the brick, the faster the horse flies," using the physical enhancement brought by the Blessing of the Hero to speed along the road. Luckily, there was no one else on this road, otherwise the strong wind would have been enough to blow the carriage away... The road conditions of this forest path have improved a lot after this trip.

Mirand refused the horses the monastery offered. He was clearly faster, and besides, it was already a rare privilege for them to guard his tomb for a thousand years. He wasn't thick-skinned enough to refuse any more of their offerings.

At the current speed, it would take several weeks to a month to reach the White Wasteland along the main road, assuming no other disturbances along the way.

As night fell, he stopped and exhaled a breath of stale air. Before he could even say "Let's camp here," two more tents appeared beside Hiolitta, who had been floating behind him.

It's even a top-tier item with an extended internal space. Just how far has magic advanced to? Spatial creation magic can be used on everyday items... or is this just this succubus's personal interest?

He suppressed his doubts and, by the crackling of the campfire, reviewed the route to the wasteland once more.

"Although flying along doesn't feel tiring at all, Lord Mirad, you're not planning to just run all the way to the wasteland, are you?"

The tip of his tail pulled the map down, diverting his attention from the familiar yet unfamiliar terrain and roads to Hiolitta, who sat opposite him with her legs crossed, completely unconcerned about being exposed.

"I'm not very good at teleportation magic."

After a few seconds of hesitation, he chose to answer truthfully. It wasn't exactly a secret. As a top-tier strategic magic, teleportation magic was known to only a handful of people in his memory. Each activation often drained the magic power of the user and those around them, making it an extremely costly technique.

Moreover, the Demon King should not have fully awakened yet, so there is still plenty of time. At most, it is just... the ramblings of a sleeper before waking up. The newly born Familiars are currently wandering around collecting enough food for the Demon King, so that he won't eat it like a snack when he opens his eyes on an empty stomach.

"Hmph, what a coincidence. I have the ability to get you to your destination overnight."

"unnecessary."

As the succubus parted the tip of her tail that was pressing against the map, her body trembled slightly upon contact. Her face, flushed red by the flames, became even more crimson, startling Mirad.

So sensitive! It seems the tail is a weakness. Remember this valuable information; it will surely be useful next time.

"Cough, don't... don't be so heartless. I know you don't trust monsters, Lord Mirad, but what if I told you that there's a long-distance spatial teleportation array in the capital?"

Squirting her body, she went from sitting with her legs crossed to sitting upright with her legs tucked together, wrapping her retracted tail around her waist. Hiolitta's voice sounded somewhat unnatural.

The capital city. This should refer to Elcia, the capital of the current Kingdom of Visergran. Is there a direct spatial teleportation array there leading to the White Wasteland? If what the other party said is true, then the route will indeed need to be changed.

“I swear in the name of the God you believe in that I will never deceive you in the slightest.”

To make him believe it, he could even say something like that? Looking at the now composed and confident Siolitta, Mirand still couldn't figure out what she was thinking.

He prayed in his heart for the protection and justice of the Lord God, but his prayers, like those of the past few days, went unanswered, and he felt a vague sense of unease.

"Then let's go to Elsia first and take the route to the White Wasteland."

Adding a piece of firewood to the fire brought him some comfort. The Church of God still exists in the world, and heroes continue to receive blessings; God certainly wouldn't have any problems. He was probably just overthinking things.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the approaching sound of hooves. Hiolitta, who had somehow changed back into her nun's clothes, was now praying with her hands clasped and eyes closed. Two mares, each carrying a person, were on the horses. Neither the adult man nor the woman carried weapons and appeared quite tired.

Savoring the message conveyed by the earth, Mirad gazed towards the other side of the road. As the fire's flames weakened slightly, the couple who had been traveling through the night finally appeared before them.

“Oh… thank God! I told you that the fire was a campfire and not a will-o'-the-wisp. You lost your bet, Clayton.”

She dismounted and tied the rope to the roadside. The chestnut-haired woman wore a long, dark yellow linen robe for ease of movement, her boots were covered in mud, and a heavy little bag hung from her belt.

The other man, whether from travel fatigue or a lost bet, looked much more dejected. He straightened the insignia of the Vesegrain royal family on his chest, nodded to Mirad and Hyolitta, and spoke weakly.
"I never intended to bet with you. Anyone with eyes can see that's a campfire... cough, good evening, you two cultivators. As you can see, we are two poor souls who have taken the wrong path while traveling at night in a hurry. God above... could you please grant us permission to camp here as well?"

“I am Vincenta, an instructor at the Visegrain Agricultural Technology Association. This frail fellow is Clayton, the tax collector traveling with me. We are on official business in the nearby Walter Territory.”

Compared to the skinny Clayton, Visanna was noticeably more robust. She casually brushed aside the fallen leaves with her foot, then plopped down by the campfire and took out her water bag to drink heartily.

Perhaps it was the sense of security brought by Mirand's appearance in his priestly robes and Siolitta's nun attire that made Clayton's complexion rosier after he sat down.

"Where...where are you two?"

“I am Mirad, and this is… Siolitta. We’re traveling together to the capital, and we should be passing through Walter Territory. Forgive my ignorance, but I’m quite curious about what this lady’s so-called Agricultural Technology Association is.”

He looked at Vinsenna, who wiped the water from her lips and handed the water bag to Clayton.

"Well... nominally, it's a new agency established by His Majesty the King at the end of last year. Its main job is to travel all over the country to promote new crops and, incidentally, guide farmers on new farming methods."

"That's why you're traveling with the tax official."

Siolitta nodded gently, placing her hands respectfully on her lap, behaving like a proper nun. Vinsenna paused for a few seconds before responding.

"Ah...yes. Anyway, it's all on the way, and I have to travel around."

"New crops? New farming methods?"

"Yes, it's a new variety developed by the scholars at the academy. It grows fast, thrives in fertile soil, and produces fruit that is both filling and nutritious,"

She carefully opened the bag at her waist, revealing white tubers inside, with tender buds that looked as if they had just been picked.

"The new farming method is designed to complement this new crop. This crop is not well-suited to the three-field system, so it needs to be promoted before the spring planting season."

Vesena was quite excited when talking about this new crop, and she spent a long time explaining its benefits and advantages to Mirand. Mirand was a very good listener, attentively listening while also occasionally asking questions to give her ample feedback.

If it weren't for the increasingly loud snoring of Clayton, who was sleeping on the floor beside me, which was impossible to ignore, we probably could have chatted all night.

"In short, His Majesty the King will reduce or exempt taxes if people are willing to grow this, and there will be specialized grain merchants to purchase it at a fixed price during the harvest season. If it is widely promoted throughout the country, there will be no need to worry about poor harvests, hunger, or being unable to pay taxes!"

(End of this chapter)