The Handbook for Completing Demi-Human Girls

The night sky over the Southern Continent remained as starry as ever; the canopy of the Milky Way, set against the sparse clouds of the night, appeared incredibly magnificent to the eye.

From the perspective of living beings gazing up from below, the firmament looked like a black disk constantly revolving with the stars, showcasing the profound mystery of all things returning to their end.

This was not the first time Fisher had seen such a night. In the past, when he drove the carriage touring the Southern Continent with Raphaela and her group of Dragonewts, he could see such a beautiful night every evening.

Now that Raphaela was not by his side, only Eimhart accompanied him in stargazing.

Well, despite the excellent time and scenery, this guy had absolutely no intention of appreciating it.

In the wilderness, Fisher used gathered dead branches to build a simple campfire, continuously tossing in wood he had split into multiple segments. Nights in the Southern Continent were cold; although as a Mythic Rank existence he felt nothing, he was, after all, bringing along a true human girl, and this fire was prepared for her.

Next to him, Eimhart was lying sprawled on the sandy ground, reviewing who knew what. The pages within his belly flipped continuously, flashing strings of golden light. He was still muttering incomprehensible things like "That thousand-times-cursed Baimon" or "She's definitely got her eye on us."

Just like when they were in the Northern Border, after experiencing the earlier events, Eimhart's wariness towards Baimon—meaning Helaire—surged relentlessly. He even began to suspect that Baimon was hiding somewhere in this wilderness, secretly observing their every move.

Meanwhile, Fisher retrieved the Fluid Sword from his coat, attempting to make it perk up again.

Ever since being contaminated by Chaos in the Ideal State, the Fluid Sword had become exceptionally weak and flaccid, never rising again. No matter how Fisher called upon it, it was to no avail, as if it had been played to breaking point by Chaos.

Truth be told, Fisher quite liked this item gifted by Ramastia. It was incredibly handy to use in almost all scenarios outside of inscribing magic.

"Tap, tap~"

He called upon it once more. After receiving no response, Fisher had no choice but to give up.

Perhaps Jasmine, the Whale-kin who could communicate with Ramastia, would know what to do. It was just unknown where in the ocean she was sleeping right now. That would have to wait until an opportunity to bump into her arose later.

The top priority right now was to quickly head towards Raphaela's side in the south of the Southern Continent.

"Fisher, come here quickly. Come here quickly, I have something to tell you."

Just as Fisher was making his calculations, Eimhart's calling abruptly came from beside him, making Fisher turn his head involuntarily.

"What is it?"

"Come over here quickly."

Resigned, Fisher could only get up and walk over. It was only then that he noticed this guy still had a branch in his mouth, which he only now spat out. It seemed he had just been using it to write something.

By the firelight, Fisher looked down and saw lines of neat Naris text, along with a title:

"Defensive Strategy Against Baimon!!!"

Followed by three exclamation marks for emphasis.

"What is this?"

"This is the guiding strategy for our upcoming actions!"

Eimhart spoke with conviction, floating back onto Fisher's shoulder as he continued,

"The guy inside the factory who wanted to intercept us leaving was definitely a Mythic Rank existence, and furthermore belonged to the Naris faction... or rather, temporarily belonged to the Naris faction. You have no objections, right?"

"None."

"Good. Based on the currently known factors of [You recklessly dared to hook up with Baimon, and Baimon has set her sights on you] and [This Baimon person is extremely evil, terrifying, and powerful], I propose a fundamental principle, which is: [Any bizarre things we encounter currently have an absolute one hundred percent connection to Baimon]!"

"..."

"Naris is a human nation, after all! To possess these in just a few short years—that's Mythic Rank. Even in the era we traveled back to, only those two types of Mythical Species had such existences, yet now the Naris military has one. Even if there's a miniscule probability that Naris's luck exploded and someone among the humans advanced to Mythic Rank on their own, we must treat all this as Baimon's conspiracy!"

Eimhart continued to analyze righteously, saying,

"Moreover, I'd rather believe that Empress Elizabeth suddenly changed her disposition and no longer cares about your messy affairs with other ladies than believe humans suddenly went super saiyan and a Mythic Rank popped up. Therefore, assuming all this is Baimon's conspiracy, Fisher, you must be careful! This guy most enjoys masquerading as existences where you can't spot any flaws to entice you, coaxing you into the Abyss! Anyone you encounter could be her shadow, including those ladies you share a deep relationship with. Understand?

"So for the remainder of our journey, we can only trust each other! Then, everyone you meet next might be Baimon; anything they say to you might be what Baimon wants you to do. Only by doing this can we maximally avoid Baimon's influence... Although it feels like the effect is limited, it's better than nothing. You wouldn't want the lady lying next to you to suddenly turn into that guy, right? Right, Fisher?"

Hmm...

To be honest, although he also had many questions he wanted to ask Helaire, he seemed not to genuinely mind her lying beside him, because deeper parts of himself had already...

"Smack, smack, smack!"

Seeing Fisher's unresponsive demeanor, Eimhart grew furious, feeling as if he had been betrayed. He hastily used his book body to ram into Fisher's head.

"You guy! You lower-body-driven guy! Wake up quickly! You cannot let that Baimon brainwash you, otherwise you will absolutely end up very, very miserable!"

Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Fisher caught him, then nodded and said,

"I know. Before clarifying everything, I will remain vigilant and keep my guard up against her."

"Clarifying it isn't enough either!! That guy is a terrifying liar. You absolutely cannot uncover her lies and truths. Words that might entirely be lies you might take as truth, or words that might entirely be truth you might scoff at. Regardless, as long as you listen to her words, you will fall into agony!"

For some reason, Fisher suddenly recalled the sight of Helaire on the verge of death in the ocean of Chaos back then. She squinted her eyes and, before being swallowed, used all her might to raise the Holy Grail she had gone through great lengths to snatch, exorcising death for his sake...

Could that have also been deceiving him, just like how she told him Cupid was an Angel symbolizing love?

Whether it was a deception or not could temporarily be cast to the back of his mind. What surprised Fisher the most was that when he hypothesized in his heart that Helaire might be deceiving him, he didn't seem to feel that much resistance?

Could he have been infected by that evil Angel, lowering his baseline of tolerance towards her?

"Ugh..."

It was at this moment that Ingrid, who Fisher had placed on the grass nearby to rest, slightly fluttered her eyelashes.

She covered her face, then with great difficulty forced her eyes open a fraction, as if waking up from a nightmare. But upon opening her eyes, the only things she saw were a sky full of stars and a warm fire nearby... Oh, and that uncle who didn't look human.

"You're awake?"

"I... hiss... Where is this?"

"The wilderness."

Fisher was forced to interrupt his thoughts. He turned his expressionless face back and addressed the intern journalist,

"You fainted earlier, and several bones in your body fractured. I've reconnected them for you, so you should be roughly fine now."

On his shoulder, Eimhart also turned to look at her, but for some reason, Ingrid felt the latter's singular eye carried a bizarre wariness and scrutiny, as if worried she was some monster wearing human skin.

Hey, the uncle whose shoulder you're standing on is clearly the monster here, okay? Could it be that to you, a battered book, there's something even more terrifying than this uncle?

Feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny, Ingrid felt her body. Fortunately, during this movement, she no longer felt the pain of twisted bones.

She finally let out a sigh of relief, then thanked Fisher,

"Thank you, Uncle... Right! Where's my camera!?"

"Beside you."

Ingrid looked in the direction Fisher pointed and hurriedly picked up the camera that looked incredibly precious from the ground, checking the photos taken inside.

"Great, great, I managed to capture everything inside."

Seeing her excitement, Fisher couldn't help but pour a bucket of cold water on her, saying,

"While I don't really want to dampen your current excitement, it would be best if you didn't take the things you photographed earlier back to the newspaper in Schwari to publish. You saw it as well; both the security Naris equipped that factory with and the contents produced indicate that place is critical to Naris and possesses a very high security classification. If you go back and publish its contents, it will inevitably cause an uproar across the West Continent, and at that time, it might invite lethal disaster upon you..."

The more Ingrid listened, the more she lowered her head like a severely beaten quail. She puffed her cheeks but didn't say anything to refute, because she still had a brain in her head and knew what Fisher said was correct.

She seemed to feel a bit cold, so she moved closer to the campfire Fisher had started, and also put the beret she had just taken off back on. Seeing this, Eimhart hurriedly floated up and landed on the other shoulder further away from Ingrid, continuing to size her up.

Stare...

Ingrid warmed herself by the fire, looked down at the camera, then looked at Fisher beside her, and said,

"Uncle, could it be... could it be that you're some cyborg that escaped from Naris? And that the person inside the factory earlier was also a cyborg, which is why the fight between you two was so... well, exaggerated?"

"I am not; I am a normal human."

"Right, right..."

Ingrid curled her lip with a look of obvious disbelief, but still nodded politely.

But a moment later, she abruptly asked,

"Hey, Uncle, then can I report on you? Coincidentally, I also took a few photos of you."

"Whatever you..."

Fisher originally didn't want to bother, but after carefully considering it, if Elizabeth saw it, it would be a disaster.

From her perspective, he had clearly promised to return to Naris four and a half years ago, yet not only had there been no news whatsoever for so long, but upon showing up, he appeared in the Southern Continent, fooling around who knows where...

Currently, before he decided to return to Naris, his whereabouts absolutely could not be exposed to Elizabeth's field of vision. Once discovered, the trouble would be enormous.

Thinking of this, he suddenly wisely changed his tune,

"No, it would be best if you didn't do that."

"Ha, is it because you're a fugitive from Naris? But you're truly amazing, sigh. Those Naris people can't do anything to you at all. By publishing it in our Schwari newspapers, nobody should pay attention to you... probably."

"It has nothing to do with that. I would be fine, but similarly, you would still face lethal disaster."

"For real?! Is news about you, Uncle, this dangerous?"

Fisher looked at her expressionlessly, seemingly indicating his stance. Eimhart on his shoulder also curled his non-existent lip and muttered to her softly,

"Although this guy usually likes to coax ladies, you'd better listen to him this time. If you leak his information, the people coming from the five lakes and four seas to hunt you down could line up from the Southern Continent all the way to the Northern Border. I'm not joking."

While speaking, Eimhart surveyed the expression on Ingrid's face, but apart from unwillingness, he discovered nothing.

After hesitating for a moment, Ingrid raised her camera at him again. But before she could snap a photo, Eimhart had already alertly floated behind Fisher, completely shielding himself.

"What... what are you doing now?!"

Ingrid looked at Eimhart and said,

"C...can I do a report on you, Mr. Book? A talking book is simply the most perfect subject matter."

"No, no, no!"

Quite disappointed, Ingrid lowered the camera in her hand and pouted,

"Sigh, how could it be like this..."

Seeing her disappointed yet not overly dejected appearance, Fisher couldn't help but ask,

"Are you quite set on reporting something?"

"Of course, this is a journalist's job, alright? Bringing news from the Southern Continent—which is thousands of miles away from the West Continent—back accurately, letting the people there use my camera to know what happened here and make corresponding judgments. The Southern Continent branch office is an important task entrusted to me by my editor. He values me highly!"

"You mean, your editor dispatched you here, and the specific mission is to come photograph things related to Naris, similar to the locked-down factory earlier?"

"That's not it either. This is something I wanted to photograph myself. Nothing happens at the newspaper office in Dragon Court City all day; every day is just sitting around drinking coffee and resting... I sneaked out on my own initiative."

Looking at her defeated appearance, Fisher didn't speak up to burst her bubble that her higher-up editor had likely shelved her. He only said,

"...That's alright too."

A journalism graduate from the Schwali Empress Academy actually being sent to serve as an intern journalist in the Southern Continent—a place where Naris called the shots and the war wasn't even over yet—no matter how one thought about it, it was a bad hand dealt to her. Yet she actually felt this was a sign of being highly valued.

However, thinking of the entity that attacked earlier—the one who could be of the Mythic Rank—Fisher's eyes couldn't help but flash with an odd glint.

Today, the Saint-Nazareth ruled by Elizabeth had completely transformed into a mystery. Fisher didn't even know what exactly that side had experienced; he could only search for possible answers from currently known clues.

Fisher remembered the geographical locations of the Southern Continent. He had been here previously, so he also knew how to travel south. He would set off early tomorrow morning.

Thus, he scanned the young girl's condition once more. After confirming she was fine, he stood up and said,

"Rest. First thing tomorrow morning, I will take you to the nearest city, and then we're even."

"Ah, but everything I photographed is useless..."

"That's not my concern."

"How can it be like this..."

"Then thank you for buying me a meal."

Fisher prepared to lie down and rest, not covering himself with anything, feeling quite like he was using the earth as his bed and the sky as his blanket. Ingrid sat by the fire, glanced at Fisher, propped her chin on her hand, and said,

"Where is Uncle going next?"

"None of..."

Fisher originally had no intention to answer, but Eimhart beside him, observing her, suddenly spoke up,

"We are going south to the 'False Dragon Court' you speak of."

Fisher shot a look at Eimhart beside him, completely clueless as to what he was doing, but the latter merely continued staring fixedly at Ingrid before him.

"Great! Then can Uncle take me along? If I can capture the affairs inside the False Dragon Court and bring them back, that's also a great option, this way..."

Hearing that she wanted to set off with their group, Eimhart wore an "I knew it" expression, gnashing his teeth as he spun and launched himself at Ingrid's head.

"Hah! Baimon! You've revealed a flaw!"

Caught off guard, Ingrid was knocked over by him directly. But seeing her fall, Eimhart fought even more bravely, as if he had already punctured Baimon's loathsome conspiracy. While ramming her, he yelled loudly,

"That place is so dangerous for humans! And yet you, a human little girl, still dare to go?! And you say you're not Baimon?!"

"Eh, eh, eh? But isn't Uncle very strong?"

"Oh? You take me for a pig? Why would Fisher help you? If a random little girl wasn't missing a screw in the head, how could she make such a request? Isn't it because you're used to it? Used to being in an intimate relationship with Fisher?! Hahaha! Discovered by your Grandpa Book!"

"Hah?! I don't even like Uncle's type. I like ones younger than me, alright?! What are you talking abo—stop hitting me!!"

Ingrid covered her head with one hand and launched a fierce counter-attack with the other. In an instant, one book and one girl were locked in an unending scramble, just like children fighting.

"Enough! I mean, what even is a Baimon, and why did you suddenly fly over and hit me?!"

Ingrid yelled through gritted teeth, frightening Eimhart so much he hastily shrank back into Fisher's coat, muttering to Fisher repeatedly,

"Quick, Fisher! She's about to shed her disguise! Let's escape quickly!"

Fisher looked wordlessly at Ingrid, who was lying sideways on the ground, clutching her head. After waiting for quite a while, she showed no further reaction.

If it weren't for the fact that their scuffle was so trivial, simply resembling children pecking at each other, Fisher wouldn't have done nothing.

He looked at Eimhart in his coat and couldn't help but ask,

"Do you have any means to expose Helaire's disguise?"

"...No. Baimon is, after all, an Eighteenth Tier Demon God. Disguises aren't that easy to expose. Or you could beat her alternate persona to death, that way we might, probably, maybe... um, be able to tell?"

"..."

Fisher tapped the head hiding in his coat, knocking some sense back into the overly-reactive Eimhart.

Then he looked at Ingrid, who was sitting up ahead clutching her head, and told her,

"We cannot take you along with us. The plan remains as I stated earlier. You can try reporting on something else, although I think returning to the newspaper office to rest would be better for you."

"Fine, fine, if I can't go, I won't go. Why did you hit me and call me some... Baimon? I'm firmly on the payroll, okay? A proper journalist from Schwari!"

Ingrid shot a vicious glare at Eimhart, but Eimhart merely stuck his tongue out at her, making her so angry she almost smashed him with her camera.

Fortunately, before that could happen, Fisher laid down on the ground further away with the now-soothed Eimhart, leaving the spot next to the fire for her, along with some animal furs and leaves gathered from the wild.

This was exactly as expected. Fisher never intended to take this woman he had only known for a day with him, nor was there any need to.

Even excluding the issue of Helaire, Fisher would not accrue any further debts forged by his greed. He still had many indebted ladies he hadn't made amends to. No matter what, it was time to restrain himself. Besides, simply bringing her along, he wouldn't even know how to explain it to Raphaela.

Following Fisher's strategy, he planned to proceed gradually, slowly handling these conflicts, resolving them lady by lady. He absolutely could not let them meet without any groundwork laid, otherwise, without Renee present, it truly would result in an intense and explosive encounter, brewing a massive disaster...

Fisher cradled the back of his head and gazed at the starry sky, unable to sleep for a very long time. Upon his chest, the perfectly square Eimhart also lay there looking at the sky, occasionally glancing at Ingrid, who had already curled up within the furs and branches in the distance.

A long while later, noticing Fisher hadn't closed his eyes to rest and was pondering something unknown, he spoke up and asked,

"Don't you need to rest? This is fine too; we can guard against that guy. If she is Baimon, she might sneakily carry you away at night. How could I, a mere book, stop her... Right, I completely forgot to ask, how did you enter the Mythic Rank?"

"Didn't you say earlier that Archangel Gabriel brought you to observe me when we were above the Ideal State? That was when I entered the Mythic Rank, and you didn't know?"

"I'm not watching you every single second! Besides, seeing you together with that guy, looking completely oblivious as you drowned in the land of tenderness, gave me heartache. I almost straight-up died in mommy's arms!"

Hearing that form of address, Fisher couldn't help but look down at him and ask,

"...Do you think Gabriel is the creator you've been looking for?"

"I don't know either, but I think she is. Even if she isn't, it doesn't matter anymore... I've previously lost my memories twice. Once was when the Sanctuary collapsed. I lost all my memories—where I came from, who made me, what I was supposed to do. The other time was in the Abyss of the Demon Dynasty. I lost a lot of knowledge I acquired and forgot the things I saw in the Abyss. But no matter which time, it was related to that guy Baimon!"

Fisher patted his book cover, then answered Eimhart's earlier question,

"My advancement to the Mythic Rank was aided by Helaire."

Eimhart looked up at him in shock. After pouting and brainstorming for quite a while, he continued conjecturing Baimon with the greatest malice,

"Hah, then she must definitely have some ulterior motive regarding you. It's impossible that she genuinely wanted to help you. She is absolutely not that kind of person... Hmmm, she's probably planning to carve out your kidneys for research!"

"What kind of theory is that... Let's just avoid talking about her. Get some rest, Eimhart."

"Yeah, good night..."

Eimhart rolled over, turning the side with the single eye toward Fisher. Just as he was getting ready to rest, he looked at Fisher again and asked,

"What about you? Not resting?"

"I will rest later."

"What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know either. I'm probably not thinking about anything."

"Hah, anyone doing anything definitely has a corresponding purpose and reason. Cut it out. You're definitely thinking about something. Could it be you want the Great Book Viscount to guess?"

Fisher smiled faintly, looked down at him, then gazed at the night sky, and spoke frankly,

"...I just suddenly felt a bit surprised. I thought I would return to the time I originally left, or at least not stray too far from it. Yet I didn't expect to jump straight to four and a half years later, with so many changes having occurred.

"Eimhart, honestly, I entered the Mythic Rank through a method unaccepted by the Rules, which is Chaos. I differ from ordinary Mythic Ranks. I must bear the risk of madness like Erwind and the others did. Perhaps you can't sense it now, but in the future as I continue walking this path, I might turn into an inhuman monster.

"And to tell the truth, my goal for choosing to enter the Mythic Rank wasn't anything else but wanting to secure a bit of a safeguard and the confidence to resolve issues I might face in the future. For example, Elizabeth. If I were as before, I would still be unable to stop her from hurting others and herself. So, I took a risk and used Chaos to enter the Mythic Rank, wanting to make it easier for me to resolve conflicts... Originally, I was thinking that after resolving all of this, I'd go somewhere to be a teaching professor."

Eimhart laid on his stomach looking at him, then chimed in,

"Yet returning after just one day, the conflicts you initially thought could be easily resolved using the Mythic Rank still seem so complex. For example, that red Dragon-kin who was utterly routed, those Cardinals, that Mythic Rank existence popping out of nowhere?"

"Not entirely. I've never feared the difficulties encountered, not even the time when Jasmine and I were isolated and without help using the single-leaf boat to escape Naris."

"Then are you worried about when you will have an end as you envisioned? But in that case, why did you leave Elizabeth back then? If you hadn't left her, today you would be the Empress's Prince Consort, and still be the esteemed genius professor in Naris you were in the past. Isn't that halo enough?"

Fisher looked down at Eimhart, inevitably saying,

"If that were the case, we might have never crossed paths in the first place, Eimhart."

Eimhart floated up, looked at Fisher with his single eye, and enunciated each word clearly,

"That's the crux of the problem, Fisher..."

"If you hadn't left Elizabeth from the very beginning and hadn't undergone this difficult ascension to today, then you perhaps wouldn't worry about Ranks, those ladies, and the terrifying Baimon as you do now. But then again, at that time, would you not have faced other issues? Like the slander of your fellow humans, the humiliation from the Godlin Royal Family and Elizabeth's siblings... These problems might seem like a piece of cake to you today after your ascension and entering the Mythic Rank."

"However, without you, the conflict between that red Dragon-kin and humanity would still be on the verge of outbreak. Without you, Jasmine's aunt would still have been killed, and Jasmine would still hate humans and seek revenge against them. Without you, the Base of the Phoenix Race would still descend, and it's highly likely the entire world would be destroyed by that Base. Without you, Baimon would still exist; she'd still deceive many other people, hurt other people... Back then, you didn't have a broad enough perspective to see them only because you hadn't climbed high enough, but that didn't mean they didn't exist."

"It's the same now. We always think there will be a shore where we can escape the sea of suffering if we swim forward with all our might. But from start to finish, we will always be in the sea. Because after your ascension, although you break free from the past problems, you encounter new problems you've never spotted before. Even those deities who transcended their Ranks and created this world fret endlessly due to guarding against Chaos, let alone you, who has just entered the Mythic Rank."

"People are always adept at ignoring what they have gained, yet exceptionally good at fixating on what they have given up and what they lack. You've already solved many problems and won the hearts of those ladies; you must cherish them and pay the price. Although I usually hope they stab you, at least you deal with each lady earnestly... You're just too greedy."

"Don't tell me you assume even under ideal conditions, when you temporarily turn their hostility into jade-and-silk harmony and have everyone happily coexisting without quarrels, everything will be smooth sailing forever? Perhaps one day in the future, just because you focused a bit more on someone and gave less attention to someone else, conflicts will erupt anew. Therefore, since you want it all, brace yourself and prepare for unending struggles!"

Eimhart stood on Fisher's chest, seeing him staring blankly. Disappointed that he hadn't met expectations, he rammed his head against Fisher's, confirming once more,

"Do you hear me, Fisher?!"

"...I'm just a bit surprised that you're capable of saying such things."

Fisher smiled faintly. While not completely taken aback, he sincerely praised the Eimhart before him.

It wasn't that he didn't know these principles, it was just that sometimes, even if you know, you will still harbor doubt and feel exhausted. In those moments, what many need is simply comfort and support.

From Fisher's viewpoint, Eimhart's words were support and comfort, which was why he spoke as such.

"Hmph, of course. I am the Great Book Viscount, Eimhart!"

"You are right."

To this, Fisher merely smiled and didn't deny it, while Eimhart didn't mind Fisher's perfunctory reaction.

He was practically floating on cloud nine from Fisher's praise, but a couple of boastful sentences later, he lay back completely motionless in Fisher's clothes.

Perhaps ramming Ingrid with his head earlier had exhausted him, or perhaps he was also simply fatigued because he had only just returned.

Nestling inside Fisher's coat, he suddenly muttered in a muffled voice,

"If you feel you need some time to prepare now, resting a bit in the Southern Continent wouldn't be bad. You can face the risk of being stabbed by other ladies a bit later."

Fisher patted his back cover, shook his head, and replied,

"Let's not. If we don't go to Raphaela's side soon, her head will be smashed by Elizabeth's army. And she is the lady I've been separated from the longest; I miss her dearly."

"Yeah, that is true... Oh, but thinking about it carefully, regarding the Transferred Person you were with in the Sanctuary earlier, your relationship with her seems quite good too."

"That's true. She is a student I imparted magic to."

"Then objectively speaking, from Raphaela's perspective, you were only separated for less than six years. But in the eyes of that little Transferred Person, haven't you been separated for several thousand years?"

"...That's how it is."

Fisher's eyes flickered, then he closed them, adding another sentence,

"The same goes for Helaire."

"C-C-Could you please just not bring her up?!"

"No."

"Your mom..."

Eimhart's muffled voice sounded out, yet he made no further movement. Along with the newly serene Fisher, they drifted into a gentle sleep, readying themselves for the myriad challenges ahead.