by Kumo Kagyu
“Goblins, eh…?”
The equipment shop attached to the Guild was busy today, as it was almost every day. Goblin Slayer had boldly stridden in just after noon. From the grime and the smell that followed him, it was obvious he had come straight from an adventure.
“Urgh,” griped an adventurer with a spear, seeming to have recognized Goblin Slayer, who ignored him.
“I need to restock,” he announced.
So far, so typical—it was exactly how he had acted ever since becoming an adventurer. The craftsman was used to it by now.
Torch, herbs, salves, antidotes, wedges and other small items, knives and defensive equipment.
That’s the shopping list of a ranger or a scout, not a warrior.
He had even come in once before requesting a bow and arrows. When the craftsman asked if he knew how to use them, the answer had been “More or less.”
The old man had made a mental note that this visitor was as clever as he was eccentric.
What came next was different from usual.
Reaching into his item pouch to pay, the young man suddenly seemed to recall something and had produced the object in question.
The ring.
A circle of metal set with a gemstone that glittered as if on fire.
No—not as if on fire. Something inside the gem was actually burning.
“Will you buy it from me?”
He had set it on the countertop with such indifference. The shopkeeper had picked it up, fixing a jeweler’s glass to one eye and taking a long, careful look. Finally, he shook his head.
“Sorry, can’t buy it from ya.”
Then came that look and the pointed question. The old man folded his arms and grunted thoughtfully, tapping his finger rhythmically on the counter.
“No question that ring’s magical, but it’s dangerous to handle before it’s been identified.”
“Can you identify it?”
“I can, but it’s a pain.”
The craftsman reached over and tapped a wooden sign hanging nearby. In several different writing systems it read WEAPONS & ARMOR BOUGHT AND SOLD. ITEMS IDENTIFIED—HALF PURCHASE PRICE. The inscription was accompanied by a series of pictures for the benefit of the illiterate. When dealing with adventurers, it was important to be accessible and, ideally, unflappable.
“Now, some people think that’s highway robbery, but a man deserves to be compensated for his skills. No discounts.”
“I see.” Goblin Slayer looked pitiful even to the craftsman, the person who had made his gear. The adventurer seemed to be well enough aware that some derided him as filthy and strange.
An enchanted ring would demand a certain price. Would a still-green dungeon-diver like him be able to pay it…?
“D’you have the money?”
“I do,” he replied, evoking an impressed “Ho” from the craftsman.
“Been saving up, have you?”
“Yes. I’ve been putting away the rewards from goblin hunting.”
The old man nodded. Come to think of it, he’d heard this adventurer took quests relentlessly.
“But,” Goblin Slayer added soberly, “I have plans for it. If the price is too high, I can’t pay.”
Them’s the breaks, eh?
“S’pose you could always try just putting it on.”
“I was sternly warned never to put on a strange ring.”
“And a wise warning it was.” Then the craftsman let out a long, deep breath, as though he had only just now thought of something. “…Hrm, that’s right.”
What of it? He was old enough now. He could show a little kindness toward some young pup once in a while if he wanted.
“There might be some other adventurer who can identify it. Maybe ask around, eh?”
“…Other adventurers,” Goblin Slayer murmured shortly, then he swept up the ring, flung it back in his bag, and nodded. “Understood.”
“I wonder if you do,” the old man said from behind him as he strode out of the room.
It was a fair question—and indeed, there was something about this the young man hadn’t yet grasped.
Oh, he understood well enough that the ring had to be identified before he could sell it, and that he could ask another adventurer to evaluate the thing for him. The problem was…
“Hmm.”
Goblin Slayer entered the Guild waiting area, taking in all the adventurers around him. But every single one of them seemed to act as if he weren’t there.
They weren’t exactly avoiding him, per se. But neither was he getting any encouraging looks. Instead, many a suspicious glance was directed at this young man notorious for his eccentric habit of hunting nothing but goblins.
In a word, he received no more interest than any other grimy novice.
That was all they took him for. And that was the problem.
“Identification.”
Who here would be able to help him with that task? He didn’t have the slightest idea what sorts of jobs the other adventurers even did.
Goblin Slayer grunted softly and went to sit on a bench in a corner of the waiting area.
It was the bench farthest from the door. If what you wanted was first pick of the quests, it was the worst possible place to be, but he knew he didn’t have to hurry; the goblin quests would still be there. He thought it would be good to sit down here, where he would be out of the way of the other adventurers.
With a quick motion, Goblin Slayer pulled the ring back out of his bag and held it up to the window light. He could just see the other adventurers going about their business at the Guild through the flickering flame at the ring’s center.
To the right, to the left. Looking at the board, laughing with their friends, going to the front desk or setting out on a journey.
He watched it all aimlessly. Many different adventurers, doing many different things.
And why?
When he thought about it, he couldn’t see any real meaning in it.
If something was useful, he would use it. If he could sell it, the money would go into his war chest. And if it was neither useful nor valuable, he would throw it away.
That was what he should do. Nothing to regret.
“Um, excuse me…”
It was just at that moment that a rather hesitant voice spoke to him.
“…Is something the matter, sir?”
In front of him, he saw a female staff member of the Guild, her hair tied gently in a braid. He didn’t have to search his memory to know who she was. She had helped him out any number of times.
It was Guild Girl.
“It is nothing important,” he said and showed her the ring in his hand.
The glittering flame inside its gemstone provoked a gasp of amazement from Guild Girl. “What a lovely ring. Did you find it in some ruins or something?”
“No.” Goblin Slayer shook his head. “I found it in a goblin nest.”
“Really…” Guild Girl didn’t look quite sure what to say next. He glanced questioningly at her, and she shook her head, causing her braid to bounce, then smiled. “I guess you are Goblin Slayer.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve been looking for someone to identify this ring.”
“You…” Guild Girl blinked. “…were?”
“I don’t know who to ask.” He tossed the ring casually back in his bag, letting out a soft sigh as he did so. “So just now, I decided to simply throw it away.
“There’s no point in carrying around something you can’t use,” he murmured, and Guild Girl’s expression grew more ambiguous still.
“What?” Goblin Slayer grunted, unable to read what she was thinking.
“Oh, uh…” Her shoulders jumped in surprise, and she fiddled uncertainly with her hair. “I, er… I might be able to introduce you to someone.”
§
“…Well, now?”
The witch had come into the Guild just as usual, but now she blinked and arched one of her long eyebrows. Guild Girl was waving at her to come
over. And what was more, beside her was—
“…”
Witch’s lips relaxed into a small smile, and she headed over, hips swaying. Adventurers around the room stole glances at her voluptuous body and whispered to one another. But she pulled her wide-brimmed hat down over her eyes and returned none of their looks.
What worth could there be in the words of people who didn’t even have the nerve to talk to her face-to-face? She almost seemed to be enjoying the room’s reaction as she made her way along, shaking her head gently.
“And, what…could this be about?” Her breathy voice seemed to catch ever so slightly. Her generous chest shifted each time she drew a breath. She chuckled, a sound she made deep in her throat, then spoke the name of the man before her like a mischievous child. “Goblin, Slayer?”
“I have a request.” The man in the grimy leather armor and cheap-looking steel helmet could not have been more blunt or disinterested. “Are you able to perform identifications?”
“Identifications…?” Witch couldn’t seem to decide what he wanted—or perhaps she understood exactly what he was asking, and that was what prompted her questioning look.
Watching over the exchange from the side, Guild Girl gave an uncomfortable laugh and, hoping to rescue the situation, said, “Uh, you see… Our friend Goblin Slayer, he found a ring in some ruins.”
“Ah, haa…” Witch narrowed her eyes deliberately before nodding. “That…explains it.”
“Right. He wants to know if you could have a look at it…”
Witch reached out a slim, pale arm, beckoning to the man. “May I, see it?”
“Here.” Goblin Slayer nonchalantly went through his bag and produced the ring.
“Well, now…” Witch made an admiring sound. Even Guild Girl, seeing the ring for the second time, widened her eyes and breathed, “Wow…”
The metal circle glinted faintly. Guild Girl hadn’t realized earlier just how modest it was. It didn’t look like an item that contained a powerful magic; it didn’t even look like it would command much value as a piece of jewelry. But the shimmering inside that gemstone somehow captured the heart.
Witch took the ring in her hand and gazed at it in the sunlight coming through the window. She caressed it as if feeling it out with her fingertips, turned it over to see if there was any writing engraved on the inside.
A moment later, she shook her head gently. “I’m…sorry.” She offered the ring back along with her words. Goblin Slayer took it and put it back in his bag. “I’m, not…quite sure…what it is.”
“I see.” There was no hint of disappointment in his response. He just said calmly, “Sorry to bother you.”
If anything, Guild Girl was more disappointed than he was; she murmured, “Is that right? What a shame.”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “It simply means I will get rid of it.”
Witch, however, was not done talking. “But…listen.” She practically draped herself over her own staff, pointing a finger to indicate his item bag. “That thing… I know, someone…who, might want exactly…what you, have there.”
“Hmm.” Goblin Slayer grunted and reached into the bag once more. “I will give it to you, then.”
“…Heh, heh… There’s, no greed…in you, is there?”
Hmm, hmm. There was that quiet chuckle again. Then Witch told him where to find the person in question, as melodically as if she were intoning a spell. It was nothing so distinguished as an actual address, but rather a vague description of a spot beside a river outside town.
“Just…go there. I should think…she’ll be there…at, any time.”
“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “That helps.”
“Don’t, mention it,” Witch said with another slow shake of her head. “I was, glad to see…what you showed me.” Then she seemed to remember something and added, “Apple cider… Perhaps you ought, to bring some…along?”
Goblin Slayer thought this over for a moment then, with a tilt of his helmet, replied softly, “Understood. Thanks. You’ve been helpful.”
And then he strode boldly away.
For a second, Guild Girl seemed surprised to have been so summarily left behind, but she soon murmured, “Oh,” and smiled. It had taken her a moment, but she had figured out whom those last few words were directed at.
“Not at all!” she called to his swiftly receding back, waving her hand. Even though she knew she wouldn’t get a response.
“So…?” Witch smiled at Guild Girl like a cat toying with a mouse.
“Y-yes?” Guild Girl asked. Her shoulders trembled, causing Witch’s smile to deepen.
“Perhaps…you could, give me…something, as a reward?”
“Wh-who, me?”
Uh-oh. Guild Girl frowned now, concerned. Did she want money? Guild Girl was still paid the starting salary and didn’t have much to spare.
“Say… Do you, perchance…know any, adventurers…who can handle, a spear…?”
“Huh?” Guild Girl, roused from her troubled ruminations, blinked. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Oh yes.” Yes, she did know someone like that. A sharp new adventurer. In fact, she had worked with him herself.
“The one who, fought that…centipede. He often…asks me, to work with him…temporarily. But…”
She got along fairly well with him. They could banter with each other. It might have been fair to call them friends.
But, she said. Witch’s voice was small and hesitant, only just above a whisper.
She wanted to form a proper party with him…
Guild Girl giggled; Witch looked so young and innocent making this shy request.
“But of course. Just leave it to me!”
§
He’d been told he would know it when he saw it, and indeed he did.
For a while he had been walking down well-traveled streets, the jug of apple cider he’d bought at the tavern hanging from one hand.
Where he would normally head toward the farm for the night, though, he went in exactly the opposite direction, until he reached the outskirts of town. There he found what perhaps would be best described as a hovel.
A waterwheel creaked in the river nearby, and smoke drifted from the chimney of the small building. It was sturdier than a simple hut but too modest to be called a proper house.
Which makes it a hovel, after all.
By the time he had reached this conclusion, Goblin Slayer was standing in front of the weathered door. Only the knocker shone brightly, as if it alone were new; it looked out of place on this building.
I will have to do a more careful study of the geography around here.
He felt a pang as he realized how little he knew about what was in the area around town. He should have pounded the details into his head. But he hadn’t known about this hovel until this very moment.
Swallowing his frustration with himself, he gave a few firm strikes with the knocker.
“Pardon me,” he called to whoever was inside. “I have something I would like to have identified.”
There was no response.
He stood in front of the door for several seconds longer.
Still no answer. Goblin Slayer, continuing to stand there, grunted softly. He was certain the occupant was home. If Witch hadn’t implied as much, the smoke from the chimney would still have been a giveaway.
To receive no answer from someone who wasn’t home was one thing; but if she wasn’t going to answer even when she was home, then there would be no point in coming back another time.
He knocked again, harder this time.
“Pardon me. I have something I would like to have identified.”
This time, a voice came from within: “Oh, it’s open. Just come on in.”
There was a note of impudence in the invitation, but Goblin Slayer paid it no mind as he opened the door. The haughtiness wasn’t so different from the way he acted. He figured he should be grateful she had replied at all.
Inside the little ho
use—well, the first thing he had to decide was where to walk. The place was, in a word, buried. Piles of old books and children’s toys—or were they just junk?—were scattered around. Visible plates were loaded with table scraps.
A pair of bellows worked over by the hearth with a metallic screech; a rope was strung across the ceiling, and laundry had been hung from it.
As far back in that room as one could get, in the slightest of open spaces, a shadow leaned over a desk, squirming. When he got close enough—moving slowly, carefully, so as not to bump into anything—he finally realized the shape was a person.
It was someone who looked like a wizard, in fact, although the robes were covered in patches from top to bottom. There was something on the desk in front of them. “No, not like that,” the wizard was muttering. “No, not that, either.”
Cards.
Cards with colors and pictures of all sorts on them—the wizard would pile them up only to slide them apart again, then shuffle and cut the deck.
The figure hardly seemed to notice Goblin Slayer standing behind them. He watched them for a moment, and then, when they didn’t say anything, he quietly offered, “I would like to request the identification of a ring.”
“Hmmm…? Oh, a ring. Oh yeah? That so? A ring…”
The voice was younger, higher-pitched than he’d expected, but regardless, didn’t sound very interested. The wizard continued to move the cards around, chin in hand, muttering something.
“A ring?!”
Suddenly, the mage jumped up with a clatter, and the cards went flying as if a blizzard had blown them away. At the same time, the hood covering the wizard’s head fell away with a flutter.
Dull gold hair, clipped more or less to the shoulders, tumbled out.
“Don’t tell me! You’ve not found Spark, have you?!” The wizard who clutched at his leather breastplate was female.
So it was a woman?
Behind his visor, Goblin Slayer blinked.
The wizard’s hair was wild, sticking out this way and that—maybe she never combed it, or maybe trying wouldn’t do any good.
She quickly ran a hand through the hair, producing a whiff of a not-unpleasant aroma.
From this distance, he could see her eyes, which seemed to be green. But they were distorted by her spectacles, and the color was strangely indistinct.
