by Kumo Kagyu
Once he had completed his patrol of the farm, he retrieved several knives and targets from his shed. He lined up a row of bottles and other small things along the fence then practiced spinning around, taking aim in an instant, and throwing.
One after another, the daggers whistled through the morning air, sending the bottles flying, or sticking upright in the fence.
“Hrm.”
That was all Goblin Slayer said about the matter as he set about cleaning up the weapons and targets. Dawn was pitching its first rays over the horizon.
He had put his training tools away in the shed when, suddenly, he spotted a figure near the entrance to the farm.
A goblin?
His hand grasped the sword at his hip. The figure was too shadowy to make out, but it took one or two steps. When he realized it was too big to be a goblin, he loosened his grip on his sword.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“Eeyikes!” came the startled reply. The panicking stranger was a young man, one who looked vaguely familiar.
Goblin Slayer closed the distance between them at a bold stride, and the boy’s face tightened. Then at last, Goblin Slayer realized the visitor was wearing a Guild uniform. An employee, then.
“So you’re from the Guild. What is it?”
“Er, I’d—I’d heard the stories, but… Anyway.” The young man coughed discreetly. “You have a visitor at the Guild. Your presence has been requested, immediately.”
“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Then the helmet tilted just slightly. “Is it goblins?”
“I—I’m not…sure…?”
“Wait just a moment.” His tone brooked no argument. He spun on his heel and went back to the house.
Behind him, the young man put a hand to his chest, speechless, but Goblin Slayer paid him no mind.
He cut through the hallways, certain of where he was going, until he found the door he was looking for.
“I’m coming in.”
“Huh?— Wah?!”
With a most unladylike shout, Cow Girl tried to wrap a sheet around herself—she had been smack in the middle of dressing and was standing there buck naked.
Goblin Slayer fell silent at the sight that greeted him as he opened the door; then he turned his helmet aside and spoke calmly.
“……I won’t need breakfast. I’m going out.”
Cow Girl flapped her hand at him helplessly. Maybe she didn’t mind showing herself to him, but she didn’t want him to simply walk in on her like this.
“Kn-knock! You have to knock!”
“…I see,” Goblin Slayer said quietly. “I apologize.”
“I-it’s okay… I mean, it’s fine, but…” Cow Girl pressed a hand to her huge chest and breathed deeply. Her face was red—from surprise, or embarrassment? Even she wasn’t sure. He had apologized right away, and she was tempted to let it go at that…
“So,” she said, her voice an octave higher than usual. “…What’s going on?”
Goblin Slayer’s answer was brusque. “I don’t know, but I’ve been summoned to the Guild.”
“Okay,” Cow Girl said softly.
I guess this means he won’t need dinner tonight, either. She felt a twinge in her chest.
As if in confirmation, he said, coldly and softly, “If there are goblins involved, I will not be able to help around the farm today.”
See you later.
She saw him off with those words and a smile, but after that, Cow Girl had to sit down on her bed for a time.
§
“Oh! Goblin Slayer, sir!” He saw Guild Girl’s face light up as he entered the Guild.
It was early in the morning.
Adventurers who had rented rooms at the Guild were just filtering down to the tavern from the second floor, blearily shoveling breakfast into their mouths. There weren’t too many of them, though, since the quest papers hadn’t even been posted yet; the entire place’s atmosphere was relaxed and slow.
The one exception was the staff members in the back rooms, who were rushing around, handling administrative work. They were preparing documents, readying posts, checking the safe, confirming salient information, and so on.
In the midst of all this, Guild Girl found a moment to give Goblin Slayer a little wave as he entered the building.
“Your guest is already waiting!”
“I see. On the second floor?”
“That’s right! Er, I…” Guild Girl’s formerly cheerful face clouded over. Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that her prepared smile simply faltered for a moment.
She trailed off like she couldn’t quite bring herself to say what came next. Goblin Slayer tilted his head the slightest bit. “What is it?”
Her braids bounced like a puppy’s tail: poing! Guild Girl bowed her head apologetically.
“I’m really sorry about the quest last time.”
“Last time…”
“The—you know, the sea-goblin one.” Guild Girl could hardly get the words out. She had just received his report yesterday.
Goblin Slayer had to give this some thought, but eventually, even he seemed to figure out what she was saying. “Ah,” he said, nodding. Then he proceeded to shake his head. “It doesn’t bother me.”
With that phenomenally brief statement, Goblin Slayer headed for the stairs. He didn’t even notice Guild Girl putting a hand to her heart in relief as he began to climb them.
He discovered he was going to the same meeting room in which he had first been introduced to the people who were now his party members. How long had it been? With the fleeting realization that more than a year had passed by now, he opened the door.
As he did so, the woman standing by the window on the far side of the room raised her head and looked at him.
“So you’ve come,” she said.
Her voice had such heat in it, it seemed it could melt at any moment. The sun came through the window behind her, and the lips that peeked out from under her hood smiled softly.
The woman sloughed off her robe, and waves of golden hair emerged like the sea. Her sheer, white garments gleefully exposed the voluptuous lines of her body—the Earth Mother herself might look like this.
The skin her vestments revealed was perfectly white, almost translucent, as if untouched by the sun. It meant that the tinge of rose in her cheeks was probably not just from the light. She almost seemed like a harlot—and there were temples that kept sacred prostitutes.
She could have wrapped any man who gazed upon her around her little finger, and yet, her eyes were covered with a black sash. In her hand, she held the downward-pointing sword and scales that were the symbol of righteousness and justice. The way she all but leaned on them, the way she whispered, conveyed intense anxiety.
“Have I…disturbed you?”
“No.”
Sword Maiden. That was the name of the frontier cleric whom Goblin Slayer answered in his diffident voice.
“Is it goblins?”
“Yes, there are. I beg you, help me… Or should I say…” Her alluring, sultry voice was almost a whisper as she shook her head. “…kill them?”
“Of course,” he said with the swiftness of a striking sword.
Her lips softened into the slightest of smiles, her breath coming warm. Her hair spilled over her expansive chest, little waves rippling through it.
“Where are they? How big is the nest?”
“There are some…special details you should know.”
“Tell me.”
Sword Maiden gestured to Goblin Slayer to take a seat, as though he and not she were the guest. The way he sat down was almost violent; by contrast, when she lowered herself, it was with the utmost grace. She shifted a little, getting her ample butt into just the right place, and then she pulled the sword and scales close.
“The location is… Excuse me, could you bring me a map?”
“Sure, sure, I’ve got it ready,” answered an older female cleric. How long had she been there? This woman almost
seemed to meld with the shadows in the corner of the meeting room.
The cleric spread the map out on the tabletop with hardly a sound despite her voluminous vestments.
She is some kind of monk, no doubt, Goblin Slayer thought and then immediately shifted his focus. She had nothing to do with goblins.
Sword Maiden must have guessed what he was thinking, for she let out a quiet chuckle. “She’s a helper of mine. A bodyguard, too… Though I said I didn’t need one.”
“Skilled though you may be, milady archbishop, even you might be in danger traveling alone. What else were we to do?”
Boo. Sword Maiden seemed like she was almost pouting—but then she coughed gently, a little embarrassed. “In any event, the goblins are appearing…”
She ran a finger along the map gently, almost a caress. She somehow traced the roads expertly, even though she was effectively blindfolded.
“…here, on the highway that goes from the water town to this one and toward the capital.”
“The highway…”
“It’s terrifying. The road hasn’t become quite impassable just yet, but…”
…it almost is. What would the average person think if they heard Sword Maiden’s assessment?
“Hrm,” Goblin Slayer grunted as he glanced at Sword Maiden, whose shoulders were shaking. “Do we know the nature of the nest, its size, or any other details?”
“Eyewitness accounts suggest about twenty goblins, all with the same tattoo. We don’t know where the nest is, but…” Sword Maiden’s voice dropped, like that of a child recounting an especially disturbing dream. “…reports said they were riding on wolves.”
“I see,” Goblin Slayer said softly then grunted again as he lapsed into thought.
They had encountered riders before, in the rain forest, a battle that had involved the two groups shooting at each other along a cliffside. It had been considerable trouble to finish them off on that occasion…
“Milady archbishop is obliged to participate in a council that will be taking place at the capital soon.” Sigh. The attendant’s words seemed intended to supplement Sword Maiden’s explanation and perhaps to clarify as well. Perhaps she couldn’t bear the idea that one of the great protectors who had brought peace to the frontier should be perceived as afraid of mere goblins. Or perhaps it was out of genuine compassion for the mistress she served. “The quest, then, isn’t technically monster slaying but private bodyguard work.”
“Will there be other guards?”
“None. Not least because the urgency of the conference has not permitted time to make such arrangements.”
Why not use soldiers, or let the military handle things? Any such needling questions from an adventurer would no doubt have wounded Sword Maiden to the core. Her acolyte, it seemed, protected not only her mistress’s physical well-being…but her emotional state as well.
In any event, Goblin Slayer’s answer was as clean as split wood: “I don’t care. I suspect they’re wanderers without a nest. A wandering tribe.” He stared fixedly at the map, calculating the distance and direction to the capital in his head.
He had never been to the capital. But then, there was a time in his life when he had never been to this town, either.
The map was unlikely to be exactly like the reality. He would make sure his plans included time to react to the situation on the ground.
“If we encounter them, we’ll kill them all, and that will be the end of it.”
“I didn’t know there were goblins like that.”
“There are. They’re sometimes called field-goblins.” Goblin Slayer nodded firmly, then thought a moment and added an important clarification. “But a sea-goblin is a kind of fish.”
“Well.” It was hard to believe. Or anyway, Sword Maiden’s open mouth suggested a sort of disbelief—she quickly covered it with her hands. If her eyes had been visible, they might well have been wide open and blinking.
“I have to think that almost any adventurer could have helped us deal with a few goblins.” Apparently the acolyte was also dubious, although for different reasons. She glanced at Goblin Slayer—or more precisely, at the Silver-ranked tag hanging around his neck.
This adventurer in the grimy suit of armor was the one who had buried the blasphemous creature in the sewers of the water town. She couldn’t doubt his abilities. She simply thought perhaps taking someone of his level was a bit excessive.
“Milady archbishop, however, won’t even consider hiring anyone but you,” she said.
“He’s the one I trust most of all,” Sword Maiden said, pursing her lips in a pout.
“Hopeless,” the acolyte could be heard to remark. She sounded like an older sister going along with some whim of her younger sibling.
Goblin Slayer watched the two of them intently then spoke in a low voice. “I will call my friends,” he said, using a word even he hardly believed he was uttering. “It won’t take long.”
§
“And you took the quest without even hashing out the reward?!”
“…Reward?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot, Orcbolg!”
A tree would forget its roots if it were as dumb as you.
From her place beside Lizard Priest on the driver’s bench, High Elf Archer flicked her ears in disgust.
Accompanied by the party, a carriage pulled by a pair of horses clattered out the town gate. A breeze cool with the first breath of autumn sent clouds scudding across the sky; the weather was clear, and it was still comfortably warm out.
But it was also her day off. This was supposed to be her break. The day when she could sleep until noon if she wanted.
Instead, she had been shaken out of her sleep with “We have a job” and “It’s goblins.” Even an elf would be upset, and High Elf Archer was perfectly willing to demonstrate as much with the use of her ears.
“Well, er, come on, now…” Priestess, her face strained, attempted to calm the archer, but it wasn’t like she didn’t understand the feeling. After all, it had been goblin hunting yesterday and it would be goblin hunting today. She adored adventures proper, so she couldn’t have been happy about this.
Not that it will keep me from going with him, of course…
He had come to them as usual with his discussion-that-wasn’t-a-discussion; he was truly hopeless.
“Goblin Slayer, sir, you need to make sure you get the details, all right?” She held up her pointer finger the way she had done when scolding the junior clerics at the temple.
“I see,” he said and gave an attentive nod—that made him less trouble than most of the young disciples.
“I guess we can just talk about the reward later… Can’t we?”
“Certainly. Of course, I’m prepared to compensate you.” Inside the carriage the party surrounded sat a woman wearing a hood and a small smile. The attendant seated across from her was quite beautiful, but the sheer glory of her form, and the mysterious and alluring shape of her mouth, were nothing compared with those of her mistress.
Adventurers going this way and that along the road turned disinterested looks on the beauty staring out the window of the carriage.
The scene was, well, unremarkable. This was hardly the first time the man who accepted nothing but goblin quests had done something strange. He was a strange one, and now he had taken on a goblin-related quest and was guarding this woman.
The somewhat indulgent atmosphere, though, was probably lost on the man himself…
“For starters, I’ll offer you all a bag of gold coins in advance. Then another when we arrive.”
“One bag each?” Dwarf Shaman said.
“That’s right.”
That provoked a “Hmm” and satisfied stroke of the beard from the dwarf. For goblin slaying, even if it was goblin slaying plus some bodyguard work, that was a good price. “Not bad, not bad. Might even be a good chance to do a little sightseeing around the capital…”
“Uh-huh… The—the capital. I have always wanted to see it
once…” High Elf Archer was still annoyed, but she seemed to realize that an outburst here would be less than tactful and contented herself with grumbling a bit.
Well indeed, ha-ha. Lizard Priest cackled from where he sat on the driver’s bench, holding the reins.
There was Goblin Slayer, who looked to be guiding the carriage. Lizard Priest and High Elf Archer were sitting on the bench. Dwarf Shaman and Priestess went on either side for support. No one had needed to say anything; they simply fell into this formation.
Ultimately, they had all followed “milord Goblin Slayer” without any of them asking about the reward, and that was that.
Not to say they hadn’t put any thought into the trip or adequately prepared. They had given everything due consideration.
Yes, most agreeable. Lizard Priest was pleased to know most people would not be able to read his expression as his smile deepened.
Suddenly, not far outside town, Goblin Slayer spoke up. “…Stop the carriage.”
“So I shall.” Lizard Priest put a scaled hand to the reins to check the horses.
“Wait a moment,” Goblin Slayer said and began walking. They didn’t have to ask why. Just a short distance from the road, on the other side of the fence, they could see a young girl with red hair.
“Beard-cutter’s nothing if not devoted. Eh, Scaly?”
“They say that to be seen face-to-face is to form a bond. But a bond may loosen without proper attention.”
Dwarf Shaman came over to the stationary carriage, popping the cork out of his wine jug and taking a swig.
“Drinking before noon?” High Elf Archer remarked with surprise, but a dwarf who doesn’t drink is no dwarf at all.
“Don’t be dense. This is fuel; it keeps me going. How’m I supposed to chant my spells if my tongue’s not loose enough?”
Priestess found herself smiling at Dwarf Shaman’s apparent complete seriousness. “It’s easy to get thirsty, isn’t it? It may be autumn, but enough walking will still make you sweat.” She opened her collar a bit (even though she knew it wasn’t at all ladylike) and fanned herself.
It wasn’t quite hot enough to qualify as an Indian summer, but the last vestiges of the warm season were still quite noticeable. Adventurers were accustomed to walking everywhere, but even so, sweating could be draining and tiresome.
