by Kumo Kagyu
“What is it?” he asked, and in answer, she held up a sounding staff that had been thrown to the ground.
The staff of one who served the Earth Mother—her staff.
“So that proves it,” High Elf Archer said, sounding moderately pleased.
“Yes,” Priestess answered, nodding. “But…I don’t see a lot of blood.” Hmm. Priestess tapped her lip with her pointer finger and thought. No corpses, either. That led to just one conclusion. “I think they took her away immediately…”
“…Yeah, I think he said something about a cursed object or something, right?” High Elf Archer’s ears were drooping. She was probably thinking about the dried-out arm the dark elf had wielded with such glee. “So maybe they wanted her for a sacrifice?”
“Sounds like a good guess,” Dwarf Shaman concurred, stroking his beard. “There are only a few reasons you kidnap a princess: to marry her, ransom her, or sacrifice her.”
“The question is whether they knew she was a princess, or if this was simple coincidence,” Goblin Slayer said, surveying the scene. Then he turned to Lizard Priest. “What do you think?”
“By chance, a princess runs away from home, by chance, she travels north on the main highway, and by chance wanders right to her would-be captors.” Lizard Priest counted off the circumstances on his fingers, his head shaking back and forth on his long neck. “It needs a great deal of chance.”
“I thought so,” Goblin Slayer said. “If they were targeting the princess, they did a very sloppy job.”
“No need to waste any more time here, then, right?” High Elf Archer said. She was already tugging on the reins and urging her horse on down the road. “Let’s go! If we don’t keep up the pace, we’ll lose them!”
Priestess scrambled to get back on Goblin Slayer’s horse; he pulled her up.
Thus, the pursuit began again.
Tail Wind, though, while it might protect the horses from fatigue, did no such thing for their riders. They had been in the saddle since morning, and the strain was tormenting them.
Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest, both of whom boasted considerable stamina, were doing all right. And the warrior Goblin Slayer wasn’t having problems, either. But the faces of High Elf Archer and Priestess, small women both, were growing increasingly taut.
The sun—hadn’t it only just risen?—was already high in the sky, and the creeping heat of early autumn set upon them. Priestess sighed, supporting herself in the saddle, swaying side to side as she took a drink of water.
As she swallowed, she noticed him out of the corner of her eye. “Would you like a drink…?”
“No.” The helmet remained fixed straight ahead. “I don’t need it.”
“Um, okay,” Priestess said in a small voice. She wet her lips with another mouthful then put the stopper back in the canteen.
“Milord Goblin Slayer,” Lizard Priest said, espying the situation out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t believe we can maintain this pace for much longer.”
“A short rest, then?”
“If I may suggest it.”
Goblin Slayer didn’t answer, but he also ignored Priestess when she murmured, “I’m okay for now.”
He stared straight ahead then turned to High Elf Archer. “What about it? You still can’t hear anything?”
“Not yet…” She frowned and strained her ears. “…Hang on.” She looked up, narrowing her eyes. Her long ears moved almost imperceptibly. “Wind… The growling of wolves…”
“The goblins?”
High Elf Archer’s nose twitched as she took a big sniff. “It smells like rotten meat!”
“The goblins,” Goblin Slayer said confidently, and as he spoke, he dug his heels into his horse’s sides. His mount neighed loudly and set off at a gallop, leaving only Priestess’s little yelp behind them.
Dwarf Shaman, watching him go, smacked his forehead and looked up at the sky. “Gods, nothing gets him fired up like goblins! Gimme the reins, Long-Ears!”
“Take ’em!” High Elf Archer shouted, passing them to the dwarf without a moment’s hesitation and drawing the great bow off her back.
The weapon seemed a bit big for horseback—riding double, no less—but she stood straight up as if she were on solid ground and pulled a handful of arrows from her quiver.
In the blink of an eye, three of them were in her bow, and she was drawing the string; she looked fit to be a statue. Twitching her ears this way and that, aiming by feel, she let loose the bolts in eyeblink succession.
The arrows whistled as they arced through the air.
“GOROBGR?!”
“GBB?!”
A wolf cried out, followed by the muffled screams of two goblins.
The enemy was just beginning to come into sight for Goblin Slayer up at the front.
For goblins, noon was effectively the middle of the night. They were in the shade of a tree where they had presumably been taking a little nap, safely shielded from the sun’s rays.
Now he counted roughly five remaining riders jumping up in shock at the sudden sniping of their comrades. They had the usual motley assortment of armor and weapons, but they also bore those same strange tattoos all over their bodies.
“GOROBG! GOORO!!!”
“GROBOGORO!!”
They kicked sleeping fellows, stamped on limbs in their rush to be the first to the wolves. They left their half-drunk wine and partially consumed meat in the furor.
“No way that’s the main force,” Dwarf Shaman said in annoyance with just one look at the scattering goblins. “I’m guessing they got so caught up in looting they got separated from the ones up ahead.”
“Aw, come on,” High Elf Archer groaned. “What are they, stupid?”
“The end result is that it buys the goblins time.” I don’t like it. Goblin Slayer growled quietly.
No goblin would sacrifice himself to help his comrades. But the goblins up ahead might be hoping that the idiots they left behind would have the same effect. Each of them, after all, was convinced that they themselves would never do something so stupid. Even if there had been a goblin who could sympathize with his fellows, he would still certainly have seen himself as exceptional.
That was simply how goblins were.
“Nonetheless, we will kill them all,” Goblin Slayer declared dispassionately. This did not change what had to be done. “It will be a running battle. Our enemies are fleeing. Five in number. No evidence of traps. Let’s go.”
“In very deed!” Lizard Priest grinned the fearsome grin he had inherited from his forefathers. “The heads of our enemies shall speak for our virtue in combat!” He wrapped the reins around his arms and clapped his hands together. “O sickle wings of velociraptor, rip and tear, fly and hunt!” The fang he held in his hand boiled and expanded into a Swordclaw. “Milord Goblin Slayer, mistress archer, your support, please!”
“Yes.” The middle helmet nodded ever so slightly, then Goblin Slayer casually let go of his horse’s reins as well. “Take these.”
“Yipes!” Priestess exclaimed, grabbing the reins, but once she had them, she didn’t know what to do with them.
I’ve never ridden a horse before!
This was her very first time on horseback, in fact. Why did her first time doing things always turn out to be so hard?
“G-Goblin Slayer, sir! Er, um, wh-what do I—?!”
The answer that came was brutally simple: “Hold tight to the reins and keep your eyes forward.” Goblin Slayer grabbed a sling and a stone from his item pouch. “This won’t take long.”
He was right.
While High Elf Archer loosed her next arrow, Goblin Slayer began twirling his sling. It spun horizontally beside him then sent the rock whistling through the air. Priestess, clinging desperately to the reins, was wide-eyed at his throwing technique.
He doesn’t even let the horse’s neck get in his way.
Now was hardly the time to try to learn the technique, but she would have to ask him about it later. She
stored the thought deep within herself.
“GBBBOROGB?!” One of the goblins took the rock to the skull and went tumbling, his neck twisting at an unnatural angle.
Four left. No…
“Hi—yah…!” High Elf Archer took aim and loosed.
The shot appeared to miss, but then it bounced up at the wolf’s feet, spearing its throat.
“GOORBGRGOB?!”
The wolf cried out and threw the goblin from its back. Goblin Slayer’s horse went trampling over the creature’s skull, scattering his brains everywhere. Three left.
“Heh-heh!” High Elf Archer puffed out her little chest, presumably showing off for Goblin Slayer.
“What’re you so proud of?” Dwarf Shaman grumbled, but the elf’s long ears conveniently didn’t hear him.
With the goblin numbers thus reduced, the rest of the problem effectively solved itself.
“Eeeeeyaaaaaahhhh!!” Lizard Priest howled and flew into the fray. He had the reins in his jaws, a Swordclaw in each hand.
Before the might of the warrior people, the lizardmen—literally before it, because they were running desperately away—the number of goblins hardly mattered. Lizard Priest struck out right and left, cutting and slicing, and in the space of an instant, two heads and then three went rolling. Geysers of blood came whistling from the headless necks, and Lizard Priest let out a breath.
When the gaze of a descendent of the fearsome nagas fell upon you, you were finished.
The surviving wolves yelped and ran like rabbits into the wilderness, their tails between their legs.
“Would you have us pursue the animals?” The question was full of battle and blood.
“They are not goblins,” Goblin Slayer said shortly. “Did you see the tattoos?”
“Surely,” Lizard Priest said with a nod of his head. “The same pattern as the little devils before.”
“Mm,” Goblin Slayer replied with a nod. Then he said softly to Priestess, “That’s enough.”
“Oh, right…”
He reached toward her and took the reins from her in a firm hand.
Tail Wind or no, they had pushed their horses harder than ever during this battle. Flecks of foam were beginning to appear at the edges of the animals’ mouths, and Priestess patted her horse’s neck worriedly. “Goblin Slayer, sir, I think…”
“…I understand,” Goblin Slayer said grimly as he slowed the pace.
Priestess knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, yet still, she stiffened. With no prospect of an opportunity to change horses along the way, they would have no choice but to continue the chase at a reduced speed.
If she looked to the north, she could see the holy mount in the distance, looming dark despite the sunshine. The summit was capped with snow; it didn’t strike her as a place people should be going.
The abyss seemed to yawn before them, waiting for the adventurers.
Waiting, like the kidnapped princess. Like the goblins.
“…I guess all that’s for tomorrow.”
The deepest of all dungeons was still far away.
It looks like a pool of blood.
That was Priestess’s first impression.
The top of the mountain stabbed up into the sky, the dawn light running like blood along the ridge.
And there, below, dark as a patch of dried gore, loomed the fortress, spreading through the shadows.
It was a fortress city where adventurers had gathered, built by some former king as a training ground for his royal guard.
But all that was now long in the past.
With the Lord of the Demons quelled, adventurers had left that dungeon behind.
Mantled by the morning light, the city appeared nothing more than a ghost town, a skeleton, deserted and barren.
That’s…what it should be anyway.
Priestess shivered at the faint sense of dread that emanated from the place. She glanced at High Elf Archer, usually so stalwart and reassuring, but even her face was drawn, her long ears back.
The deepest dungeon, the endless abyss, the Dungeon of the Dead.
Once home to the Lord of the Demons, a great pit that spat forth death and pestilence.
The very remains even now bared their fangs, eager to consume adventurers.
No fortress, however strong, could defend against them.
“I see footprints,” Goblin Slayer said calmly, bringing Priestess back to herself. He was crouched down, looking like always as he felt along the ground. “Wolves and goblins. No question.”
“Not going to be so easy to track, though,” Dwarf Shaman said, squinting under his eyebrows and shielding his eyes with a hand as he stared at the fortress. Suddenly, feeling a burp coming on, he grabbed the flask of wine from his hip and took a gulp.
To make a long story short, the adventurers had chosen a forced march. They had kept running through the night, not even sparing time to rest. Mounts and riders all were exhausted.
Now they were off their horses for the first time in hours, the animals tied to a tree in the nearby field. Priestess watched them graze, the expressions on their faces conveying a certain annoyance with their masters.
I’m starting to see why most adventurers don’t have horses.
They needed food and water, and a place to stay while their owners were delving a dungeon. She knew that most of those who called themselves knights-errant also went on foot.
What about paladins, I wonder?
The thoughts drifted around her tired head.
This wouldn’t do. Priestess smacked her cheeks gently and said, “That’s right. Even if we only have to get through four levels of the dungeon, we have to face that fortress, too…”
“It won’t be so bad,” Goblin Slayer said, brushing the earth off his hands as he stood. “They’re goblins. They have full faith that they are the smartest creatures around.”
“And so?” Lizard Priest asked. He was bathing in the glowing light, warming his whole body. The first hints of winter that came in the night were more than enough to make the lizardman stiff.
“The one who is at the highest place, or the deepest, will think he is the most important.” Goblin Slayer reached into his bag and produced a piece of leather, along with two disc-shaped crystals.
He rolled the leather into a cylinder shape, put one of the crystals at either end, and tied them in place with rope.
“Whazzat?” High Elf Archer was, naturally, very interested.
“It is a telescope.”
He put the device to his visor and looked down at the city with it; a hand reached out to him as if to say, Gimme, gimme.
Goblin Slayer silently handed it over, and High Elf Archer put it to her eye.
“…I see,” she breathed. It was no wonder her ears drooped.
OWR TOMN
The sign set above the entrance to the city was scrawled with letters in blood. A child could have written more legibly.
One assumed that one or two of the heads of the soldiers, the former guards of this town, had helped produce the declaration.
Goblins were not strong. But if one was attacked by several dozen of them in the confines of a fortress, it would be no different than being ambushed in a cave.
“They mean our town, I guess,” High Elf Archer observed. “So what do you plan to do?”
She made a face and tossed the telescope back to Goblin Slayer, who grunted. He undid the rope and unrolled the leather, putting them and the crystals back in his bag. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Fire? Water, maybe? Smoke? Or another bomb?”
“No,” Goblin Slayer said, shaking his head. “I’m not thinking about those things.”
Whatever. High Elf Archer put her hands on her hips and snorted while Dwarf Shaman looked disappointed.
“Thoughts?”
“A fine question…” Though he had just finished sunbathing, Lizard Priest trembled. He stretched out his long neck to get a good view of the fortress then slowly shook his head from side to side.
“Myself, I would commit to a siege only if I had reinforcements, or didn’t.”
“Er, umm…,” Priestess said, furrowing her brow in confusion.
“Wouldn’t that work out to…anytime…?”
Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in his head. “The one is when you know reinforcements are coming and need to wait. The other is when you have no other options.” His tail slithering on the ground, Lizard Priest muttered to himself, “Then too, it could be worth attempting to cut off the enemy’s supply lines in a surprise attack.” He concluded with, “In any case, I should not expect the goblins to understand…”
“Agreed.” High Elf Archer nodded. Not that the enemy should be underestimated, but still. “They’re goblins, after all.”
“…However,” Lizard Priest added.
Priestess looked up at him. This gigantic lizardman’s expression was difficult to discern, although not as difficult as Goblin Slayer’s. “Is something wrong?”
“Speaking of reinforcements, we cannot assume that some might not come welling up out of the depths.”
The same chill from earlier struck Priestess again. She gripped her sounding staff tightly.
Was this some kind of mistake? The thought occurred to her fleetingly, although she was Steel-ranked.
“…Guess it really does come down to fire this time, huh?” High Elf Archer said, recognizing there seemed no other choice.
Goblin Slayer, however, responded, “No.” The place before them was deserted, no inhabitants left, rotting away. But still… “That is a town.”
It was different from ruins or a dungeon, or a cave.
High Elf Archer’s expression when Goblin Slayer presented his conclusion was difficult to describe.
“Have a look—it may be quick work, but it’s still stone.” With a hint of exasperation, Dwarf Shaman said, “Your lot don’t know anything about masonry, Long-Ears.” He had made a little window with his thumbs and pointer fingers and was looking intently at the distant fortress. “True, ideally we might take out any goblins down there, but not with the few drops of oil we’ve got with us.”
“How about magic?” High Elf Archer asked in spite of herself. “Don’t get me wrong, though,” she added with a flick of her ears. “I know you dwarves don’t usually learn offensive spells.”
