by Kumo Kagyu
Law was a tool and order a way of living well. Nothing more and nothing less. That was why the Supreme God did not hand down revelations. The intent was not that they follow the sacred word of God, but that they think for themselves and use their own judgment.
Guild Girl was still laid out gracelessly across the desk, her face turned listlessly toward her friend.
“What a nice thought.”
“If you can put it into practice. I’m still nowhere near Sword Maiden.”
“That’s not a very fair comparison.”
Sword Maiden.
Ten years had already passed since she had become a household name.
Guild Girl had been twelve or thirteen that year, when one of the Demon Lords had returned to life.
Sword Maiden was a legend from the time when humanity was fighting for its survival, longing for the advent of a hero, a Platinum-ranked adventurer.
A party of Gold ranks had made bold to challenge the Lord…
“And they succeeded. One of them was a humble servant of the Supreme God, Sword Maiden.”
The inspector blushed slightly and sighed like a daydreaming girl. “I love her,” she murmured. “Anyway, all I do is use Sense Lie. It’s not hard. There’s more work to do, right?”
“Plenty of promotion interviews to hold. And I have to fill out the paperwork to demote that guy…”
“You can do it, hang in there!” Guild Girl’s friend pounded her on the back again, but it wasn’t comforting.
Even so, it brought her back to herself a bit. “Right.” She nodded and looked up.
“So.” A teasing grin came over the inspector’s face. “Was that that guy you like?”
“Oh, um…”
Was Sense Lie still in effect? Guild Girl looked up at the ceiling, but the Supreme God was silent. She couldn’t quite meet her friend’s gaze, but she nodded honestly.
“Y-yes, he is… So?”
“Hmm. Well, can’t say I blame you. You’ve always had a thing for the helpful ones, ever since the Capital.”
“I was always looking for more of a, you know, stoic adventurer type.”
She hadn’t found one. At the time she had been disappointed, but now it seemed a blessing. They had met each other after Guild Girl had finished her training and been assigned to this town on the frontier. A newly registered adventurer had met a newly minted receptionist, and they had known each other ever since.
He had been completely focused on hunting goblins, ignoring everything else. For her, fed up with the leering swashbucklers in the Capital, he was a breath of fresh air.
“I admit, maybe this one’s a little too stoic…”
It’s great I can talk to him, but maybe he could at least ask me out for a meal or something… Nah.
Guild Girl shook her head.
Him inviting her out for a nice meal after an adventure?
She couldn’t picture it. And she didn’t have the courage to ask him herself yet. If only she could get a little…push.
“Well, you’re happy, that’s what’s important… So, how long can you afford to shirk your work?”
“Good question. Time to quit daydreaming and get back to business.”
She slowly sat up, composing herself. She straightened the papers on the desk. There was much to do: the report on the rhea scout and the promotion of the ax-wielding warrior, the elf wizard, and the bald monk.
She had been putting off a great deal of more quotidian work, too. Well, she would start with what was right in front of her. She took a pen resolutely in hand, opened the lid of her inkwell, and began to run the pen over the sheepskin paper…
“Hey.”
“Yiiwhat?!”
Guild Girl was completely startled at the voice so near, and her pen skipped along the page.
As she tried to settle the pounding of her heart, she saw that expressionless steel helm. She hurried to straighten her hair and control her breathing and not spill the ink in the process. She also swore to get a little payback on the smirking inspector later.
“Wh-what is it, Mr. Goblin Slayer?”
“I think you know.” His voice was as mechanical as ever, yet somehow cheerful. He held a quest paper in his hand.
Had he grabbed it from the bulletin board after he left? No, she didn’t remember there being any quests available.
And that paper… Does it request him by name?
Who was it from? Where was it from? She didn’t know, but it was a special form that had been delivered by post-horse from far away.
Apparently ignoring Guild Girl as she stared quizzically at the paper, he said shortly:
“Goblin slaying.”
Guild Girl gave him a weak smile.
“The reward is one bag of gold pieces per person. Come or don’t, it’s your choice.”
Somewhere in the guild tavern, Goblin Slayer was summing up.
It was barely noon, but some eager types had come out to drink, and the place was noisy.
Except for when they were fighting, adventurers naturally paid scant attention to the time of day. After a long time in some ruins or labyrinth, upon their return it might be night, it might be dawn; it didn’t matter. Sometimes they went dungeon diving in the morning with the intent to return that night, but it turned out to be the night of the day after. Caravan escorts might leave at noon. For all kinds of reasons, the lights at the tavern never stopped burning.
Today, as ever, the tavern was raucous with adventurers eating lunch and trying themselves against the wine.
In contrast, Priestess had been massaging her temples for quite some time as she listened.
“Okay, I get it…I think.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, mostly. I get that if I act this surprised every time you do something I don’t expect, I’ll never last.”
Their other three companions were also seated at the round table. His party. Her friends.
High Elf Archer was nodding along with Priestess despite her air of exasperation.
Lizard Priest munched thoughtfully on some cheese, tail swaying slightly.
Dwarf Shaman grinned, busy sewing gemstones into the back of his vest.
“Listen,” Priestess said as if she were lecturing a child at the Temple, shaking a shapely index finger at him, “I told you before. If we don’t feel like we actually have a choice, it doesn’t count as consulting us.”
“But you do have a choice.”
“To go or not go. That’s a very narrow choice.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Hmm.”
Goblin Slayer cocked his head quizzically. Perhaps he understood, perhaps he didn’t.
In the back of her mind, Priestess considered the possibility that he didn’t actually have a thought in his head.
“If we say we won’t join you, you’ll just go by yourself anyway, right?” High Elf Archer said.
“Of course.”
“Well, then, this really isn’t a discussion,” she said with a laugh.
“At least Beard-cutter has softened up enough to try to have a talk with us.” Dwarf Shaman had finished sewing in the gems and examined them critically as they caught the light.
“Utterly delightful! Sweet as nectar! …Erm. Yes, it is a promising trend.” Lizard Priest clucked his tongue as he spoke. Most of his cheese was gone.
“Well, we’ll make our choice, then.” Priestess took her sounding staff in both hands from where it had been leaning against the wall.
“Fine,” Goblin Slayer said shortly.
Priestess sighed for the umpteenth time, closed her eyes, and said deliberately:
“I’m coming with you.”
“……”
He went quiet at Priestess’s graceful smile, then after a moment muttered, “I see.”
“Well, you did come on my adventure the other day. Even though it ended up being goblin slaying.”
High Elf Archer bobbed her ears up and down excitedly. Ever the impa
tient type, she was already checking her bow, making sure she had arrows, sliding her bag onto her shoulder, and standing. “Heh-heh,” she giggled, stuck out her little chest proudly, and winked. “I’ll help you again—in exchange for another adventure. That’s all right, isn’t it, Orcbolg?”
“Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “That’s fine.”
“And no poison gas bombs this time!”
“Hrm…”
“It’s only fair,” she said, her finger in Goblin Slayer’s chest.
After a moment he muttered:
“But it’s so effective.”
“Don’t care. Also, no fire and no floods. Think of something else!”
“But…”
High Elf Archer was no longer listening.
“Forget it. When those big ears start fluttering like that, whatever you say is going to go into one and out the other,” Dwarf Shaman muttered, annoyed.
Lizard Priest narrowed his eyes gleefully and touched his nose with his tongue.
“Even the snakelike cleverness of milord Goblin Slayer is rendered moot in the face of such a barbarian.”
“…Nothing to be done, then.” With hardly an attempt at a comeback, Goblin Slayer went quiet.
If that was what High Elf Archer demanded to come with him, there was no questioning it.
He’s a pretty straightforward person, isn’t he? thought Priestess as she met High Elf Archer’s eyes with a soft smile. They nodded at each other.
“Very well, then…” Lizard Priest opened his jaws next. He mulled over his words carefully, as if to show how thoroughly he had considered them. “In that case, it seems you will need every spell caster you can get.”
“Hang on, Scaly,” Dwarf Shaman said reprovingly, stroking his hair. “By that logic, oughtn’t I to come along, too?”
“Oh-ho, how impolite of me.” Lizard Priest rolled his great eyes in his head.
Dwarf Shaman gave him a friendly elbow. “Gods, you lot have backed me into a nice corner. I can hardly refuse now, can I?” Exasperatedly repeating, “Gods,” Dwarf Shaman set aside his needlework and began putting his tools away.
It wasn’t unusual to trade bulky gold coins for gemstones, then sew them into clothes so they wouldn’t be stolen. And a dwarf’s nimble fingers meant you never knew where they might be hidden.
Thrusting his arms through the holes in his vest and combing through his bountiful white beard with his hand, he grinned at the others. “And I’ve just taken care of my traveling expenses. I guess I’ll join you.”
“Oh?” High Elf Archer said, narrowing her eyes like a cat. “If you only guess, you don’t have to come.”
“Speak for yourself. No need to come along if you’re so desperate to avoid me.”
“Hrk…!”
High Elf Archer’s long ears flicked backward; she put both hands on the table and leaned in toward Dwarf Shaman.
“Oh, now I’m really angry. Okay, dwarf, you and me!”
“Ho-ho, grown a little spine, have we? Don’t expect me to go easy on you.” His smile seemed out of place as he set two wine bottles and two cups on the table. “Fire wine for me. Grape wine for you. Sound fair?”
“Perfect!”
Now there was an uproar. The contestants poured their drinks and flung them back.
“Oh, hey, look. Something’s going on!”
“Heh-heh… Wanna take bets?”
Of course, no adventurer could resist a friendly wager.
Spearman smirked happily; Witch took off her hat and immediately declared herself the bookmaker. A happy cry went up, and one adventurer after another, goaded by drink, loosened their purse strings.
The first gold coins to fall into Witch’s hat came from the hand of Female Knight. Next to her, Heavy Warrior stood, looking perturbed. “My money’s on the girl. Three gold pieces!”
“Hey, that’s pretty bold. You sure about that?”
“Heh-heh-heh. Call it a dark horse bet. I’m Lawful Good, after all, and I have the gods’ blessing…”
“Yeah, win or lose, the Supreme God ain’t the type to punish gambling, huh?”
“I’m for the dwarf, then.” “No, the girl!” “Drink! Drink! Drink!”
Watching the contest pick up steam amid the clamor, Priestess wore a look of trepidation.
“Shouldn’t we stop them…?”
“I doubt it will go on very long,” Goblin Slayer responded shortly.
After all, Dwarf Shaman was an experienced drinker, and High Elf Archer could barely hold her liquor. The winner seemed self-evident.
“No, no, our barbarian is most stubborn. The conclusion is not foregone.”
Lizard Priest happily watched the archer, her face bright red, go for another cup of grape wine.
“More! I got plenty more in me…!”
“Coming right up!”
She hadn’t begun to slur her words yet; her eyes hadn’t begun to drift.
Cups smacked down onto the table. Glug, glug, glug, in went the wine.
An appreciative noise went up from the crowd as she grabbed the cup and drained it in a single gulp.
As moments in time go, this wasn’t much; no one would remember it. Even so, they spent it merrily.
Standing next to High Elf Archer, who lay drunk as a lord on the table, Dwarf Shaman raised his fists and roared in victory. He didn’t seem to question how much prestige there really was in beating an elf at a drinking contest.
“All right, then, me next,” said Female Knight, but Heavy Warrior frantically stopped her. (“You’re a mean drunk.”) The girl and the half-elf boy in their party laughed and jeered.
Watching nearby, Spearman rolled up his sleeves, goaded on by Witch. Not to be outdone, Female Knight gave Heavy Warrior a shove.
An arm-wrestling contest began next. The participants might have been unwilling, but once it had started, they weren’t going to lose.
A chant bubbled up. Dwarf Shaman came forward to be the referee, and Witch held out her pointed hat again. It seemed there would be no end. Who would win, who would lose? Again there was a hail of coins.
Spearman won. Then, Heavy Warrior won.
“Okay! Me next!” cried Novice Warrior, but he was met with an “Oh, stop” from Apprentice Priestess.
Heavy Warrior nodded his approval at the boy’s bravado, then grabbed him as he tried to run and mussed up his hair.
Two inexperienced young men were next to arm wrestle.
With the onlooking adventurers cheering blithely for their favorite, Dwarf Shaman gave the signal to begin.
“Goblin Slayer, sir…”
It seemed like the appropriate moment. When Priestess looked up at him, the word “right” slipped out from underneath the helmet, and he nodded.
“Two! Three!”
“Hrm.”
He hefted the limp figure, who was somehow as beautiful as a branch. Goblin Slayer grunted at the weight, even though the body was so slim it looked like it might break in half.
He glanced at Priestess. She was smiling. What can you do?
“Don’t be mad later,” he murmured so quietly no one else could have heard, then bent slightly and positioned himself under High Elf Archer.
Then he rose, one hand on her behind, and hefted her onto his back with a motion that suggested a violent toss.
“Vwoo, wah…”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”
“Hmm? Fooo…”
Was it the common tongue she was failing to speak? Or elvish? Or was it simply the language of dreams?
At Goblin Slayer’s curt words, a smile melted across High Elf Archer’s face.
“I’ll take her back to her room,” Goblin Slayer said briefly, rocking the elf gently as if she were a child. “But you have to help her change.”
“Yes, sir. Leave it to me.”
Priestess made a fist, the most natural person to help.
“Hmm! Now to rest, tomorrow to ride, and then to work…,” Lizard Priest said che
erily, stretching out his neck as if he could see it all already. “What fun it shall be to drag along our hungover friend.”
“If she’s still drunk in the morning, I’ll give her an Antidote.”
“Goblin Slayer, sir, that’s a bit much…”
Priestess seemed taken aback, but Goblin Slayer said blandly:
“That was a joke.”
Priestess and Lizard Priest exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.
It wasn’t the joke that made them happy, but the fact that he had made it.
It was rare for him to be in such high spirits.
Somewhere else—immensely far away, yet incredibly close.
Done! So saying, the goddess, Illusion, wiped the sweat from her brow.
She unrolled a large sheet of paper on which there was—gracious!—a vast dungeon.
Illusion spun about her map in an excess of happiness, then suddenly stopped.
Darn! That’s right. A dungeon isn’t complete without monsters!
That’s what adventures are supposed to be about, after all. Dungeons! Dragons! Tunnels! Trolls! A few traps wouldn’t hurt, either. What to do, what to do?
Illusion dropped a few goblins in, just to get started. You had to have goblins.
But she couldn’t figure out the next step. What to do?
Strong adventurers need strong foes, and weaker ones need enemies to match. Otherwise, the adventurers wouldn’t be able to get into the quest, and then no one would have fun.
And then along came a god who said, Let me show you a trick.
It was Truth. Really? Illusion looked at him doubtfully.
Truth, after all, had a reputation for doing rather unpleasant things.
He would whisper some evil thing in the ear of a quest giver, for example, repeatedly betraying adventurers and then silencing them forever. If a party was looking for traps with a ten-foot pole, he would place a trap eleven feet away.
Just watch, Truth said to the dubious Illusion and pulled a book out of thin air. Opening the dog-eared cover and flipping through the pages, he exclaimed, Come out, foul monsters! Come out, traps!
Truth touched pictures that could have been alive, and they appeared in his palm.
Then, before Illusion could say a word, he dropped the monsters and traps into her labyrinth.
