Goblin Slayer, Vol. 2

by Kumo Kagyu

  “As if elves were so nutritious!”

  Priestess interrupted High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman, pointing ahead with her staff.

  “S-something’s coming from ahead of us, too!”

  High Elf Archer’s ears whipped up and down, listening closely.

  Splash. Something was striking the water. Three somethings, in fact. Oars? She knew the sound.

  “More goblins?” she said tiredly. She seemed to be feeling their earlier battle.

  Another boatful of goblins was approaching along the dim canal.

  “Wh-what do we do…?” Priestess looked up at Goblin Slayer with frightened eyes.

  “……”

  He said nothing in response, but instead doused the light of their lantern.

  “Priest,” he said. “Does the path branch anywhere up ahead?”

  “I assume so. These sewers are rather labyrinthine.” Lizard Priest scratched a claw along the map as he answered.

  “Hang on, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but poison gas and fire are—”

  “Not allowed. I know,” Goblin Slayer said to High Elf Archer. He gave a short sigh.

  “We’ll go with your plan.”

  “…?”

  High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman exchanged mystified looks.

  The goblins struggled to make their warship (or what passed for a warship among goblins) go faster. Their leader, a shaman, thrust his staff forward and, with a screech, urged his rowers to row harder.

  It had been quite some time since the sounds of battle had ceased to echo through the sewers. Most likely, their comrades were already dead, but that was fine. What mattered was that the adventurers, their enemies and prey, be tired. They couldn’t let this opportunity go.

  The goblins were at their limit. These tunnels were pleasantly dank, but this rain was growing unbearable. Goblins couldn’t care less about filth or sewage, but that doesn’t mean they like being wet. They wanted a warm place to sleep. They wanted good food.

  And if they had some captives to torment, so much the better. It felt like so long since they had tortured and killed those adventurers who had come into the sewers a while back.

  That was why they had to seize this chance.

  Maybe there would be an elf among these adventurers. Or a human. Women, perhaps. There had to be!

  They sang an awful goblin song as they rowed along, completely out of sync with one another. Like many of the boats of those who had words, all hands aboard the goblin warship were soldiers. One ship might have been vulnerable. But this flotilla of three vessels would not have blinked at an entire party of novice adventurers.

  Or so the goblins believed, whatever the reality might have been. And that made them dangerous. The thought that they might still be weak even in a group never once crossed their minds. Their faces twisted with desire, spittle dribbling from their mouths, they devoted themselves to rowing faster.

  The eyes of the shaman, quite capable of seeing in the gloom, fixed on a single point of light—a flickering glow that could only be an adventurer’s lantern. Most unfortunately, humans needed light, for the dark made them blind. In the depths of these lightless holes, the goblins were at their strongest.

  Flush with the assurance of victory, they went toward the light, all unassuming.

  But they didn’t see any adventurers. In fact, they discovered the light was simply a reflection in the water.

  “ORAGARA!”

  “GORRR…”

  The shaman was suspicious; he gave one of his subordinates a smack with his staff and a jabbering rebuke. The goblin, who had simply had the bad luck to be near at hand, gave the water a searching, desultory poke with his oar.

  Then:

  “ORAGA?!”

  The goblin was missing his head.

  The pale jaws of some monster exploded out of the water.

  “GORARARARAB!!”

  “GORRRB! GROAB!!”

  The goblins set up a clamor as they rushed to their battle stations. In the grip of panic, some jumped overboard and tried to escape. Others stood and fought.

  It didn’t matter. The goblins closest to the water were the first to be torn to shreds.

  The shaman angrily waved his staff and began to chant a spell…

  “Looks like they have the numbers, but not the advantage,” Lizard Priest observed.

  “Mm. Can’t say I feel sorry for them,” Dwarf Shaman replied.

  The adventurers watched everything from the darkness of a side path.

  “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness.”

  Priestess prayed to the Earth Mother, protected from the rain by Goblin Slayer’s shield. In response to her prayer, the all-compassionate goddess sent the Holy Light miracle upon the alligator’s tail.

  “If I can’t use gas or fire or water, this is the best I can do.”

  Goblin Slayer sounded more than a little annoyed. Watching him wearily, High Elf Archer tried to comfort him.

  “Whatever. We survived, that’s what counts.”

  This is what adventures are supposed to be like! She sniffed and pushed out her thin chest. She was quite pleased, as was obvious from the jovial bouncing of her ears.

  “I can’t believe they fell for a little trick with some light, though.”

  “They’ve learned adventurers move by light.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know when, but at some point, it became conventional wisdom among them,” Goblin Slayer said, watching the battle in the sewer unfold. “They’re no more than scavengers. They have no concept of making things.”

  He was right. Goblins made clubs and stone tools or perhaps shaved down other equipment to fit themselves, but that was all. Items, food, livestock… They stole what they needed rather than producing it.

  And why not? Villages full of stupid humans were just waiting for them to come and take anything they wanted. Since they could sate themselves through theft, there was no reason for them to do anything else. As long as they could get enough girl children and adventurers, they were set.

  “Still, dull as they are, they’re not foolish,” Goblin Slayer continued, although he did not let his attention wander from the battle. “They learn to use items quickly. If you showed them how to build a boat, they would pick it up before long.”

  “You know them pretty well,” High Elf Archer said.

  “I’ve studied them closely,” Goblin Slayer replied immediately. “This is why I’m careful never to give them a new idea. I kill them instead.”

  Leaning against the wall, Dwarf Shaman stroked his beard.

  “What you’re saying is, someone taught them how to build those boats.”

  “Yes.”

  Priestess finished her prayer and let out a breath. She wiped sweat and rain from her brow.

  “Are you sure? Maybe the shaman came up with them…”

  “It’s possible. But if their numbers increased here naturally, then that…whatever that thing is…”

  “Um…the alligator?” Priestess offered.

  “…Right. That thing wouldn’t have surprised them. I don’t think they would have used boats if they’d known about it.” Muttering, he added, “Cowards to the core.”

  “What is it you’re getting at, milord Goblin Slayer?” Lizard Priest asked quietly.

  Goblin Slayer seemed to have something specific in mind. His response was all too pointed.

  “This goblin infestation is man-made.”

  Goblin Slayer waited until the sounds of battle had subsided, then suggested a temporary withdrawal.

  No one objected. They were out of spells and out of arrows. They didn’t have enough items and their strength was running low. They walked silently into the dim sewers, putting the battle between the goblins and the alligator behind them.

  Some time later they arrived at a ladder. They climbed to the surface only to be greeted by fat raindrops. Priestess was already soaked through, but
the drops just kept coming. She turned her tired face to the sky. In a small voice, she murmured:

  “It doesn’t look like the rain’s going to stop.”

  Very well. First, the subject of the Demon Lord, who was supposed to have been dealt with already.

  The wise men are already investigating due to rumors of some undesirable elements spreading evil teachings. While we await their report, inform the rulers so we can be prepared to respond at any time should she reach out to us.

  Next…what’s this? The rising price of potions?

  I see. Demand is rising and supply can’t keep up. A most serious concern. As adventurers, merchants, townspeople, and indeed, monsters grow more active, we’re seeing more injuries…

  Very well. Open the royal herb garden to all doctors associated with or assisting free clinics.

  Given what the world has come to, I suppose there’s no other choice. But I shall not relax the harvesting limits. Be more alert than ever for anyone trying to harvest illegally. Deal with such people firmly but fairly, excepting cases of justified self-defense.

  Next is… Hmm. This is the regular report from the Adventurers Association. This can wait.

  Minister, prepare a summary of this report, highlighting only the deeds of Silver ranks and higher. Then, find someone with the time to read through it and look for anything relating to the Dark Gods or the Demon Gods.

  Next…the alliance with the elves, the dwarves, and the lizardmen, is it?

  Gods. Diplomacy with demi-humans… Pardon me, that’s no longer polite, is it? …With other peoples is always such trouble. It’s not that they aren’t trustworthy, but their cultures are so different, and I can’t have them moving freely through my territories. We’ll accommodate them in every way possible, but do not let down your guard. I don’t want any problems.

  Yes—supplies. We mustn’t forget matériel for our own troops. How is the formation of the transport unit coming? I hear many of the lower ranks bring their own meals.

  And next…proposals for dealing with goblin damage, I see.

  From Sword Maiden. What, again? I haven’t enough men to send the army against every wild monster that wanders into a village. We have other problems! Dark Gods! Demon Gods! Can’t they deal with goblins on their own?

  Yes, such is my will on these matters… Hmm? Minister, I said that the adventurer report can wait…

  ……What’s this? From the wise men? …

  …Well, now. It seems one of them has not only found a hint of the evil ones’ plans, but also is already moving to neutralize it. Ah, it’s good to have help one can rely on! I think we can safely say we’ve seen the last of this little problem.

  Why? Because a Platinum adventurer—one of our great heroes—is going to deal with it!

  “Ahh…”

  Priestess let a smile spread over her face as the warm steam embraced her naked, rain-chilled body.

  Beyond an open door was a wide area of white marble, filled with elegant but not ostentatious carvings. The room was lined with benches to relax on amid the steam of the bath and its ever so slightly sweet aroma.

  The innermost area housed a statue of the Deity of the Basin, the beautiful goddess of the bath. Water flowed continuously into the wash bucket from the mouth of, of all things, a lion. The place was utterly luxurious. The water presumably came from the rivers that ran through the entire city.

  This would never have passed muster at the Temple of the Earth Mother, where adherents cherished poverty and had barely a rag to wash with. This, however, was the great bath of the Temple of Law—a steam bath. It was a fixture unique to the Temples of the Supreme God, who had commanded that those who administered the law ought to be pure of body.

  And this was the most elaborate of the Temples of Law on the frontier—words could hardly describe it!

  “…Right. Just for today.” With one hand, Priestess held a towel to cover her lovely chest; with the other, she made the sign of the Earth Mother.

  Her skin, usually covered by chain mail and a priestess’s vestments, was an almost translucent white. Priestess walked into the bath buoyantly, that pale skin moistening in the steam. Thankfully no other bathers were around, in part due to the late hour, so she didn’t hesitate to scoop an overflowing ladleful of water from the wash bucket.

  “Oh…!”

  The scent that wafted around the room came from the fragrant oils poured into the bucket.

  She had not had the impulse to dress up ever since she had been moved to join the clergy, but in the back of her mind, she recalled the elegant girls they’d passed several days earlier.

  “Well, I’ve come all the way here, after all. It’s all right.”

  She glanced left and right, then turned toward the statue of the Deity of the Basin made of fragrant Saunastone. The statue, heated to a very high temperature, boiled water in an instant, filling the room with rose-scented steam. The goddess was depicted as a naked woman; for balance, there was a statue of an old man in the men’s bath.

  Or so she had heard—Priestess herself, of course, had never been in the men’s bath.

  The Deity of the Basin was said to tell bathers their fortunes, but she didn’t have a temple of her own, nor followers. Or perhaps it could be said that every bath was her temple and every bather her disciple.

  Priestess, cloaked in steam, was quite thankful to be among the deity’s followers. She sat on a bench with a quiet thump. Next, she took up an accoutrement found in every bathhouse: a branch of white birch. She struck it against her body very gently, almost as if patting herself.

  “Mmm…”

  Her muscles, gone stiff and fatigued from long hours underground, began to relax. A few minutes later, when she had finished with the birch, her bare skin glowed a faint pink. She let out a long breath, leaning against the backrest of the long bench.

  “Everyone else should’ve come with me…”

  She’d asked if the elf wanted to come but had gotten a vigorous shake of the head in response.

  “It’s like…the spirits of fire and water and air are all mixed up together. I don’t like it much.”

  The dwarf and the lizardman had expressed a preference for wine and food over baths and headed off into town.

  And then there was Goblin Slayer.

  He had said something odd about sending a letter and shortly after was nowhere to be found.

  “Oh! I’ll come, too!” High Elf Archer had said and gone after him, and Priestess couldn’t say she didn’t understand how the archer felt.

  Sir Goblin Slayer…

  Yes, he was the one that Priestess’s thoughts settled on.

  “Gosh… It’s been half a year already…”

  Half a year since she had nearly died in that goblin den. Since he had saved her life.

  Even now, she had dreams of that adventure. Sometimes she saw herself not as she was, but as one of the girls kidnapped by the goblins. Sometimes she had a fleeting dream that she and the other three novices had come through the adventure safely.

  Both had been within the realm of possibility for her.

  What should she have done—that day, that hour? What was she supposed to have done?

  If.

  If she had finished her first adventure successfully…

  She certainly wouldn’t know any of the friends she had now. And then what would have happened in their fight in the underground ruins or with the goblin lord?

  What would have happened to the city, the people on the farm, all her friends, everyone she knew, all of the adventurers? And him—Goblin Slayer? Would he have survived?

  Priestess was not egotistical enough to believe she had saved his life, but…

  “He’s not such a bad person.”

  She brushed her hand over her waist, where he’d wrapped his arm around her not long before. Compared to his arm, hers looked thin and fragile. He looked like a hero—and sometimes an avenging demon—but he was probably neither of those things.

 
“……”

  At some point, Priestess had pulled her feet up onto the bench and curled up in a ball. Her head was pleasantly floaty from the steam, and thought after thought drifted through it like bubbles on the surface of the water. Surrendering herself to them, she felt an unusual combination of comfort and impatience.

  It was like waking up earlier than usual on a day when she didn’t have to work. She could just fall asleep like this. But maybe it would be better for her to get up and move. She had to do something. She felt there was something she had to do…

  “What should I do…?”

  “About what?”

  “Yikes!”

  When a gentle voice answered her dejected mumble, Priestess jumped up so quickly the bubbles went scattering everywhere. Her eyes darted up to see a body as plump as ripe fruit.

  “Hee-hee. The blood’s going to rush to your head at that rate.”

  “P-pardon me, I was just thinking aloud…”

  Priestess hurriedly bowed her head to the archbishop standing before her—Sword Maiden.

  “That’s quite all right,” she said, with a shake of her head that sent long waves through her beautiful golden hair. “On the contrary, I apologize for startling you. My duties kept me late…”

  Priestess found herself charmed by the woman. She didn’t wear so much as a thread of clothing, but she did not try to cover herself, nor show any concern at her nakedness. She was so well-endowed not even a woman could quite bring herself to look away. Her sole covering, the cloth over her eyes, somehow only made her more alluring. The atmosphere was almost reverent: Her body, dappled in sunlight and shadow, made her look different and freshly beautiful at every moment. What was more, steam on her body brought out the flush in her skin, such that even Priestess found herself swallowing heavily.

  But…

  “Um… Are those…?”

  Priestess’s voice faltered.

  Faint white lines ran along Sword Maiden’s otherwise perfect body. Many, many of them layered upon one another. Some narrow, some thick, long and short. Some ran straight as an arrow, while others made patterns as though they had been tugged and pulled. The slight pink tinge to her skin made them stand out all the more.