Goblin Slayer, Vol. 2

by Kumo Kagyu

  “Thanks. I’ll let you handle it.”

  Priestess still couldn’t fathom what was in his heart of hearts, but by now she had a fairly good idea of how he thought.

  The goblins had used that burial chamber as the site for an ambush, meaning it was clearly part of their territory. That meant the adventurers had to search the hidden staircase they had found behind the stone coffin, if for no other reason than that the champion was still alive.

  That battle had presumably weakened the goblins significantly, but it had taken its toll on the party as well.

  And time was on the goblins’ side.

  The party had a perfectly capable ranger, monk, and magic user, and they couldn’t afford to dawdle. In the meantime, the warrior and the priestess would stay behind to rest their minds and bodies and repair their equipment so as to be prepared for the next excursion.

  There was one problem, however.

  Perhaps due to the volume of customers, the workshop at the Adventurers Guild here didn’t take special orders. When Goblin Slayer had asked for leather armor, a shield, and a sword, he had been refused with a slow shake of the head.

  At length, he had determined to go out to buy what he needed, and Priestess had said she would go with him. She questioned him insistently, and although he gave clear answers…

  “I know everyone’s worried about you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your injuries are healed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your wounds were much worse than mine.”

  “Yes.”

  “You know not to do anything silly now, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hrm.” Priestess puffed out her cheeks and stopped walking.

  Goblin Slayer went several more steps before he noticed. He stopped and looked back; she only stared at him. He cocked his head, clearly unaware of any problem.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “…Sheesh! What do you mean, ‘What’s wrong’?” Priestess stuck out her finger straight at him. “I’m angry!” She furrowed her eyebrows as hard as she could, but she failed to intimidate.

  Partly, it was the stares of people around them. They must have thought the two adventurers were having a lovers’ quarrel or maybe that they were siblings fighting. Who could say? Passersby looked suspicious at first, but soon some smiles appeared among them.

  “Goblin Slayer—sir! Yes is the only thing you’ve said this entire conversation!”

  “Is it?”

  “It is!”

  “Is it…?”

  “And you say ‘Is it’ a lot, too!”

  “…Hrm.”

  Goblin Slayer crossed his arms and grunted.

  The pair stood silently, surrounded by the babble of the street. Birds flew lazily by in the blue sky above them while he mulled something over for a time. Finally, he gave a slow nod.

  “…I will change.”

  “Please do!” Priestess said and giggled.

  When an adventurer this serious said he would change, he surely would. They had only known each other a few months, but she knew that much.

  She set off again at a sprightly pace, and Goblin Slayer soon matched her. Before long, they were walking side by side again, Priestess once more level with his shoulders. Somehow, that in itself made her very happy.

  “You said something about shopping…?”

  “Yes,” he replied, then held up his hand as if to say wait. Apparently he had something to add.

  Another little chuckle escaped Priestess at his unpracticed show of consideration.

  “I am going to look at some weapons and armor. Mine are damaged.”

  Goblin Slayer’s helmet was turned toward her. It hid his face and any expression, but red eyes shone faintly within.

  “What will you do?”

  “Hmm…” Priestess put one slim finger to her lips and tilted her head. The breeze lifted her hair, blew it back behind her head.

  She figured the answer to what she was about to say was obvious, but…

  “Are you actually trying to ask my opinion?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Gosh…”

  Goblin Slayer seemed to think his reply was quite natural. Priestess sighed. For now she would live and let live. “My chain mail was ruined, too,” she answered dutifully, composing her expression. “I thought maybe there’d be somewhere I could get it fixed.”

  “It would probably be quicker to buy new.”

  Goblin Slayer’s answer was completely stone-faced.

  He really doesn’t get it. Priestess looked up at him with half-closed eyes.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  This time it was Goblin Slayer’s turn to look perplexed.

  Priestess clutched the bundle containing her chain mail and murmured, “Because…this is the first thing I did that you praised me for.”

  Goblin Slayer stopped and looked at her.

  Priestess adjusted the bundle in her arms as if to show him a treasure. Shy, she averted her eyes.

  “You don’t remember? You said it was a little rough but would stop a blade.”

  “Did I?” His voice seemed somehow strained, and then he whispered, “I suppose I did.”

  They entered a rather prosperous-looking equipment shop.

  The clangs of a hammer striking metal came from deep in the store. Weapons and armor were strewn about the dim interior. It had a vitality that was lacking in the guild workshop.

  “Wow…” Priestess blinked several times, understandably overwhelmed.

  It was full of weapons she had never seen, armor she couldn’t imagine how to wear, and one curio after another. She noticed one weapon she did recognize in the midst of it all and picked it up gently with a soft breath.

  “They’ve even got flails.” These consisted of two sticks with heavy metal fasteners connected by a chain; they were said to have evolved from a threshing tool. Clergy of the Earth Mother had been known to use them, and Priestess puffed out her little chest proudly at her modicum of knowledge.

  “Going to buy it?”

  “No…” She scanned the room at Goblin Slayer’s blunt question. She lacked the courage to stand in the party’s front row, and for personal protection, she had her sounding staff. “…I guess not.”

  Priestess carefully returned the flail to its shelf, then started as she noticed a man who appeared to be the shopkeeper.

  “Um, excuse me…”

  “Hmm?” The man eyed her, and Priestess looked to the floor.

  He was young, maybe about twenty, but he had the air of a teenager who had only just grown up.

  It wasn’t that he seemed uncouth. His clothes were neat, his hair and beard well trimmed. But his disinterested answer made him seem oddly cold.

  “Hrm. Welcome, welcome. What can I do for you?”

  “Ah, ahem… Could you…repair this chain mail?”

  Priestess held out her armor hesitantly, and the shopkeeper gave it a once-over. Then, he reached into the hole at the shoulder, spread out the armor, and exhaled.

  “That’s some hole. Don’t you think it’d be better to get a new set?”

  “I’d rather…have it repaired…”

  “Repair, sure. Customer’s always right…”

  The man’s gaze ran along Priestess’s slim arms. Unreserved, lewd, he looked her up and down as if drinking her in.

  “Need a makeover, miss?”

  “N-no thank you…!” Priestess shook her head, feeling a hot flush in her cheeks.

  Was this how shopkeepers in the city normally treated their customers? It would have been unthinkable on the frontier.

  Or was he simply making light of her because she was so clearly a novice? The thought pained her.

  “I need some repairs done, too.”

  It was Goblin Slayer. When Priestess raised her eyes again, they were met with a mail-clad back.

  Faced with the grimy steel helmet, the shopk
eeper let out a strange gurgle.

  “A S-Silver rank…,” the shopkeeper’s voice quaked. Apparently he had noticed the silver tag hanging around Goblin Slayer’s neck. “Ah, y-yes, sir. Repairs. Of course, sir.”

  “My leather armor and my round shield. Quickly, if you don’t mind. Along with that chain mail.”

  “W-would you like them cleaned? And your shield appears to be missing its grip…”

  “Don’t clean them. And I removed the grip myself.”

  “Ahem, as to payment, sir, including the rush fee…”

  “Don’t worry.”

  Without flinching, Goblin Slayer dug in his bag and dropped a leather purse on the counter. It made a heavy thump as it landed and slumped over. Gold coins spilled from the mouth.

  “Th-thank you, sir…!”

  “I’ll need to have a look at your swords, too.”

  “Oh, um, I have a mithril blade in at the moment!”

  “I don’t need it.”

  His bold, unconcerned stride carried him over to where a variety of swords were mounted on the wall. He took one down with a completely average double-edged blade. It had a long grip: a “one-and-a-half-handed” sword.

  “Ahh, if that’s the kind of blade you prefer, sir, I have a dwarf-forged…”

  “Too long.”

  He shoved the sword back onto the rack, then started going through merchandise until he came up with a small single-edged sword.

  “Are short swords more to your liking, sir? I have an enchanted one found in some ruins…”

  “Enchanted?”

  “Yes, sir!” The shopkeeper’s voice went up an octave. “It keeps the blade from dulling, of course, but also sounds an alarm when enemies are near.”

  “I don’t need it.” His tone was blunt enough to be a weapon itself. “I’ll take this one. It’s a bit long, but I can grind it down myself. I’ll borrow your whetstone while we wait for our repairs.”

  “B-but, sir… With a blade like that, the best you could hope to hunt is…goblins…”

  “That’s what I plan to do.”

  The shopkeeper had nothing to say to that.

  But Goblin Slayer, as ever, seemed to take no notice. Perhaps he was trying to say to her: Don’t let it get to you.

  He was a hard one to fathom.

  Priestess turned faintly red and let out a soft, quiet sigh.

  “Hee-hee… Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

  “What?”

  “B-because you—He—”

  As they left the shop after having their repairs done, an afternoon breeze swirled around them. The blue sky shone with the early summer sun, and the babbling of a nearby stream was pleasant to their ears.

  “I—I know I shouldn’t laugh, but…”

  Priestess wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, her laugh as clear as a bell.

  The flummoxed shopkeeper had tried to say something as Goblin Slayer ground the sword shorter and shorter, but—

  “‘I’m only going to throw it; it doesn’t matter’!”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “But the face he made! It was incredible!”

  “Was it?”

  “Yes, it was!” Priestess finally managed between gales of laughter.

  She presumed this behavior was not becoming for a disciple of the Earth Mother, but it certainly felt good. Her conscience berated her, so she also sent up a little prayer: Just a bit won’t hurt anything, will it?

  Just then…

  “Step right up! Delicious, melt-in-your-mouth ‘ice crème’! It’s a taste sensation!”

  A voice rang out above the din, along with a jangling handbell.

  “Ice crème…?”

  Curiosity brought Priestess to a standstill in front of a cramped stall. Children cheered and rushed across the paved street to give the owner their change.

  “I wonder what that place is selling.”

  From this distance, it was hard to tell, but judging by the children’s expressions, it was some kind of sweet.

  Priestess peeked at Goblin Slayer, who nodded and said, “Go ahead.”

  “Yes, sir! Thank you!”

  Priestess gave a deep bob of her head, all smiles, then ran off, her hair flowing behind her.

  She was a little embarrassed to line up with the children, but…

  I’m still only fifteen myself.

  It was just a difference of two or three years, she told herself. And finally she got one of the sweets for herself.

  Ice crème turned out to look like melting white ice. It had a bright red cherry on top, perhaps to give it some color. Priestess spooned some of the treat out of its crispy, fried bowl and into her mouth.

  “W-wow!”

  Instantly, her cheeks flushed, and a smile blossomed on her face. She turned to Goblin Slayer with a mix of surprise and excitement.

  “This is amazing! It’s cold and sweet—!”

  “You like it?”

  “Yes, very much! At the Temple, we didn’t get to eat many sweet things…” She smiled bashfully with a small giggle. “I feel like I’m breaking the rules…just a little.”

  “I see. Hmm. An iced treat.”

  Goblin Slayer observed the stall with a certain amount of fascination.

  The ice crème was stored in a well-cooled metal vessel. It would be scooped out and piled in the bowls. As far as he could tell, there was no sign of magic involved.

  That was to say, the tanned shopkeeper did not appear to be any kind of wizard.

  “…This is no spell. How do you make it?”

  “Wellll, I gotta say it’s a mystery to me how it works.” The shopkeeper didn’t seem bothered by the question; he continued to smile as he slid a lid over the vessel. “Some professor discovered that water cools faster if you put some impurities in it.”

  “Hmm?”

  “And if ye add more of the stuff to the ice, it gets even icier!”

  “I see.”

  “Want some chilled wine? Easy with this stuff, believe you me—works on fruit, too.”

  “Hmm.”

  “So he thought, what if you tried it on cow’s milk? And here we are!”

  “I see. Very interesting.” He sounded as intrigued as a child who had learned the secret to a magic trick. It was such an unfamiliar tone for him that it caused Priestess to blink several times.

  Goblin Slayer took a large gold coin out of his pouch and gave it to the shopkeeper.

  “One, please. Keep the change.”

  “Certainly, sir!”

  The ecstatic shopkeeper scooped out the ice crème with a practiced movement. Goblin Slayer watched him, transfixed.

  “…Hee-hee.”

  Goblin Slayer looked back, mystified by the chuckle that escaped Priestess.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just finally figured out how you came to know so much, sir.”

  “…I see.”

  Maybe it would be nice to sit down calmly instead of standing while they ate. At Priestess’s suggestion, the two of them settled on a bench along the roadside.

  They sat side by side, spooning the treat into their mouths and savoring its chill and sweetness on their tongues, watching the crowds go by.

  When Priestess stole a sideways glance, she found him eating through his visor, as usual.

  Warm sunlight filtered through the trees. A cool breeze blew across the water. People chattered merrily. Well-dressed men and women passed by, while children dashed about with huge smiles on their faces. Horse-drawn carriages rumbled along the neatly laid flagstones.

  “It’s strange, isn’t it?” Priestess whispered, furrowing her brow at the scene. “None of these people have any idea there are goblins right under their feet…”

  “…Yes.”

  “Some people have been hurt, and I’m sure…they’re probably afraid of that, but…”

  But nobody seemed to really care. Not the clerk at the equipment shop. Not the ice crème seller. No one whiling away the hours here.r />
  What about her frontier town? She had felt the threat of monsters was real and near, but…

  “…When I was little…,” he murmured.

  “What…?”

  “There was a time when I thought that if I took a single step, the earth might open up beneath me and I would die.”

  “Huh…?”

  The spoon went still in Priestess’s hand as Goblin Slayer spoke.

  “I was afraid to walk at all.”

  The cherry tumbled from the top of her melted ice crème and rolled to the bottom. She ignored it and focused on Goblin Slayer’s face, even though she could not see his expression behind his helmet.

  “Such a thing is not impossible. But nobody ever worried about it. I found that strange.”

  But he seemed to laugh quietly.

  “My sister laughed at me—and so did she—but it was quite some time before I realized that, scared or not, I had to walk.”

  “Is that…? Is that right?”

  “That is right.”

  The wind slipped between them, bringing with it a sibilance of leaves.

  “But even now, I am terribly afraid.”

  Of what and why, he did not say. Nor did Priestess consider asking.

  It had only been a few months since they’d met, but she had been with him constantly all that time. There was no way she could fail to understand.

  “I appreciate your help,” Goblin Slayer said, forcing himself to sound detached and cool, as usual. “But your help is not strictly necessary.”

  Priestess didn’t answer.

  She looked down and swirled her spoon aimlessly in her melted ice crème. Finally, she picked up the cherry and popped it into her mouth. Amid the bittersweet taste was the hard pit.

  She puffed out her cheeks, affecting a sulk.

  “You said to do what I liked, didn’t you?”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “…”

  “…You really are beyond help.”

  Goblin Slayer looked up at the blue sky, as if unsure whether he should respond to this.

  Priestess toyed with the stem of the cherry between her lips, paying no regard to etiquette.

  Finally, she said just one short word.

  “Sorry.”

  “I don’t want to hear that.”

  “…Sorry.”

  “…Not that I really care.”