Goblin Slayer Side Story: Year One, Vol. 2

by Kumo Kagyu

  “I see…!”

  The light now revealed two wolves, yowling as they came closer, splattering through the filth. There had been no fork in the path to this point. They would have to meet the creatures head-on. Hiding was impossible.

  Letting these thoughts continue to run in a corner of his mind, Goblin Slayer immediately brought up the torch in his left hand. There was a clang as he swept aside the first wolf, which had leaped at him, slamming it into the wall.

  Goblin Slayer used the torch he had as a club, meanwhile drawing his sword with his other hand.

  “Hrgh…?!”

  But the wolf won out in speed and body mass. He slashed the creature from shoulder to chest, but its thick pelt kept the wound from being fatal. The momentum of the monster’s charge sent Goblin Slayer sprawling backward. His sword fell from his hand, clattering to the stone floor, and grime splashed up under his steel helmet.

  Fangs ripe with the stench of flesh gnashed inches away from his throat.

  If it reaches my neck, I’m done for…!

  Without hesitation, Goblin Slayer let go of the torch, bringing his shield around to deflect the fangs.

  The animal who had been slammed into the wall had regained its footing and was coming his way as well. There was no time.

  He gave up any thought of retrieving his sword, instead reaching for the spear at his back.

  “Take…this…!”

  He worked the rotten haft like a lever, splitting it in two, and then he grabbed it in a reverse grip, shoving the butt end into the wolf’s eye.

  A howl. The creature’s feet were scrambling to back away, but he grabbed them, mashing the eyeball further with the spear. Digging into the brain.

  “……Next!”

  He shoved aside the frothing, twitching wolf and stood up. The other animal jumped at him, saliva running from its mouth.

  Goblin Slayer ducked low and rolled forward, passing under the creature. He grabbed the torch off the ground with his left hand as he went.

  “Hrr—ahh…!”

  He turned around again, jamming the torch into the wolf’s belly. The creature yelled, and there was the rancid smell of burning flesh and fur.

  A torch was not, of course, intended to serve as a weapon. The flame promptly went out.

  Goblin Slayer, though, shoved the still-glowing stick into the wolf’s mouth, dealing the final blow despite the extinguished flame.

  “Very nice. A well-judged fight.”

  “The real mission is still to come.” Steadying his breathing, Goblin Slayer picked up his sword. From his item pouch, he produced another torch, which went into his left hand, same as before.

  “Arma…inflammarae…offero. Gift a spark to weapons.” Unexpectedly, there was a sound of fingers snapping, and then a spit of flame.

  The glowing fire darted through the air and connected with the torch, setting it alight.

  Arc Mage tapped the floor of the disgusting goblin nest with the heel of her long boot, then smiled. “In the name of red magic. Now go ahead and keep protecting your quest giver, my little Goblin Slayer.”

  “Very good,” Goblin Slayer said briefly, then he settled into a fighting posture, preparing for the army whose steps he could hear thundering down the hallway.

  The cheap-looking steel helmet, the grimy leather armor, the torch and the sword of a strange length in his hands, the small round shield on his arm.

  “The goblins—I’m going to kill them all.”

  The battle began.

  §

  “GOROB! GOROBG!”

  “GOOROGGB!!”

  It’s an adventurer. A pitiful, weak-looking adventurer. And a woman, too. Kill! Rape!

  The goblins rushed forward, a panoply of crude weapons in their hands, filthy saliva dangling from their mouths.

  Goblin Slayer met them in the narrow corridor.

  “Two… Three!”

  “GGB?!”

  “GOROG! GBBGB?!”

  Keeping Arc Mage behind him, he deflected a rusty dagger against his shield, then struck back with his sword. He kicked aside the first still-twitching corpse, into the path of the second oncoming goblin. Then in the same motion, he threw his weapon at a third lollygagging monster.

  “GBGB?!”

  “Four—five!”

  He pulled out the dagger that had lodged in his shield, slamming it into the skull of the third goblin, who was just clearing the corpse with evident annoyance. This enemy fell over, limbs flailing; Goblin Slayer swept up his club and used it in like manner against the fourth charging monster.

  “GOROGORB?!”

  Including the first guard, that made five.

  A little swinging of weaponry and bashing with a shield, though, wasn’t going to slow down the goblins.

  “Boy, what a show of force! I’m afraid I might fall in love, here.” Arc Mage, who had come up to get a look at the fighting, said something unthinkable, and then cackled loudly. “Relying on numbers, though? Very goblin-esque but not very sophisticated— Whoops!”

  She sounded like a theatergoer surprised by a twist in the plot.

  “GOROGB!”

  “GBB! GROGOB!”

  Goblin Slayer gave a click of his tongue. Those goblin voices were coming from behind. So the brood had circled around, flanking them through the entrance!

  “Makes sense. They couldn’t tunnel through the walls here, but they achieve the same thing this way. Wonder if they had a back door.”

  “Stand with your back to the wall!” he shouted.

  “Oh sure,” Arc Mage replied and dutifully turned. Goblin Slayer stood in front of her.

  In his right hand, he held a club, in his left, a torch. He held out his arms, menacing the goblins on either side. If there was no attack from behind, this would allow him to protect her—at least as long as he survived.

  “Six!”

  “GOBOGOR?!”

  Holding the goblin to his right at bay with the club, he clubbed the goblin to his left with the torch. The magical flame crackled and engulfed the goblin’s head, burning it to a crisp.

  “GGGOB?!”

  “Like it? I told you there was more to us than simply flinging fireballs.”

  Enchant Fire.

  Goblin Slayer had no special interest in the names of the spells she could incant. Kicking aside the screaming, writhing goblin, he immediately transferred the flame of the torch to his club.

  Now with two burning weapons, Goblin Slayer began lashing out at monsters left and right.

  “Seven… Eight! Nine! …Ten!”

  Right, left. Each time he swung one of the burning brands, a trail of sparks followed, a glowing arc hovering in the air.

  Magical weapons were not necessary for killing goblins—but arcane fire, that was more than enough to give them pause. The monsters didn’t know what to do in the face of the roaring, flaming weapons but continued to lash out mercilessly.

  “GGGBGOR?!”

  “GOB?! GGOBOGOG?!”

  There was the smell of frying goblin flesh, the stink of boiling blood, and brains and bits of skull flying everywhere.

  “It’s an awfully excessive spell to cast on a club, though…”

  Goblin Slayer heard Arc Mage’s murmur at the same time as the flame on his club disappeared.

  He had killed well more than ten goblins already, and the tide of monsters was beginning to ebb.

  Goblin Slayer let out a deep breath. His shoulders heaved, and he wiped sweat from his eyes: He was alive. She was safe.

  He could see, though, that his torch and club had reached their limits; he nonchalantly tossed them down at his feet. In their place, he trod on the fingers of one of the corpses, taking the sturdiest-looking sword available.

  He worked hard to control his breathing as he asked, “…How many more?”

  Endurance, physical strength, was not a problem to be solved in one fell swoop—but now more than ever, he felt keenly the need to continue to train.

  “Good q
uestion,” Arc Mage replied cheerfully. “Considering the villagers’ accounts and the number of footprints we saw by the entrance, I’d have to guess we’re about through.” She sat down on a piece of rock wall that had come loose, and she chuckled. “You’re quite the fighter, though. I’m afraid I really might fall in love with you.”

  “I see.”

  “You’re hard to get a rise out of.”

  “I would not want to take you seriously if you were joking.”

  “If I couldn’t throw someone into a tizzy with just a few words, well, I wouldn’t be quite sure what to do with myself… Oops, here they come.”

  Of course, Goblin Slayer didn’t need her to tell him that; he heard it, too. Heavy, dull footsteps, bum, bum. They were coming closer through the ruins, and they sounded like something he had heard just the other day.

  A massive form filled the passageway—but that wasn’t all. At the form’s feet hid a slithering shadow.

  “A hob, and…”

  “…Ah-ha, one of those shamans. This nest was on its way to reaching stage two, I see.”

  The giant goblin looked absolutely idiotic. The one by his feet held a staff and looked considerably more intelligent.

  He didn’t know which of them was the leader. But he was sure that he was at last facing the chieftain of the horde.

  “I guess that means the decoration earlier was a totem of some kind,” Arc Mage murmured, realization dawning.

  Goblin Slayer didn’t really understand. He was paying attention to something else.

  The hobgoblin had a “shield” in his hand.

  The shield was in the form of a person. Like a doll with its hands and legs bent in obscene directions.

  “Ah… Ee…”

  There hadn’t been any reports of captured village women. She must be a wanderer, then, or perhaps a traveler. The hobgoblin thrust his shield about as if showing the woman off. She cried out as her breasts were smashed into the wall.

  The goblins cackled. This wasn’t about their dead companions; they were making fun of the pathetic condition of the shield, and these adventurers who were surely no threat to them.

  “……”

  “Well, isn’t that awful,” Arc Mage said as if it hardly concerned her. “I wonder if she’s pregnant. Gosh, I sure wouldn’t mind getting a look at that baby.”

  Goblin Slayer ignored her, steadying his breathing. He slowly rotated his sword in his hand.

  The world wavered. He held his breath. Fixed his aim. Lowered his arm. Just the slightest bit.

  He had learned something from the fight earlier.

  They don’t know how to use shields.

  “GOROGOBOGOR?!?!”

  The goblin—the hobgoblin—gave an earsplitting screech. The monster didn’t understand what had happened to him, but no doubt he wouldn’t have believed it had he known. He never would have believed that a sword had been stabbed into his exposed thigh, which he couldn’t hide behind his shield…

  “Hrrr—ahh!” Goblin Slayer reached behind himself with his right hand, pulled out the broken spear, and jumped in. The goblin shaman, aware of the hobgoblin’s shameful mistake, jabbered and waved his staff.

  “GOBOOGOB…!”

  “Spell incoming!” Arc Mage shouted. It was all right. He knew.

  “GOROOOGOB?!”

  “Heeek…?!”

  The hobgoblin sent his captive spinning through the air; Goblin Slayer caught her. She was light. This wouldn’t stop his momentum. He jumped in, deep, wielding the spear in one hand.

  “Ten—and one!!”

  “GOBOOROG?! GOBOG?!”

  He closed the distance, not worried what he hit so long as it would stop the spell. The mouth and tongue. Crush the throat. The rusty spear tip all but shattered as it lodged in the shaman’s windpipe. The monster howled.

  Goblin Slayer kicked aside the creature choking on its own blood and turned toward the hobgoblin.

  “GORGGBBBB…!”

  “This is twelve…!”

  He held nothing in his hands. But there was a weapon right in front of him.

  Zigging and zagging, Goblin Slayer ducked in and kicked the flailing hobgoblin in the crotch.

  “GOOBBGBGRGBG?!”

  And there was the sword, too, of course.

  It buried itself up to the hilt; he could feel the soft sensation of internal organs giving way.

  But I know that’s not enough to kill you.

  “GOROGBB?!?!”

  He laid the prisoner on the ground and set upon the writhing hobgoblin. The shield on his left arm came around. It might have been easier if he’d honed it more. He felt some regret at that.

  The metal edge smashed deep into the hobgoblin’s skull. Then another blow. Brains came flying out.

  A few twitches followed and nothing more. The tremor of the death rattle set the thick limbs stiff.

  And that was the end.

  §

  The fire crackled and sparked, smoke drifting along with the awful smell in the air. The stench in the dim ruins was even more stomach-turning than before.

  “Here’s the stomach, and here’s the small intestine… But I guess you knew that, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is where food is digested. Here’s the bladder and the testicles. A man’s…you know. That’s a vital point.”

  Arc Mage had a cloth over her mouth and was using a blade curved like a cat’s claw to perform an autopsy.

  “Don’t know if this one’s big or small.” She sounded like she was making a joke, but Goblin Slayer listened intently.

  Lying in front of them was a goblin, his abdomen torn cruelly open and his guts spilled out. He wasn’t the only one; several of the other goblin corpses had been likewise disemboweled.

  “Now that’s enough to make a woman cry.” Arc Mage chuckled, plucking at the goblin’s member with her fingers. “It looks like it’s true they don’t have any females, though. Nobody in this whole crowd has a womb or eggs.”

  The battle had ended, and the sun had gone down, bringing on the night, which was the goblins’ time. Should he really have let the woman wearing the apron covered with congealed goblin blood do such a leisurely dissection? Goblin Slayer was still wondering that even as both of them sat surrounded by viscera.

  “If there are any left, they might come back,” Arc Mage had said, but strangely enough, she was the one who suggested they pitch camp there for the night.

  Goblin Slayer still found her reasoning difficult to fathom. Did she want to hurry up and do the dissections before any remaining goblins came back, or was her plan to do the work while waiting to ambush any returnees…?

  “We sure don’t want her to get attacked by goblins again, do we?” A chuckle. She indicated the girl, who had been given first aid, wrapped in a blanket, and then magically put to sleep.

  Whatever the case, this was preferable to being attacked while moving, trying to carry both goblin corpses and an unconscious former captive. All Goblin Slayer could do was nod, and after that, there was only one course of action.

  “Help me with the dissection, please.” Arc Mage’s movements were preternaturally smooth and graceful. Her eyes reflected a catlike glint as she performed the operation, her pale fingertips becoming stained with dark cruor.

  “The position of the liver and kidneys isn’t so different from in a human,” she said. “Can’t speak to the internal structure of other races, though.”

  “I see.”

  “You know how rarely you get a chance to dissect an elf or a dwarf? And rhea thieves never seem to hang themselves, either.” She rooted through the goblin’s guts with a kind of compassionate artlessness, pulling out the liver. “Land a hit here, and it really hurts; give it a good stab, and it bleeds all over. You’d need a miracle to save you.”

  “…In the past, goblins have sometimes kept on going even though I stabbed them in the stomach,” Goblin Slayer said, voicing a question he’d had for a long time. “Why is tha
t?”

  “Toughness… Or maybe I should say, hit points.”

  Arc Mage diligently pointed out that she couldn’t be sure without seeing it for herself, before she started speaking. They hadn’t known each other very long, but she seemed to be someone who willingly admitted when she didn’t understand things and wouldn’t spout off about things she didn’t know. That was a quality for which Goblin Slayer was immensely grateful. There was little more frustrating than trusting ill-founded advice and then feeling like a fool.

  If you’re going to dine with long-lost relatives, do your research on them first, his master had told him.

  “Sometimes you hit a vital point, but they don’t die instantly,” Arc Mage said. “Or perhaps it’s that the blade is stopped by muscle or fat and never reaches the spot necessary to deal a killing blow.”

  “That makes sense.” Goblin Slayer touched the sword that served him so faithfully (though he didn’t think of it in those terms). It was disposable, of a strange length. Too short to use on the battlefield proper, too long to cart around everywhere simply for personal protection. Exactly the right size for killing goblins in enclosed spaces—but perhaps he should try to avoid stabbing the big ones with it…?

  But stabbing was a much more certain kill than slashing. He would be foolish to ignore what was proven to work.

  “Where should I aim?”

  “Hmm. Just a moment, please.” Arc Mage sounded like he had placed an order at a restaurant. She began digging through the goblin corpse again.

  Watching her, he realized how rough and unrefined his own earlier dissections had been. The presence of specialist knowledge and techniques made itself known in the little details. Goblin Slayer fixed his eyes on her and listened attentively so that none of those experienced movements or words would escape him.

  “……Okay, there are major arteries in the thigh, under the armpit, and in the neck. The respiratory tract is approximately the same as in people, too. Those are your targets.”