Goblin Slayer, Vol. 4

by Kumo Kagyu

  Copyright

  KUMO KAGYU

  Translation by Kevin Steinbach Cover art by Noboru Kannatuki

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  GOBLIN SLAYER vol. 4

  Copyright © 2017 Kumo Kagyu

  Illustrations copyright © 2017 Noboru Kannatuki

  All rights reserved.

  Original Japanese edition published in 2017 by SB Creative Corp.

  This English edition is published by arrangement with SB Creative Corp., Tokyo, in care of Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Kagyū, Kumo, author. | Kannatuki, Noboru, illustrator.

  Title: Goblin slayer / Kumo Kagyu ; illustration by Noboru Kannatuki.

  Other titles: Goburin sureiyā. English

  Description: New York, NY : Yen On, 2016–

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016033529 | ISBN 9780316501590 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316553223 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316553230 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316411882 (v. 4 : pbk.)

  Subjects: LCSH: Goblins—Fiction. | GSAFD: Fantasy fiction.

  Classification: LCC PL872.5.A367 G6313 2016 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016033529

  ISBNs: 978-0-316-41188-2 (paperback)

  978-0-316-44824-6 (ebook)

  E3-20171114-JV-PC

  A shining star: the promise of a hundred suns in the heavens.

  A colored thread: one stitch in a finished cloth.

  A drop of rain: one fleck of a surging sea.

  An adventurer’s scar: one story in a hero’s legend.

  A thousand thousands; ten thousand ten thousands: together they rise higher than the mountains.

  Thus the world is made, regardless of how the dice may fall.

  The cheap blade cut through the miasma with a fwwsh, and a giant rat, fat and round, came flying at them.

  “Eeyikes!”

  Its wide, dirty front teeth were sharp, its malodorous breath summoning images of their untimely demise.

  Overwhelmed, he stumbled backward, batting at the creature with his well-used round shield.

  “GYURI?!”

  The rat fell to the ground with a cry, but it quickly scrambled up again. No damage.

  Rookie Warrior shook out his left arm, which had gone numb from the impact despite the shield, and tried to regain his footing.

  “Come on, why didn’t you hit it back?”

  “My whole arm hurts!”

  Behind him, Apprentice Priestess admonished him in her strident, nasal voice. She held a combined sword-and-scales in one hand and a lantern in the other while frowning deeply.

  The sewers reeked with a rotten stench that threatened to turn his stomach. Even keeping his nose blocked didn’t help.

  The slick footing. Wastewater flowing nearby. Giant rats with a bite that threatened much worse than simple pain. The vermin that writhed everywhere.

  All of this was no different from normal. But it still put Rookie Warrior on the verge of tears.

  One day down here, one gold coin in your pocket, they say.

  That was if you met your quota. And that was an important source of income for making a living.

  Still, shouldn’t adventurers at least be dealing with goblins or something…?

  “Watch out, dummy, here it comes!”

  “—?!”

  His friend’s shout brought his attention back, and he heaved a great thrust with his sword, not even looking where he aimed.

  “GYAARU?!?!”

  He pierced fur and flesh and sinewy heart. The sensation was unpleasant.

  It was accompanied by a gush of warm liquid that spattered across the boy’s face.

  He leaned against the thrashing hunk of meat and cried out.

  “H-hrkk…?!”

  When he shoved the rat off his sword, it fell, still twitching, to the ground.

  The black pool of blood at his feet seeped across the ground, soaking his boots.

  “Hey, are you all right? It didn’t bite you?”

  “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

  “…………Okay.”

  Apprentice Priestess put on her best show of nonchalance, but even so, she hurried to Rookie Warrior’s side. Heedless of her white robes, she wiped at the blood on his cheek, and some smeared her fingers.

  “It didn’t get in your eyes, did it? What about your mouth?”

  “Ugh. A little.”

  “What were you doing? Gosh.”

  With an exasperated mutter, she took an antidote out of the bag of items she was carrying.

  Rookie Warrior was spitting out blood and washing his mouth with the canteen. He downed the bitter antidote gratefully.

  Both of them were still Porcelain rank. For them, the Cure miracle, for healing poison, was as much a dream as full plate armor or a suit of mail.

  Still, they could not be underestimated—as the former monster, now an inert lump on the floor, could attest.

  The rat had been busy with something: a corpse clad in rags. The figure’s empty eye sockets and ruined cheekbones suggested a vagrant, but around its gnawed-out throat hung a level tag.

  Apprentice Priestess took the porcelain-colored tag, wrapped it gently in a handkerchief, and put it in her bag.

  The unfortunate girl—they knew she was a girl, for the tag identified her as such—had not been wearing any armor. She had gone down into the sewers with nothing but her clothes and a stick, and the rats, most likely, had eaten her.

  “…Ugh,” Rookie Warrior said. “They’re back.”

  “Don’t sound so unhappy. This is our job, isn’t it?”

  Perhaps it was the death of its kin that drew it, or simply the smell of spilt blood, but another rat had appeared from the sewer depths.

  The creature was bigger than an infant child, its shadow wavering in the lantern light.

  “We need the ear to prove we killed it,” said Apprentice Priestess. “Quick, cut it off before it gets chewed on!”

  “The ear? Me?”

  “Just do it!”

  “You could act just a little more concerned for me, you know…”

  Even as he muttered, the boy grabbed the hilt of his sword, still stuck in the rat’s carcass, and gave it a tug.

  “…Huh?”

  It wouldn’t come out.

  No matter how hard he pulled, the sword, lodged firmly in the meat, refused to budge.

  He braced himself for l
everage against the corpse—now weirdly soft after its violent passing—but to no avail.

  And as he stood there struggling, one of the live rats, its eyes burning brightly, was drawing ever nearer.

  “N-no—!” he gasped. “H-hold on a minute…!”

  “Here it comes! Do something, dummy, it’s getting closer!”

  “E-eeyikes!”

  It was the work of an instant:

  Rookie Warrior tumbled backward to avoid the rat’s jaws, landing in a pile of waste. The rotten food, or whatever it was, slopped over him, but it was better than being bitten and risking an infection. A critical hit from those teeth and his throat could be torn out altogether.

  “GURUUURRRU…!”

  The giant rat growled, whipping its tail back and forth, menacing Rookie Warrior. It probably saw the unarmed boy and the little girl studiously hanging back behind him as simply more food. It looked at them as a bit of saliva dribbled from its mouth, the very image of hunger. It obviously had no intention of letting them get away.

  Of course, if they ran, the adventurers would not get to eat, either—albeit for more indirect reasons.

  “Ahhh, darn it all!” Apprentice Priestess gave an unmannerly click of her tongue.

  Giant rats…Giant rats spread illness and are dirty and one is attacking us right now, and they are enemies of Order—enemies of Order!

  She seemed to be trying to remind herself of all this as she lifted the sword-and-scales high and as light began to build around it. It grew into a sword of lightning.

  “Lord of judgment, sword-prince, scale-bearer, display here your power!”

  And then Holy Smite, which she had called forth from the gods, pierced the rat with its blade.

  Emitting a wisp of smoke and the smell of burning flesh, the giant rat soared through the air before bouncing and rolling over, dead.

  The boy pursed his lips with a sound of displeasure as the girl let out a relieved breath.

  “Lucky you. The gods make everything nice and easy, don’t they?”

  “Oh, save it. You know I can only call on them once per day.” Apprentice Priestess glared at Rookie Warrior for his show of disrespect. “Anyway, hurry up and get your sword. I want to collect those ears and then go home and take a long bath.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Rookie Warrior approached the body of the first rat hesitantly, and this time put his whole strength into extracting his sword.

  Then…

  Scrrrape.

  “…”

  “…”

  It was a sound they did not like. The two adventurers looked at each other at the unexpected noise, stiff with fright.

  Scrr…

  Scrape.

  Scrrrape…

  Scrape.

  The sound came from deep in the darkness.

  Trembling, Apprentice Priestess raised the lantern.

  Something black and glimmering resolved into the shape of a huge insect. It shone as though covered in oil. One of them, two…then many, many more. Even at a quick count, it was clear they numbered greater than ten.

  While reaching out with their long, thin antennae, the creatures approached slowly.

  They were coming straight for the adventurers, jaws wide.

  “Oh—”

  Apprentice Priestess’s voice caught in her throat, before—

  “Noooooooo!”

  “Idiot! Don’t shout, run!”

  The pair grabbed what they could and scrambled out of the sewers in a panic.

  A terrible scraping sound told them the black insects were still right on their heels.

  How far was it to the exit, again?

  Rookie Warrior reflected: he wouldn’t ask for a dragon. Maybe goblins, at least—although they could drag out your final moments and make it horrific. But of all things, the way he least wanted to die was to be eaten alive by giant roaches.

  §

  The spring twilight was warm, as if heralding the coming of summer.

  “Hrg…ggrrh…”

  Rookie Warrior woke to a morning light that pierced his eyes, stretching on the hay to work out his stiff body.

  He took a deep breath and exhaled, the air an unpleasant blend of alcohol and animal musk.

  Greeting a new day in the stables was still better than being in the sewers.

  The Adventurers Guild had an inn, of course, but it wasn’t free. True, they were all “economy” rooms—though the beds were just blankets pulled over wooden boards.

  They were hardly suites, but…

  “I just don’t have the money.”

  He let out a slow breath. The previous day’s adventure went firmly in the “loss” column of his finances.

  One antidote, one sword, and—because they hadn’t met the requested quota—no reward.

  He could survive today, because he at least had some money he had scrimped and saved in the past. But at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he would have to cart his meager possessions back home, or—if he was especially unlucky—maybe even become a serf or a prostitute.

  It had only been a few months earlier that Rookie Warrior had rushed away from his small farming village to become an adventurer. The reason was that Apprentice Priestess, an old friend of his, had set out to train and seemed likely to die if left to her own devices.

  Her perspective, on the other hand, was that she had accompanied him on “some kind of warrior training or something” so he didn’t get left for dead in the underbrush somewhere.

  He felt he would have to set her straight on this matter at some point.

  Well, had felt.

  In the months since they had come to the frontier town, they had done nothing but kill rats. And sometimes roaches.

  Is this really adventuring work…?

  It was enough to cause his dreams to wither on the vine, breaking down his certainty and resolve.

  “Stop it, stop it. That’s enough with that kind of thinking.”

  He gave himself a shake and plucked a stray piece of hay out of his clothes.

  Nearby, a middle-aged man, apparently also an adventurer, snoozed in the deep sleep of a drunk, snoring noisily.

  Across from them, the horses shot dirty looks at the humans who presumed to share their sleeping space.

  He didn’t see Apprentice Priestess anywhere.

  As disappointed as he had been, Rookie Warrior still had enough pride to allow her to sleep in one of those simple beds.

  “Hokay! Today’s another day!”

  Pretending to be in a good mood is close enough to actually being in a good mood, right? He gave a yell, grabbed his stuff, and raced out of the stable.

  Heading straight to the well, he drew up a bucket and splashed water all over his face. Using the cloth at his waist, he began scrubbing vigorously. There were still no signs of any new ability to grow a beard.

  “I’ll start to look more like a hero soon…I hope.”

  Or maybe facial hair would just give Apprentice Priestess a reason to point and laugh at him. Rookie Warrior groaned.

  In any case, there was a lot to do.

  With the minor task of making himself presentable out of the way, the boy went straight back to the stables. He grabbed a small spade from the rack of farm tools and headed around back.

  “Hmmm. Now, where did I put it…?”

  The exhausted state he had been in upon returning the night before left him with only a hazy recollection of what was where.

  He rustled about on the ground for a minute, searching for something, before, with an “Ah, it’s there,” he found the most recent traces of disturbed earth.

  He drove the shovel into the dirt, bracing a foot against it and digging for a while.

  After a bit of work, he pulled his equipment out of the ground—his armor and shield.

  He had had them made shortly after arriving in town, using his meager funds. They were cheap, but without equal. This was equipment he knew he could rely on.

  There was, of
course, a reason he had buried them.

  “…Erk. They stink…hrrm. Well, still for the best, I guess.”

  He brought his face close to them and sniffed.

  Tumbling into the pile of sewage hadn’t bothered him when they had been in a hurry to escape. The problem had been when they got back to the surface, and he had realized just how bad it smelled. Not only people in the street, but even his fellow adventurers wrinkled their noses and frowned at him.

  In the end, when they had returned to the Guild to make their report, the receptionist had smilingly said, “Please go clean up, then come back.”

  All the while Apprentice Priestess had stood there, bright red and shaking, staring at the ground…

  We messed up…, he had thought slowly.

  In the end, although he wasn’t much used to it, he washed his clothes, dried them, and rinsed himself off before changing.

  After some consideration about what to do with his leather armor and shield, he had decided the only thing was to bury them in the ground and hope it would take some of the stench off.

  The odor had improved a little, or so he hoped, so he wiped off the dirt with a cloth and equipped himself.

  He wouldn’t have had the courage to leave his precious equipment simply lying around even if he had been in a rented room, much less staying in the stables as he was.

  “Erk…”

  His stomach began rumbling, accompanied by a painful sensation.

  Rookie Warrior instinctively put a hand to his abdomen and looked around with a touch of panic. There was no one there. No one around to hear.

  Now that he thought about it, he had only had some water to drink the day before.

  The sky was blue, the morning sun shining brightly.

  Rookie Warrior heaved a sigh.

  “…Guess I better get something to eat.”

  §

  “…You’re late.”

  Apprentice Priestess was already at the tavern.

  She was in the corner, and the room was alive with adventurers even at this early hour.

  She was resting her chin on her hands and looking annoyed; Rookie Warrior sat at the table with a short apology.

  “Oh,” he added, “and good morning. Breakfast?”

  “I already ate,” Apprentice Priestess said brusquely, but then she muttered her response to his greeting. “Morning. Anyway. Just hurry up and eat. I want to head down again in the afternoon if we can.”