Goblin Slayer, Vol. 4

by Kumo Kagyu

  If I just swing at it, I’ll never hit it.

  It was so fast. If he couldn’t stop it from moving, the battle would be hopeless. He just didn’t have the skill.

  “H-hey! Do you think you could hit it with Holy Smite?!”

  “I don’t know…! The gods are the ones who aim the spell, not me!”

  “What if it were coming straight at you?!”

  “In that case, maybe…!”

  “Okay!”

  Now he would have to think fast. If he was going to do it, he couldn’t hesitate.

  Rookie Warrior grabbed the lantern from Apprentice Priestess’s waist.

  “Yikes! H-hey, what are you—?!”

  “You can scold me if we survive!”

  Shouting even louder than Apprentice Priestess, Rookie Warrior looked back.

  The humongous insect was right there, slime dribbling from its chomping jaws.

  Rookie Warrior took a deep breath.

  “Try this on for size!”

  And then he threw the lantern right in front of the insect.

  The impact with the floor shattered the lantern’s cheap casing, and fire leaped up from the flame within.

  The massive roach gave a screech, spread its wings, and rose into the air. The sight alone was enough to make them lose their will to fight it.

  Rookie Warrior felt something warm and wet in his pants. He set his jaw to stop his chattering teeth.

  “Now—do it!”

  “—Ee—ehh—ahhh—!”

  In response to Rookie Warrior’s shout, Apprentice Priestess, who had been trembling dumbly, raised the sword-and-scales.

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

  A crackling bolt of lightning drove straight into the filthy bug.

  There was a crack of thunder, and a brilliant, bluish-white light banished the dim darkness of the sewers. The miracle lasted only for an instant.

  Smoke that reeked of ozone and burned chitin erupted from the monster, turning their stomachs.

  The huge roach fell to the ground, its abdomen hideously exposed, struggling to rise again with its six limbs.

  “H-hii—yaaaaaahhh!”

  Rookie Warrior lifted his club and jumped at it. He scrambled onto the black abdomen, ignoring the thorny legs clawing at him, and shoved his shield against its jaws. Dark pincers dug into the oiled leather, but his focus was complete. With an animal scream, he raised the club and brought it down, striking, breaking, again and again.

  He paid no heed to the slime flying from the jaws, nor to the blood seeping from his scratches. If he did, he would be killed.

  The sweaty grip slipped from his hand. The string he had tied around it allowed him to regain his hold. And he struck again.

  Strike and strike and strike and strike and strike and strike. Whatever happens, just strike. As many blows as possible. Beat it until it dies.

  “Hoo…ahh…huff…ahh…”

  Finally, he had reached his limit. He didn’t have enough oxygen.

  He tried to clear his head, his vision reddened by the heat of his body, but the effort made him dizzy. Then Apprentice Priestess was there, supporting him just as he thought he would fall over.

  “Are—are you okay…?!”

  “I…I think so.”

  The boy registered that he was covered from head to toe in the roach’s juices. His right hand, gripping his club, was especially bad.

  Where the insect’s head should have been, there was only a spreading pool of fluids.

  The six legs, scrabbling with the last vestiges of life, were still to be feared.

  “Is it…still alive…?” Apprentice Priestess asked.

  “K-keep back. It’s…dangerous.”

  Rookie Warrior swallowed heavily, then drew his work dagger from his belt. He used it to saw through each leg at the lowest joint until it finally broke off. He had to do this, or they wouldn’t be safe. Six times he did it, until his fingers were stiff and terribly painful. But it still wasn’t over.

  “Um…the abdomen, right?”

  He held the dagger in a two-handed reverse grip, raised it, and then brought it down. There was a fsssh and a geyser of fluid from the body.

  The blade hit something hard, and then Rookie Warrior steeled himself and reached into the roach’s stomach. He pulled something out.

  “Found it…”

  He had no idea what the creature had been thinking when it ate this. But the sword he pulled out was unmistakably the one he had so eagerly bought, his first weapon.

  “…Starting today, maybe I’ll call this sword Chestburster, and this club Roach Slayer. What do you think?”

  “I think you should stop talking stupid and drink this antidote, and then we should go home.”

  The boy cut a pathetic figure, every inch of him covered in slime. Some of the stuff had landed on the girl’s waist, which had been bared when the lantern was torn away, and was steaming there.

  The two of them pretended not to notice either of these things as they exchanged a dry smile at their great victory.

  §

  “Sigh…”

  The sun was setting on the frontier town.

  The two of them had washed head to toe in the river—studiously avoiding any glimpses of each other in only their underpants—and then gone to the Guild to make their report.

  They had checked their equipment, restocked the supplies they had used, tended to their scratches, and finally paid for a simple place to sleep.

  In the end, all that was left were several silver coins that Rookie Warrior now held in his hand.

  This would be their savings. But…how much were we even able to save?

  Squatting by the door to the Adventurers Guild, Rookie Warrior felt like sighing, too.

  “Hey, what are you staring into space for, anyway?”

  “Hmm…”

  Apprentice Priestess, pressing a towel to her wet hair, was just next to him.

  Rookie Warrior made a non-answer, his focus on the people coming and going through the door.

  Adventurers of every stripe were heading out to town with their special items or coming into the Guild. Each and every one of them was loaded with equipment, fatigue mingling with a sense of achievement on their faces.

  The boy and girl did not yet have enough experience to realize this meant no adventurers had died that day.

  “I was just…thinking we’ve got a long way to go.”

  “Well, obviously,” Apprentice Priestess said with a snort, sitting down next to Rookie Warrior. “A little progress each day! The trouble starts when you want more than that.”

  “W-well, sure, but…”

  “Do your best, sacrifice, make your money, and live your life. Can’t complain about that, can you?”

  “W-well, sure, but…” The silver coins in his hand shimmered in the evening light. The bright glints from the metal hurt his eyes. “…We’ve got a long way to go.”

  “…That’s true.”

  But I—even I—was able to deal with some giant rats and roaches today.

  It wouldn’t make for much of a legend, but there was no denying he had put his life on the line.

  “All right! Let’s get some decent food!” he said, and thrust the coins at Apprentice Priestess.

  “…Yeah. I guess we can indulge a bit today.”

  Someday—someday—someday.

  They wanted to be brave. They wanted to be heroes.

  They wanted to be adventurers who might defeat a dragon.

  The coins rattled in the girl’s palm as she stood.

  “Come on, how late are you gonna sleep? Wake up!”

  The boy heard the familiar voice of his older sister in the morning air.

  He moved lazily with many an oof and aaah and other inarticulate sounds, until a bright light pierced his eyes.

  Dawn—it was morning.

  “It’s morning?!”

  The boy threw himself out of his straw bed and g
ave a great stretch.

  He sucked in a breath of air that was cold and comfortable. A fragrant aroma of some sort wafted by.

  Bread!

  It was breakfast.

  “If you don’t hurry and get up, there won’t be any breakfast left!”

  “I know!” he shouted back to his sister, then quickly changed into his clothes.

  If it was already morning, then he couldn’t waste another minute, not another second. Plus, he was hungry.

  When I close my eyes, morning comes right away—so why do I get so hungry?

  Maybe his sister would know. He wanted to ask, but right now breakfast was more important.

  “Morning, Sis!”

  “I think you mean good morning,” she said in annoyance as he came flying into the kitchen (and dining room, and living room—it was a small house). “Sheesh. That’s why we have to have her look after you.”

  “Hrk… She’s got nothing to do with this.” When his sister brought up his longtime friend who lived in the house next door, the boy adopted the same displeased expression as her.

  The neighbor was younger than him, but she could do pretty much anything, so everyone treated him like he was younger and made her responsible for him. He would complain to his sister about it, but she would only smile. You would think an older sister might take her little brother’s feelings into account a bit more.

  “Never mind that, just you eat.”

  “…Yes, Sis.”

  His objection was ruthlessly dismissed, and she gestured for him to sit at the table with a wave of a large spoon.

  The dishes on the table included bread, still steaming warm, and a soup made of milk. There were fried eggs on the days when the chickens had laid, but it didn’t happen that often. His favorite thing was stew, which they could only make when they had killed one of the chickens.

  His stomach ached with the delicious smells.

  He took up a spoon, determined not to let any of it go cold.

  “Hey, say your prayers!” his sister, who seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, said as she checked the soup.

  The boy regretfully put the spoon back on the table and clasped his hands.

  “O One who is bigger than the rivers and wider than the seas, thank you for granting us the wisdom to obtain this food.”

  “Right, good!”

  It was typical in these pioneer villages to believe in the Earth Mother, and the boy took pride in the fact that his family was different. His sister had learned to read, write, and do math at the temple of the God of Knowledge and was even starting to teach there herself. It was what had allowed them to survive even after their parents died—and for that, they had to be thankful to the deity.

  But… the boy thought. He sipped some soup, then tore off a piece of bread and soaked it in the soup before eating it. Me, I want to be an adventurer.

  It was certainly not something he could tell his sister.

  §

  “Just be sure to stay out of the Eastern Woods!”

  “I know!”

  “Come back at noon and go to the temple!”

  “I know, I know!”

  With his sister harping at him from behind, the boy set off down a path he’d known since birth.

  Well, maybe not since birth, exactly…

  On his back rattled the wooden sword his sister had recently given him for his birthday. One of his favorite games these days was swinging it around and pretending he was an adventurer. Of course, in his mind, it wasn’t pretend.

  My party’s one short today.

  The girl next door was going into town that day. Not fair. Not fair at all.

  “Even I haven’t been to see town yet.” He drew his sword and took a few thoughtless stabs at the underbrush.

  “You there, boy! Don’t you be swingin’ that thing where there are people around, it’s dangerous!”

  Of course, a middle-aged farmer standing kitty-corner spotted him and called out. He must have been watering his fields. There was a sound as he stretched out his stooped hips.

  “…Yes, sir.” The boy understood that what he did reflected on his sister, and he obediently sheathed the sword. “I’m sorry.”

  “Y’be careful, now.” Pounding gently on his lower back, the farmer began ambling away from his field, smiling at being on a short break. He came up beside the boy and let out a long breath, taking a hand towel from his waist and wiping his own face. He was covered in earth and dust and mud and sweat, and the towel was quickly stained brown.

  “Where’s that gal you’re always with?”

  “Her? She’s in town today,” the boy said with a hint of annoyance, but the farmer just nodded.

  “That so? I see… She’s a sweet thing. Maybe she’ll get some pretty clothes in town. Savor the anticipation, boy.”

  “I don’t think she looks good in fancy stuff.” He puffed out his cheeks. The farmer patted him with a rough, dirty hand. At the sight of the boy, the farmer laughed again.

  “Well, wait till y’see her. Keep it to yourself for now.”

  “Hrm…”

  “Say, boy. You go t’ the temple at noon, don’t you?”

  “Uh-huh. Sis says I have to study.”

  “She’s right enough about that.” The farmer nodded, then frowned and gently pounded his lower back with a fist. “Actually, my hips are botherin’ me again. Tell the monks I could use some medicine.”

  “Sure. Medicine for your hips, got it.”

  The boy nodded, and the farmer’s weathered face blossomed into a wrinkly smile. “Good boy,” he said. “Oh, and boy. You’ve been told to stay clear of the Eastern Woods, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I have,” the boy said, cocking his head. Now that he thought about it… “But why shouldn’t I go there?”

  “What, ain’t your sister told you?”

  “No. I never asked.”

  “Them Eastern Woods—” The farmer folded his arms gravely, letting out a deep sigh. “—There’s goblins there.”

  §

  “An adventurer, huh? Wonder if they’d really help us.”

  Down the crude path out of the pioneer village stood a dense, dark forest.

  At the entrance trembled one of the young men of the village—though he was over thirty years old.

  The one who had spoken held a rusted old spear, but he looked uneasy and not very reliable. It had, after all, been more than ten years since he had gone off to war carrying that weapon. And even then, the battle had ended while he was still in the rear, and the whole thing had come to nothing.

  Now anyone in the village with even a modicum of battle experience had been called on to face the goblins, but they were not very well prepared.

  “The Guild can make their promises, but I sure wouldn’t want to run into any bandits…”

  “Me, I’m ’fraid of black magic…”

  The whispering voices belonged to two anxious-looking men in their twenties.

  They held hand axes made for cutting firewood, restlessly adjusting and readjusting their grip.

  “I’ve heard you can’t let down your guard for the lady ones, either, or they’ll suck the soul right out of you!”

  “Yeah, I heard that, too,” a former soldier said as quietly as he could. “There was a young one, over in the silk-makers’ village across the mountain range?”

  “Oh, yeah, there was.”

  “Well, she said she didn’t want a long life of eating hard bread. She was going to live a rich, short life as an adventurer.”

  “Left home, huh?”

  “Sure did. But you know what, it was really because she was in L-O-V-E with an elf girl, a sorceress who’d come to the village.”

  “Aww, yikes…”

  “’Course, sometimes it’s the other way around. Girls get taken in or raped by adventurers who come to their village all the time, right?”

  “That’s enough drivel out of you. Didn’t my grandpa say?” The group’s leader, a man of twentysomething
years who looked likely to be the next chief of the village, spoke with a severe expression. “The only villages that ever survived a goblin attack were the ones that hired adventurers.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Or should we send the little devils your daughter as an offering?”

  “Hey, now…”

  “You must’ve at least heard the story of the traveling merchant whose daughter was dragged off.”

  The former soldier nodded in agreement as the timid man whimpered that this was not good, that it did not bear thinking of.

  “What I know is my gramps isn’t wrong. He knows a whole lot more about fighting than me.”

  “Yeah, but—but they’re goblins. We don’t have to hire any adventurers, right? If we just leave ’em alone, won’t that…?”

  “When one or two come along, you can chase ’em off. Goblins aren’t such a big deal.” Their leader shook his head, still looking stern. “But gramps said when they start setting up a nest—they’ll come for our wives and daughters.”

  “Yeah…”

  “But, look. Ain’t much hope we can kill all those goblins ourselves, is there?” As the former soldier spoke, the timid man gave a squeak as if he were facing death at that very moment.

  “Su-su-su-su-sure, we can’t,” he said. “Maybe I could chase off a goblin what came to the village, but…”

  “Well, there you have it,” the former soldier said. “This is how adventurers put food on their tables—let them handle it.”

  “Tch,” the leader muttered, “what a sniveling, yellow-bellied…”

  “Now, now, you’ve got to think of his feelings, too,” the former soldier said evenly, shielding the timid man from the upbraiding. “We know you’re betrothed to the chief’s daughter, and you’re set for the future, but not everyone has that going for them.”

  In the face of this argument, everyone fell silent, including the leader.

  The young people of the village were all enthralled by adventurers. They wanted to love women, eat delicious food, live the high life. They didn’t want to spend their lives plowing the country dirt. They would sooner fight a dragon. The readiness to face death came easily to their lips, if not to their hearts.

  And the young women were much the same. All they could look forward to was becoming one of the empty-headed fools who had nothing but house and farm work to do or serving the god in the temple to pray until the moment of their death. If they were unlucky, they might be attacked and raped by bandits or the like or grow so destitute that selling themselves became their only recourse…