Goblin Slayer, Vol. 3

by Kumo Kagyu

  Then he shook his helmet and looked at her. His tone was blunt as ever. But…

  “…I was taken in.”

  Gosh, this man…

  Guild Girl gave a small sigh.

  He was serious, stubborn, strange, and socially awkward.

  She had understood all this about him as long as they had known each other.

  That was to say, for five years, ever since she had come to this town as a newly minted employee at eighteen.

  But Guild Girl knew him only as an adventurer.

  She did not yet know what lay beneath, or behind, that persona—his genuine self.

  But the same was true for him.

  She had always acted the proper receptionist with him.

  “Umm, so now…”

  A psychological tactic. That’s what he’d said. Okay, then. I’ll show him some tactics of my own.

  “…There’s somewhere I’d like to go. Is that okay?”

  §

  It was like the eye of a storm.

  As hectic as the town was, this building alone was cloaked in silence.

  The Adventurers Guild.

  On such a bright, festive day, there was no one here to file a quest, nor any adventurers to take them.

  Guild Girl unlocked the front door, ushering Goblin Slayer inside.

  “You can make yourself comfortable. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

  “I see.”

  Their voices echoed in a space normally so loud it was hard to hear.

  It was impressive how lonely the building seemed with no occupants.

  Goblin Slayer had been in any number of abandoned ruins, but he had never experienced this before. Of course, ruins rarely stayed quiet for very long after he showed up…

  “Hmm…”

  The silhouette of a bench stretched out in the dim interior, and his own shadow danced up the wall as he walked.

  Caught between the silence and the shadows, he felt like a ghost.

  Goblin Slayer did what he always did—he went over to check the board.

  Urgent quests had all been cleared away in anticipation of the festival. The pieces of paper left over were all noncritical adventures.

  Clearing rats out of the sewers. Collecting herbs. Getting rid of a Monshroom in the mountains.

  Gathering antique items for a curio collector. Patrolling the roads. Confirming the bloodline of the illegitimate child of a noble house.

  Exploring unexplored ruins. Escorting a merchant caravan…

  “Hrm.”

  Goblin Slayer skimmed everything again, just to be sure.

  But, no. No goblin-slaying quests.

  “…”

  “Uhhh, ah, there you are. I’m ready now.”

  He turned around at her call, still pursuing his train of thought.

  Guild Girl was waving at him from the reception area—she seemed to be holding a key of some kind.

  “Come here, over here! Okay, let’s go!”

  And then she ducked behind the reception counter, leaving Goblin Slayer where he was.

  With a final backward glance at the board, he readily followed her.

  He had been affiliated with this Guild for five years, but he had never been in the employees’ area.

  “Is this allowed?” he asked, to which Guild Girl lightly replied, “No,” as she peeked back at him.

  “That’s why this is just between us. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  She stuck out her tongue teasingly, and Goblin Slayer nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Really? I’ll be unhappy if you’re lying.”

  “Yes, really.”

  “I believe you, then.”

  She spun again, her braid bouncing in the air. Goblin Slayer trailed her deeper inside.

  He heard an unfamiliar sound—Guild Girl humming. He didn’t recognize the song.

  At last, still in high spirits, she stood before an old door, working the key noisily in the lock.

  Beyond it was a steep, weathered spiral staircase.

  “It’s up here. Let’s go!”

  “I see.”

  The staircase did not groan when Guild Girl stepped on it, but it did when Goblin Slayer began to climb. From the creaking of footsteps alone, one would have assumed just a single person was there.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Guild Girl said, putting a hand to her chest and straightening up. “If it had creaked under my weight, I wouldn’t have been able to stand back up from the shock!”

  “Is that so?”

  “Sure. Girls are pretty concerned about these things.”

  “Is that so?”

  Uh-huh, she nodded.

  She glanced back over her shoulder and teased, “Would it have been better if I had worn a skirt, Mr. Goblin Slayer?”

  He shook his head and said, “Keep your eyes ahead. You don’t want to trip and fall.”

  “Aww, but you’re here to catch me.”

  “Even so.”

  “All right…”

  She sounded quite cheerful, though he wasn’t sure what she was enjoying so much.

  Soon they arrived at the pinnacle of the spiral. There they found another old door.

  “Hang on a moment,” Guild Girl said, using a rusty key to unlock it. “This is where I wanted to bring you.”

  “…Me?”

  “Yes— Go ahead.”

  She opened the door.

  The moment she did so, a draft rushed out, and his vision was filled with gold.

  Mountains of treasure, jewels, enough to bewilder the senses—no.

  It was the world itself, reflecting the deepening light of the sun.

  Mountains, rivers, hills full of daisies, forests and farms. The town, the temple, the plaza. Everything.

  This was the Guild’s watchtower, and from it one could look out over everything at once in any direction.

  However high, however far, it was visible from here.

  Crowds bustling, musicians playing. Laughter. A song. Everything reached the tower.

  If the Guild Hall was the eye of the storm, this was a place for viewing the storm itself.

  Lively and joyous, a day beautiful enough to celebrate.

  And Goblin Slayer stood at its very heart.

  “…How is it? Surprised?”

  Guild Girl stood at the railing, running her hands along it. She peeked at his helmet, but couldn’t see anything.

  But—she believed—there was no one easier to understand than he.

  It didn’t require much thought to understand his goal as he went around town.

  “You were patrolling, weren’t you?”

  Through the streets, checking the sewers, watching the rivers for any sign of goblins at all.

  That was who this person was.

  So surely, if he saw everything from the guard tower, he might have…

  “…Relaxed a little?”

  “No…” Goblin Slayer slowly shook his head at Guild Girl’s question. “I wonder, though.”

  He let out a breath softly.

  “Is that right?” she murmured, and leaned on the railing.

  Her braid danced in the wind. She didn’t look at him.

  “Even though you’ve worked so hard to slay all those goblins?”

  “All the more reason.”

  The light grew dim. The sun was going down, sinking into the horizon. Even the most beautiful days had to end.

  “…”

  “…”

  In its place, twin moons rose alongside a thin purple mist. The sky was full of stars—cold, sharp pinpoints of light.

  The town was daubed in black, so quiet it seemed everyone was holding their breath.

  The wind nipped at the two of them in the guard tower with a mournful sound.

  Autumn, after all, was the prelude to winter.

  They could already see their breath fogging.

  And then suddenly, she whispered.

  “Look, it’s starting!”

  The gold van
ished, and the pair sank into shadows.

  Then, a light.

  §

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Five.

  Finally, too many to count.

  The little lanterns glittered like stars reflected in a river. Through the darkened town they shone, blinking, wavering, shining.

  Finally, the warm red lights began floating into the sky like fireflies.

  Like snow falling in reverse, they drifted, danced up to the heavens.

  “Sky lanterns.”

  “Yes. I thought they would be beautiful from here.” Guild Girl’s response to Goblin Slayer’s two words sounded rather self-satisfied. “Since I was finally going to be able to do this, I wanted to invite you along.”

  “…I see.”

  Goblin Slayer gazed at the town and exhaled quietly.

  The golden spray of twilight was long gone, and in the orange glow of the candles the town was incomparably beautiful.

  It was filled with the creations of humans.

  Houses and buildings made of stone, the clothing of the people in the streets, their laughter rising up.

  They lit the candles in their lanterns, the paper inflating before carrying the specks of light into the sky.

  Goblin Slayer’s gaze followed their ascent from the town below up into the night air.

  He knew warm air rose, and that was why the lanterns flew. That was all. No magic and no miracles involved. Eventually, the flame would go out and the lanterns would drift back to earth.

  “Mr. Goblin Slayer, do you—?”

  Guild Girl opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment—

  Riiing.

  A bell sounded, rippling through the silence of the night.

  If the lanterns were stars in a stream, this was the burble of the water.

  Riiing, riiing, riiing, riiing.

  The sound repeated in a set rhythm, a sacred ritual to purify the area.

  Guild Girl searched for the source. It came from the plaza, where a crowd of lanterns was rising into the air.

  People were packed into the square, sitting around a round stage.

  She spotted a familiar spear and pointy hat in the throng and giggled.

  Oh, is it that time already?

  Beautiful days, festival days, celebration days. These days also belonged to the gods.

  They were days of thanksgiving for the harvest and a fruitful autumn, as well as supplication for safe passage through the winter.

  Petitions they made, naturally, to the all-compassionate Earth Mother.

  Soon, someone appeared in the square amid the bonfires to embody those hopes.

  A young woman dressed all in white emerged gracefully—a shrine maiden. No…

  “O gods who gather at the table of the stars…”

  It was Priestess.

  She was dressed very differently. Her outfit resembled some form of battle attire, yet showed a remarkable amount of skin for that.

  Her shoulders and cleavage, her midriff and back, her thighs, all showed pure and pale skin.

  “…by the pips of the dice of fate and chance…”

  Her blush suggested she was embarrassed to be seen this way, but nonetheless she twirled her flail modeled after a sacred relic.

  The Earth Mother was the goddess of abundance, the ruler of love, and even sometimes a deity of war.

  And these were the vestments of her priestess.

  So in truth, there was nothing to be ashamed about.

  “O Earth Mother, we beseech you…”

  Priestess waved the great flail with both hands, the flames reflecting in the beads of sweat on her face.

  Every time the relic, originally a tool of the harvest, cut through the air, it left white trails and the ringing of a bell.

  A dance of the gods, for the gods, and to the gods. A hallowed display.

  “As you will, be it my will…”

  Goblin Slayer remembered her muttering, I’ve been practicing.

  She’d talked about her new equipment. And she had been in such a hurry to go to the workshop.

  She must have been training so she could wield that flail and gone to the shop to prepare that outfit.

  He finally understood his elf companion’s impish smile.

  “I offer this body, tirelessly, unhesitatingly…”

  Her prayer rang out through the square, past the houses, to the guard tower.

  He was sure the gods could hear her where they reposed in heaven.

  The hope was that their dice might roll even a bit more favorably.

  Oh snake eyes snake eyes!

  Show me a duodecuple tomorrow!

  Where had he heard those words?

  “We offer you this prayer…”

  She wasn’t possessed, exactly—but she brought the pantheon closer.

  Of course, if she had truly used the Call God miracle, surely her mortal soul could not have endured.

  But even in imitation of the miracle, it took only a gesture, a breath, a sound, to make the grounds seem holy.

  Night did not belong to people. It belonged to monsters and chaos. And goblins.

  “O great, O eternal, O vast, O deep love…”

  She took a great dancing step and her garments swirled, revealing her hips.

  Her heightened breath fogged, and droplets of sweat flew off her.

  Her eyes teared; her lips trembled. Her small chest heaved with every breath.

  Yet she exuded no eroticism, only sanctity.

  “And let it be thus upon your board…”

  “…I have never relaxed,” Goblin Slayer whispered as he followed her form with his eyes.

  “Wha…?”

  The words came out of the blue. Guild Girl didn’t know whether she was more surprised or confused.

  It took her a moment to realize he was answering her earlier question.

  “No matter how much I do, no matter how many I kill. All I gain is a chance to win.” No matter how much his companions and friends supported him, encouraged him, and fought alongside him. “And a chance for victory is not victory.”

  There was no way it could be.

  The specter of defeat was ever present. He could never flee from the shadow that had created him.

  Certainly not when that shadow had a concrete form and could strike at him.

  “That’s why I did not make a lantern.”

  To prepare. To be ready against the goblins. To fight.

  To hedge against that last .01 percent when he was 99.99 percent sure he could win.

  He was determined that for all this, he could not spare his attention for anything else.

  He knew.

  He knew that what carried the flying lanterns to the sky was just a natural phenomenon. That when the candles burned out, they would fall to the earth as nothing more than trash.

  Goblin Slayer knew this.

  But…

  “The sky lanterns guide the souls of the dead,” he whispered with just a hint of regret. “I wonder if they were able to return safely.”

  Who could he have been talking about? Or what? How did he feel right then?

  Guild Girl couldn’t tell. She didn’t know.

  But even so she said, “I’m sure they did,” and smiled.

  At the same moment:

  “May no ill upset the scales of order and chaos in heaven. May all be well.”

  Priestess tossed her hair as she lifted her eyes to the sky, offering a prayer from earth to heaven.

  She chanted with all her might, her pale throat glistening with effort. Someone swallowed audibly at her beauty.

  Then she intoned a supplication supposedly on behalf of many believers—those who had words.

  “Bless the protector of the night, bring him happiness.”

  But she spoke only to one.

  “I pray to the distant sky, I offer my petition…”

  She let out a breath. It rippled through the sil
ence.

  “…Look.” Guild Girl was smiling at Goblin Slayer with just a touch of surprise. “The gods are appreciating…all your hard work.”

  And indeed they were.

  If he had not rescued Priestess in that cave, this scene would never have been. Everyone here in the town, celebrating the festival. All because he helped that girl and held off the goblin horde with her and their companions.

  Was it fate or chance? That depended on the roll of the gods’ dice.

  Though perhaps those on the board could not imagine it…

  Guild Girl didn’t care which it was. Because whatever the cause, it had led her to him.

  She didn’t know what had brought him to become an adventurer—to become Goblin Slayer.

  But she knew the five years that had led up to this point, everything he had been through in that time. He was here to protect villages, people, cities—anyone.

  Just look around him.

  She couldn’t believe—it was ridiculous she hadn’t noticed.

  Goblin Slayer was not bitter. He was not sad.

  She—she was the one who could barely stand it.

  Guild Girl trembled with humiliation at her own selfishness.

  That night, at that moment, he’d had Priestess, and High Elf Archer, and Cow Girl, too.

  And even though she’d known that, she had tried to get the jump on all of them, and she hated her shameful behavior.

  She hated how she had avoided them until the festival, not knowing what she would say to them.

  But—but.

  She was waiting. She was here.

  She was supporting him, cheering him on.

  She wanted him to see.

  To notice.

  To understand.

  Her. Other things. Everyone who wasn’t a goblin. Anyone at all.

  She had nothing resembling the courage she needed to put any of this into words.

  But now that she had managed to spend half a day with him, she wondered if anything had come of it.

  Did he see me?

  Did he see anyone?

  Did he think about anything besides goblins?

  “I’m sure…sure they were able to come home safely.”

  There was so much light, after all. It must be true. They couldn’t have lost their way.

  That faith had inspired Guild Girl’s words. As ever, she hid her innermost thoughts behind her smile.