Goblin Slayer, Vol. 3

by Kumo Kagyu

  That accursed artifact was its arm—an object with the power to summon the giant. And Dark Elf was its owner.

  “So—” Dwarf Shaman slapped his cheeks, grimacing. “—he’s a summoner?!”

  If he could truly summon a creature from the age of the gods, that meant he was as strong as a Bronze or Silver adventurer, or even…

  His summoning methods were unorthodox, indeed, inhuman, but there was no denying the confidence he exuded. It was possible that for Dark Elf, he himself—let alone his goblins—was not the most important thing.

  Behold the dark clouds that roiled overhead. Behold the storm that made to attack the town. The thunder. The wind. The rain.

  What if all of these were but the harbingers of Hecatoncheir’s return to earth?

  “If he deflects arrows, are we to assume that all ranged weapons shall prove ineffective?”

  “I don’t know exactly, myself…”

  Lizard Priest had just returned from decapitating the last goblin covered in mud.

  High Elf Archer’s answer was accompanied by an anxious flick of her ears. Still reeling from disbelief, she readied another arrow.

  “…But when I was small, my grandpa told me that no matter how many arrows were loosed at that giant, it stopped them all.”

  If a human grandfather had told such a story, it might well have been dismissed as a tall tale. But this was an old elven veteran who had been alive during the battles of the mythical age.

  And he had said arrows were useless.

  “Gods,” Dwarf Shaman said as he clicked his tongue. “Of all the times for an elf to find out what it means to fail.” He didn’t seem open to optimism.

  He held up a finger, judging the distance to the mutated Dark Elf. The enemy was just within his range.

  But Stone Blast carried too much risk of hitting Goblin Slayer. And even if it struck true, how much damage would it actually do to those monstrous arms…?

  “Oho?”

  Dark Elf’s eyes had gone wide.

  Goblin Slayer had tossed aside his club and drawn his sword. The strange-length sword was covered in a film of dirt, perhaps from fighting in the mud.

  But Goblin Slayer took a deep stance and rotated his wrist once.

  “Do you imagine a change of weapons will allow you to prevail against me?”

  “No.” Goblin Slayer steadied his breathing, pointed the tip of his sword at the enemy, and spoke in a low voice. “I imagine it’ll let me kill you.”

  “Spare me your idiocy!”

  As he bellowed, Dark Elf’s arms stretched unnaturally, reaching out toward Goblin Slayer.

  The human warrior dove forward, taking advantage of the slightest of gaps.

  In his right hand, Dark Elf held that nimble sword. It was a good weapon, but its owner’s reflexes made it truly dangerous.

  “A suicidal charge? You’ll never reach me.”

  Goblin Slayer just managed to deflect the whistling flash of silver with his shield.

  The piece of round leather had already sustained several cuts and piercings and was reaching a point when it would no longer be of much use.

  But Goblin Slayer paid this no mind, closing the distance with his sword at the ready.

  Dark Elf jumped backward and prepared to thrust again. Goblin Slayer followed, reaching out with the tip of his blade.

  The enemy’s chest armor cracked ever so slightly with a ringing echo. But that was all.

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! It seems your trusty arm isn’t strong enough!”

  Goblin Slayer simply didn’t have the power to strike the elf himself.

  The enemy landed on the ground, splattering mud everywhere, and declared in triumph:

  “I have taken your measure! You are no better than Ruby, the fifth rank. Or even Emerald, the sixth!”

  “No,” Goblin Slayer said, shaking his head. “Try Obsidian.”

  Goblin Slayer didn’t have it in him. But…

  “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness!”

  They heard a clear voice, raised in supplication to the gods.

  On this night of all nights, for a prayer from one she had so recently blessed with her love, how could the Earth Mother fail to grant a miracle?

  Holy Light exploded from Priestess’s upheld flail.

  Uttering a soundless scream, Dark Elf retreated when a light as bright as the sun pierced the storm.

  His eyes, accustomed to the night and the darkened rain, burned as if exposed to daylight.

  Priestess no longer needed words to communicate with Goblin Slayer.

  The party would handle the goblins; Goblin Slayer would handle their leader. And…

  You’re crucial. I’m counting on you.

  He had entrusted this role to her.

  Of course she would follow the path he carved through the goblin army.

  And now, with the light at his back, Goblin Slayer surged into the darkness.

  Priestess stood behind him, covered in rain and mud and sweat, yet immaculate in her resolve, holding the light high.

  Her beauty did not come from the light of the gods that bathed her, nor from the vestments she wore.

  It came from the way she could carry her prayer to the very place of the gods in heaven on behalf of another.

  Without a moment’s doubt or hesitation. Though trembling and afraid, still she raised her flail.

  “Goblin Slayer, sir!”

  His sword worked, though he did not shout or bellow.

  He raised the weapon, advanced, took aim, let it fall, and cut his foe.

  It was a completely normal, totally unremarkable attack.

  “Hrr—gah!”

  But an attack it was.

  Dark Elf’s chest armor shattered, gore spraying. It wasn’t much. But the blow had struck home, and that was enough.

  “Wh-why, y-youuuu—!”

  He dropped his sword and pressed his hand to his chest, stumbling back.

  He had feared no arrow, nor indeed any sword or magic spell. That blow had wounded his pride as a dark elf far more deeply than his body.

  How could this ragtag party of busybodies have brought me so low?!

  “I shall make you wish I had merely used the giant’s power to obliterate this town!” Murder blazed in his eyes. As much as forest elves seek harmony, dark elves cherish pride and torment. “I will make you food for my goblins. And your elf and your little girl—I shall cut off their hands and feet, then leave them deep in the nest until they die…!”

  Dark Elf assumed it was his own burgeoning fury that made it difficult to get the words out.

  He fell to one knee in a spatter of mud.

  “Erg… Gah… Hrrr…?”

  His face, the color of darkness, contorted with pain. The five arms on his back clawed at the mud, and he struggled to stand.

  Was it the summoning that had sapped his strength so suddenly? Impossible. If anything, it had brought him more strength.

  The injury, then—the wound?

  —No.

  “It’s poisoned.”

  Goblin Slayer offered only those two words and tossed out an old rag from the pouch on his hip.

  It held the darts that had been used against him and Guild Girl in the attack at the Guild Hall.

  Goblin Slayer didn’t know exactly what kind of poison was on them, but…

  “Wh-why, you—! You—! Youuu—!”

  …to use it on his enemy, it was enough to know that it was poison.

  Blood seeped out from between Dark Elf’s fingers and ran to the ground.

  Rage flared in his eyes, and the rain streaked across his contorting lips.

  He used the arms on his back, instead of the ones that trembled on his torso, to prop himself up.

  Lightning flashed behind Dark Elf, highlighting his unsteady form, like a withering tree.

  He panted, fighting against the poison coursing through him. He looked like one about to die, and yet more terr
ible than before.

  “Omnis…!”

  He bellowed out the words of true power, a last-ditch death spell if there ever was one.

  “No…!” Priestess tried desperately to hold her flail up in quaking hands, her face pale and bloodless.

  But the strain of connecting her soul to the very gods time and again had made her fingers unsteady.

  “If he hits us, it’s all over, but—his guard’s down!”

  High Elf Archer pulled three arrows from her quiver, launching them at him all at once, quicker than magic.

  But with a gust of wind, the cloudlike hand swatted away the arrows as they zipped through the storm.

  “Hecatoncheir’s great power…!”

  High Elf Archer ground her teeth and angrily pulled out another arrow. She refused to believe it was useless.

  “Stone Blast is too imprecise! It’s up to you to save the day, Long-Ears!”

  “What do you think I’m trying to do?!”

  The archer loosed shot after shot, but the arm swept each one from the sky.

  “My own spells and those of our lady the priestess are exhausted. Meaning…”

  “Nodos…!”

  Charge in for a melee attack? No, at this distance neither they nor Goblin Slayer would be in time. Lizard Priest joined High Elf Archer in grinding his teeth.

  Dark Elf’s incantation continued clear and loud. Their time was nearly up.

  So—the party’s eyes turned to one man.

  “Goblin Slayer…sir…”

  “Arrow deflection?”

  Covered in mud and poison and blood, that steel helmet tilted ever so slightly.

  “He is able to deflect incoming arrows…is that right?”

  Despite the storm raging around them, his gentle murmur could not fail to reach the high elf’s ears.

  “Deflect them, defend against them—you know!” She raised her voice to be heard over the wind. “What…? What did my grandpa call it…?” She chewed on her finely formed thumb, flicking her ears in annoyance. “I think he said… ‘No metal pierceth my skin, the shaft of every arrow is caught by my hand.’”

  “I see.” No metal pierceth the skin. The shaft of every arrow caught. He muttered to himself. “Arrow deflection…”

  All this he said without emotion, then finally nodded to acknowledge Priestess’s call and took a step forward.

  Before his eyes, the white light was already beginning to shine. The air hummed with building magical power.

  As he took a second step, he put his longsword back in its sheath and turned his right shoulder lightly around.

  “Libe…”

  “I see.”

  Then the third step. At that instant, Dark Elf’s left arm went flying.

  Nobody—including Dark Elf himself—realized it had happened until blood began gushing from the stump.

  The storm picked up the spurting blood and scattered it like rain. The noise of the arm landing in the bushes could be heard.

  The strange, bent throwing knife had cut through the air, and then through Dark Elf’s flesh and bone.

  The windmill-shaped blade. Dark Elf had no way of knowing it was a Southern-style throwing knife.

  “—?! Gaaahhh!!”

  The throwing star trailed through the mist as the chant morphed into a hideous scream.

  Dark Elf clutched at his mangled limb. Behind him, the arm waved like a blade of grass in the storm.

  “This is considered a dagger.”

  There was nothing at all remarkable about Goblin Slayer’s throw.

  It was simply fast and precise.

  Two arms danced in the night—that of Dark Elf, and the one his hand had been holding.

  They landed pathetically in the muck, and Goblin Slayer stepped on them.

  From beneath his boot, there was a sound reminiscent of rocks cracking.

  He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but it seemed the arm now deflected arrows no more than a goblin’s arm did.

  “N-no! My—my arm! Heca—toncheir’s—arm—!”

  An instant later an unerring arrow pierced Dark Elf’s throat where he writhed on the ground.

  There was a distant exhalation from High Elf Archer as she let the shot go. This was all she could do without some sort of cheat.

  “My…sacrifices…not enough…sacrifices… And my goblins…no…use…at all…”

  Dark Elf hacked up a stream of blood, then focused his scorching gaze on the encroaching enemies.

  But the fire in his eyes was low, indistinct. His vision was blurry. He blinked quickly.

  All he could see was an adventurer in the strangest equipment.

  Grimy leather armor, a cheap-looking steel helmet, a sword of strange length, and a small round shield strapped to his arm. He was splattered with rain and mud, blood and earth. Even a novice adventurer would be in better shape.

  And yet…

  “Y-you… It was you…” Bile rose with the blood in Dark Elf’s mouth. “In the water town… The hero who…thwarted…our ambitions…!”

  He should have seen it sooner.

  Their revenge on that accursed Sword Maiden, the Demon Lord’s revival, and the ritual to summon a storm of chaos.

  It was adventurers who had put an end to it all.

  This man. This man was one of them, he was sure. Dark Elf glared at that steel helmet with thoughts as bloody as his lips.

  “……No.”

  He answered dispassionately.

  So many people supported him.

  Helped him.

  Guided him. It was thanks to all of them that he was here.

  When he went back to town, there would be those whom—regardless of how they might feel about him—he called friend.

  If he turned around, he would see those who fought with him as companions.

  If he went home, there was someone waiting for him there.

  Not minions. Not followers.

  Nothing given to him by the gods, by fate, or by chance.

  But by choices he had made, paths and paragraphs he chose of his own volition.

  All the more reason he could call himself what he pleased.

  Ah, but…

  All the more reason.

  “I’m…”

  Without a flicker of hesitation, he declared himself.

  “…Goblin Slayer.”

  That was some adventure! Plenty of twists, a few turns…

  Too bad there were still some bad guys leftover after we broke up the plans of that Evil Sect or whatever it was.

  And whoever that giant was they were trying to summon, that seemed pretty badass.

  The archbishop and I were finally able to meet up via the ritual at the harvest festival—even if it was only in spirit form.

  That girl’s prayer reached all the way to the gods. Awesome, huh? Way over my head.

  That guy started spinning right in front of our eyes until he got as big as a mountain!

  The clouds he stirred up around him stretched out and turned into these nasty-looking arms.

  He was like a centipede in human form—it kinda gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  I mean, right now I don’t have a body, just my spirit. Even though I somehow have all my usual equipment and weapons.

  “It can be rather unsettling to float along, and then find yourself facing your enemy in spirit form.”

  Sheesh. For someone who’s trained enough to be a master sword fighter, she’s sure got boobs to spare.

  Look at all that! As long as we’re just spirits, maybe I could fill out a bit, too…

  “…Why do I feel like you’re watching me?”

  “Envy. I know the feeling well.”

  Oh, shoot. I forgot everyone can see your emotions here.

  Aw, well. That priestess is about my age, and she’s no bigger than me.

  Isn’t this lady supposed to be super smart or wise or whatever? And she doesn’t know a single way to get me any more size. It’s almost funny.

  “So
re loser.”

  “Aw, shaddup!”

  Apparently, this is the astral plane or something. There’s this kind of gentle, warm light everywhere. It’s really lovely.

  The light is people’s thoughts. Their feelings. I guess it just goes to show how warm everyone in this little town is.

  That ice treat I ate in town was really sweet. Even if I went without lemonade because I couldn’t get a single ball in that frog’s mouth.

  The bacon was salty and delicious, and all the performers put on really neat shows.

  And those lanterns! I didn’t get to listen to the whole prayer, but for sure I want to come back next year.

  That’s why I’ve got to stop this big guy from getting out of here.

  That’s reason enough…but…

  “Hey, doesn’t ‘Hecatoncheir’ mean ‘the hundred-handed one’? I’d swear this guy has at least a thousand!”

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  “It’s a dirty lie!”

  I guess it’s a little late to complain now, but isn’t that cheating?!

  The god who gave me that handout—are they trying to get me killed?

  That thing’s whipping up magic like there’s no tomorrow!

  “Oh, man… Even I can’t crit every time…”

  “Hey, you hear that? The girl who always gets a breakthrough is saying something.”

  “You know, it is possible to be too humble for your own good.”

  “Pipe down, you guys, I’m trying to be dramatic!”

  I flourish my holy sword, a completely unique weapon to which my soul is bound.

  I have no idea why, but that creature was wasting time trying to manifest itself on the physical plane.

  My friends and I will keep the world safe. We’ll keep everyone safe. We’ll put the hurt on the bad guys and everything will be fine.

  Time for everyone’s favorite—the climactic face-off!

  “Here we goooo! Heroes, have at you!”

  Sun Burst!!

  The autumn sun is weaker than the one in summer, but in warmth it’s similar to spring.

  Sitting on the grass under a sky as blue as paint, it was easy to drift off.

  Cow Girl heaved a great, lazy yawn and smiled at the man with her.

  “Ahhh, this feels great.”

  “……Mrm.”

  “Oops, did I hurt you?”