by Kumo Kagyu
Hmm…? Who’s that? They look real important.
A sorcerer from the Capital? But they’re so short!
Whoa, sorry, sorry! Don’t get angry. I just thought it was cool.
My report? Oh yeah. Um… Let’s see. I guess I’ll start at the beginning.
I was brought up at the Temple, but I turned fifteen, so I had to leave. I decided to become an adventurer…
And there was this quest to slay some goblins in an old cave near this village. I mean, everyone starts with goblins, right?
Anyway, it was less of a cave than some ancient ruins. They looked just like in all the stories. Inside, it looked…it kind of looked like the Temple in town.
Huh? Goblins? Oh yeah, there were some. A lot, actually. They kept coming at me, so I kept cutting them down. I got blood all over me, and they stink. It was a real pain.
Poison? That’s what antidotes are for, right? A helmet? Those things get so hot. Plus, my hair is too long for them.
And then, um… Where was I? Oh, right. I was saying how it looked like the Temple inside. As far in as you could go, there was this pedestal, and when I went up to it, I met this big old boss. He was all, “I am one of the sixteen Generals of Hell!” or whatever. He was really full of himself. Even though he was just some goblin. He was a goblin, wasn’t he?
I guess there are some strong goblins, though. He was actually using spells on me! But I’ve got some spells, too. I used Firebolt. Maybe…five or six times? I wasn’t counting. That made me pretty tired, so I was like, “Time to end this!” but when I tried to stab him, my sword broke!
Then he comes at me! “I’m going to eat your liver!” he says. I hate to admit it, but…well, let’s say I was wearing clean underwear when I went in there.
A-anyhow, I was pretty worried because I didn’t have a sword, but I reached right out for the pedestal. Why? Well, because there was a sword buried in it. Like the one in the symbol of the Supreme God. I didn’t care if it was old; I just needed a weapon. The sword popped right out, and guess what? It was still shiny, like it was brand-new!
It didn’t take much after that. The boss made a nasty scream when I cut him in half. “You may kill me,” he says, “but the other fifteen will hunt you! You’ll have no rest, to the ends of the earth they’ll pursue you!” I mean, whatever, right? Fifteen goblins, fifty goblins, who cares?
What do you mean, do I plan to fight them?
…Huh? The ancient spirits of evil have returned? The guy I killed was one of their generals? And this is the sword of light?
Pfft. As if. I can’t be the legendary hero, can I?
I mean, I’m a girl!
Even now, he remembered one time when his older sister had scolded him roundly.
It was when he had made that girl, his old friend, cry.
Why? Right… Because she was taking a trip to the city. She was going to stay at a farm.
She’d been telling him all about it. He’d grown jealous. He couldn’t help himself.
He didn’t know anything about life outside their village. He didn’t know the name of the mountains in the distance or anything that lay beyond them.
He knew that if you followed the road long enough, you would come to a city, but what that meant, what kind of city it was, he didn’t know.
At a younger age, he’d thought he would become an adventurer. He would leave the village, maybe slay a dragon or two, and then come home as a hero—a Platinum-ranked adventurer.
Of course, after he’d seen a few more birthdays come and go, he had realized that was impossible.
No—not impossible.
But he would have to leave his sister. The sister who had raised him after their mother and father died.
He could have become an adventurer. But he decided not to choose that path.
That was why he’d been angry at his friend.
As his sister led him home by the hand, she scolded him.
“When you get angry at someone, you become a goblin!” and “You’re supposed to protect girls!”
His sister was wise.
It wasn’t that she had a great deal of knowledge, but her mind was sharp. Maybe the sharpest in the village. In fact, she earned her food by teaching the local children to read and write. Children were needed to work on their families’ farms, but literacy was important, too.
In all things, she tried to impart to her little brother the importance of using his head. If you just keep thinking, she told him, you’ll come up with something eventually.
His sister must have dreamed of going to the city to study. But she stayed in the village for his sake. So he would stay, too. For hers.
To him, it was the obvious thing.
When they got home, his sister made him a stew of milk and chicken meat. He loved his sister’s stew. He would ask for another bowl, and then another, but now he couldn’t remember how it had tasted.
No doubt because that was the last time he’d had it before they came…
He opened his eyes slowly.
He raised himself off the reed mat and looked up at a familiar ceiling.
His body still ached. He gradually stretched his limbs, then calmly took his clothes in hand. An unadorned hempen shirt. It was faded from repeated washings and smelled faintly of soap. The shirt kept him from burning in the sun. And it covered the scars that were all over his body.
He pulled on the ordinary hempen shirt, then cotton gambeson.
He went to put on his steel helmet and armor, then remembered he had given them to a shop to repair.
He had no shield, either. It had taken a critical hit from that ogre.
“…Hmph.”
There was nothing to be done about it. He put his sword at his hip for a bare minimum of security. His field of view seemed exceptionally wide and bright, his head too light, and it unsettled him.
“Good morning! You sure slept well!” The voice came at him like a surprise attack.
It was that girl, his old friend, leaning into his room, her chest resting on the sill of the open window.
A breeze blew into the room. He hadn’t felt the air of early summer on his bare skin like this in a long time.
His friend was in her work clothes. A little sweat beaded on her forehead. From the light that poured in, he guessed the sun was already high in the sky.
“Sorry,” he said, offering the laconic word in apology for oversleeping. It looked like she had already started in on caring for the animals. He had completely missed the chance to help.
She waved it away, no hint of annoyance in her tone. “Oh, no, it’s fine. You need rest more than anything. I know you do, because otherwise, you would never miss your morning inspection. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.”
“It looks like it’ll be a hot one today. Sure you won’t be too warm in those clothes?”
“…Maybe you’re right,” he said with a slow nod. She was right. And really, the bulky cotton would get in the way while he was working. So he tore off the underarmor he had put on just moments before and tossed it on the bed.
“Gosh, you don’t have to be so rough with it. You’ll tear it.”
“I don’t care.”
“Of course you don’t…” She gave a deep shrug and narrowed her eyes like she was babysitting some young boy. “Well, fine by me. I’m hungry. Uncle should be up by now. Let’s hurry and have breakfast.”
“Fine,” he answered calmly and left his room. He strode down the hallway.
The master of the house, already seated at the table in the dining area, went wide-eyed when he saw the figure in the doorway.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Ye…yeah. Morning.”
He paid Uncle’s reaction no mind, but only gave a courteous nod and sat down across from him. Uncle shifted uncomfortably.
“You’ve, uhh, you’re up rather late today…”
“Yes.” He nodded firmly. “I overslept. I will do my inspection later.”
“I
see…” The acknowledgment came out almost as a groan. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then furrowed his eyebrows. “You ought to…rest for a while. Can’t work if you don’t have your strength, right?”
He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “True.”
This was as close as they came to a conversation.
He knew the owner of the farm was a good person. He treated the girl, his niece, like his own daughter. But he also knew the owner did not like him, or at least found him discomfiting.
It was each person’s choice whom they liked and disliked. He certainly didn’t need to try to convince Uncle one way or the other.
“Whew! Sorry it took so long! I’ll put out the food in a second, so dig in!” His old friend came running in moments later and began to set out dishes on the table. Cheese and bread and a creamy soup. All made fresh on the farm. He ate greedily, as always. When he had finished, he piled the empty plates, pushed his chair back noisily, and stood.
“I’m going.”
“What? Aw, shoot, time to make the deliveries already?” At his words, she began to clean up hurriedly. She stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth in a rather unbecoming way. Watching her, the owner of the farm pinched up his mouth reluctantly.
“The cart again?”
“Oh, Uncle, you’re such a worrywart. I keep telling you, I’m a lot stronger than I look…”
“I’ll take them,” he said shortly. The girl and her uncle exchanged a look. Had he not been clear enough?
“I will take them,” he repeated. She seemed confused, not quite looking at him, then she shook her head.
“No, you…you don’t have to do that. You need to rest.”
“My body will go soft,” he said calmly. “Besides, I have business at the Guild.” He knew he didn’t say much. He couldn’t remember if he had always been that way. But he knew that however brief he might be, she was always looking for ways to take care of him.
All the more reason he should say clearly what he had to say.
“It’s all right,” he said, and he left the dining area.
He could hear her quick footsteps as she hurried after him.
The cart was waiting just outside. The deliveries for the Adventurers Guild had been loaded up the night before. He tugged on the ropes to make sure everything was secure, then picked up the crossbar and began to push.
The wheels creaked to life, rumbling along the gravel path. He could feel the weight in his arms.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Just as he reached the gate, she came running up, breathing hard. She peered at his face.
“Yes.” He nodded shortly, then gave another push.
The tree-lined road ran all the way to the city. He went slowly, one step after the next, feeling the earth under his feet.
Just as she’d said, the day seemed likely to get hot. It was not yet noon, and already the sun’s rays were pounding down. He was perspiring within moments. He should’ve brought a hand towel.
He was just figuring that if it didn’t get in his eyes no harm was done when something soft brushed his forehead.
“What happened to getting some rest?” Her cheeks puffed out in annoyance as she dabbed at his forehead with her own handkerchief. “You collapsed the minute you got back and slept for days. Do you know how worried I was?” He pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head. Surely it wasn’t that important.
“That was already three days ago.”
“It was only three days ago! That’s why I said not to overdo it,” she said as she reached out and wiped his face. “You could barely stand up! You need to rest.”
Still pulling the cart, he sighed. “You…”
“Huh?”
“…are a lot like your uncle.”
She looked like she couldn’t quite decide whether that made her happy or angry. Either way, she didn’t seem prepared to back off.
“It’s just a little overwork. You don’t have to worry about me,” he explained with a hint of annoyance.
No. It wasn’t annoyance. He just hated to be reminded that he could barely look after his own health.
But I need to be reminded. So that I won’t make the same mistake twice.
“Is that what your Priestess friend told you?” Her voice had an edge to it. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that her cheeks were still puffed a bit in a sulk.
“No.”
He gazed forward again and threw himself into another push of the cart.
“Another party member said that.”
“Hmm,” she said, mollified. “You’re adventuring with a lot of new people these days.”
“We’ve only been on one quest.”
“It sounds like you’re planning to go on more, then?”
He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.
It would be a lie to say he had no such intention. There were worse things. But would he go out of his way to invite them on his next quest…?
At that moment, the wind came up. He closed his eyes, hearing the rustling of the branches and basking in the light that filtered through the leaves.
They stopped talking.
The breeze. Their footsteps. Their breath. The rumble of the wheels turning.
A bird sang somewhere. A child shouted at play. The tumult of the city was still far off.
“This is nice.” The murmur suddenly came from his lips.
“What…?”
“This is nicer than hunting goblins.”
“Gee, you really know how to charm a girl.”
“I see…”
Apparently, he was still not communicating clearly.
If you didn’t know what to say, it was better not to say anything. From the corner of his eye, he took in her confused expression. He kept pushing the cart in silence.
“Heh-heh!” she laughed suddenly. Almost as if she herself hadn’t expected it.
“What?”
“Nothing!”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She walked along, humming a tune he didn’t recognize. Still, he didn’t have to recognize it. She was happy. That was enough.
They parked the cart at the back entrance and came into the lobby of the Guild. All was calm. It was almost noon, so of course most of the adventurers had already set out. Or maybe they were all up at the Capital, which had seen a good deal of trouble lately. He didn’t know. In the Guild Hall, there were a few quest givers filing paperwork and a few adventurers he knew cooling their heels, but that was it. Very few people seemed to be sitting around waiting for anyone, and the line to see Guild Girl was short.
“Perfect,” his old friend said with a happy clap. “I won’t have to wait forever to get the signature I need. I’ll take care of that and be right back, but…you said you had something to do, too, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Well, when you’re done, we can meet up here and go home together!”
“All right.”
He watched her run off smiling, then took a look around the lobby.
He didn’t see who he was looking for. Maybe he was a little early.
In that case, he would wait in his usual seat by the wall. He headed over with his characteristic bold stride…
“Hrm…?”
…and almost ran smack into a person sitting in the chair. That person looked up at him suspiciously. It was the spear-wielding adventurer.
Spearman slumped in the chair, limbs akimbo, glaring openly at him.
“Never seen anyone so fit but so pale. I don’t recognize your face. You new around here?”
“No.” He shook his head once as he spoke. Of course, the man recognized him. And of course, he wasn’t new.
But it seemed Spearman refused to believe it was really him without his usual armor. Spearman addressed him in the tone one might use with an unfamiliar colleague.
“Guess you wouldn’t be. Adventurers who want to make money these days go to t
he Capital, huh?” he said. “You must be here for a break or something.”
The newcomer nodded at “something,” and Spearman laughed.
“Capital’s a rough place. I can see why you’d want to take a little time off.” With a nimble move, he straightened up and adjusted his grip on his spear. “I hear over there everyone’s worried about evil spirits or something. A battle to save the world? Sounds like a hell of a way to make a name for yourself.”
“Aren’t you going there?”
“Me? Don’t be ridiculous. The only thing I fight for is me. Not money and not the fate of the world.
“Well,” Spearman amended, “me and…” He gave Guild Girl a significant look.
When the newcomer let his gaze drift over to the front desk as well, he saw Guild Girl running around behind it like an excited puppy. Apparently, a crowd of adventurers wasn’t the only thing that kept the Guild busy.
“…personal reasons,” Spearman finished. “I don’t need some motto, some rallying cry.”
“Don’t you, now?”
“I don’t.” So saying, Spearman flopped back in the chair.
Both of them saw the sensuous Witch slinking toward them.
“Well, see you,” Spearman said. “I’ve got a date with—or should I say in—some ruins. Wish me luck!”
“I will.” He nodded quietly.
“You’re a real people person,” Spearman said with a laugh, and: “That’s not all bad.”
As the two of them left the room, Witch looked back at this “people person” and gave him a broad, meaningful wink and a laugh.
“Take care, now,” she said.
“I will.”
And then he sat down in the newly empty chair.
He stared vacantly up at the high ceiling of the Guild Hall. It was only now dawning on him that Spearman and Witch were in a party together. And here he’d thought he knew both of them rather well.
“Um, Goblin Slayer, sir! Goblin Slayer, are you here, sir?!”
This time, a hesitant voice. He shifted his gaze toward the sound but didn’t move his head, a habit from wearing his helmet for so long.
He saw the apprentice boy from the workshop, standing there in a conspicuously grease-stained leather apron.