by Kumo Kagyu
“Damn…!” Goblin Slayer jumped back instantaneously; there was a flash of aluminum in front of him. It was no enchanted sword, no sacred blade. And yet, it would not have been out of place in the hand of a hero.
“GRAAORRRN…!”
A goblin stood there, smoke rising from his armor and flames from his eyes. He had jumped through the wall of fire; he was like a messenger of the gods, sent to bring low his enemies on behalf of his brothers. With his aluminum sword in his right hand and a teardrop-shaped shield in his left, he looked like a caricature of a holy warrior.
The goblin paladin.
“You’re late,” Goblin Slayer said calmly. He leveled his sword, which had been reduced to the length of a dagger. It was his usual stance: shield high, hips low, wrist rotating until his sword was pointed at his enemy. “But I expected you eventually.”
“GAROAROB…!” The goblin paladin moved his equipment-laden hands in strange gestures, making some unknown sign. It was easy enough to infer that he was making a show of praise to the Outer God, who resided upon the green moon.
“…Haa…ahh…!” When Noble Fencer realized who he was, a strangled scream slipped out of her. The brand on her neck grew as hot as burning. The sign of the Outer God started to pulse. It had begun to swell—as if it might burst at any moment…
With that image in her mind, her knees began to shake. And yet she never took her eyes off one thing—the silver sword that the goblin held.
That’s mine. Mine… It was stolen from me…
And it was pointed at her—she was surprised to find herself using this word—comrades.
“Ahh…n-n-no…!”
A sound of footsteps came closer. The goblins, heartened by the appearance of their champion, had surrounded the walls as they closed in.
There was no escape. Had they cornered the paladin or been cornered by him? Would it all end here?
What should I do? What should I—?
“Hurry.” A calm, almost mechanical voice cut through her confusion. “I’ll buy you time.”
“Yes, sir!” Priestess replied immediately in a ringing tone.
Noble Fencer bit her lip. A dribble of blood came from her nape; she could feel it running down her neck.
But she was all right. She was sure of it. She would make herself all right.
“…Right.”
The actions the two girls took next were diametrically opposed.
Words of true power overflowed from Noble Fencer’s mouth. “Tonitrus…oriens…! Thunder…rise!”
Priestess, for her part, prayed to the goddess, but did not invoke a miracle: “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy. May your protection be upon us…”
This was because both of them had been told by Goblin Slayer that he would trust them.
Trust one to protect Priestess. Trust the other to use Protection at the right time.
“IRARAGARU!!”
“…Hrk!”
The goblin paladin sprang into action, babbling a prayer to his bizarre gods. The blow of his sword was swift and sharp, easily knocking away the shield Goblin Slayer had brought up to meet it.
Smite human!
Goblins as a whole tend to be of small stature. Hobgoblins excepted, they lack physical strength. The aluminum sword, however, helped make up for that. In the hand of this creature, Goblin Slayer saw now, it was a thing to be wary of. If it was enhanced by miracles from the Outer God, typical armor might well be useless against it.
Enchanted armor might be a different matter, but Goblin Slayer disliked such things. The very situation he was in made it clear what could happen if such items fell into the hands of the enemy.
“Hmph.”
Goblin Slayer’s sword work was nonchalant but masterful. Locking blades would not be the key here; he could tell that would be pointless. He would have to strike his opponent’s sword from above, forcing it down, and then use his foreshortened blade to stab at any opening.
It was not very adventurer-esque, a technique more suited to a rough and deadly duel on the outskirts of some little town. He didn’t expect the goblin paladin, who had most likely learned his swordcraft by studying adventurers, to be able to respond.
Even for Goblin Slayer, though, this opponent was too dangerous to simply try to force his way in. He took a blow with his shield, jumping far back, then brought his sword to bear, the opponent’s weapons striking out. He pushed the sword down, leaped forward strongly, letting the momentum carry him into the thrust, stabbing.
The difference in body size, in physical power and equipment, strategy, and experience, put a decisive end to the exchange.
But not the battle. That would be decided by something entirely different: two delicate young women against fifteen incoming goblins.
One look at the monsters’ cruel smiles made plain the greed, the fantasies, in those little brains.
“Heh-heh.”
And yet, despite that, despite all that was going on around her, Priestess had a little smile on her face.
The man who had her back. The one who had entrusted his back to her: she knew him, and he never did his most serious fighting in situations like this. Nor had he ever had her use her miracles at moments like these.
So now was not the time. The moment for Protection would come, but this wasn’t it.
Which meant that what she needed to do right now was come up with a plan of escape just as quickly as she could…
She looked quickly through her equipment and took out a particular item, as they’d discussed beforehand. Beside her…
“…Iacta! and fall!”
…the Lightning spell was completed.
It drew a beeline directly from Noble Fencer’s outstretched palm to… Well, one would expect the goblin paladin, wouldn’t one?
“AGARARABA?!”
“GORRRBB?!”
But no. Her attack struck the oncoming horde.
“Ee—yaaaahhh!”
In that instant, the battlefield went white. There was a tremendous noise of rushing air, such that one might imagine this was what the howl of a Thunder Drake sounded like, and then the lightning came crashing down.
The goblins scourged by the flash swelled up and exploded, screaming.
To use a powerful spell against close-packed enemies was a standard tactic. White smoke, carrying the acrid stench of cooked flesh, rose up, mingling with the smoke from the fire. Noble Fencer couldn’t resist a passing thought: that this place was hell embodied.
“…Take that…!”
The smile on her face was an unsteady one, an attempt to look strong, to be sure; but there was no question, the girls had done it. Priestess brushed a hand across her sooty, sweaty face and shouted, “Goblin Slayer, sir! It’s okay!”
“…!”
Goblin Slayer’s reaction was immediate. He spun the broken sword around in his hand so that he held it in a reverse grip, then without a moment’s hesitation, he flung it at the goblin paladin.
“GARARAI!!”
Believing this to be just a too-clever little trick, the paladin raised his shield and deflected the blade. But he also blocked his own line of sight.
It was just an instant. But it was all Goblin Slayer needed.
“Hwah?!”
“…Ah!”
The two young women cried out: they suddenly found themselves held aloft, one under each of Goblin Slayer’s arms as he jumped gracefully off the battlements.
It was just before dawn; a gentle light was beginning to spread across the land. They floated through space.
A biting cold wind rushed across the girls’ skin, sharp as a knife.
Then the sense of floating, of falling down, was arrested as abruptly as if they had hit the ground.
But they hadn’t. Goblin Slayer’s hand gripped something firmly.
The Adventurer’s Toolkit.
There was the slightest sound of heightened breathing from inside the steel helmet. Goblin Slayer, it seemed, had an uncharacteristic smile on hi
s face. “‘Never leave home without it,’ they say…”
The hook-and-rope.
Something Priestess—an Obsidian rank, just one step up the adventuring ladder—carried religiously. The hook was buried firmly in the fortress wall, the rope hanging down to the outside; what better escape route could there be?
“IGARARAROB!!”
They looked up to find the goblin paladin leaning out over the wall, bellowing, his face twisted in anger.
Goblins lived primarily underground. He had, they presumed, never before seen someone escape by jumping from a high place.
The monsters couldn’t counterattack immediately, but their nasty intelligence was more than enough to set them straight to work dislodging the hook.
Not that Goblin Slayer would let them, of course. With Priestess and Noble Fencer clinging to him, one to each side, he braced his feet against the wall and began his descent in a series of great jumps. His movements were quick and sure, obviously the product of focused training.
“A-aren’t we heavy…?” Priestess asked.
“A little.”
The question had just slipped out of her, and she frowned a bit at the answer. She blushed and felt a touch of anger at him. It was only natural that a girl her age should shoot back at him: “You’re supposed to say, ‘No, you’re perfectly light’!”
“Is that so?”
“It is!”
“I see.”
Goblin Slayer nodded, although chances were slim that he really understood what she was upset about.
At almost the same moment as Goblin Slayer put his feet on the snowy ground, the rope was severed, falling down after them. He collected it and wrapped it around his shoulder.
“I’ll pay you back later.” It was an odd moment to think of such social niceties, but so characteristic that even Noble Fencer felt a slight smile coming to her face.
But this wasn’t over yet.
“IGURARARARABORR!!”
The goblin paladin, mad with rage, let out a yell that echoed around the mountain, knocking snow from the ramparts. With many a creak and clatter, the great main gate began to open.
They had to move quickly, or they would find themselves right back where they had begun.
“…Where are the others?” Noble Fencer asked.
“They’ll be here soon.”
And so they were. There was a crunching noise as the snow-covered ground began to rise up, then the rest of the party popped out from beneath the earth.
“Phew! Ahhh! I’m going to be well and truly tired of goblin tunnels when this is over!” exclaimed Dwarf Shaman, crawling out of the hole like a mole.
“Up you get,” he said, reaching back down into the tunnel and taking someone’s hand. With no small display of delicacy, he helped High Elf Archer to the surface.
“You’re not kidding,” she said, dusting herself off and frowning. “I can’t believe you dwarves can live underground. Are you sure you guys aren’t related to goblins?”
“Pick up those long ears and listen to me, you two-thousand-year-old anvil. There are things you can joke about, and things you can’t.”
“Two-thousand-year-old what? Are you looking to start a war, little man?”
And they were off and arguing. It was just their usual banter, but it had started so suddenly that Noble Fencer was completely lost.
“…Er. Ahem…”
“All according to plan,” Goblin Slayer said.
“Just so!” a scaly head said, popping up out of the ground. He looked rather monstrous but crawled out easily. “Worry not. Sad their state may appear, but they are unharmed.”
As intimidating as he looked, Lizard Priest also seemed happy. Two wasted prisoners hung under each of his arms, four in total. He had physical strength enough to move effortlessly despite carrying them all, and the first aid that had been administered to the women was exemplary as well. It appeared that, indeed, there was no need to fear for their lives.
“Thank goodness…” Priestess let out a relieved breath, tears springing to her eyes. “I was worried about all of you. Are you hurt?”
“Not a scratch!” High Elf Archer said, briefly interrupting her argument with Dwarf Shaman. She puffed out her chest proudly. “What about you? You didn’t suffer, did you? I mean, at the hands of Orcbolg…”
“Oh… Ha-ha-ha-ha. No. We’re all right. No trouble at all.”
“Well.” High Elf Archer gave a satisfied nod to see Priestess’s brave smile. Then she looked at Goblin Slayer and finally at Noble Fencer. The battle was over; the girl was covered in blood and dust, yet she looked back at the ranger with eyes that shone with light.
The elf gave a slow flip of her ears, then smiled like a cat.
“You did it, huh?”
She bumped Noble Fencer on the shoulder with her fist. The girl put her hand to the spot, blinking. Then she looked down, as if to hide the tears in her eyes, and said simply, “Yes.”
“Well, you can see this is none of it any trouble for us,” Dwarf Shaman said, stroking his beard proudly and chuckling.
And in fact, that was the truth.
The Tunnel spell might have seemed only a way of moving rocks and dirt, but without it, they could not have saved the prisoners. Nor could they have done it without Lizard Priest’s strength to carry the girls out. Lacking High Elf Archer’s sharp senses, they might have had to fight many more goblins.
They had stolen the goblins’ weapons, destroyed their provisions, saved the prisoners, and then taken on the fortress’s monstrous inhabitants. Goblin Slayer could only imagine how much time and trouble it would have demanded alone.
“Ahem, well then, Beard-cutter,” Dwarf Shaman said, squinting. “What happened to your sword?”
“I threw it.”
The blunt response elicited a smile and a “That’s what I thought” from the dwarf. “Well, pick whichever one you like. They’re all goblin stuff, but that ought to suit you.”
“Thank you, that helps. Although I will probably just throw it away again.”
“Ahh, don’t worry about it!”
Just salvage anyway. He held out a bundle of swords, the weapons they had stolen from the armory earlier.
So the goblins had stolen them and kept them for a while—only to have adventurers steal them back. Goblin Slayer found it rather an odd thought. He picked the weapon whose blade was the most familiar length to him. He slid it into his scabbard without hesitation. There was no question he felt a bit off without arms.
“So all we’ve got left to do is get that girl’s sword back, is it?” Dwarf Shaman said.
“Right.” Goblin Slayer pulled a jar from his item pouch: a stamina potion.
He popped the cork and drank it in a single swallow. The warmth that spread through his body felt good.
He had saved this item, something Guild Girl had given him before he left, for a special moment.
Goblin Slayer looked at his companions: At Priestess, the girl who had faith in him. At High Elf Archer, who stuck with him through thick and thin. At Dwarf Shaman, who could be relied upon in the most dire circumstances. At Lizard Priest, to whom he entrusted his safety in battle. And at Noble Fencer, who had given her all to persevere until this moment.
Each of them was covered in mud and blood and ash, but here they were.
Then he looked to the horizon. The frontier town was away south. Cow Girl was there, waiting for him to come home. Guild Girl was there.
There were more and more things in his life that he simply couldn’t do alone.
This thought crossed his mind, followed soon after by the conclusion that this was, most probably, fine by him.
In that case, there was only one thing to do.
The same thing he always did.
“We’re going to slay all the goblins.”
§
Goblins have no concept of industry, of creating things with their own hands. Added to that, they had lost dozens of their brothers in this most recent battle
. They would have to avoid being depleted any further, save up supplies.
To fill out their ranks, however, they would need wombs. Wombs and food.
In order to capture females and steal provisions, they would have to attack a village.
And in order to attack a village, they would have to gather their fighting strength, maintain it, move it, and strike at the right moment.
All these things were stolen. Their women were kidnapped, their weapons purloined, their food taken by force.
We can’t do anything—we can do nothing! This makes no sense. We are the ones who steal; they are the ones who are stolen from.
This? This makes me no different from the others.
Adventurers burst into my nest and take what is mine—that makes me nothing but…nothing but a goblin!
“GOURRR…”
The goblin paladin, much more intelligent than any of his comrades, could tell that everything was over. With things as they were, the surviving goblins could hardly be expected to continue to obey him.
Goblins had a strong sense of camaraderie, but what bound them together was greed. They killed those they hated, raped them, stole from them, humiliated them in the most awful ways. What else would a goblin do?
Now there was no way forward; the goblin paladin’s plans lay in ruins.
In that case, there was only one thing to do.
The same thing he always did.
Attack the adventurers. Kill the men, capture the women. Then he would chain them up in his dungeon, feed them the flesh of their own comrades, and force them to bear children until their hearts broke and they died.
Goblins did not understand that they might face reprisal for stealing, might be paid back. They only understood that they had been victimized and would have their revenge.
“IRAGARARARARA!!”
Thus, all that followed was a burst of rage.
§
The light of dawn fell on the burning fortress, a silvery sheen that glinted off the mountain upon whose slopes all this happened.
The gleam of the sun and the summit together fell upon the adventurers as they ran along. Even so much as a slip in the snow would have been fatal. Because, as it happened, they were being pursued by a group of crazed goblins hell-bent on killing them.