by Kumo Kagyu
Woe to the traveler who was set upon by goblins on the road in summer. Goblins didn’t have the wisdom to store up food, although even if they had, it would soon have spoiled. After they’d had their fill of making sport of their victim, they would immediately eat whatever they could of the unfortunate soul, thinking nothing of the future.
Man or woman, in the end, not even the bones would remain.
Sadly, it’s an all too common story.
Travelers losing their lives on the road, of course, was hardly a phenomenon that only occurred in summer. Goblins and Non-Prayers were by no means the only ones who were hungry. Bandits, brigands, and mercenaries turned to raiding—among others—were all out there.
The point is, every corner of the world was full of danger. Some took this as a reason to criticize the king or the country’s administration, but such people simply didn’t know their history. In all of time and memory, there has never been an age without an element of danger.
Similarly, resources have always been limited. As far as Guild Girl knew, the current king was doing a perfectly decent job… Or at least, so she thought. He didn’t start unnecessary wars, and he had faced off with the Dark Gods’ followers to keep the country safe.
We’ve got peace now, as far as it goes.
Even if the definition of peace was merely the lull between wars.
But to repeat, resources were limited and danger was ever present. The Guild wouldn’t necessarily receive a quest simply because one traveler had gone missing. For one thing, if nobody knew that the person had disappeared, nothing would be done. It was a sad situation, and a flaw in the Adventurers Guild. Adventurers moved on these sorts of problems only when a traveler’s relation filed a quest…
…Or when the adventurers themselves have very good hearts.
“But there are still goblins out there,” Goblin Slayer said, with no heed for what was going on in Guild Girl’s mind. “That will not change.”
“But,” said Priestess, shrewdly pretending to ask a question while actually cutting in, “you can’t defeat them all by yourself, can you? And you don’t have to, right?”
“…”
Goblin Slayer was silent. After so many years with him, Guild Girl knew that this was how he acted when he had been backed into a corner.
In some ways, he’s not that difficult a person to understand.
An involuntary giggle escaped her lips, and Goblin Slayer’s steel helmet turned toward her. She waved a hand as if to say Nothing, nothing.
“Honestly,” she said, “it won’t do for us to be troubling you with every single goblin quest that comes along, Mr. Goblin Slayer.”
“Well, there you have it,” Priestess said with a sweet but pointed cough. “Will you handle this for us?”
“Oh, certainly. I know this man would never take a vacation if we left him to his own devices.”
“Sounds a lot like you.”
Someone gave Guild Girl an unexpected rap on the head, provoking a little ow! It was her seatmate and colleague, Inspector, standing behind her with a sheaf of papers in hand.
Inspector sighed as if to suggest that this served Guild Girl right, and she followed up by gently tapping her papers against the other woman’s shoulder. “Remind me how long it’s been since you last took a day off?”
Guild Girl clutched her head and protested weakly, “I—I take them…”
Inspector produced another exasperated sigh. “So then you’re going to this wedding, too, right? That’s what these kids are here for, isn’t it? To invite you?”
Before Guild Girl had a chance to answer, High Elf Archer was leaning in over the desk. “Of course!” she said, nodding vigorously. Without any need to pretend, she added, “We’re friends, after all!”
Seeing this display of genuine eagerness, Guild Girl responded with an ambiguous expression and a scratch of her cheek. Then her fingers played through her hair, twirling her braids. Yes, she was aware it wasn’t very polite.
“Er… Well, I certainly appreciate the sentiment, but…”
No, stop. If I turn down this invitation…
How could she explain herself to High Elf Archer, let alone Priestess or Goblin Slayer? She took a quick glance at his helmet, even though, as ever, it hid his expression.
“Just take a couple days off already!”
“Yipe!” Another blow from the papers.
As Guild Girl sat there groaning quietly, Inspector put on her best smile and said, “Now, Mister, uh… Goblin Slayer.”
“What is it?”
Guild Girl made a little squeak, but Inspector ignored her, pulling the papers right out of her hands. They were, of course, a collection of the nearest goblin-slaying quests.
“It’ll be best for both of us if we get some of this work out of the way,” Inspector said, rolling up the papers like a scroll and handing the lot to Goblin Slayer. “Maybe you could help my friend here relax by taking care of two or three goblin nests.”
“Naturally.”
There was no argument, no hesitation as Goblin Slayer took the quest papers in one decisive motion. Silently, he unrolled them and considered the descriptions. He never so much as glanced at the rewards. What he wanted was information, knowledge about the goblins’ fighting strength.
After a long moment, he asked softly, “Is it all right?”
High Elf Archer was frowning as hard as she could, her long ears back against her head, but she answered, “I can’t speak for the dwarf… But me, I’m not gonna say no.”
“You’re sure? I don’t much mind either way.”
“Excuse me very much, Goblin Slayer, sir,” Priestess said, furrowing her shapely eyebrows. She raised a pale pointer finger and, in a tone suggesting they’d had this conversation more than once before, said, “When we don’t have a choice, it doesn’t count as a discussion, remember?”
§
“Hrr—gyaaaaaahhhhhh!”
The woman’s scream, like the gibbering of a chicken having its neck wrung, echoed throughout the twilit chapel.
However many tried to push their way closer, there was a physical limit to how many goblins one person could accommodate at a time. Yes, goblins were small, but even counting both arms, her mouth, and perhaps her hair, there was room for maybe just five or six at a time.
There were easily more than a dozen monsters surrounding the woman bound to the altar at that moment, though. The violation of her chastity was horrific enough, but this victim was subject to all their cruel desires at once, truly a pitiful position.
The woman whose agonized scream had sounded in the worship hall was now dressed in nothing more than the rags of what had once been a traveling outfit. Her limbs, which could just be seen through the press of goblin bodies, were tan and fairly muscular.
She had been a traveler lodging in this convent, in a small library dedicated to the God of Knowledge.
Now there was no way to know where she had meant to go or why she had stayed in this place. The texts, the gems of wisdom stored here, were no longer in a fit state to be read. All the knowledge gathered by the maidens—who had left their homes and shut themselves up in this place for any number of reasons—had been trampled underfoot. The goblins had taken these precious records of knowledge and torn them apart, defiled them, even set fire to a few at random.
The pillaged library now held only the nuns, their spirits broken by unimaginable predations. The traveler saw what the goblins had done to them, and yet, she chose to fight—good, strong prey for the little devils.
Had she been fighting to protect the nuns or to open a way for her own escape? The goblins assumed it must be the latter. The more honorable reading, however, was that the traveler had wielded her sword bravely, with no concern for herself.
At least until the goblins pulled her to the ground, beat her mercilessly, and broke her arm.
It had been several days since then, and the remaining goblins were still busy getting their revenge for the ones she had ki
lled. They had left the traveler for last so that they could enjoy seeing her terror build as she witnessed the fates they devised for the nuns.
They never once thought that she might try to escape. Or rather, they assumed there was no possible way she could.
Goblins habitually demonstrate extreme overconfidence despite the absence of proof. They never imagine anything they attempt might fail. And even on the off chance that anything should happen—
“GOORRIRRROG!!”
“Urgh! Aggh—gah—y—you bas—taaaghh!”
—it would always be because some idiot like this had gotten in their way.
The goblins fully believed that everyone in this little library was a complete and utter fool. They kept this room full of incomprehensible, boring papers, and there was so little food. Humans, the goblins chuckled, did so much that made so little sense.
The goblins, of course, could have never understood the meaning of the tomes held within this library. It was just off a road, standing quietly in a forest where it had been built with the conviction that while knowledge and wisdom were born of the profane world, it was important to avoid becoming sullied by that same world.
Just because it was a small library didn’t mean it lacked any defenses against monsters or bandits. It had stone walls, and occasionally, traveling adventurers or mercenaries would stay there. But prolonged exposure to the elements could wear away a part of a wall. And there were those times when no armed visitor was lodging with them.
Was that why the goblins had targeted them? Why had they been attacked by the goblins?
One could ask, but the God of Knowledge was unlikely ever to lead one to an answer.
Goblins were like a natural disaster; they came from nowhere at all. They had simply happened to appear here, at this moment.
“Hrrraaaaghhhh!”
The library was now a place of debauchery. And over in one corner of the God of Knowledge’s worship hall, a single goblin rested his chin in his hands, enjoying the sound of the woman’s screams in his ears.
Once they’d had their fun with her, would they keep her alive to bear their young, or immediately kill and eat her?
Most likely, she would become food, the goblin thought. The other young-bearers needed something to eat, and anyway, it would be boring not to kill her. Unsatisfying.
“Gyaaaaaaahhhh!”
A high-pitched scream. Some impatient goblin must have applied a hatchet to her broken arm or something.
“GROB! GOOROORB!!”
“GOORROB!”
Somebody complained to the hatcheteer, he responded, and their cruel cackling at the thrashing woman filled the chapel.
This wouldn’t do. There were several ways to enjoy a dead woman, but now was the only moment to seize the pleasures of a live one.
The goblin licked his chops, his tiny brain straining. Maybe he could find a good opportunity to cut in line, get a chance to enjoy the woman while she was still alive. This was his only concern; he had no interest in the other goblins he would be cutting ahead of, much less the young woman herself.
Goblins had a sense of solidarity, recognized one another as fellows. But their first loyalty was always and ever to themselves. How could they gain, have pleasure, achieve the best position, kill people who were evil—or at least people they didn’t like?
The death of other goblins made a perfect excuse to enjoy their victim until they killed off the unfortunate thing.
“GROOROB!”
“GRO! GOORB!!”
The goblin picked one of the others almost at random and lit into him.
I’ve been on guard all this time! You all need to do some guarding, too! It’s not fair for goblins who haven’t been on guard duty to have all the fun, you greedy bastards.
The goblin made his case (in which he highlighted only those details that were convenient) then gave the thoughtless creature a shove on the shoulder.
“Er—ergaahh! Y— Y-you’re…killing…me…!”
“GROB! GOOROBB!”
This was a monster who cared nothing for either other goblins or how the pitiful woman tried to resist him. The cruelties by which he enjoyed himself don’t bear speaking of.
Here’s the important point: absorbed in his enjoyment, he never noticed.
“GRRRRR…”
He didn’t notice the arm reach out of the darkness and grab the goblin who stood grumbling about the unfairness of it all. The eerily silent appendage wrapped itself around the goblin’s neck like a snake and squeezed hard.
“…B—?!”
Before the creature could even cry out, a knife had slit his throat.
A hand covered the goblin’s mouth as he choked on his own blood, resting there for several seconds until he had stopped breathing.
The goblin’s corpse was readily rolled behind one of the pews, and then the owner of the arm waved toward the shadows.
That owner was a man, wearing grimy leather armor, a cheap-looking steel helmet, a sword of a strange length, and a small, round shield on his arm.
It was Goblin Slayer.
At his gesture, Lizard Priest came forward, his tail tucked in. High Elf Archer followed him, then Priestess, and then Dwarf Shaman. None of them made a sound as they moved: not a footstep, not a rustle of their clothes.
The reason they could pull off such a feat was thanks to the girl who was praying with her eyes shut, her hands wrapped around a sounding staff.
“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant us peace to accept all things.”
They were ensconced in the absolute quiet granted by Priestess’s Silence miracle.
Her vestments were covered in dark stains, evidence of the several goblins they had already dealt with. The cruor-smeared marks didn’t seem to bother her, though; she only knelt and continued to pray. Her faithful heart helped to protect the adventurers with this soundless bubble.
High Elf Archer was much the opposite; she looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. “Ugghh…”
She may have been using a perfume pouch, but even so, the stench of goblin waste, and of the juices of their innards, assaulted her sharp senses. She couldn’t keep the disgusting stuff from getting on her cloak, leaving her outfit smelling rather unpleasant.
Why can’t the gods block out smells, too? High Elf Archer looked up reproachfully at the statue standing in the worship hall.
It was an image of the sage who had charted the movements of the stars.
There was, of course, no answer to High Elf Archer’s impertinent question.
I’m here saving your followers because apparently you can’t do it yourself. I’d appreciate a little gratitude.
Okay, maybe that was a bit too close to sacrilege. Her ears twitched, and she set an arrow into her bow.
The adventurers’ party had made it to the chapel without undue difficulty. And now they were faced with twenty or so goblins, absorbed in their fun. They weren’t going to let this chance go.
The members of Goblin Slayer’s party nodded to one another, followed by a series of quick signals.
“……”
“……”
It was Dwarf Shaman who acted first. He took a mouthful of fire wine from the flask at his hip and immediately spat it out. The mist settled over the room as he chanted, “Drink deep, sing loud, let the spirits lead you! Sing loud, step quick, and when to sleep they see you, may a jar of fire wine be in your dreams to greet you!”
The goblins, afflicted by Stupor, began to loll on their feet, whereupon Goblin Slayer jumped into action. He vaulted over the pew, running along the stone floor and sending his sword flying. The blade traveled noiselessly through the air until the moment it left the area of Silence’s effect, when it made a soft whistling sound.
Even goblins, as stupid as they are, wouldn’t miss that.
“GOOROB! GOROOOB!!”
“GRRORB!!”
Several of the monsters pointed and shouted, but it was too late. The goblin who stood th
rusting his hips felt something enter the back of his head and pierce him clean through to his mouth. Did he even understand what it was?
The goblin, his spine sheared clean through, foamed at the mouth, his dirty golden eyes rolling in his head.
“GOOROOROOOB?!”
“One.”
Goblin Slayer practically lunged forward, using his shield to lash out at one of the nearby goblins. In the same motion, he grabbed a sickle from the hip of the first writhing monster, using it to cut the throat of the second.
“Two.”
Using his shield to stop the blood from spattering on them, he pulled out the blade then tossed the goblin down so it was covering the young woman.
“You are alive, correct?”
He glanced down at the twitching, blood-covered woman beneath the corpse.
He knew how the goblins worked. It would be more than a little troublesome if they were able to use the woman as a shield against him.
The motions he was seeing, though, were probably shock from pain and blood loss. She was still alive, but she didn’t have long. As usual, time was of the essence.
The goblins made their hostility toward the invaders plain. Goblin Slayer watched them vigilantly.
“Hurry!”
“Let us be on our way, then.”
“R-right!”
Lizard Priest swept Priestess up in his arms then set off at a run, his claws digging into the stone floor. He leaned forward at an angle that would have been untenable for a human, but his long tail allowed him to maintain his balance.
“GOROOOB! GROBB!”
“GGOOORB!”
The goblins, needless to say, would not let them get away with this. They may not have been very intelligent, but they weren’t going to let these women slip through their fingers all at once. And Lizard Priest literally had his hands full with Priestess…
“Krrraaahhhhhhaaaa!”
“GOOROB?!”
Then again, as long as he had his claws and fangs and tail, who cared about his hands? Dragons and nagas certainly didn’t need weapons.