Goblin Slayer - Volume 1 - Chapter 12

Chapter 12 – Over The Goblins’ Hill

It was the start of a long night. 

“GRARARARARARA! GRARARARA!!” 

Seeing the moon at the top of the sky—“high noon” for his people—the goblin lord gave his orders. 

His words were conveyed in an instant by a clamor of growling voices, and the goblin army began to advance. Hidden in a field of grass as tall as they were, they raised their shields as they came to their feet. The goblins called them “meat shields”: boards to which captured women and children had been tied. In all, ten naked prisoners were held before the army. They periodically moaned, or spasmed, or twitched uncomprehendingly. 

The goblins, for their part, had already had plenty of sport with these prisoners. Whether the meat shield lived or died mattered nothing to them. What mattered was that this would cause opposing adventurers to falter when launching an arrow or a spell. By contrast, if an adventurer had captured a goblin and used him in the same way, no other goblin would have hesitated to shoot straight through him. True, he might have been angry about having to kill his fellow goblin, but it would only be all the more motivation to tear his enemy apart. 

The goblin lord cackled at the thought of what fools adventurers were. 

At the edge of sight, they could make out the lights of the farm. The city could just be seen farther beyond. 

There were adventurers in the city. Adventurers! A filthy word for filthy creatures. 

The goblin lord came to a snap decision. He would take each adventurer and pound them full of stakes until they died. Maybe by the end, they would repent of all they had done to his kind. 

Just like the adventurers who had attacked his nest—his home—and had abandoned him in the wilderness because he was so young. 

They would start with the farm. Steal the cattle and sheep to fill their bellies. Take the girl for their own to increase their numbers. 

The farm would make a convenient beachhead to attack the city, slaughter the adventurers, and further bolster their ranks. Then, finally, they would turn toward the human Capital, raze it, and raise up a goblin kingdom in its place! 

That day was still a dream, but the plan in the goblin lord’s mind was quite real. 

The rank and file below him could not make sense of it. But they had their anger, and their hatred, and their lust roiling within them. Reconnaissance of the farm had revealed the presence not just of fresh meat, but of a young girl. 

They moved ardently through the grass, which rustled as they went. Finally, the lights of the farm were near. In moments, the attack would begin. 

Then it happened. 

“GRUUU?” 

A sweet-smelling mist drifted over the field. One of the shield bearers at the front of the army was pulled into it, and a moment later, he reemerged, facing quite the other direction, and collapsed on the ground. The other shield bearers began to fall one by one. In the instant it took the startled goblin lord to blink, dark forms leaped from the shadows around the farm’s wall. 

Adventurers! This is magic! 

“GAAAUU!!” The lord gave a high screech. 

“GAUGARRR!!” A goblin shaman shouted something and waved his staff. A bolt of lightning shot out and struck an adventurer in the chest. But as the one adventurer fell, the others rapidly closed distance with the goblins and grabbed the meat shields. They ignored the enemy entirely, instead retreating as quickly as they had come. The shaman waved his staff again and chanted, hoping to hit one of the fleeing adventurers. 

“GAAA?!” 

An arrow made from a branch pierced his chest. His mouth worked open and closed for a moment, and then he fell faceup on the grass, dead. 

Thanks to their excellent night vision, the goblins soon located the source of the shot. 

Up in one of the trees on the farm—an elf. An elf was shooting at them! 

Goblin archers rushed to return fire from their short bows, but the elf only snorted and leaped into the brush. 

The adventurers carrying the meat shields made it over the wall, and in exchange, a group of their armed companions appeared. They kept low as they raced toward the goblins, accompanied by the clatter of their armor. 

“GORRRRR!!” 

The goblin lord hurriedly shouted at his troops to counterattack, but they were not quite conscious enough to obey him. The Stupor spell was working its magic on them, and one after another, they were struck down by arrows with the haze still in their minds. 

“So those are their ‘shields.’ Twisted creatures,” the elf said, disgust playing across her face. She dashed across the field, firing arrows like the wind. She could shoot as easily as she could breathe. She could have hit her targets with her eyes shut. Her arrows reaped goblins like a scythe through wheat. 

She had not actually killed that many of the foe. But she couldn’t go on forever. 

“I took out their spell caster!” 

“All right, you louts! Time to earn your pay!” 

“Ha-haaa! Lookit our gold marching right toward us!” 

The adventurers made contact with the enemy before the confused goblin army could reform itself. 

Now neither side could use spells that might catch their own allies in the effect—the adventurers naturally, but even the goblins had some sense of risk and reward. They had no qualms about using their companions as shields, but they had to be careful that the number of shields available didn’t get too low. And anyway, even when it came to using spells, goblins were still goblins. They were cowardly and cruel. 

Thus, the battle began. 

The ring of swordplay resounded. The smell of blood was everywhere upon the night-wrapped plain. Screams, wails, war cries. Amid the clamor, silhouettes—adventurers, goblins—could be seen vanishing one by one as the combatants fell. 

“Gods, there’re enough goblins here to put you off ’em for life!” Spearman roared with laughter as he knocked down foe after foe. 

As each monster tumbled to the ground, Lizard Priest leaped upon them and struck the finishing blow. “Indeed, even milord Goblin Slayer was at his wits’ end…” He made his palms-together gesture and drew his fang-sword. There were still many goblins to slay. 

“Not that, I mind, but for your own sake…stay within, my Deflect Missile spell, won’t you?” Witch stood nearby, staff in hand and letting off spell after spell, her generous chest heaving as she gulped in breath. 

Nearby, Dwarf Shaman had used Stupor as many times as he was able and had resorted to his sling. “Bury me, Beard-cutter was right that no one could handle this lot alone!” He fired a stone that traced a perfect line from his sling to a goblin’s head. “Goodness,” he said, “around here you hardly even need to ai— Wha—?!” 

Dwarf Shaman squinted. High Elf Archer noticed immediately and shouted, “What is it, dwarf?” 

“Riders, long-ears! Mounted goblins on the way!” 

Howls echoed across the moons-lit field. Goblins straddling huge gray wolves and swinging swords came cleaving through the darkness. 

“I’ll shoot them from here! Hold them off!” 

“Right! Spear wall, don’t let them through!” At Spearman’s orders, nearby adventurers stood shoulder to shoulder and thrust out their weapons. The wolves came on as if oblivious to the hail of arrows raining down on them. Adventurers gladly thrust their blades into the bellies of the beasts. 

There was a howl and cry, a piercing scream. 

“Errraggghh!” 

One adventurer had been worsted by a charging rider and found a wolf at their throat. Many of the animals, though, succumbed to the adventurers’ attacks, throwing the goblins from their backs. 

“Chaaaaaarge!” The lizardman led with a great bellow and flew to finish off the toppled riders. Warrior priest that he was, from time to time, he cried out shrilly in what might have been a prayer of the lizardmen. 

All in all, the adventurers were winning quite handily. 

In general, in a straight contest between an adventurer and a goblin, the adventurer will normally come out on top, so long as ill luck does not intervene. And what was more… 

Goblin Slayer said: “Set ambushes. They specialize in surprise attacks but never expect to be ambushed themselves.” 

He said: “Take a low stance. Aim for the legs. They’re small, but they can’t fly.” 

He said: “They will certainly have meat shields. Cast sleep spells, then use that moment to rescue the hostages.” 

He said: “Even if you think you can kill them while rescuing the shields, don’t. If they wake up, it will only be trouble.” 

He said: “Don’t use attack magic. Save your spells for other things.” 

He said: “Swords, spears, arrows, axes, any kind of weapon can be used to kill them. What you can’t do with a weapon, do with magic.” 

He said: “Take out their spell casters first.” 

He said: “Don’t let them get behind you. Always keep moving. Small movements with your weapon. Conserve your strength.” 

He said… 

The other adventurers were frankly astonished at the amount of knowledge Goblin Slayer imparted to them. 

Adventurers were not soldiers, but they were no strangers to strategy. Yet they were not used to taking such care against goblins. Experienced and fledgling adventurers alike saw goblins as insignificant foes. 

“Man! Not only do I get to make some serious cash; I get to impress my girl!” With these tactics in hand, goblins were simple to deal with so long as they could be forced into one-on-one battles. Spearman and the other warriors thrust their weapons left and right, everywhere finding a goblin to kill. 

Deep within the enemy ranks, however, they could see a vast form tower up, silhouetted against the moon. 

“There it is! A hob— Wait, is it?” 

“GURAURAURAURAURAUUUU!!” 

The great roar rolled across the bloodied battlefield. 

The creature was so large it could have been taken for an ogre. It held a club stained with blood and brains. A goblin champion. 

A goblin, yes, but one so powerful it could single-handedly turn the tide of battle. 

Far be it for any adventurer, though, to back down from a challenge just because it was twice their size and carried a big stick. 

“Ahhh, there’s the big one! I was getting tired of these small-fries!” The heavy warrior was the first to dive at the champion, with his weapon on his shoulder and a wild laugh on his lips. Rolling her eyes, Knight followed him, with her shield up. 

“Just when I was busy counting up how many goblin heads I’d collected,” she said. 

“Count ’em later! Fight now!” 

“You warriors have such one-track minds.” With this banter, they happily jumped into battle against the new foe. 

All over the field, weapons rang against one another, and blood spurted into the air. 

“And where is our fearless leader in all this?” Spearman asked, as he stopped to wipe the point of his spear on a wolf’s fur. His breath was growing ragged. 

Across the field, a new dark mass had appeared. 

Goblin reinforcements. There was no time to rest. He held his spear close and made ready. 

“Oh, I think, you know, the answer, to that,” Witch whispered in a honeyed voice, as she took a long draw on her pipe and slowly let out her breath. Sweet-smelling pink vapor floated on the wind, and every goblin who breathed it in found their senses dulled. In the distance, the reinforcements began to move more slowly as well. 

“Obviously,” High Elf Archer said with a laugh, firing at the stupefied foes. “He’s gone to slay goblins.” 

How could this have happened?! 

The goblin lord ran so quickly he was almost stumbling. As soon as he had realized there was no chance of victory, he had fled the battlefield. Behind him, he could hear weapons clanging, screams, the sound of spells reverberating. 

Some of those screams must have been adventurers. But most were goblins. 

This was supposed to be a surprise attack to establish a foothold in the area. And yet… 

It is we who take! So how did this happen?! 

His horde was lost. With his forces checked, there was no point in hanging around. 

As long as he survived, that was all that mattered. 

He would go back to the nest, use the captured women there to build up his ranks. 

Just like before. 

The goblin lord was a Wanderer, the lone survivor of a nest destroyed by adventurers. Now, he lived only to slay adventurers. 

It’s not so hard. 

His first victim had been the woman who had spared him “because he was just a child.” She had become food for him as soon as she turned her back. 

He had learned then that if you hit an adventurer hard enough on the head with a rock, they became quite pliant. When he found out a club was more effective still, he used that. Then, he had learned to use weapons and wear armor. From the way adventurers formed their parties, he gleaned the best ways to lead a horde. 

His long days of drifting had trained his body and mind until he was a match even for a human warrior. 

This would be the same. 

Beneath the two moons, the lord turned away from the battle and ran for his life. 

Through the grass, kicking up earth, toward the forest. Into the forest. There was a cave there. His nest. 

He had failed. But so long as he lived, there would be another chance. 

He would learn, and replenish his ranks, and the next time would be better. The next time— 

“I knew you would come here.” 

A calm, cold, almost mechanical voice caught him. Unthinkingly, the goblin lord stopped in his tracks. He readied the battle-ax he held in his hand. 

His eyes could pick out the figure standing before him in the dark. It was an adventurer in cheap leather armor and a steel helmet. A small shield bound to his left arm, and in his right hand, a sword almost too long to wield. He was spattered with blood from killing, standing in a nauseating puddle of it. 

“Fool. I see both of us used our armies as decoys.” 

The lord could speak the common tongue, though he despised it. He did not know who this adventurer was. But it was all too clear what had happened. 

“Your home is no more.” 

“ORGRRRRRR!!” 

The lord gave an earsplitting yell and leaped at Goblin Slayer. The lord brought his ax down in an arc, meaning to split the adventurer’s skull open, but Goblin Slayer blocked the blow with his shield. There was a noise of rending metal. 

Goblin Slayer gave a great shake of the shield and pushed the ax aside, then made a sharp thrust with his sword. 

“Hrm!” he muttered. 

The tip of his sword struck the lord in the chest but made only a dull thump. The goblin was wearing a chest plate. 

Goblin Slayer was unfazed but frozen for a second, and in that moment, the ax came at him from the side. 

An instant’s decision. He flung himself to the side, rolling to avoid the blow. He rose to one knee, panting. 

“…” 

Goblin Slayer stood and rolled his sword slowly in his hand, holding his shield before him. 

“GRRRR…” 

The lord made a sound of disgust and gripped his battle-ax with both hands. 

The gulf between them in strength and armament was immense. 

His wounds from before. The month of recuperating. He had needed that time to heal, and yet… 

Goblin Slayer was acutely aware that his skills had dulled. It would not be a problem, however. He would not let it be a problem. There was a goblin in front of him. That was all he needed. 

“…!” 

Goblin Slayer loosed himself like an arrow upon his foe. 

He moved in a low stance; with his left hand, he grabbed a fistful of grass, cut it free, and threw it at the goblin lord. 

In the second it took the lord to wave away the cloud of grass, Goblin Slayer thrust with his sword. 

Blood flying, a scream. 

“GARUARAARARAA?!” The lord swung his battle-ax in a frenzy, bleeding from the forehead. Before an observer could have clucked their tongue, a strike connected with Goblin Slayer. 

He felt himself floating through the air—and then landing painfully on the ground. 

“Oof! Agh…” The hard earth met his back, forcing the air from his lungs. He saw his shield had been split nearly in half. 

His skills may have rusted, but his muscles still remembered their part. The shield he had instinctively raised had saved his life again. 

“They’re no good at frontal attacks…,” he muttered, rising, supporting himself on his sword. 

“GAROOOO!!” 

The goblin lord was not going to miss his chance. He came charging through the grass. 

Goblin Slayer gave a small nod. He held his sword high, raised his battered shield, and faced the lord head-on. 

An instant later, he was dashing at the enemy. 

The goblin lord’s battle-ax came whistling through the air. Goblin Slayer held up his shield to meet it and thrust with his sword. 

Impact. 

The ax split the shield in two and bit deep into Goblin Slayer’s arm. The adventurer went flying once more. 

But in the same moment, his sword had sliced into the goblin’s belly, which now gushed blood onto the dark field. 

“GAU…” 

But the wound was hardly fatal. The lord frowned angrily. 

“Ugh, hrk…?!” Goblin Slayer scrambled to get up out of the dirt. But he couldn’t stand. He tried to use his sword to heft himself up, but it was broken. 

“GURRR…” The goblin sounded almost bored. At least he would have his revenge for his fallen troops. He would cut off this man’s hands and feet, tie him to a post, and torture him to death. As he envisioned this grim future, the goblin lord began to cackle, then stalked slowly toward his prey. 

He gave a vicious kick to Goblin Slayer’s motionless helmet. 

Silence. 

The lord was not pleased. Prey were supposed to cower at the moment of death. 

But so be it. 

Death would put an end to this. To everything. Perhaps tonight he would have to be content with that. 

The goblin lord raised his battle-ax slowly. 

Crack. 

The next second, the ax was thrown backward. 

“GAU…?” 

Had he hit a tree root or something? The lord looked back in frustration, but there was nothing there. The nearest trees stood some distance away. 

“GA, RRR…?!” 

This time as he attempted to bring his weapon down, the lord found the ax would not move at all. No—it was his own body that was not answering his commands. His bones creaked like something was pushing against him. Like he was trapped between two invisible walls. 

“GA, GAO…?!” 

The lord’s eyes swept back and forth; he could not even fidget. 

What was…? What was going on…?! 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, by the power of the land grant safety to we who are weak…” 

The answer to his question came in the form of a miraculously clear voice intoning a prayer. 

A beautiful young woman walked out of the nearby copse. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and in her trembling hands was a sounding staff. 

A young priestess praying fervently to the Earth Mother. 

This is her doing! 

“GAAAAUUAUAUAUAUAAA!!” 

The goblin lord howled every vile threat he knew at her. He would tear off her limbs and make her eat them! No, he would pound a spike so far up her ass it came out her mouth! He would break her fingers into tiny pieces one by one, burn her face until no one could recognize her… 

She looked so frail. Surely a bit of intimidation was all it would take to scare her off… 

“…!” 

But he was wrong. 

Face pale, biting her lip, Priestess still held out her quaking staff. 

The lord began to worry. 

“GA…RO…?” 

Perhaps this girl was not quite what she seemed. 

A change of tactics, then. The lord put on his most pitiful expression and begged for forgiveness. He would never do such a thing again. He had been wrong, so wrong. He would go and live quietly in the woods, never see a human village again. Please forgive him. Please. 

He babbled on in his pathetic version of the common tongue. Had it been possible, he might have thrown himself at her feet. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he had convinced an adventurer to spare his life through a show of repentance. 

The first time was long before he had become a lord—in fact, he had still been a child. Come to think of it, that adventurer had been a woman, too. “All right,” she had said, “but you must never do this sort of thing again.” He had agreed eagerly. And then, of course, murdered her as soon as she turned around. 

He took a black joy from his memory of that woman begging for help as he stabbed her to death. She had thought she was strong. 

If he could live now, there would yet be time to plot his revenge. 

And first of all, I will take this girl! 

“As if I would ever let you.” A cold voice rang out, bit into him. 

“GA, RR…?!” 

The voice sent ice through his veins like a wind from the bowels of the earth. 

Goblin Slayer came slowly to his feet. 

His left arm dribbled blood. In his left hand, he held his cloven shield. In his right, his broken sword. 

He strode boldly toward the goblin lord. He pushed his sword into the side of the paralyzed goblin’s neck. 

“GA…GO…?!” 

The broken weapon could not cut or pierce. 

But it could crush. The creature gibbered nonsensically as the blade pressed on his windpipe. 

“A lord? Ridiculous.” The lord tried desperately to struggle. 

“You’re a goblin.” 

The goblin opened his mouth, fighting for air. 

“Just a filthy…” 

But he could do nothing. 

“…worthless goblin.” 

The lord’s face changed color, and his tongue lolled out. Spittle foamed at the edge of his mouth; his eyes rolled upward in his head. 

“And I…” 

As the lord felt consciousness slipping away, a question rose in his vanishing mind. 

What? What are you? 

“…am Goblin Slayer!” 

The creature’s eyes remained rolled at the back of his head. The goblin who would be king spasmed once, twice, and died. There was a long silence. 

“That’s one…goblin head…” 

Goblin Slayer’s sword dropped from his hand even as the words fell from his lips. Then he slumped forward as though his strings had been cut. 

Priestess tossed her staff aside, rushed forward, and caught him. “Goblin Slayer, sir!” He was so heavy in her thin arms, covered in leather and metal and mud and blood. 

A moment later, the Protection miracle faded, and the goblin lord’s body collapsed next to Goblin Slayer’s. Priestess did not glance at it but looked over Goblin Slayer’s wounds. There was a deep gash in his left arm. In the worst case, it might go all the way down to the bone. 

“Please…don’t do these foolish things…” 

“…Urgh…” 

She put his groan out of mind as she pressed her palms to his wound, ignoring the blood that stained her hands. 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, lay your revered hand upon your child’s wounds…” 

The prayer was soul-effacing, intent, and heartfelt. 

What happened on that first adventure…? I never want it to happen again… 

The Earth Mother graciously heard her supplication and touched Goblin Slayer’s arm with her shining finger. This was how Priestess used her remaining miracle. 

He had told her that he would distract the goblin lord while she used Protection. 

She was no longer disturbed by the thought of using two Protection miracles in tandem, not to guard her target, but to trap it. But she had not added the third Protection miracle as he had instructed. 

Perhaps it was a revelation that kept her from exhausting her miracles. For if she had, the life of this man—this strange, stubborn, serious man—would have ended here. 

“…Grief. I told you already…” 

“Goblin Slayer, sir!” 

To the rough voice that reached up to her, she answered with tears in her eyes. 

“…Foolishness isn’t what wins battles.” 

Goblin Slayer sat up painfully. Priestess helped him as best she could, wedging herself under his arm. He had been almost too heavy to hold. Now she tried to help lift him to his feet. Struggling to grasp him with her willowy, beautiful arms, Priestess supported him on her shoulder and stood. 

“You may…say that…” 

“…” 

“…But I think…you need to be more careful…!” 

“I do?” 

She was silent. 

“…I’m sorry.” 

Sniffling, sobbing, Priestess shook her head vehemently. 

Step by tearstained step, she began walking slowly, certainly forward. 

Taking care to take as much of his weight off her as he could, Goblin Slayer said calmly, “It was because I trust you.” 

Priestess smiled through the tears that ran down her cheeks. “…You really are hopeless, aren’t you?” 

She thought of her companions who had died on their first adventure together. She thought of the adventurers who were bleeding and dying even now. She thought of the goblins that had been killed. She thought of the goblin lord who had died before her eyes. 

As all these things spun in her mind, she became aware of the weight of the man leaning on her. It was all she could do to hold him up with her exhausted body. 

She advanced one laborious step at a time, barely moving. The sounds of battle were far away, and the lights of the city farther still. 

But with every step, her heart was glad.