Goblin Slayer - Volume 2 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – Whispers And Prayers And Chants

When he awoke, he was once more confronted with a world of white. 

He was lying on a soft bed with clean sheets. The room was pleasantly warm, and the ceiling far away. Between the white stone pillars that lined the room was a bracing blue sky. Sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees in the garden and settled on his eyes. 

“…Hmm.” 

Goblin Slayer sat up slowly. His head felt light, his vision wide. He turned his head two times, three. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. It must have been removed at some point. His other equipment and his clothes were gone. 

Where was he? It must have been a room in the water town Temple. 

At least it wasn’t that nest of filthy goblins underground. That meant he could probably assume the others had escaped safely as well. 

“…” 

Having confirmed this to himself, he gave a little nod. It was entirely unlike him to lose consciousness from his wounds. 

But he was alive, and that meant there would be a next time. If he won in the end, that would be enough. There would be no problem. 

Still…such a familiar dream… 

His master had taken him on at ten years old, and they had parted ways when he was fifteen. All that had happened more than five years ago. He couldn’t imagine the cunning old rhea had died. What was he up to now? 

One morning the master had simply said, “I’m going on a journey,” and blinked out of sight, and that had been the end of it. 

“…Now.” 

Having taken stock of his surroundings, he gingerly stretched out his right arm. 

The bones he’d thought were shattered had knitted together again; it seemed as good as new. Starting with his thumb, he curled his fingers inward one by one, checking the joints. He made a fist, then opened it. 

He repeated the process with his left arm. Nothing hurt; nothing failed to work as expected. Even for a healing miracle, this was impressive. 

“……Hmm.” 

Ribs next, then. But when he reached down to check them, he felt something strange at his waist. 

He looked down to see a young woman, wearing nothing but her skin. 

“Er…hmm.” 

Priestess’s face was innocent in sleep. Those elegant arms, so slim they looked like they might break at any moment, were wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. 

“……” 

Goblin Slayer let out a breath. 

She was slender, as delicate as if she were made of glass. Yet he could, he supposed, imagine how she had become an adventurer. 

With great care, he rolled back the sheets, just far enough to check her neck and shoulder. The skin there seemed even whiter than usual for her, but there was no sign of a wound. 

“Nn…oh.” 

She shifted slightly. Her face was peaceful. 

Goblin Slayer rolled the sheets up again. 

“………” 

He must have been a pretty poor student. It had been five years since he and his master had gone their separate ways, and he still hadn’t managed to kill all the goblins. 

And now look at him. 

His personal failure no longer affected only him. There were five people in his party, including himself. A low moan escaped him. 

“He never taught me about this…” 

“Oh-ho, you’re awake.” The rich voice came unexpectedly. 

How long had she been there—the pale woman standing beside the bed? She was clad only in some cloth through which she was clearly visible; seeing her beauty, one could have mistaken her for a living statue of a goddess. 

“And? How was it?” Sword Maiden whispered with those full lips, putting one hand on the bed and leaning toward him. She wore a garment cut from a single cloth; in her hand was the sword-and-scales staff. She was the saint who ruled over law. “Sharing a pillow with me…and her?” 

“It wasn’t bad.” He nodded at her. She put her hand on his cheek. Her fingers were cold. 

Goblin Slayer’s voice was as dispassionate as ever. 

“So this is the miracle Resurrection…achieved by sharing a bed with a virgin.” 

“My, you’ve heard of it?” 

“Secondhand.” 

Sword Maiden gave a pouty look and drew back as if disappointed. 

Resurrection: a healing miracle that surpassed Minor Heal and Refresh. It could give warmth to a champion of old, tormented by the cold, or it could cool the temper of a raging hero. When the barbarian king had been gravely wounded, it protected him from the spirits of death. 

And it came of sharing a bed with one of the immaculate maidens who served the gods. Or so said many tales of old. 

But they were not just tales. They were true. If a maiden who served the gods would pray with her whole being, then the gods would hear her supplication. 

Naturally, of course, this did not mean that one could be brought back from the dead. It was simply not within human power to contravene the laws of nature. If one were not among the brave few chosen by the gods, one would simply turn to dust or one’s soul would vanish. Even the necromancers with all their knowledge could not truly bring someone back from the dead. 

Resurrection, rather, was a miracle for those who were on the border between life and death, pulling them back to this side of the veil. 

Few adventurers ever had the chance to benefit from it, though, for three simple, obvious reasons. 

First, as the miracle had to be performed within the confines of a temple, it was all but impossible to use while on an adventure. Second, adventurers’ reputation for rowdiness led many who could perform the miracle to avoid them, lest they be taken for harlots. And finally, hefty compensation was typically expected for this miracle. 

It was true divine intervention, a miracle not possible for a priestess of Obsidian rank to perform alone. In light of all this, few besides Sword Maiden had likely ever offered this supplication to the gods. 

Perhaps she noticed Goblin Slayer’s look, for a soft laugh escaped her. 

“I understand that taking my compensation out of your wages would be typical for an adventurer.” 

“I was under the impression that this was not a typical adventure.” 

“You never do cease to surprise me. Aren’t you Silver? The third rank?” 

“…Mm.” 

For the moment, Goblin Slayer had nothing to say in response. He had been told to “act his rank” more times than he cared to remember. 

Sword Maiden nodded in satisfaction at the sight of him dumbstruck, then let out a little giggle. 

“I don’t suppose I could be considered immaculate anymore…” 

The archbishop with her smiling eyes sounded almost like she was talking about someone else. 

The usual strip of black cloth covering her eyes was gone, and Goblin Slayer could see them for the first time. They seemed somehow distant, as though they weren’t quite focused. It was the one imperfection in this otherwise flawless creature who served her god so devoutly. 

Her beauty had been disfigured in an especially cruel way. 

“Goblins?” 

“Yes.” Sword Maiden nodded, without seeming terribly bothered by the answer. “It should be ten years ago now. I was an adventurer, then, too…” 

Finally her eyes moved, casting a sidelong glance at Goblin Slayer. 

“You want to hear what they did to me, in their cave, when they caught me?” 

“I already know,” Goblin Slayer said shortly. 

She let a chuckle slip out in response. “I cried out that it hurt. I wept like a little girl.” 

She put one thin, pale arm with its scars on her generous hip, ran her slim fingers along it as if to make a point. 

“But,” she said. Her full lips gave way to the whisper of an innocent girl. “I can see. Only dimly, but I can see you there, like a shadow.” 

Her hand came off her hip and moved slowly, searchingly. The porcelain-like fingers traced his outline in the air. 

“I see them everywhere. But I always feel that if I look away for even a moment, they’ll just disappear…” 

“…” 

“…like people are no more than shadows.” 

Goblin Slayer remained silent. 

He looked around for his gear. He saw his helmet and armor, along with his sword, shield, and item bag, all piled at the end of the bed. They were grimy with blood and dirt, as they always were, but he noticed his armor was badly damaged. He had patched it up just before coming on this adventure, but now it looked like he would need to replace it entirely. 

“I want to repair my equipment. Is there a workshop or an equipment shop nearby?” 

Sword Maiden didn’t answer. With her blind eyes, she stared at a person who seemed to her a shadow. 

“People…women…are so weak.” 

The soft bed gave a faint creak. Sword Maiden slid down to lie at Goblin Slayer’s side. Her ample chest shook. 

“When I think of that, and then I think of the vastness of the evil in this world, I start to fear we shall be overpowered…” He felt her soft, full flesh. Her warmth. “…I am anxious. I am afraid. It must seem strange.” 

Was that roses he smelled? Faintly sweet, fragrant. 

“Sword Maiden I may be, but every, every night I am fearful. I am terrified. I cannot stand it!” 

With that, she clawed at her shoulders, her chest. The cloth tore, exposing her scarred body. It would hardly have been surprising if a man in such a position had lost all reason. 

This was Sword Maiden. 

The woman who had done battle with the Demon Gods and saved the world ten years ago. 

To think she was as beautiful as this even after the goblins had burned her eyes—if she had looked at any man with tears in her eyes, who could have resisted her? 

“This is the world we live in. No matter how much help you have…” 

“…” 

“I don’t suppose I can expect anyone else to understand, can I?” 

“Is that so?” 

Such was Goblin Slayer’s brief reply, as dispassionate as ever. 

“‘Is that so?’ he says. Hee-hee.” 

The archbishop gave a disappointed, slightly incredulous laugh. 

“Is something…strange?” 

“Don’t you think so? I am the woman who defeated the Demon Gods. And here I am, afraid of some goblins.” With that, she drew back, righting her vestment. 

She took her staff in hand and covered her eyes with a black cloth. When she stood once more, sure and steady, all hint of the seductress from before had gone. 

“You.” Her hidden eyes turned beseechingly toward Goblin Slayer. “Will you help me?” 

He didn’t say anything. Or rather, he couldn’t say anything. 

For when he opened his mouth to answer, she disappeared into the shadow of a pillar. He heard her shuffling footsteps grow more and more distant. A moment later came the sound of a heavy door opening and closing. 

Goblin Slayer heaved a sigh. 

He delicately extricated himself from Priestess’s slim arms and got out of the bed. As he stretched to relax his stiff muscles, her eyes fluttered open. 

“Hrrm… Oh… Huh?” 

She sat up languidly, rubbing her eyes. She glanced around vacantly, but when her eyes came into focus, her face instantly turned bright red. 

“Oh! Uh! Oh… Uhh…” In a flurry, she pulled up the sheets to hide her bare chest. 

Goblin Slayer took his own clothes in hand, not sparing her so much as a glance. 

“Did you see anything?” 

“Yes.” 

Priestess’s face crumpled pitifully. 

Confronted with a girl who seemed about to burst into tears, Goblin Slayer thought for a moment before opening his mouth. 

“Calm down.” 

Her shoulders gave a little jerk. 

“Your wounds are gone.” 

Now Priestess looked down, confused. 

Unsure of what to say, Goblin Slayer silently got dressed. 

First his underwear, then his under armor, then his chain mail. Thankfully, it hadn’t been damaged. 

The leather armor, however, was beyond help. Not that he was that attached to it. But it would take time to break in a new set, and that was a problem. 

“Are…are your injuries better, too…?” 

Priestess seemed to have finally collected herself. She rose from the bed, too, still clutching the sheets against her front. 

“Yes.” He nodded. 

Standing back-to-back with Goblin Slayer, Priestess began to dress. Simple undergarments covered her bottom and small chest, and a singlet went over them. She took a regretful look at her chain mail, which was missing a large chunk at the shoulder, then put on her vestments. They were simple, reflecting the devotion to poverty that adherents of the Earth Mother all voluntarily bore, but every tear in them had been neatly repaired. 

She also wore no makeup of any kind. Compared to Goblin Slayer with his heavy equipment, it took her only moments to get dressed. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir…” 

“What?” 

He turned at the hesitant voice. While her clothes had been rustling, he had put on leggings and greaves. Goblins were short, and protection for the legs couldn’t be overlooked. 

“You didn’t do something…rash…or…or anything, did you?” 

“What makes you think I did?” 

“You seem…different somehow.” 

At that, his hand stopped moving, just for a second. 

“……No,” he said decisively, after a moment’s silence. 

He took up his helmet, which had a few new dents in it, and slid it firmly over his head. He breathed in and let it out. 

“Nothing’s different at all.” 

He could feel Priestess’s eyes boring into his back, as if about to say something, but Goblin Slayer stood. 

He had to get new weapons, new equipment, provisions, medicine, and much else. The most important thing in goblin slaying was preparation. 

“Um, Goblin Slayer, sir…?” 

“What?” 

It was just as he turned slowly toward the thin voice. 

“There you are!” 

The heavy door was kicked open with a slam that spoke to the powerful emotions of the person entering the room. 

“I heard you two were up! How are you? Are you all right?” 

The owner of the refreshing, cool voice came bounding in. It was, of course, High Elf Archer. 

With her hair flying behind her and her long ears bouncing, she was the very picture of joy. Smiling like a child, she was followed by Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest, neither of whom showed quite her enthusiasm. 

“Looks like you’re none the worse for wear, Beard-cutter and young lady.” 

“Ahh, that is the important thing. It seems the spell was performed in time.” 

Everyone smiled, their voices cheerful. 

With a low grunt, Goblin Slayer looked each of them in the face and nodded. “All of you are all right?” 

“You’re asking us, Orcbolg?” 

“What about the canary?” 

“Fine, too! Orcbolg, I think you were in more danger than any of us.” High Elf Archer pursed her lips and jumped lightly onto the bed, sinking into it. “What a bed! You know she was like, ‘Goblin Slayer, sir?!’ the minute she came to? All weepy and everything!” 

“Wh-wh-wha—?! You promised you wouldn’t—!” 

Priestess turned red afresh at High Elf Archer’s teasing, shaking her arms vigorously in protest. 

High Elf Archer barely noticed. “If I didn’t tell him, how would he know?” 

Lizard Priest happily lapped at the tip of his nose with his tongue. 

“Well, be that as it may, now there is nothing to keep us from resuming our exploration.” 

There were, among other matters, the goblins who had escaped them the last time. Goblin Slayer nodded, and his battered helmet creaked slightly. 

“Hmm,” Lizard Priest breathed and rolled his eyes. “Or perhaps we ought first to attend to our equipment…” 

“What’s wrong with you, Scaly? First, we have a meal! My stomach is eating itself!” 

“Ah, what was I thinking?” Lizard Priest slapped his forehead in mock dismay at Dwarf Shaman’s teasing. 

Priestess giggled at the comical gesture, causing High Elf Archer to narrow her eyes like a cat. 

“You might be hungry, dwarf, but if you don’t lose a little weight, I think your belt is going to burst!” 

“Say what you will, my anvil-chested friend, but I’m known as quite the bon vivant!” 

“What did you call me?” High Elf Archer’s ears flattened, and the two proceeded in one of their boisterous arguments. 

Goblin Slayer watched the familiar scene intently. He looked like a traveler who had seen a ghost and was trying to tell whether what he saw now was real. 

“…Has no one eaten yet?” 

It had taken him a moment to come up with the question, and it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. 

“Not yet,” Priestess answered. “Partly because I did have to help with the Resurrection.” 

“Why?” 

“We had a promise, didn’t we?” 

He didn’t seem to grasp her meaning. 

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she continued, “When we got through this, we would all have a meal together.” 

“Hrm…” 

“And you have to keep your promises, right?” 

Then she smiled, like a blooming flower in the sun.