Goblin Slayer - Volume 7 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – Cleanse The Blood

With a quiet groan, the elevator ferried the adventurers up, up, up.

Unsure of whether they were moving slowly or quickly, the party found itself assailed by a feeling of being pressed into the floor. They fit wherever they could in the small box, standing with equipment at the ready and nervous looks on their faces. There was no guarantee that the goblins would not launch a sneak attack right here in the elevator.

“Hr…?” High Elf Archer suddenly started making worried little noises, “Hmm?” and “Hmm?”, and put a hand to her ear. It flicked restlessly, and an uneasy look came over her face.

“…What’s this? Heard some goblin footsteps?” Dwarf Shaman asked. “Hrn, no… Ahh, arrgh…!” She didn’t even snap back at him, but kept flicking her ears in irritation.

“Swallow,” Goblin Slayer said, not looking up from his inspection of his item pouch in one corner of the elevator.

High Elf Archer gave him a puzzled look. “Say what?” “It will relieve your ears.”

Could he be right? High Elf Archer was doubtful, but she nodded and tried it.

“…Huh, it’s true.” She smiled and flicked her ears, now pressure-free, up and down.

Priestess, watching, swallowed, too, then blinked in surprise. “Wow. That really helps.”

“This fortress did appear to be quite tall,” Lizard Priest said, placing a hand on the wall of the elevator as if checking its position. It was hardly enough to make their place in the building obvious, but if they were feeling discomfort in their ears, that told them something on its own.

“It is evidence that we are ascending safely,” he said, “and that is well and good.”

“But—” Priestess put one slim finger to her lips. “What if it just stops…?”

“Then we open the doors and climb to one of the cross passages,” Goblin Slayer said firmly. They were much higher than they had been before; it shouldn’t be so hard now.

Priestess and High Elf Archer exchanged a glance at this characteristically unhesitating answer and smiled.

“I need to borrow your rope.”

“Oh, here,” Priestess said, nodding and handing the rope to him. “I feel like the Adventurer’s Toolkit has been a star player for us this time around.”

“They aren’t kidding when they say to never leave home without it,” Dwarf Shaman chuckled; Priestess smiled and nodded. “Uh-huh!”

And with that, conversation ceased. The whir of the elevator echoed, mingling with the rush of water from far below their feet. For a long moment, nobody spoke, but each imagined what they would soon have to face.

“…I’m sorry.” The short, quiet words seemed to spill over from High Elf Archer. She shifted as she felt the party’s gaze light upon her. “And, thank you. I mean…all of you.”

She blushed slightly, smiled shyly. Perhaps she was embarrassed to thank them to their faces like this.

“I invited you here for my sister’s wedding, and… Well, now this.”

“Ahh, what of it?” Dwarf Shaman replied without a moment’s pause. He dug pointedly through his bag of catalysts, not looking at High Elf Archer as he spoke. “I think I like havin’ the elves in my debt. Besides, we’re… You know.” He gave a tug of his beard then finally managed to come up with the word. “Friends.”

“Oh…”

Lizard Priest chuckled quietly when he saw High Elf Archer’s eyes widen; he nodded somberly. “We always rely much on you, mistress ranger.” He rolled his eyes in a gesture dripping with humor. “Surely, this is the least we can do.”

“And, uh,” Priestess clapped her hands quietly, a soft smile coming over her face. “Goblin Slayer would have jumped at this quest anyway, from the moment he heard the word goblins.”

“Hrm?” the armored adventurer grunted, but Priestess turned a carefree smile on him and asked, “Am I wrong?”

“…No,” he said, slowly shaking his cheap-looking helmet. “We must kill all the goblins.”

“…Gods,” High Elf Archer said, her shoulders slumping as she let out a breath. A smile crept onto her face. “It’s just been a year or so. Who knew you could get so close so fast?”

“Well, see if you’re still thinkin’ about us in a hundred years.”

“Silly dwarf,” High Elf Archer giggled. She stuck out one long, slim finger, drawing a circle in the air. “Of course I won’t forget you.”

Right. She gave herself an invigorating smack on both cheeks. Then she took up her bow, checking the string; she pulled a bud-tipped arrow from her quiver and set it. She looked up at the ceiling, and with a flick of her ears, her face became serious. “I hear wind. Footsteps. Chattering. Probably either the roof or a passageway. There’s a lot of them.”

“I would like to simply cut them down.” Goblin Slayer drew his sword, rotating his wrist slowly before assuming a fighting posture. “What do you think?”

“I think it may be time for what you might call a classical maneuver,” Lizard Priest said with a wink. Then he nodded and offered a strategy. “I have a suggestion. Milord Goblin Slayer, you shall be at the front, with master spell caster and myself on the flanks. Our lady Priestess shall stand behind mistress ranger.”

“R-right!”

The tail of the formation.

Goblins from behind. Ripping and tearing. Gibbering, striking. A dagger buried in her gut.

“…!” Priestess shook her head vigorously to clear away the images that flashed through her mind.

“That position is the safest from enemy attack, so you’ve no need to worry.” Lizard Priest nodded at Priestess, who was biting her lip nervously.

“So all I have to do is keep an eye out and provide support, right?” High Elf Archer said.

“‘All’? It is most crucial.”

“Yeah, I get it,” she replied, puffing out her chest.

“Sheesh. You remember I’m a magic user, don’t you?” Dwarf Shaman grumbled as he shifted his bag of catalysts squarely onto his shoulders and drew out his hand ax. As a spell caster, he didn’t wear much in the way of armor, yet he still had a certain air of a warrior ready for battle.

Goblin Slayer’s helmet turned briefly in his direction, and he murmured,

“But we are counting on you.”

“Y’damn well are. I’ll show you what dwarf men are made of.”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! We of the lizard tribe are all warriors anyway.” As the men bantered, the women shared a roll of their eyes.

Finally, the elevator came to a stop with a crash.

“Are you up to this?” From behind the metal visor, Priestess could feel a pair of eyes settle on her.

Being vigilant and being nervous were different things. Just like warming up and having blood rush to your head.

She took a long breath in then let it out slowly. She put a hand to her chest. Another deep breath.

“…I’m all right. I can do this.”

“When the doors open, we run. Get ready,” Goblin Slayer said brusquely. He faced forward. He didn’t have to see his companions to know they were all nodding.

“What about spell casters?” High Elf Archer whispered, checking the state of her bowstring. “They must have some.”

“If we spot any, we will prioritize them,” Goblin Slayer said. “That’s all we can do.”

“I hate fighting spell casters,” Dwarf Shaman added. “As ironic as that sounds.”

“They may use spells that inflict status ailments, but so long as even one of us is still safe, that person can bring the party back,” Goblin Slayer said calmly. “So long as we are not all destroyed, we have a wide range of options.”

“And if we are all destroyed…” Priestess’s voice shook, and the metal face turned toward her.

“Don’t.”

As a command, it was impossible, and Priestess looked at him in surprise. But then she gave a small smile, even laughed. Even if she had to force herself a little bit.

“…Well, if you say so. I’ll do my best not to let us all die.” “Good.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “Don’t use spells. Miracles only.” “Mm.”

“Yes, sir!”

The two clerics nodded their assent, then each prayed to their own gods in their own ways, asking for miracles.

“O sickle wings of Velociraptor, rip and tear, fly and hunt.”

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

Finally, the doors opened… “Go!”

They started running.

§

The goblin shaman looked out over his sleepy-eyed subordinates and nodded in satisfaction.

Each and every one of them wore glittering chest plates or held spears or swords.

This shaman was the recipient of tremendous good fortune. By sheer chance, he had been granted magic, then had risen to control a horde, and had even come into possession of a fortress. Through magic, he had befuddled the mind of the dragon (that it didn’t fall asleep was unexpected) and set it loose upon the elves.

He was perfectly confident that all this had been the result of his own blindingly brilliant abilities, but in reality it had been largely luck.

“GORBB! GOBROBBRBOGB!!”

How he loved to see his stupid, idiotic brethren bowing and scraping before him. His superiority was born of his constant sermons proclaiming that he would lead them all to a new heaven and a new earth. At that moment, it was as if he could feel even the river raging far below.

“GORROB! GOROOROOB!”

In the pale darkness before dawn, the far side of the horizon was turning a light purple. The damp, warm wind from the trees felt very good to the goblins.

“GBBORB!!”

All was in readiness, the goblin shaman howled. They would show those condescending, high-and-mighty bug-eaters, he proclaimed. He was oblivious to the rather bug-sized concerns of his own speech.

“GORB!”

“GBBRO!!”

Yes, yes! the ignorant masses shouted. The goblin shaman looked out over them and raised the staff he held. It was his favorite staff, topped with the skull of an adventurer he’d killed. That girl had possessed such a fine skull.

“GOOBRGGOG!”

The curse he had come up with (he was sure he had come up with it; he never questioned his inspiration) was complete. Let the elves, and the humans downstream, drink the blood and feces of their own companions. Let them eat the merchants and the hunters and the adventurers. That would show them.

The goblin shaman was perfectly confident his curse had worked. That was why he now exhorted his goblins to strike down the elves, to rape and kill and destroy.

If it didn’t work, it didn’t work—and it would be the fault of his idiotic followers, who were too stupid to carry out his plans. If he didn’t have to suffer under incompetent help, things would go very well indeed.

A goblin never forgets an injury done.

Certainly not by the elves, who for generations had mocked the goblins. Nor by Sword Maiden, who a decade before had ranged herself against the Dark Gods.

The goblins forgot everything they might themselves have done to earn resentment; they only hated.

Not just things that had been done to them, either, but even things they had only heard about.

That was why the shaman was resolved. He would trample the elves, torture them, get their beautiful princess with his child in front of the decapitated head of her husband.

Then they would pillage the water town, burn it to the ground, and he would slam himself into Sword Maiden until she couldn’t stand up again.

Such was his wish, his fantasy, yet it was nothing more than the effluent of his greed.

But what did goblins have except their avarice? Hatred, self-preservation, and what else?

A goblin shaman was still a goblin. “GOROBOOGOBOR!!”

He raised his staff and bellowed. Now! Pour forth!

The blessing of his war cry was interrupted by a gentle bong that seemed out of place.

What was that?

A second later, the doors sunk in the walls, the ones that had never opened, slid apart…

“Start with…one!”

§

The first thing Goblin Slayer did as he came charging in was to strike a goblin with his shield.

It seemed like there were at least a hundred goblins on the circular roof. Maybe that was just an illusion. But several dozen, at least. And the adventurers flew like arrows into the middle of them.

“GOROB?!”

He struck one uncomprehending goblin as it stood gibbering, then he slid to the left, slamming his sword into the throat of an approaching monster.

“GOROBOOBGR?!” The creature thrashed and hacked before drowning in his own blood.

Goblin Slayer pulled his sword back and gave the fresh corpse a kick. Then he swung around and launched the sword at a goblin belatedly trying to ready a sling behind him.

“GROOB?!”

“Two.”

He didn’t spare another glance at the toppled goblin but reached out for the corpse he had kicked away. He picked up a hatchet, gave it a swing. Not bad.

“O great sheep who walked the Cretaceous, grant to us a modicum of your long-sung success in battle!”

To Goblin Slayer’s left, Lizard Priest howled like a bird of prey and swung the Swordclaw he held with both hands. Claw, claw, fang, tail. He grabbed the goblin that Goblin Slayer had slammed with his shield. With so many enemies, there was no time to think, and Lizard Priest trusted to his warrior’s instincts, crying out like an animal.

“Eeeeeeahhhhh!!”

“Here I am, thinking if I ever see another goblin it’ll be too soon,” Dwarf Shaman muttered from the right flank, “and Scaly sounds like he’s having the time of his life.” Even so, he was able to wield his ax with effective, well- judged strikes.

Although by his own admission he was not a soldier first, he had a little bit of breathing room. Goblin Slayer and his sword had already cleared away some of the opposing forces. What was more, the divine protection granted by Priestess’s prayer safeguarded them from the goblins’ attacks. Dwarf Shaman, not a front row specialist, was immensely grateful for that.

“Over there!” called High Elf Archer from beside the dwarf as he stood, feet firmly planted to swing his ax. She loosed three arrows, skewering three enemies, her ears moving all the while in search of more.

As for what she had just seen: one particular goblin huddling deep within the horde.

“He’s got a staff! And it doesn’t look good!”

“A shaman?” Goblin Slayer buried the hatchet in the brains of his sixth goblin. He let go of the weapon, which fell to the ground along with the corpse, and drew a sword from the slain enemy’s belt. He used the momentum to hack off the head of another nearby goblin.

“Seven. Can you hit him?”

“It won’t be easy!” High Elf Archer said, yet she was already putting an arrow to her bow. “But I’ll try!”

Priestess, running hard behind, watched the entire scene with a sense of unreality.

The enemy were so many, and they, the adventurers, were so few. The last time she had confronted such a vast horde was—

Never.

Priestess, standing behind the others and breathing as deeply as she could, was startled by the realization.

The goblins pressed in before her. Memory struck her like a bolt of lightning.

The fight with the goblin lord. That time, she had worked with Goblin Slayer to defeat the enemy leader.

During the harvest festival attack, the goblins had split up, so no one engagement had been very large.

The frozen fortress had been a fighting withdrawal. They hadn’t tried to cut their way through the mass.

Now they were flying into the heart of the horde. The sound of weapons rang around her. Screams. Death rattles. The stink of blood and guts.

We’re gonna get rid of some goblins! Run! Hurry!

…ill…e…

The scream seemed to echo in her memory until it filled her mind completely. Priestess could hear her own teeth chattering. She had done this so many times already, so why did her feet stop now? Why did her breath catch?

“Ergh… Ah…!”

A pebble flew past, grazing her cheek. She felt heat and pain lance along the side of her face. There was a sticky feeling of blood welling up.

She stopped praying, and the effect of Protection began to fade. “…!”

She suddenly noticed a warm, damp feeling between her legs, and she bit her lip.

Why did she have to be last in line? What did they want from her?

She knew now; she was too experienced not to.

She clasped her sounding staff in desperate fingers, raised it up, and cried out her supplication to the gods in heaven.

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness!!”

There was a veritable explosion of sunlight. “GOBOGBO?!”

“GOOBR?! GOBOGR?!”

The goblins screamed and thrashed as the Earth Mother’s sacred light blazed upon their hideous faces. Some of them tumbled from the roof as they covered their faces and tried to run, while others expired, trampled under the feet of their comrades.

Priestess caught her breath at the piteous scene but continued to offer up Holy Light with all the strength she could muster. It illuminated the adventurers from behind so that they suffered no ill effects from it.

“Yes—you’re mine…!” “GOBBRG?!”

An arrow flew, guided by High Elf Archer’s unsurpassed skill. It wove through the horde like a living thing, lodging itself in the goblin shaman’s shoulder.

“GORBBBR…!!”

At almost the same instant, a spell billowed from the staff the shaman had been hiding behind his soldiers.

“ODUUUAAARUKKKKUPIRUUUUS!!”

A cloud of sweet-smelling, light-purple smoke roiled up on the roof. “Hrk… Crap…!” High Elf Archer stumbled and dropped to one knee, while the goblins caught up in the cloud similarly collapsed around her.

“This has to be Sleep Cloud…!” Dwarf Shaman exclaimed, clapping a hand to his mouth.

“Grr… We must…focus!” Lizard Priest tried to rouse High Elf Archer, but his own movements were becoming visibly slower.

It’s like being underwater, Priestess thought dimly. Her eyelids were growing heavy, and her staff was the only thing keeping her upright.

It had been so much fun, all of them playing together in the water on their vacation.

The world swung back and forth, left, right; everything tilted as she found she could no longer stand up.

Maybe it’s…all right now.

Her consciousness wavered, just for an instant. But that was all it took for Protection to disappear completely.

With vision grown dangerously dark, she saw High Elf Archer on her knees, and beyond her, someone’s back. The goblins who had been kept at bay by the spell now poured in, trying to drag him down.

“Ah…”

High Elf Archer was pulled to the ground. Her clothes were torn. She waved an arm languidly.

A club came down on Dwarf Shaman’s shoulder. His grip slackened and he dropped his ax, which clattered to the floor.

A goblin jumped on Lizard Priest’s neck. The dagger in its hand worked between the scales.

“…Urg…”

Goblin Slayer’s shoulder— A sword— Blood.

“Goblin Slayer, sir…”

Her voice was so quiet. But it was enough.

“…! Guh…”

She took a breath. That was the first thing. Fill that small chest with air then let it out.

“HHHHRAAAAAHHHHHHHH…!!”

She’d had no idea she was capable of such a monumental shout until it sprang forth from her throat.

“Everyone…! Goblin…Slayer…sir…!” There was no answer.

She shook her sounding staff. “Goblin Slayer, sir!!”

No answer. “…!!”

Priestess gritted her teeth and struggled to maintain consciousness; she could see a goblin shifting and shuffling in the far reaches of her vision. She could see him holding his staff, laughing maniacally despite the blood dribbling from his shoulder.

The blood ran down his arm, splattering against the ground in time with the shaman’s footsteps.

Impure.

It was nothing more than an intuition. There was no prompting from the Earth Mother in heaven. No, it was simply the answer she arrived at out of her own experience, her experience as a weak sixteen-year-old girl adventuring with the man called Goblin Slayer.

Her answer to what she could do. What she should do.

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, please, by your revered hand, cleanse us of our corruption!!”

And then a miracle happened. “GORB?!”

By the time he noticed the change, it was too late. The goblin shaman’s blood had been turned to pure water.

“GOBOGGBOGOBOOGOGOBOGOOG?!?!?!”

The goblin shaman howled as if his insides were being shredded. Priestess thought she felt her very soul rocked by the awful bellow, but it brought her back to herself.

“Er—ah—ahh…?!”

Her connection to the world above vanished like a cut string, and the world of sound came rushing back into her ears.

This divine act, Purify, must never be used in this way again.

“Ah, ahh…?!”

Something seemed to impact upon her very soul, rattling every fiber of her being.

She had done something awful.

The honored Earth Mother, the fount of all compassion and mercy, had accepted this connection with her soul, and she—

“Aaaaarrrrghhh…!”

Priestess let out an agonized scream at what she had done.

Her sounding staff made a hollow sound as it rolled along the roof where she had dropped it.

The bloodlust vanished as if it had dropped off into the abyss. Priestess was left with a hand pressed vacantly to her chest, only now realizing that tears were pouring from her eyes.

“Agh—ahhhhhhhh…!”

But two words reached her ears as she stood weeping like a child. “Well done.”

Two words.

“Ah…”

Just the two.

That was all it took to put strength back into legs she had been sure were going to collapse.

“…Y-yes, sir…!” “All right.”

Goblin Slayer was, in a word, a mess. A dagger had been jammed into a chink in his armor, tearing the chain mail beneath. He was scuffed from being hit.

He pulled the dagger from his shoulder; when he saw the sticky liquid slathered on its blade, he gave a cluck of his tongue. Pulling a bottle with a string tied around it from his item pouch, he drank its contents. Then a second bottle.

An elixir. An antidote.

Once he was done, he pitched the empty bottles at the nearest goblin. “GOOBOG?!”

Then he turned around, using the shield on his left arm to slaughter the goblin crouching by High Elf Archer.

“GROBO?!”

“Twenty-one. Get up!”

“Hrgh, ah… Or… Orcbolg…?”

She got unsteadily to her feet. She was in a terrible state. Drenched in blood, wounded, covered in goblin brains, and her clothes shredded.

But she was alive. That was enough.

“Drink,” Goblin Slayer instructed, handing her a potion with his left hand. “And use this!” he shouted to Dwarf Shaman, tossing him the sword in his right.

“I sh-shall!” He caught the hilt in a backhand grip, raised it, and then brought it down, splitting open a goblin’s stomach with it.

“GOBOGOOBOG?!”

“Now I see why you like these things, Beard-cutter!”

He kicked away the gutted creature and swung at the next enemy. His right arm hung limply at his side, but he was capable enough of fighting. The sword in his left hand slashed another goblin.

When Lizard Priest regained his consciousness, his strength was unparalleled. “Hrraghh…!”

He grabbed the goblin attempting to sink a dagger into his neck and flung the creature to the floor.

“GOBORO?!”

The monster’s spine adopted an unnatural angle; the goblin twitched once and then lay still.

Before the creature had expired, Lizard Priest was already lashing out with claws and claws and fangs and tail. He screeched and slashed, almost literally blowing the goblins away.

“They nearly pulled one over on us there…!” He wiped the goblin blood from his chin with his sleeve and let out a great whooshing breath. “Milord Goblin Slayer, I shall resume the attack!”

“Please do,” Goblin Slayer said as he took Priestess’s arm where she was slumped down.

“Oh… Goblin Slayer…sir…”

She took him in dimly. A crack ran along his helmet, there were gouges in his leather armor, and the stench of blood was stronger than usual. But that shining red eye looked straight at her from between the slats of the visor.

“You did well.”

“…Oh, y-yes, sir…!” She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and collected the cap and staff she had dropped in the melee.

This wasn’t over yet. There were still so many goblins. The battle had to go on.

“Gorgosaurus, beautiful though wounded, may I partake in the healing in your body!”

Lizard Priest’s prayer surrounded the party with warm light, restoring their energy. It was the Refresh miracle. Ah, how great is the blessing of the nagas!

As he checked the state of his injuries, Goblin Slayer drove his sword into the throat of a nearby goblin.

“GOROBORO?!”

“Twenty and two. Press ahead, run… Can you run?”

“Yeah, I’m good… Geez, this thing is bitter,” High Elf Archer complained as Goblin Slayer kicked aside his latest writhing, blood-spurting victim.

She clucked as she tried to pull the remains of her shirt over her chest, then she tossed away the empty bottle and gave Priestess a wink. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Right! I can… I can move, too… I will move!” She forced herself to speak as forcefully as she could. She gave a flourish of her staff to keep the goblins behind them at bay.

“Master spell caster, are you quite ready?”

“Never been readier. I worked hard to save these spells for this!”

And with these shouts from Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman, the party moved forward… No.

“GOROB!!”

“GRO! GRB!”

Rather, that is to say, they found themselves cornered at the tower’s edge. Just a few steps ahead, they could see a sheer drop down into a veritable ocean of trees. The goblins had recovered from the confusion of Purify and now cackled as they came closer.

They would get that elf on her knees again and make her theirs. They would tear that little girl with her little ploys into little pieces.

Kill the men. Rape and kill the women. It had been stupid of their compatriots to get themselves murdered, but still, the goblins wanted revenge. For the goblins, the death of their fellows was nothing more than a reason to affirm their own greed.

The monsters advanced, weapons clutched in hand, crotches bulging, lust glinting in their eyes.

Goblin Slayer was calm in the face of the encroaching horde.

“Jump!!”

One after another, the adventurers flung themselves into space. The air that rushed upward at them cleansed itself of humidity, cooling their battle- heated bodies.

The first signs of dawn were tracing their way along the horizon, casting light upon the sky, the trees.

Eventually, though, gravity would have its way with the party, crushing them against the ground.

“GBBRB!”

“GROGGB! GORRBGROB!!”

As the goblins yammered and mocked, Dwarf Shaman gave an incongruous grin. His fat, stubby fingers flashed in the air, tracing complicated sigils, and then he shouted: “Come out, you gnomes, and let it go! Here it comes, look out below! Turn those buckets upside-down—empty all upon the ground!”

The speed of their descent immediately slowed. It had been worth it to save up this Falling Control spell.

The party floated gently in the sky as if resting on a giant, invisible hand.

Now they had nothing to fear from the ground.

“Eep, eep, eep…!” Priestess pressed a hand to the hem of her dress as the wind threatened to blow it up. High Elf Archer smiled in relief. The grim, drawn expression Priestess had been wearing until moments earlier didn’t suit that girl. High Elf Archer didn’t want that for her.

I knew goblin slaying was nasty.

She reached out a hand, and Priestess took it. “Oh…”

“You okay?”

“I-I’m very sorry…!”

“Ahh, don’t mention it. Hey, dwarf, you actually did it!”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Dwarf Shaman chortled. He smiled with his eyes, pleased to see High Elf Archer so happy with his work, then pulled the wine jug from his belt and took a swig.

The rising sun, the first rays of dawn, the morning light, the wind, the forest, the whole world. Was there anything that could make wine taste better than this?

“I would say this went rather well,” Lizard Priest remarked, relaxing his whole body until he was spread-eagled. He looked so relaxed—but his eyes still focused up at the goblins. He could see them clearly, pointing and gibbering to one another. “Though I admit, I wondered, for a moment.”

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer said, also looking up. “This is the best way to get rid of goblins.”

§

“G… B…”

The goblin shaman’s consciousness chose that moment to return to him.

The sound of the river seemed so loud. His head was spinning; it was like there was a ringing in his ears. It was hard to breathe, and his vision was constricted. Wheezing and rasping, he managed to use his staff to drag himself to his feet.

He didn’t understand why some of his blood had become water, why his breath no longer seemed to transit through his body quite right. He looked around and saw the other goblins clustered at the edge of the roof, chattering excitedly.

“GOBOOGB…!”

What a lot of jackasses. Had they no impulse to help the one who guided them, or at least show him proper reverence? The goblin shaman was incensed, conveniently forgetting that a moment earlier, he had been using these same creatures as shields.

And on top of that, it looked like the adventurers had escaped. Useless louts.

“GORB! GROBOOGOBOGR!!” The shaman exclaimed, waving his staff.

Several goblins looked over. “GBBGROB?!”

The shaman was not so much pleased that some had responded as enraged that some hadn’t.

Good help was impossible to find.

If he could get his hands on that elf, or that human girl, or perhaps the princess from the forest, he could use her to rebuild his horde. As the most important creature around, he would take the choicest females and make them bear his own young. Didn’t he have the right?

“GROROB…?”

What, though, was the sound of water he was hearing? “GROROBOROGBORO?!?!?!”

A second later, the goblin shaman’s body was hefted into the air by the torrent of water that poured from the open gates of the elevator. Launched into the sky by the flash flood, he spent the last seconds of his life in total confusion. He went to his grave never knowing that Tunnel had been used to punch a hole in the breakwater. Nor that water pressure had caused the geyser to rise up from the lowest to the highest level of the tower.

Goblins, it must be assumed, would never have imagined that water might go up as well as down.

If the builders of the fortress could have witnessed the scene, they would have rejoiced at the doom of the Non-Prayer Characters.

It was precisely the way the goblins had dammed up the water that had caused it to build up until it could explode.

The shaman went up, up with the water then came down, down and splattered his brains on the ground. And even that trace, the last evidence he had ever existed, was instantly washed away by the deluge.

A fitting end.

§

Droplets showered from the geyser as if a sudden squall had come through, the water sparkling in the sunlight. A few goblins also came tumbling down, pushed over the edge of the tower, but the fall was more than long enough to finish them off.

“Are… Are you sure about this?” High Elf Archer asked dubiously, shaking her head and sending water flying from her soaked hair.

Goblin Slayer let out a long breath. “The tunnel will shortly shrink and then close. I don’t believe the building will collapse.”

“Not what I was asking,” High Elf Archer said, her ears slicking in annoyance. “I meant all the water left inside.”

“As far as that goes,” Goblin Slayer said calmly, “all we can do is ask the elves to come deal with it later.”

High Elf Archer harrumphed and fell silent, earning a laugh from Dwarf Shaman. “So there’ll be a wedding when we get back?” He was drifting gently through the air, sipping his wine and enjoying the sunrise. Indeed, it was he who held them in this spot. If he let his concentration lapse for even a second, they would all fall to their deaths.

High Elf Archer looked at him incredulously, but he ignored her. “Planning to get married yourself yet?” he asked.

“Not for at least another millennium.”

“Think anyone’s going to want a three-thousand-year-old bride?” “What did you just say to me?!” High Elf Archer growled.

They might have been floating in midair, but the tone of their argument was familiar, and Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in amusement. “Upon that dawn when I become a naga, might I welcome you as a naga’s bride?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” High Elf Archer’s long ears didn’t miss Lizard Priest’s joking remark. She was smiling like a cat who’d discovered a new toy. “What’s this—a confession of love? For real?”

“Mmm. I suppose we won’t know for at least a thousand years.”

Priestess watched the three friends banter, not paying too much attention. High Elf Archer had let go of her hand, and no one else took it instead. It was just her, floating in the sky, holding her cap down with one hand and her skirt with the other.

She let out a soft but audible breath, and Goblin Slayer’s helmet turned in her direction. “Are you tired?”

“Oh, uh, no!” she said quickly, waving her hand. “Not at all…” But then— But still—

The hand she was waving drooped limply. Not quite sure what to say, she said, quietly, the first thing that came to mind. “…Well, maybe a little.”

“I see.”

In the end, could she really live with…with the way she’d used Purify?

It wasn’t right. There’s no question…

Purify was intended to make water clean. It was wrong to use it to take the life of another living being, even a goblin.

Yet, the Earth Mother had answered her prayer because it was a plea to save other living beings.

That was why the goddess, in all her compassion, had granted her imprimatur for what Priestess had done.

Just this one time. What a thing to do. But…

Even so, I prayed, and she caused a miracle for me.

How was Priestess to interpret that, how to understand it?

A year before, when she was attempting her first adventure, it had been all things she didn’t understand.

And now? She still understood just two things. That she was and would be still an adventurer.

And that Goblin Slayer always had and always would kill all the goblins.

And I…

Could she go on believing in the Earth Mother?

Did she deserve to have miracles bestowed upon her by the goddess? She didn’t know. There was no way to know.

Had she grown and matured at all over the past year? Maybe just a little…?

“Look,” came a murmured command.

“Huh…?” Priestess quickly looked up, taken by surprise.

The sun was blindingly bright; she found herself blinking away tears.

The lightening sky stretched out over an infinity of green. And hanging there, as if to bind the two together…

“It’s a rainbow.”