Goblin Slayer - Volume 8 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – The Slayer Of Goblins Goes To The Capital

“So you’ve come,” she said. 

Her voice contained such heat, it seemed it could melt at any moment. The sun shone through the window behind her, and the lips that peeked out from under her hood smiled softly. 

The woman sloughed off her robe, and waves of golden hair emerged like the sea. Her sheer, white garments gleefully exposed the voluptuous lines of her body—the Earth Mother herself might look like this. 

The skin her vestments revealed was perfectly white, almost translucent, as if untouched by the sun. It meant that the tinge of rose in her cheeks was probably not just from the light. She almost seemed like a harlot—and there were temples that kept sacred prostitutes. 

She could have wrapped any man who gazed upon her around her little finger, and yet, her eyes were covered with a black sash. In her hand, she held the downward-pointing sword and scales that were the symbol of righteousness and justice. The way she all but leaned on them, the way she whispered, conveyed intense anxiety. 

“Have I…disturbed you?” 

“No.” 

Sword Maiden. That was the name of the frontier cleric whom Goblin Slayer answered in his low, flat voice. 

“Is it goblins?” 

§ 

It was morning. 

Goblin Slayer was out of bed before dawn and checking his equipment. 

Helmet, armor, the layers worn under the armor, shield, sword. All in good condition. Everything in working order. Then he took out his item bag to check the contents. 

There were the potions, wound with knotted strings to distinguish among them, along with an eggshell full of blinding powder, a scroll, and an assortment of miscellaneous items. 

When he had confirmed that everything was as it should be, he started donning his gear. Then he left his room, going down the hallway as delicately as he could so as not to wake the other two people in the house, who he assumed were still asleep. 

He made it outside with hardly the sound of a footstep, and when he emerged from the house, he was immediately enveloped by the cold autumn air. There was a fine, milky mist over the farm, perhaps the product of the morning dew. Goblin Slayer felt like he was inside a cloud. He stopped and looked around. 

“…Hmph.” 

Visibility was poor. He snorted, displeased about this, but then began striding into the fog. 

He started the day’s patrol by following the fence in a circuit around the farm. He was checking to see if it was broken anywhere, of course, but also to see if there were any footprints around and, if so, how many. It would be easy to leave footprints in these slick conditions, but the thick fog made his work difficult. Goblin Slayer, though, attended to it one stretch at a time, silent all the while. 

The inside of a cave was darker than this, after all. He needed to make an effort attempting to see that which could not be seen, in order to train his night vision. 

Once he had completed his patrol of the farm, he retrieved several knives and targets from his shed. He lined up a row of bottles and other small things along the fence then practiced spinning around, taking aim in an instant, and throwing. 

One after another, the daggers whistled through the morning air, sending the bottles flying, or sticking upright in the fence. 

“Hrm.” 

That was all Goblin Slayer said about the matter as he set about cleaning up the weapons and targets. Dawn was pitching its first rays over the horizon. 

He had put his training tools away in the shed when, suddenly, he spotted a figure near the entrance to the farm. 

A goblin? 

His hand grasped the sword at his hip. The figure was too shadowy to make out, but it took one or two steps. When he realized it was too big to be a goblin, he loosened his grip on his sword. 

“Who’s there?” he asked. 

“Eeyikes!” came the startled reply. The panicking stranger was a young man, one who looked vaguely familiar. 

Goblin Slayer closed the distance between them at a bold stride, and the boy’s face tightened. Then at last, Goblin Slayer realized the visitor was wearing a Guild uniform. An employee, then. 

“So you’re from the Guild. What is it?” 

“Er, I’d—I’d heard the stories, but… Anyway.” The young man coughed discreetly. “You have a visitor at the Guild. Your presence has been requested, immediately.” 

“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Then the helmet tilted just slightly. “Is it goblins?” 

“I—I’m not…sure…?” 

“Wait just a moment.” His tone brooked no argument. He spun on his heel and went back to the house. 

Behind him, the young man put a hand to his chest, speechless, but Goblin Slayer paid him no mind. 

He cut through the hallways, certain of where he was going, until he found the door he was looking for. 

“I’m coming in.” 

“Huh?— Wah?!” 

With a most unladylike shout, Cow Girl tried to wrap a sheet around herself—she had been smack in the middle of dressing and was standing there buck naked. 

Goblin Slayer fell silent at the sight that greeted him as he opened the door; then he turned his helmet aside and spoke calmly. 

“……I won’t need breakfast. I’m going out.” 

Cow Girl flapped her hand at him helplessly. Maybe she didn’t mind showing herself to him, but she didn’t want him to simply walk in on her like this. 

“Kn-knock! You have to knock!” 

“…I see,” Goblin Slayer said quietly. “I apologize.” 

“I-it’s okay… I mean, it’s fine, but…” Cow Girl pressed a hand to her huge chest and breathed deeply. Her face was red—from surprise, or embarrassment? Even she wasn’t sure. He had apologized right away, and she was tempted to let it go at that… 

“So,” she said, her voice an octave higher than usual. “…What’s going on?” 

Goblin Slayer’s answer was brusque. “I don’t know, but I’ve been summoned to the Guild.” 

“Okay,” Cow Girl said softly. 

I guess this means he won’t need dinner tonight, either. She felt a twinge in her chest. 

As if in confirmation, he said, coldly and softly, “If there are goblins involved, I will not be able to help around the farm today.” 

See you later. 

She saw him off with those words and a smile, but after that, Cow Girl had to sit down on her bed for a time. 

§ 

“Oh! Goblin Slayer, sir!” He saw Guild Girl’s face light up as he entered the Guild. 

It was early in the morning. 

Adventurers who had rented rooms at the Guild were just filtering down to the tavern from the second floor, blearily shoveling breakfast into their mouths. There weren’t too many of them, though, since the quest papers hadn’t even been posted yet; the entire place’s atmosphere was relaxed and slow. 

The one exception was the staff members in the back rooms, who were rushing around, handling administrative work. They were preparing documents, readying posts, checking the safe, confirming salient information, and so on. 

In the midst of all this, Guild Girl found a moment to give Goblin Slayer a little wave as he entered the building. 

“Your guest is already waiting!” 

“I see. On the second floor?” 

“That’s right! Er, I…” Guild Girl’s formerly cheerful face clouded over. Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that her prepared smile simply faltered for a moment. 

She trailed off like she couldn’t quite bring herself to say what came next. Goblin Slayer tilted his head the slightest bit. “What is it?” 

Her braids bounced like a puppy’s tail: poing! Guild Girl bowed her head apologetically. 

“I’m really sorry about the quest last time.” 

“Last time…” 

“The—you know, the sea-goblin one.” Guild Girl could hardly get the words out. She had just received his report yesterday. 

Goblin Slayer had to give this some thought, but eventually, even he seemed to figure out what she was saying. “Ah,” he said, nodding. Then he proceeded to shake his head. “It doesn’t bother me.” 

With that phenomenally brief statement, Goblin Slayer headed for the stairs. He didn’t even notice Guild Girl putting a hand to her heart in relief as he began to climb them. 

He discovered he was going to the same meeting room in which he had first been introduced to the people who were now his party members. How long had it been? With the fleeting realization that more than a year had passed by now, he opened the door. 

As he did so, the woman standing by the window on the far side of the room raised her head and looked at him. 

“So you’ve come,” she said. 

Her voice had such heat in it, it seemed it could melt at any moment. The sun came through the window behind her, and the lips that peeked out from under her hood smiled softly. 

The woman sloughed off her robe, and waves of golden hair emerged like the sea. Her sheer, white garments gleefully exposed the voluptuous lines of her body—the Earth Mother herself might look like this. 

The skin her vestments revealed was perfectly white, almost translucent, as if untouched by the sun. It meant that the tinge of rose in her cheeks was probably not just from the light. She almost seemed like a harlot—and there were temples that kept sacred prostitutes. 

She could have wrapped any man who gazed upon her around her little finger, and yet, her eyes were covered with a black sash. In her hand, she held the downward-pointing sword and scales that were the symbol of righteousness and justice. The way she all but leaned on them, the way she whispered, conveyed intense anxiety. 

“Have I…disturbed you?” 

“No.” 

Sword Maiden. That was the name of the frontier cleric whom Goblin Slayer answered in his diffident voice. 

“Is it goblins?” 

“Yes, there are. I beg you, help me… Or should I say…” Her alluring, sultry voice was almost a whisper as she shook her head. “…kill them?” 

“Of course,” he said with the swiftness of a striking sword. 

Her lips softened into the slightest of smiles, her breath coming warm. Her hair spilled over her expansive chest, little waves rippling through it. 

“Where are they? How big is the nest?” 

“There are some…special details you should know.” 

“Tell me.” 

Sword Maiden gestured to Goblin Slayer to take a seat, as though he and not she were the guest. The way he sat down was almost violent; by contrast, when she lowered herself, it was with the utmost grace. She shifted a little, getting her ample butt into just the right place, and then she pulled the sword and scales close. 

“The location is… Excuse me, could you bring me a map?” 

“Sure, sure, I’ve got it ready,” answered an older female cleric. How long had she been there? This woman almost seemed to meld with the shadows in the corner of the meeting room. 

The cleric spread the map out on the tabletop with hardly a sound despite her voluminous vestments. 

She is some kind of monk, no doubt, Goblin Slayer thought and then immediately shifted his focus. She had nothing to do with goblins. 

Sword Maiden must have guessed what he was thinking, for she let out a quiet chuckle. “She’s a helper of mine. A bodyguard, too… Though I said I didn’t need one.” 

“Skilled though you may be, milady archbishop, even you might be in danger traveling alone. What else were we to do?” 

Boo. Sword Maiden seemed like she was almost pouting—but then she coughed gently, a little embarrassed. “In any event, the goblins are appearing…” 

She ran a finger along the map gently, almost a caress. She somehow traced the roads expertly, even though she was effectively blindfolded. 

“…here, on the highway that goes from the water town to this one and toward the capital.” 

“The highway…” 

“It’s terrifying. The road hasn’t become quite impassable just yet, but…” 

…it almost is. What would the average person think if they heard Sword Maiden’s assessment? 

“Hrm,” Goblin Slayer grunted as he glanced at Sword Maiden, whose shoulders were shaking. “Do we know the nature of the nest, its size, or any other details?” 

“Eyewitness accounts suggest about twenty goblins, all with the same tattoo. We don’t know where the nest is, but…” Sword Maiden’s voice dropped, like that of a child recounting an especially disturbing dream. “…reports said they were riding on wolves.” 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said softly then grunted again as he lapsed into thought. 

They had encountered riders before, in the rain forest, a battle that had involved the two groups shooting at each other along a cliffside. It had been considerable trouble to finish them off on that occasion… 

“Milady archbishop is obliged to participate in a council that will be taking place at the capital soon.” Sigh. The attendant’s words seemed intended to supplement Sword Maiden’s explanation and perhaps to clarify as well. Perhaps she couldn’t bear the idea that one of the great protectors who had brought peace to the frontier should be perceived as afraid of mere goblins. Or perhaps it was out of genuine compassion for the mistress she served. “The quest, then, isn’t technically monster slaying but private bodyguard work.” 

“Will there be other guards?” 

“None. Not least because the urgency of the conference has not permitted time to make such arrangements.” 

Why not use soldiers, or let the military handle things? Any such needling questions from an adventurer would no doubt have wounded Sword Maiden to the core. Her acolyte, it seemed, protected not only her mistress’s physical well-being…but her emotional state as well. 

In any event, Goblin Slayer’s answer was as clean as split wood: “I don’t care. I suspect they’re wanderers without a nest. A wandering tribe.” He stared fixedly at the map, calculating the distance and direction to the capital in his head. 

He had never been to the capital. But then, there was a time in his life when he had never been to this town, either. 

The map was unlikely to be exactly like the reality. He would make sure his plans included time to react to the situation on the ground. 

“If we encounter them, we’ll kill them all, and that will be the end of it.” 

“I didn’t know there were goblins like that.” 

“There are. They’re sometimes called field-goblins.” Goblin Slayer nodded firmly, then thought a moment and added an important clarification. “But a sea-goblin is a kind of fish.” 

“Well.” It was hard to believe. Or anyway, Sword Maiden’s open mouth suggested a sort of disbelief—she quickly covered it with her hands. If her eyes had been visible, they might well have been wide open and blinking. 

“I have to think that almost any adventurer could have helped us deal with a few goblins.” Apparently the acolyte was also dubious, although for different reasons. She glanced at Goblin Slayer—or more precisely, at the Silver-ranked tag hanging around his neck. 

This adventurer in the grimy suit of armor was the one who had buried the blasphemous creature in the sewers of the water town. She couldn’t doubt his abilities. She simply thought perhaps taking someone of his level was a bit excessive. 

“Milady archbishop, however, won’t even consider hiring anyone but you,” she said. 

“He’s the one I trust most of all,” Sword Maiden said, pursing her lips in a pout. 

“Hopeless,” the acolyte could be heard to remark. She sounded like an older sister going along with some whim of her younger sibling. 

Goblin Slayer watched the two of them intently then spoke in a low voice. “I will call my friends,” he said, using a word even he hardly believed he was uttering. “It won’t take long.” 

§ 

“And you took the quest without even hashing out the reward?!” 

“…Reward?” 

“Don’t tell me you forgot, Orcbolg!” 

A tree would forget its roots if it were as dumb as you. 

From her place beside Lizard Priest on the driver’s bench, High Elf Archer flicked her ears in disgust. 

Accompanied by the party, a carriage pulled by a pair of horses clattered out the town gate. A breeze cool with the first breath of autumn sent clouds scudding across the sky; the weather was clear, and it was still comfortably warm out. 

But it was also her day off. This was supposed to be her break. The day when she could sleep until noon if she wanted. 

Instead, she had been shaken out of her sleep with “We have a job” and “It’s goblins.” Even an elf would be upset, and High Elf Archer was perfectly willing to demonstrate as much with the use of her ears. 

“Well, er, come on, now…” Priestess, her face strained, attempted to calm the archer, but it wasn’t like she didn’t understand the feeling. After all, it had been goblin hunting yesterday and it would be goblin hunting today. She adored adventures proper, so she couldn’t have been happy about this. 

Not that it will keep me from going with him, of course… 

He had come to them as usual with his discussion-that-wasn’t-a-discussion; he was truly hopeless. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir, you need to make sure you get the details, all right?” She held up her pointer finger the way she had done when scolding the junior clerics at the temple. 

“I see,” he said and gave an attentive nod—that made him less trouble than most of the young disciples. 

“I guess we can just talk about the reward later… Can’t we?” 

“Certainly. Of course, I’m prepared to compensate you.” Inside the carriage the party surrounded sat a woman wearing a hood and a small smile. The attendant seated across from her was quite beautiful, but the sheer glory of her form, and the mysterious and alluring shape of her mouth, were nothing compared with those of her mistress. 

Adventurers going this way and that along the road turned disinterested looks on the beauty staring out the window of the carriage. 

The scene was, well, unremarkable. This was hardly the first time the man who accepted nothing but goblin quests had done something strange. He was a strange one, and now he had taken on a goblin-related quest and was guarding this woman. 

The somewhat indulgent atmosphere, though, was probably lost on the man himself… 

“For starters, I’ll offer you all a bag of gold coins in advance. Then another when we arrive.” 

“One bag each?” Dwarf Shaman said. 

“That’s right.” 

That provoked a “Hmm” and satisfied stroke of the beard from the dwarf. For goblin slaying, even if it was goblin slaying plus some bodyguard work, that was a good price. “Not bad, not bad. Might even be a good chance to do a little sightseeing around the capital…” 

“Uh-huh… The—the capital. I have always wanted to see it once…” High Elf Archer was still annoyed, but she seemed to realize that an outburst here would be less than tactful and contented herself with grumbling a bit. 

Well indeed, ha-ha. Lizard Priest cackled from where he sat on the driver’s bench, holding the reins. 

There was Goblin Slayer, who looked to be guiding the carriage. Lizard Priest and High Elf Archer were sitting on the bench. Dwarf Shaman and Priestess went on either side for support. No one had needed to say anything; they simply fell into this formation. 

Ultimately, they had all followed “milord Goblin Slayer” without any of them asking about the reward, and that was that. 

Not to say they hadn’t put any thought into the trip or adequately prepared. They had given everything due consideration. 

Yes, most agreeable. Lizard Priest was pleased to know most people would not be able to read his expression as his smile deepened. 

Suddenly, not far outside town, Goblin Slayer spoke up. “…Stop the carriage.” 

“So I shall.” Lizard Priest put a scaled hand to the reins to check the horses. 

“Wait a moment,” Goblin Slayer said and began walking. They didn’t have to ask why. Just a short distance from the road, on the other side of the fence, they could see a young girl with red hair. 

“Beard-cutter’s nothing if not devoted. Eh, Scaly?” 

“They say that to be seen face-to-face is to form a bond. But a bond may loosen without proper attention.” 

Dwarf Shaman came over to the stationary carriage, popping the cork out of his wine jug and taking a swig. 

“Drinking before noon?” High Elf Archer remarked with surprise, but a dwarf who doesn’t drink is no dwarf at all. 

“Don’t be dense. This is fuel; it keeps me going. How’m I supposed to chant my spells if my tongue’s not loose enough?” 

Priestess found herself smiling at Dwarf Shaman’s apparent complete seriousness. “It’s easy to get thirsty, isn’t it? It may be autumn, but enough walking will still make you sweat.” She opened her collar a bit (even though she knew it wasn’t at all ladylike) and fanned herself. 

It wasn’t quite hot enough to qualify as an Indian summer, but the last vestiges of the warm season were still quite noticeable. Adventurers were accustomed to walking everywhere, but even so, sweating could be draining and tiresome. 

That makes her even more impressive, Priestess thought as she watched Cow Girl conversing with Goblin Slayer. The farm girl was always upbeat and smiling, despite how demanding her farm work must have been. 

At the moment, she was making a don’t worry about it gesture toward Goblin Slayer. He must have told her that he needed to leave right away. 

What if I were in her position…? 

“If…” 

The word, spoken softly and reluctantly, came from inside the carriage. 

Priestess peeked in the window to find Sword Maiden shifting uncomfortably. Her breasts, which invited comparison to some very large fruit, jiggled a little as she pressed herself to the window frame. Priestess found herself quite startled. 

“…Ahem, may I inquire who is out there?” 

Hmm? Priestess thought but quickly connected the dots. 

She was talking about him. 

“Er, it’s the young woman from the farm where Goblin Slayer lives.” 

“I see…” A breath, carrying a hint of sadness, slipped from between Sword Maiden’s moist, red lips. 

“Ma’am, is there a…?” 

“No…,” Sword Maiden said, shaking her head and tilting it down ever so slightly. “…It’s nothing.” 

“I… I see.” Priestess forced herself to look away from Sword Maiden, despite her desire to steal another glance at the woman. 

Priestess was well familiar with that feeling of infatuation. It was the same one she felt toward that beautiful witch. 

So then, what was this feeling she had toward Sword Maiden, the exalted archbishop? 

I don’t think it’s quite reverence. 

When she thought back on her time in the water town, recalling that bath and the ritual of the Resurrection miracle, she could still feel something deep inside her grow hot. 

Erk! 

She shook her head vigorously to keep her cheeks from flushing at the thought of that moment in bed. 

“I’m finished.” 

“Oh, of course!” Priestess looked up quickly as the striding footsteps approached. She made sure she had a good grip on her sounding staff, checked that the luggage was all in order, and wiped the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief, and then she was ready to go. 

“Mm, let us be off, then.” Lizard Priest gave a toss of the reins and the carriage started moving again. 

Dwarf Shaman rifled through his bag, producing an apple out of which he took a big bite while walking along. 

Priestess giggled and could be heard to pointedly mutter, “Really, now,” over the tinkling of her staff. “You’ll be too full for lunch.” 

“What, you mean this? The likes of this hardly reaches a dwarf’s stomach.” 

“Oh, give me some!” High Elf Archer said, reaching down from the driver’s bench; Dwarf Shaman tossed the apple to her with a “Here y’go.” 

She caught it in both hands and, grinning, polished it with her sleeve… 

“Ahhh…” Without warning, the elf gave a contented yawn, wiping at her eyes as she did so. “Man, I’d be just as happy if we didn’t run into any goblins on this trip.” 

But that seemed very unlikely. 

§ 

Sword Maiden awoke to the rhythmic crackling of the fire’s dancing flames. 

She hefted herself up from the seat of the dim carriage. She felt for the sword and scales, being careful not to wake her attendant, who slept across from her, as she moved the blanket. 

Then she pulled her vestments on and slipped quietly out of the carriage. 

They were camped for the night. The sun had sunk, the moons were out, and the stars were shining. 

They were in a spot by the road where the grass had been cleared so travelers could rest. The question was, had the weary travelers come first, or the place for a campfire? 

Normally, one might have expected an inn at such a place, but with all the monsters about these days, that was too much to hope for. 

Sword Maiden headed for the center of the campsite with only a slight rustling of cloth. She’d heard there were no other carriages. That meant whoever was tending the fire had to be a member of her party. 

A figure loomed up dimly against the light of the flames, a man she recognized from her very dreams. 

“…Good evening?” she said as she approached, seating herself beside him on her plump behind. She left some space between them—because she couldn’t bear to get any closer to him. 

Goblin Slayer’s shadow moved, his helmeted head turning toward Sword Maiden. Her attendant complained that it looked grimy and cheap. And it had felt that way, when she had removed it once. 

“You are not asleep?” 

“Er…” 

His voice was so soft and cold, disinterested, almost mechanical. Sword Maiden put a hand to her mouth to keep her heart from jumping clear out of her bounteous chest. 

What to say to him? The words she had imagined speaking vanished in an instant. It was, she thought, like when one was working on a letter but then wrote the wrong thing, balled up the entire piece of paper, and threw it away. 

“…After everything you did, I was finally able to sleep well again. I wanted to thank you once more…” 

“But you’re awake right now.” 

She had finally managed to speak from the heart, but Goblin Slayer had struck her down with his remark. 

“That’s…” Sword Maiden puffed out her cheeks, pursing her red lips. “…You, sir, are the worst.” 

“Is that so?” 

“I certainly think so.” 

He didn’t even realize how she felt. 

Sword Maiden turned away from Goblin Slayer, but beneath her blindfold, she glanced in his direction. He was a dark presence that stared into the flames, never moving. To her, he looked like a sword waiting for the moment it would be drawn. 

I don’t suppose he’s at all interested in what kind of council they’re holding in the capital. 

They were surrounded by dozing adventurers in their sleeping bags and blankets. 

Sword Maiden let out a soft breath. In the end, she found herself with only one choice of conversation topic. 

“So we didn’t see any goblins today…” 

“They will come,” Goblin Slayer said, stirring the fire with a long stick. A piece of firewood splintered, sending up motes of flame. 

“We have a carriage surrounded by armed guards. It would be difficult to attack outright.” 

“…” 

“Tonight, or tomorrow.” 

Sword Maiden could say nothing more. Her womb felt as if it had been stabbed with an icicle, the cold spreading out and causing her to shiver. 

She clutched the sword and scales to her chest. Darkness pressed in from every direction. 

The wind danced through the leaves and grass with a hushing sound. Sword Maiden felt herself stiffening. 

She looked to the right. The sound of branches bobbing. She looked to the left. The breeze blowing across the plain. Hush, hush. The cries of birds. The cries of beasts. 

A sour smell of earth came drifting. Crackle, crackle. The fire jumping. The odor of burning wood. 

Hideous laughter echoed in her mind. Pointing and cackling. The fire drew near before her eyes. 

She shook her head and shook it again, no, no. She felt as if she were begging for she knew not what. 

A crimson tongue wiped her vision blank. A half-heard howl. A burning like hot tongs between her legs. Wailing. 

A cry like a death rattle, unending, pounding against her eardrums. The voice was her own. She had reached the extremity, her soul and her very dignity shattering— 

“Sleep.” 

The low voice gave the impression of steel. The word came from the black shadow looming in front of her. 

“Close your eyes, and when you open them, it will be morning.” 

“You make it sound…” Sword Maiden spoke in a strained voice, trying to control breathing that had grown harsh without her realizing it. “…so easy.” 

“I know it’s hard,” Goblin Slayer said with utmost seriousness. “When I was a child, I would lay in bed trying to find out how long I had to keep my eyes closed before it would be morning.” 

The simplest of words. And they evoked from Sword Maiden the slightest of smiles. Just as there had been a time when she was a pure, undefiled girl, the man before her had once been an innocent boy. 

Sword Maiden said nothing further. She doubted she could give voice to the things she really wanted to talk about anyway. 

About herself, about him, about that girl at the farm, and that courageous priestess. 

Various thoughts swirled in her mind, and every time she attempted to say something about them, her tongue would shake and no words would come out. 

But there was a man like a shadow beside her, and for her sake, he silently tended the fire. 

I wish morning would hurry and come. 

I wish the night would go on forever. 

She felt as if all she had forgotten for the past ten years was about to burst forth… Yes, so she felt. 

Sword Maiden drew her knees close and rested her elbows on them, propping her head on her hands. She let out a sigh that mingled sweetness with pity. 

“…Mrn, ugh… Ooh.” 

Sword Maiden had been about to speak when one of the lumps of blankets shifted and turned, and Priestess sat up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawned, and murmured something indecipherable. 

Ahh. Sword Maiden exhaled in disappointment. So much for talking. And dawn was still so far away. 

Priestess got unsteadily to her feet; she had removed her mail and was wearing only her vestments. With all the uncertainty of an acolyte walking through the temple halls in the middle of the night, Priestess went over to her cargo. She had opened her bag before she murmured “What?” as if finally waking up. “Milady archbishop…? And…Goblin Slayer?” 

She blinked, inclining her head in perplexity. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the two of them where they sat next to each other. 

Goblin Slayer she expected; he was on guard. But Sword Maiden next to him—what was she doing there? 

“…Um, is something the matter?” 

“…” Goblin Slayer grunted quietly and turned that metal helmet toward Sword Maiden. “She woke up.” 

“Please,” Sword Maiden said. “You make me sound like a restless child.” 

This would be it for tonight, Sword Maiden decided. She puffed out her cheeks, indeed very much like a child. 

Then, before the startled Priestess could even make an expression of surprise, the archbishop had composed herself again. 

She was no longer a little girl. She wasn’t even a young woman of an age to be smitten with boys. She was under no obligation to admire anybody unconditionally. 

The only person who could be described in all those ways was in fact the puzzled girl before her. The fact caused a prickle in Sword Maiden’s heart, but she smiled wanly all the same. 

“I found I couldn’t quite sleep,” she said. “…And you? Is something wrong?” 

“Er, uh, no, ma’am,” Priestess said with an emphatic shake of her hand. “I was just a little thirsty. I thought of my water…” 

“I see.” Goblin Slayer grabbed his own canteen from his bag and tossed it to her casually. 

“Eep!” Priestess exclaimed, but she caught it, bowing her head politely and saying, “Thank you.” 

She unstoppered the canteen and drank audibly, consuming its contents with each gulp. Sword Maiden watched her closely—and then her hidden gaze suddenly turned toward empty space. 

“…” Goblin Slayer didn’t ask what was wrong. He quickly checked that he had his sword, made sure his armor was fastened. 

When Priestess saw that, her face stiffened. “I’ll go wake the others…!” 

“Don’t let them realize you know.” 

“Right!” 

Priestess took her sounding staff in hand and began to circle the camp as nonchalantly as she could. The rings on her staff shook with each step, jingling out with a sound like a bell. In response, the other three blankets started to move. 

Lizard Priest was the first to awaken, rising silently. He crawled out from under his pile of blankets, shook his stiff body, and quickly took up his dragon fang. 

“They come, then?” 

“…Could be. C’mon, wake up.” 

The response came from Dwarf Shaman. He gave High Elf Archer something of a kick to get her out of bed. With many an “ooh” and “ahh,” she got up, rubbing her eyes. 

“…It’s not even daybreak yet,” she said. 

“Hurry,” Priestess said. “I need to get my mail on…” 

“Look who’s a big girl,” High Elf Archer said, grabbing her bow. Then she picked up a spider crawling nearby and drew out some silk for a bowstring. 

When he saw each of his companions preparing for battle, Goblin Slayer got to his feet. “Go back to the carriage.” 

“But…” Sword Maiden looked up; his rough hand was already grasping her arm. 

“It’s dangerous.” 

He pulled her to her feet without giving her time to argue. Then he set off for the carriage, and Sword Maiden had no choice but to follow. 

With her skills, she could easily have participated in the battle with minimal danger, but… 

!! 

But the fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arm would not allow it. 

She understood perfectly well that this wasn’t her fight. And yet, part of her still wanted to argue. 

Sword Maiden was joyful as she let herself be pulled along, but when she was thrust into the carriage, she let out a small “oh” of disappointment. 

“Bar the door and wait for us.” 

The entryway closed with a clatter. Sword Maiden breathed out, sorrowful, then touched her arm, where there were still red marks from his fingers. 

“…We will. We’ll be waiting for you.” 

Her voice was so soft, it couldn’t possibly have been heard outside the carriage door. It was, instead, a prayer. Whether or not he heard her was of scant consequence. 

“Mrf… What’s happening?” Her sleepy-eyed attendant sat up, still covered in her blanket. 

Sword Maiden didn’t answer but bit her lip and pulled the sword and scales close to her. 

“…” Her sharpened senses could already detect the presences outside. As she pulled the symbol of her deity to her abundant chest, her body began to shake, her lips began to tremble. 

“…Goblins. They’re here.” 

Please, please don’t let any of them escape alive. 

Her strained voice offered up one set of words, her heart another. 

If there was another way for her to fight the goblins, she didn’t know it. 

§ 

“GOOROBOROGB!!” 

The ambush began with an order from a goblin rider. 

The wolf burst out of the bushes and closed quickly, covering the last of the distance in a single great leap. Its jaws streamed filthy saliva, and Goblin Slayer met them with a backhanded pound of his shield. 

“GYAN?!” The wolf yelped and rolled on its side next to the fire; he crushed its throat underfoot then stabbed the neck of the rider, who had been thrown clear. 

The wolf, its spine broken, twitched once, while the goblin drowned choking on his own blood. Goblin Slayer confirmed this then moved on to the next enemy. 

A second wolf—there were perhaps four or five in total —was already jumping out of the bushes. 

“…Hrm.” Goblin Slayer gave a click of his tongue as he went to pull out his sword and discovered it was lodged in the goblin’s flesh. Without missing a beat, he let go of it, grabbed the corpse’s club instead, and swung it around. 

“GGBORORB?!” 

There was the sound of a backbone breaking, much like that of a cracking branch, and the wolf went tumbling to one side. Goblin Slayer attacked its rider as the monster tried to get to his feet. 

“GORGB?!” 

“This makes two.” 

The goblin took a sharp blow to the head; one eye and all his brains came flying out, and he fell over dead. Goblin Slayer flung the club at the next goblin rider then wrenched out the sword piercing the other corpse. 

“Don’t let them escape. Kill them all.” 

“…No matter how you cut it, that just doesn’t sound like something the heroes should be saying,” High Elf Archer grumbled from her position beside the carriage. 

The campsite, bathed in the glow of the fire, already appeared to be surrounded by goblins. In front of her were the wolf mount and the rider Goblin Slayer had knocked from it. 

“Heh-heh.” High Elf Archer pulled two arrows from her quiver; they left her bow almost the instant she looked at her target. The first bolt hit the wolf in the eye; the next, released in lightning succession, tore through the throat of the advancing goblin. 

“GOROR?!” 

“One for the road!” She kicked the death-rattling goblin with her long leg then nocked an arrow into her bow and let it loose. 

The arrow arced through the night at the strangest of angles, dropping somewhere behind the carriage. 

“GROBORB?!” 

A scream. A goblin wobbled out and fell over, clutching his chest, from which the arrow protruded. That made two for her. 

High Elf Archer gave a flick of her ears. The goblin had had a spear, but he was on foot. “I should have known that five of us couldn’t cover this whole area—not with them all around us… Dwarf, lend me a hand!” 

“Oh?” 

Dwarf Shaman was standing beside the horses, ax in hand. Almost before he had answered, High Elf Archer was already moving with the grace of a little bird dancing along a twig: first her foot was in the palm of his free hand, then she stepped on his shoulder, before finally jumping up. 

“I’m taking up a position on top of the carriage. You handle the ground!” 

“Blast it, Long-Ears! I’m not a stepping stool!” 

Even as he groused, he swung his ax with those strong dwarven arms. 

“GBORROB?!” 

This goblin found himself split like firewood from the chest down, his internal organs spilling out. 

Now the goblins on foot were advancing along with the riders. Ten of them, or maybe twenty. 

I see—enough to overwhelm any carriage, Dwarf Shaman thought. 

The cackling goblins had already pushed into the campsite. He didn’t have time to focus long enough to prepare a spell. 

Dwarf Shaman frowned and shook the blood from his ax then raised a ragged shout. “No choice… C’mon, girl, get over here, over here! I’m in trouble!” 

“Oh right, sorry…!” Priestess answered. She was having trouble finding a good spot, constantly watching her back as she waved her sounding staff. Come to think of it, there weren’t many occasions where she’d had to fight while having to defend a target. 

Priestess moved at a mincing run as the goblins pushed closer, leering at her. 

“Eeep?!” 

Well, now—was it fate or chance that caused her to crouch at the moment she did? 

A wolf, snapping for her soft flesh, went flying over her head and was met by Dwarf Shaman’s ax. 

“GYAN?!” 

“Got ’im. You okay?!” 

“Y-yes! I’m… I’m fine! Sorry about that.” 

“Ah, let the wolf apologize!” 

The rider had a fumble—when he was thrown from his mount, he broke his neck in the fall—and Dwarf Shaman kicked the corpse aside then steadied his breathing. 

Priestess came up, sticking close to Dwarf Shaman. Her eyes wandered the night for a moment, seeking for him. 

It’s okay, he’s over there. 

A figure in pitiful-looking armor, brandishing his weapon in the firelight. Priestess took a breath in and let it out. 

“…It looks like a sling would be more useful than a miracle right now,” she said. 

“My thoughts exactly. Holy Light would probably just make the buggers run away…” 

Priestess nodded at Dwarf Shaman then leaned her staff against the carriage and took out the sling she kept at her hip. She grabbed a stone from the ground and started spinning it, and then with an adorable “Yah!” she sent it flying. 

The night didn’t help her aim, and she only struck a goblin in the foot, but— 

“GROB?!” 

“That’s an assist!” High Elf Archer sent an arrow into the creature the moment he paused. The goblin gurgled something then fell over backward, the arrow in his chest. 

Lizard Priest, needless to say, was in fine form. 

“Ha-ha-ha, a little supporting fire makes everything easier. Still—” 

He worked his claws, his claws, his fangs, and his tail to keep himself warm in the chill night. Two goblins he tore apart, another he grasped in his great jaws and flung into the sky. By the time the corpse landed on the ground, his trunk-like tail was already sweeping the monster behind him. 

That was four goblins dead, and he wasn’t even breathing hard. Lizard Priest’s eyes rolled in his head. “I’m afraid simple defense is not in my character.” 

“Eleven… And I agree.” 

It looked like the adventurers had already buried at least half the goblin number, but they couldn’t let down their guard. Goblin Slayer drew his spear from a goblin’s windpipe and threw it at a rider attempting to jump the campfire. 

“GBORRO?!” 

“Meaning…?” 

The goblin, knocked sidelong from his mount, fell squarely into the fire. There was a puff of smoke and ash, and the creature could be heard screaming as he roasted alive. He rolled on the ground, trying desperately to beat out the flames, but the goblins around him merely chuckled to themselves. 

Goblin Slayer kicked aside the corpse of the monster he had slain with his spear, taking the creature’s dagger for his own. 

“That makes twelve,” he continued. “Can you get around to the outside?” 

“The vocabulary of my people does not contain the words I can’t.” Lizard Priest chuckled jovially, touching the tip of his nose with his tongue. His mouth twisted fearsomely, and he rubbed his hands together. “Kindly give me just a moment.” 

Then he went sprinting off through the smoke without a sound. 

Once he had seen the scaled giant safely away, Goblin Slayer took an unlit torch from his item pouch. He touched it to one of the weaker-looking embers nearby. The fire could not be allowed to go out. 

“GRRO?!” 

Next, he dealt the closest goblin a blow with his shield then buried his dagger in the monster’s neck. He started running, straight over the fresh corpse. His objective? His friends (still a strange thought to him) and the carriage they protected. 

“Thirteen… Fourteen!” 

He sent a rising kick into the face of a goblin trying to block his way, smashing the creature’s mouth in. One more step. 

He glanced at the others quickly; no one appeared hurt. He let out a breath. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir!” 

He nodded at Priestess, who greeted him with shining face and said brusquely, “We’re making an anvil.” 

“What?” Priestess asked, her face taut and red. 

High Elf Archer exclaimed “What?!” from atop the carriage. “Now, you listen to me, Orcbolg—!” 

“We have to redouble our defense,” he said, summarily ignoring her. “Invoke Protection. Hurry.” 

“Oh, r-right!” Priestess nearly clung to her sounding staff; Goblin Slayer kept her behind him, to cover her. He caught a blow from an encroaching goblin on his shield then struck back with his dagger, aiming for the solar plexus. 

“GOROB?!” 

“That makes fifteen. Eight left, three of them riders.” He pulled out his dagger as he kicked away the goblin, who was wheezing his last breaths from lungs that could no longer keep air inside. 

Goblin Slayer shook the dark blood from his knife and resumed a fighting posture as he said, “Hold the far side. I’ll take this one.” 

“You got it! Though I’m not much of a vanguard fighter m’self…” Dwarf Shaman’s immediate response was somewhat undercut by his chagrined addendum, but then he went tromping off. 

He was lightly armored, but he was still a dwarf. A full-strength blow from his ax would be more than any goblin could handle. 

“…Grr. Okay, but I don’t have to like it!” High Elf Archer lamented, her bow still singing even as her ears laid back in annoyance. “You’d better apologize later!” 

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Goblin Slayer said flatly. It wasn’t clear if he understood how brusque he sounded. 

Though I doubt it, Priestess thought, smiling a little. She slid her hands along her sounding staff, raising it high. The fact that she was being protected by someone—no, by him—helped tremendously to set her mind at ease. 

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

As a result, her prayer reached the heavens, and a holy protection manifested itself as an invisible barrier around the carriage and the party. 

“GOROROB!” 

“GROBG! GROORBBGRB!!” 

What, then, did these adventurers look like to the goblins? 

They looked very vulnerable, was the answer. 

The goblins cackled to themselves that there was one less adventurer on the field, but they didn’t notice anything else. The enemy was weakened; that was what mattered to them. It just looked to the goblins like these stupid idiots were doing something foolish. Now they were focused on only one question: what would they do to these adventurers? 

How should they kill the men? In front of the women, perhaps? There was a woman inside the carriage, as well! In other words, they could have their fun, and if some of the women died in the process, well, there would be others. Wonderful. 

One of the grinning goblins licked his lips, provoking a look of disgust from the little girl with the staff. 

Then there was that prideful elf up on top of the carriage—how she would scream when they dragged her down from there. 

The goblins were swollen with anticipation and lust. That’s what goblins are, after all. 

And so they didn’t realize what had happened, even after it was too late. 

“GOBRRRR…?” 

The first to notice was a goblin rider near the rear who was looking for his chance to jump into the fray. He heard rustling footsteps coming through the underbrush. Some of his comrades, late to the fun, he suspected. 

The rider pulled on the crude leather straps that served as reins, wheeling around to give them a piece of his mind. 

“GOROBBGB?!” 

He never got a word out; he died spurting blood on the back of his wolf. 

“GYAN?!” 

“GOOR! GOBG!” 

The wolf’s yelp was the goblins’ first indication that something was wrong. 

One, two, three white shadows came at them through the night—wait, were those bones?! 

“O horns and claws of our father, iguanodon, thy four limbs, become two legs to walk upon the earth!” 

The Dragontooth Warriors under Lizard Priest’s command howled and rattled as they attacked the goblins. 

The monsters would never have imagined that one of the adventurers might have escaped the melee using the smoke screen from the campfire for cover, let alone that the adventurer might then pray to his forefathers to raise up soldiers for himself…! 

“Ahh—I do believe this should settle matters until we reach the capital, milord Goblin Slayer.” 

Pressed by the Dragontooth Warriors, the goblins had no choice but to move forward. There, however, they found the sacred barrier of Protection waiting for them. Not to mention a quartet of armed adventurers… 

“Are you…just going to let them crush themselves?” Priestess said, clinging to her staff and focusing to maintain her miracle. 

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer said with complete composure, as he rotated the dagger with a motion of his wrist. “We are going to kill all the goblins.” 

Before dawn broke, his words had come true. 

§ 

It was a scene of annihilation. 

The morning light broke rich and red over a field scattered with the bones and flesh and cruor of goblins and wolves alike. 

Priestess knelt, making a holy sign, gripping her staff tightly as she communed with the Earth Mother. It was not a matter of pardoning the goblins: she prayed equally for the peace of all dead. 

“Are you done?” 

“Oh yes…!” Priestess, caught off guard by the voice, nodded quickly and got to her feet. She looked around and realized Goblin Slayer had already piled up the corpses. 

A sour stench prickled her nose. It was an odor she recognized from her very first adventure, and which she still hadn’t gotten used to: the filth and sweat of goblins. 

“What…are you planning to do?” 

“How many?” Goblin Slayer asked, ignoring her question, instead kneeling beside the collection of corpses. “How many did they kill?” 

“Umm…” Priestess couldn’t quite figure out where to put her eyes. 

Watching from the other side of the window, inside the carriage, Sword Maiden supplied the answer in a tight voice. “…A party of five or six, as I recall…” 

“I see.” Goblin Slayer drew his dagger in a reverse grip. “…” 

“Wh-what’s going on?” Priestess asked. 

“Close the carriage window.” The instruction was so short yet brooked no refusal. 

“Pardon me,” Priestess said as she shuttered the carriage window. As she did so, she saw how pale and sorrowful Sword Maiden’s expression was. 

Ah… 

She understood why then. But it didn’t mean she could stop him. 

Goblin Slayer raised his dagger then brought it down without hesitation into the belly of one of the goblins. 

“Ugh…” Blood came out with a splurting noise, and High Elf Archer, still standing guard atop the carriage, made an involuntary sound of disgust. 

Even for a ranger or an experienced hunter, the scene would be disquieting. This wasn’t like cleaning and skinning an animal, draining its blood. 

“…Hold on, Orcbolg, what do you think you’re doing?” 

“Making sure.” 

His answer, given as he continued to dig through the slop of the goblin’s body, was no clearer than any of his others. 

High Elf Archer waved her hand in exasperation and looked away. Her ears drooped. “Ergh, just…do whatever you want…” 

“How can I have meat tomorrow if you keep that up?” Dwarf Shaman joked, rubbing his stomach, but he continued to scan the area vigilantly all the while. With their frontline fighter at work, it was more important than ever to be alert. 

However… 

“…” Priestess alone bit her lip and stared directly at the goblin corpse. 

“Allow me to assist you, milord Goblin Slayer.” 

“Thanks.” 

Lizard Priest walked up smoothly, drawing his short fang-sword and setting to work. His cuts were rough but experienced and helped the job tremendously. 

“Hmm,” Goblin Slayer grunted, pulling out the goblin’s stomach as he completed his dissection. 

He then proceeded to chop open the wolves as well, emptying the half-digested contents of their gizzards onto the plain. 

“Oh… Ergh…” Finally Priestess could take no more; she crouched down, her face pale. 

Bits and pieces of hands and feet, a chest, strands of hair, all half-dissolved, now littered the field. 

“It doesn’t add up.” 

He told Priestess to rinse the canteen as he held the canteen out to her, and she took it with both hands. She drank noisily, water running from her lips, draining the contents for all she was worth. 

Goblin Slayer watched her out of the corner of his eye as he considered the number of limbs. There wasn’t quite a full set of pairs. 

“…What do you make of it?” 

“Well, now…” Lizard Priest joined him crouching by the hunks of meat, all drenched in stomach juices, spearing one with the tip of his sword. “Perhaps some of them went to feed the wolves, and others were kept separately… Or more likely, not.” 

“I agree. This is a wandering tribe. They should have been traveling with their provisions.” 

“…They didn’t have any cargo with them at all.” 

“Good grief. I mean really.” 

This perspective came from High Elf Archer, who was careful not to look down from her perch on the carriage. 

The whole disemboweling thing had been a big sticking point for her when they’d all first met, but… The elf sighed and flicked her ears then waved her hand. “I don’t see any sign of baggage in the distance, either.” 

“Which means just one thing,” Dwarf Shaman said, looking disturbed himself as he observed the carved bodies. 

A six-person party. Plenty of goblins and wolves to eat them all. 

“…Does it mean…there’s still someone out there?” Priestess asked in a small voice, but nobody answered. 

§ 

“Oh wow…” Priestess let her reaction slip out as she exhaled, her eyes shining. 

It had been several days of walking along the highway from the frontier town, but finally, they had arrived. 

As they approached the capital, fields began to pepper the roadside, and the wind came gusting off the river. In the distance, they could spot the muddy red roof of someone’s house that overlooked the scene. 

The castle walls, which were visible in the far distance, seemed even now to tower before her very eyes. Made of massive marble blocks piled one on top of the other, they formed a monumental gate. Peering up at them hurt her neck. Did the shadow they cast cover the entire roadway at sundown? 

As the thought occurred to Priestess, she found the walls made a much greater impression on her than simply for their size. The beautiful carven stones had not been made with magic. Human skill, human ingenuity, and human strength had made this possible, and that was astounding. 

That architecture had stood for thousands of years, resisting the elements, weathering battle, and overseeing many generations of rulers. 

She had heard of the place before, but she had never seen it. Her entire world had consisted of the Temple, the frontier town, the field, and then, very recently, the water town. No more than that. 

This, though, was vastly larger, and vastly older, than the gate of either the frontier town or the water town. The great gate of the capital had stood for many ages; it was itself the history of those who had words. 

“It’s incredible…!” Priestess said, smiling, shaking off the gloom of the previous night. 

“That thing’s probably older than me,” High Elf Archer said from her position atop the carriage, twitching her ears as they came under the shadow of the gate. The sparkle in her grass-green eyes must have been one of curiosity. Why was it so thrilling to see something one had never seen before? 

“Hey,” she chirped, “what’re all those people doing milling around the wall?” 

“Let me tell you about walls,” Dwarf Shaman answered quietly. “They’re the linchpin of a town’s defense; places take pride in them.” Thus, tasking people with keeping them neat and clean was essential. The dwarf looked up at the carriage with an expression of exasperation. “Long-Ears. You’ve really gotten attached to your spot up there, haven’t you?” 

“Well, it pays to have someone keep an eye out in every direction. Doesn’t it, Orcbolg?” She looked down from the carriage, pleased to be up above the crowd. 

“Yes,” said the man in the grimy helmet. 

Goblin Slayer was looking this way and that, holding a piece of skin. He had cut it off one of the goblins from the previous night—much to High Elf Archer’s and Priestess’s disgust, of course. 

“…Bleh. Tell me again why you felt compelled to take that?” 

“There may be surviving members of the tribe, or they may have a leader.” 

“You could have just copied the symbol onto something.” 

“I wanted to ensure accuracy.” With one gloved finger, he casually traced the geometric pattern of the tattoo on the skin. At length, he gave a small nod then rolled the skin up and stuffed it back in his item pouch. “It looks almost like a hand, but I can’t be sure,” he said, and then the helmet shook. “Do you find this place unusual?” 

“Yes, I do,” Priestess said with an earnest nod. “There are so many people…!” She was looking this way and that, virtually bouncing on her feet. 

“Be careful not to get separated.” 

“I—I know that… I do, okay?” Embarrassed at being treated like a child, Priestess tapped the ground with her staff to emphasize her point. From down by her feet came a hard sound. She had been so focused on the carriage that she hadn’t noticed when the earthen highway had turned to flagstones. 

The crowd had been growing steadily as they got near the capital, and now it pressed in on every side. Even the vast gates seemed narrow compared with the mass of bodies. 

The crowd consisted of young and old, male and female alike, the rich and the poor of every race and tribe, some of them belonging to trades and even countries Priestess couldn’t identify, all of them mingling together, shouting to one another. 

Several other carriages were visible as well, while merchants carrying baskets waded through the crowd, selling water or fruit. The wild colors of the clothing as people walked past or stood by struck her like a kaleidoscope or mosaic. The mélange of languages that reached her ears sounded pleasant, almost like a song. 

“Is it…festival time or something?” she asked. 

Incredibly, it was Sword Maiden who opened the window and, giggling, informed the astonished Priestess, “This is how it always is.” 

“Of course, more people means more trouble, but also more opportunities for adventurers like us,” Lizard Priest said, picking up the thread from where he sat holding the reins. He rolled his eyes happily. 

The carriage rolled toward the gate at a stately pace, looking positively elegant. 

“I’m afraid I am naturally somewhat unsuited for shadow-running, though.” 

“I should think people would love you for bodyguard work,” Dwarf Shaman said, chuckling from his place beside the carriage. He looked like he might be in danger of getting swept away in the crowd, but his pace never slowed. The dwarf looked up at Goblin Slayer, fixing his eyes on the helmet. “You should have plenty of free time, Beard-cutter. Wouldn’t expect many goblin hunts in the capital.” 

“We cannot be sure there are none here.” 

“Forget it,” came the blunt reply. 

Dwarf Shaman’s annoyed answer was the end of it; Goblin Slayer and the others focused their attention forward. 

Unlike the town on the frontier, or even the water town, the gate of the capital didn’t have soldiers standing guard, but rather a guardhouse. Whether coming or going, it was necessary to spend some time dealing with red tape, and that was probably the cause of this traffic jam. 

Dwarf Shaman sized up the line creeping forward under the early autumn sun. “Doesn’t look like we’ll be getting in there anytime soon,” he said with a shrug. Then he took some coins from his pouch and disappeared into the sea of people. 

A few minutes later, he came back with several small bottles, one of which he tossed to High Elf Archer up on the roof of the carriage. “Beats waitin’ around with nothing to do. Here.” 

“Whoop. Thanks… Hey, what is this?” She inspected the glass bottle, which had a violet liquid inside. She gave it a little shake and heard it slosh around then pulled out the cork to find a sweet aroma drifted out. 

“’S called sapa. They take grapes or the like and mix them with lead in a bronze vat to sweeten it.” 

“Hmm,” the elf said, taking an exploratory sniff and then shaking her head. “…Smells too much like metal. I’ll pass.” 

“It’s this limited diet of yours that leaves you with such an anvil.” 

High Elf Archer growled and pursed her lips but didn’t say anything as she pitched the bottle back to Dwarf Shaman. It was still uncorked, so he rushed to catch it as the liquid nearly splashed out. He shot the elf a dirty look and drained the contents in two pointed gulps. 

“Hrmph, it’s perfectly good.” 

“Er, uh, um, but isn’t lead a poison…?” Priestess said, provoking a guffaw from High Elf Archer, who replied, “Dwarves’ bodies are too big to worry about trace poisons.” 

“The word is sturdy!” Dwarf Shaman said, letting out a burp and wiping some droplets from his beard. 

Lizard Priest looked down from where he was urging the horses on at a trot and rolled his eyes. “Now then, have you anything else?” 

“Ahh…” Dwarf Shaman rummaged through his collection of bottles. “Care for some posca?” 

“Posca, you say?” 

“Ah yes.” Sword Maiden smiled from the carriage window. “It’s based on vinegar, isn’t it?” 

“Heavens, you know it?” 

“It is easy to forget, but I was once an adventurer myself.” 

Posca was made by mixing water into wine that had become unduly acidic—or, to put it less elegantly, had turned to vinegar. Honey was added to create a bittersweet flavor, and it kept well, making it a cherished favorite of adventurers visiting the capital. 

“Would you care for some now, then?” 

“May I?” 

“By all means!” 

Sword Maiden smiled ever so slightly. She took the bottle proffered through the window in both hands, removing the cork with what looked almost like a caress. She drank the contents noisily then let out a luscious sigh of contentment. 

“Gracious… Most unladylike!” 

“It can’t matter that much. Surely…” Mm. Sword Maiden licked the last of the droplets from her lips as she replied poutingly to her attendant. Then she popped her head out the window, giving Dwarf Shaman a nod and a cherubic smile. “Thank you very much… It was perfectly delicious.” 

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” he said with a grin then tossed bottles to his companions with a smug “Here.” 

Priestess and High Elf Archer responded with “Yikes, it’s bitter” and “It’s just old grape juice in the end,” although they smiled in spite of themselves. No girl can fail to enjoy a sweet flavor…is maybe going a little far, but still. 

Goblin Slayer caught the next bottle, opening it silently and drinking it down. That was how he treated whatever went into his mouth, be it food or drink, so nobody paid him much mind. Only Priestess smiled as if to say, Hopeless! 

Lizard Priest was next, but he shook his great hand and said, “No, thank you. I am sated with drink. My stomach rather than my throat is what I wish to satisfy.” 

“Food, eh…?” Dwarf Shaman muttered, stroking his beard thoughtfully then looking at the panoply of vendors by the gate. 

It was already late afternoon, the sun starting to sink in the sky. There might have been someone there selling lunches, but they were probably out of stock by now. They would be much more likely to find something to eat when they got inside the capital. 

“You know, I’ve heard it said that they sell a lot of cheese in the capital,” Dwarf Shaman said. 

“Oh-ho,” came the response from…Goblin Slayer, who had been listening silently to the party’s conversation. He had ably drunk the posca through the visor of his helmet in one or two gulps. “That is very interesting to hear.” 

His absolute seriousness elicited a laugh from the entire party. Even the attendant in the carriage had a hand to her mouth to cover her smile. 

The only one who wasn’t laughing was Sword Maiden. She was squeezing the sword and scales on her lap. 

“Is something the matter, milady?” 

“No…,” Sword Maiden said, shaking her head as if startled out of her reverie. “…No, it’s nothing.” 

“If you say so, milady…” 

Sword Maiden looked away from the window, staring up at the carriage ceiling and letting out an anxious little sigh. 

And here I thought any girlish emotions had dried up long ago. 

“…It’s quite difficult, isn’t it?” 

That was when it happened. 

In the carriage, Sword Maiden’s gaze moved again, while atop the vehicle, High Elf Archer’s ears twitched. 

Wheels could be heard in the distance. Soldiers’ voices. The crowd shifted uneasily, opening a path to the gate. 

Scything through the sea of people came a carriage pulled by two horses. The golden engraving on the vehicle and the lion crest flying aloft showed that it belonged to the royal family. 

The horses were of course the best available. Gorgeous steeds, rippling with muscles. Then there were the soldiers accompanying the carriage—knights all, every spot of armor sparkling! The fine metal breastplates and helms, the spears and swords, made them look like fairy-tale heroes, and one needn’t have been a child to be taken by the sight. The soldiers could not have been further removed from the adventurers who had to come tramping many miles across open country on foot. 

“Wow…,” Priestess breathed, her jaw hanging open, and who could blame her? 

“That’s getting to be a familiar look on you.” High Elf Archer giggled. “But that would explain why we’ve been waiting so long!” Her expression was suddenly as dark as it had been amused. 

“One or two good arrows could teach them a lesson,” she muttered under her breath, and Priestess quickly waved her staff at the elf. “N-no, you can’t do that…!” 

“Come on, I know that,” High Elf Archer snorted. “They’re packing serious magical protection besides.” 

Does that mean she would take a shot if they didn’t…? Priestess thought gloomily. 

The crazed elf ignored the frowning cleric. “Anyway,” she went on, “it looks like the king’s been out and about. I wonder what was going on?” 

“Taxes.” The reply was brusque and clear. Goblin Slayer gave it in a quiet voice, almost as if he were talking to himself. “It is time for the harvest. The king goes in person to visit areas where he has no local representatives, or where an uprising seems likely.” 

“Huh. You seem to know a lot about it.” 

“I come from a farming village.” 

Wha? Was it Priestess or Sword Maiden who let out the sound of surprise? 

They must have been picturing this man with his grimy helmet and cheap-looking leather armor tending to a field someplace. 

Oh, but I guess he really does help out on that farm he lives on… Priestess nodded to herself, a thoughtful finger to her lips. “It’s all right,” she said, “I think that suits you!” 

“I see.” 

Once the king’s carriage was through the gate, the soldiers appeared to relax a little. They didn’t have to be quite as faultlessly vigilant as before. The line of people waiting for admittance to the city started moving more smoothly. 

“Still,” High Elf Archer said, squinting her eyes against the wind as their vehicle finally began to move. “That was about as fancy a carriage as I’ve ever seen. And it looked like he had half the army with him.” 

“Royalty’s hardly going to travel humbly and alone, now, is it?” Dwarf Shaman replied, working his stubby arms and legs as he jogged beside the carriage. As a dwarf, he knew a thing or two about ornamentation. Stroking his long white beard, he smiled knowingly. “For them, though, it’s not luxury—it’s a necessary expense.” 

“What, all that?” 

“How would you feel if your chief or whoever was living in a dead tree, dressed in rags?” 

“…” High Elf Archer’s ears drooped as she pictured the scene. “…Guess I wouldn’t like that much.” 

“And then if he went around by himself, begging people to hand over tax money?” 

“They’d knock him down flat.” 

“Now you’re getting the idea. It’s the job of their type to go big.” 

Pattering along nearby, Priestess gave a small sigh. “I guess it’s not easy being important.” 

In her own life, she had seen the Mother Superior of the temple hard at work, and she herself had once born the responsibility of performing the offertory dance at a festival. She almost couldn’t imagine work more difficult still. 

But there are people who do it. 

She glanced in the window of the carriage beside which she walked. Sword Maiden was sitting there, her slight smile undisturbed, her voluptuous body still filling the seat. Somehow, Priestess found it difficult to read Sword Maiden’s emotions from her face. 

She doesn’t even have a helmet like Goblin Slayer. 

“Man, it must suck to be the king.” 

“Says the princess!” 

High Elf Archer waved a dismissive hand from atop the carriage, her comment provoking a grumble from Dwarf Shaman. 

It was all just like normal. Priestess found it helped her relax, to know such things didn’t change, even within sight of the capital’s walls. 

She giggled, and in response, Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in his head. “Our own adventuring collectives are funded by taxes.” His tone was lighthearted, but he sounded a bit like he was delivering a sermon. “And without our organization, we adventurers would be nothing but unemployed ruffians.” 

We should be grateful, seemed to be his message. 

It made sense to her: Lizard Priest was a rather intimidating figure, and there were those among the lizardmen who had besmirched themselves with Chaos. The whole race of them were close to being Non-Prayer Characters, a status that must have brought its own burdens. 

“Lucky they don’t have a tax on ear length,” Dwarf Shaman offered. 

High Elf Archer snorted in response then muttered jokingly that taxes were all well and good. She flicked her long ears pointedly then grinned and said, “Or…a barrel surcharge, maybe?” 

“Ha! They’d invite a rebellion, I’d say!” 

“Quiet, both of you,” Goblin Slayer said, interrupting them. “We’re approaching the gate.” 

Hmm? Priestess tilted her head in surprise. It was unusual for him to be alert to anything but goblins. 

As they approached the walls, she could see they were surrounded by a massive, deep, dry moat. If the forces of Chaos attacked, they would be under assault from the castle’s archers the whole time they were climbing into and out of this ditch. A great bridge, attached to the castle gate with chains, currently allowed entry across the moat. 

Naturally, an interrogatory voice stopped them. “Halt! Let’s see some identification.” 

Lizard Priest tugged on the reins, pulling the horses to a stop, and slowly let his huge body down from the driver’s bench. 

A soldier, standing there in armor polished to a shine, clutched a spear in one hand. It took no more than a glance to see that he had better equipment than these adventurers. 

I guess he ought to—he’s dressed for war, Priestess thought. 

Unlike adventurers, who could afford to fight only when the mood or the need took them, soldiers had to be ready for anything at any time, even in moments of peace. 

Priestess pulled out the rank tag hanging from a chain around her neck. “Will this do, sir?” 

General travelers needed an official travel pass, but presumably proof of membership in a trade guild would do as well. 

“Can you write?” the soldier inquired, taking a quick glance at Priestess’s tag, to which she nodded. This was the first time she had ever been subject to such an interrogation, and while she was nervous, she was also definitely curious. 

The soldier produced a thick book containing line after line of people’s names and where they were staying. 

“Put your name and destination here, then.” 

“Yes, sir. Er…may I write that I’m here on bodyguard work?” 

“If you’re an adventurer.” 

Priestess, still somewhat ambivalent, took a feather pen and ink and inscribed a series of rough but careful characters. 

More people were coming and going in the capital than she could ever have imagined. If they needed manpower to oversee all of it… well, then it was no wonder the army needed taxes to support it. 

“I see you’ve also got a dwarf, an elf, and…a lizardman?” 

“Indeed, sir,” Lizard Priest said, putting his palms together. “I believe you will find my name difficult to pronounce, but perhaps you do not mind?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine… Not that unusual with other tribes and races.” 

“Then, if I may excuse myself.” A rough, scaly hand appeared, and Priestess politely offered him the pen and book with a smile. 

High Elf Archer, watching Lizard Priest write with unexpected facility, flicked her ears. “Okay, me next! I’ll even be nice enough to write for the dwarf!” 

“What a child,” Dwarf Shaman said in annoyance, but nonetheless, he stood by and watched High Elf Archer write his name in the unique, flowing script of the elves. 

So they submitted one by one to the entry inspection. The soldiers didn’t seem especially on guard; perhaps they were simply used to demi-humans by now. Or perhaps the unexpected was the most normal thing of all when it came to adventurers. 

“………And just what are you?” 

“I am an adventurer,” Goblin Slayer answered shortly, tossing the soldier his rank tag. Perhaps he had resigned himself to the idea that showing the tag would be quicker than trying to explain himself… Or maybe he thought this way was the least confusing. 

The soldier caught the tag as it arced through the air and regarded it skeptically. Priestess recognized it as the look of a man trying to sniff out counterfeit currency and thought, If it were a coin, he would bite it. 

“…You’re not trying to pull one over on me, are you?” 

“The Guild has recognized me,” Goblin Slayer said bluntly, unfazed by the man’s sustained suspicion. 

The soldiers looked at one another then held a whispered conference. 

“You aren’t by any chance a dark elf or something, are you?” 

“I’m not,” Goblin Slayer said, raising the visor of his helmet. “And I have an elf in my party.” 

“That ‘elf’ girl could be wearing makeup and stick-on ears for all we know.” 

Hopeless, Priestess thought with a sigh. High Elf Archer shrugged, equally fed up. Was it going a little too far to think maybe he could do with being a bit friendlier? 

You know what, I think that’s exactly what I’ll say. With that thought, Priestess took a step forward and opened her mouth, but— 

“In the name of the Supreme God,” came a sultry voice. It emerged from the carriage window, and not just Priestess, but all the soldiers, turned wide-eyed at the sound of it. “I vouch that he is a Silver-ranked adventurer.” 

“M-milady archbishop…!” 

She was leaning against the window frame, emphasizing the soft curves of her body; the soldiers swallowed and stood up straighter. 

Was there any man alive who wouldn’t be anxious if he were fixed with that smile and those—unseeing—eyes? 

“P-please pardon our indiscretion. You may proceed directly inside!” 

Sword Maiden smiled gently and nodded, but she seemed to be privately sighing inside that abundant chest. Priestess, for her part, felt she could sympathize. 

They say that privilege is power, but it would be so easy to abuse it… 

Sword Maiden, however, let none of this show on her face. She stretched a thin, beautiful arm out of the carriage, reaching out to one of the soldiers. 

“Procedure is procedure, isn’t it?” she said. “Would you be so kind as to give me the book?” 

“Y-yes, ma’am! Immediately! Y-you there, write faster…!” 

“All right,” Goblin Slayer said, sliding the pen along the page. 

Priestess pouted helplessly, but when she glanced over, she saw his scrawl running along the line. In the letters, just discernible one from the other, she suddenly felt an odd sense of closeness to him. 

“Will this do?” 

“Hrmph, fine…!” The soldier swept up the book and hurriedly offered it through the window of the carriage. Sword Maiden took it and flipped the pages, somehow uncertain; her attendant helped her. 

Priestess took all this in then looked aside to where Goblin Slayer was standing. He stared up at the massive gate as if not really thinking about anything in particular. 

“…Anything wrong?” Priestess asked, looking up at him. 

“No,” Goblin Slayer said with a slow shake of his head. “I was thinking So this is the capital.” 

“Ah…” Priestess followed his gaze upward. The gate was so tall it hurt her neck trying to look all the way up. “…Me, I’ve never been here before. What about you, Goblin Slayer, sir?” 

“It will be my first time as well,” he said softly. “I always wanted to bring my older sister here one day.” 

Priestess felt her heart grow warm. The warmth spread to her cheeks. 

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance sometime,” she said. 

Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment. Then the helmet shook slowly again. “It would be nice to get a chance.” 

Not long after, the paperwork was finally over. Goblin Slayer and the others walked through the gate and entered the capital.