Goblin Slayer - Volume 1 - Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – A Party Of Adventurers

“I should run? What?” The girl standing in the kitchen making breakfast—Cow Girl—was taken aback by the words. “Why?” 

“I found footprints.” She understood, if dimly, what that must mean. Someone who didn’t know any better might assume they were children’s footprints or some faerie prank. 

They were small prints, made by bare feet that had been caked in mud and excrement. The feet of someone who thought nothing of trodding down the grass of the pasture. 

She knew. She trusted him to know what they were. They both knew the time had finally come—however fervently they had wished that it wouldn’t. 

“Goblins.” He—Goblin Slayer—was always talking about goblins. He stood by the breakfast table in his armor and helmet. It was bizarre, yes, but also the same thing he did every day. 

What he did not do every day was abandon his inspection of the farm to come and tell her she should flee. 

She stopped cooking and looked at her hands. What should she say? She reached for the right words. 

“But…you can stop them, can’t you?” She wanted him to say something normal in reply. “Yes,” or “I can,” or “That’s my intention.” She needed to hear that calm tone. 

“No,” he said, “I can’t.” His voice seemed so small. The words sounded like they were being squeezed out of him. 

What? An utterance of confusion and surprise escaped her lips. She turned around suddenly and saw him moving slightly, as if he were trembling. 

“In a cave, I could take on a hundred goblins and win. Somehow.” 

Was he afraid? 

Him? 

Cow Girl’s eyes widened in surprise. 

Their farm was surrounded by a fence, by a stone wall, barriers he had reinforced himself. There were a few traps, too, set to catch intruding animals. 

It was far from perfect. But she knew he had done everything he could to protect them. 

As she looked at him, he glanced down once, as if hesitating, but otherwise, he met her eyes squarely. Or at least, he was trying to. 

“Our enemy is a lord,” he said shortly. 

There were ten different sets of footprints. A horde that could decide to attack a well-defended settlement—and then send out ten goblins to scout the place—must have a leader. A hob or a shaman perhaps, but no. On this scale, it had to be… 

A goblin lord. 

Someone who didn’t know better might scoff at the idea. But he did know better. He knew exactly what it meant. Most likely, the horde was more than a hundred strong. If scouts had been by, the attack would come today, tomorrow at the latest. There was no time to beg for help from the rulers or the state. Even if there had been—the nobles would never inconvenience themselves for mere goblins. 

Goblin Slayer knew all this. Cow Girl did, too. 

Because it had been the same ten years before. 

“A goblin horde…?” A hundred or more vicious, evil creatures coming right for them? 

“I am not a Platinum rank… I’m no hero.” 

They didn’t have the numbers. 

They didn’t have the strength. 

That meant… 

“I can’t.” 

That’s why. 

“You should run. 

“Now, while there’s still time.” 

Cow Girl moved to stand right in front of him. She stared into his helmet. When she was sure he had nothing more to say, she murmured, “All right.” 

“You’re decided?” 

“Yes.” She took a breath in and let it out. There were three things in her heart, three things she needed the courage to say. 

“…I’m sorry.” 

Now that she had said the first of them, the rest would be easier. 

“I won’t leave.” She forced her stiff jaws to work into a smile. She wouldn’t let him ask why. He knew why. “Because you mean to stay, don’t you?” 

He said nothing. 

“See? I knew it. You go quiet when you get caught. You always have.” 

“They won’t just kill you.” 

“Yeah. I know,” she said, affecting calmness. 

His voice sounded cold. He was trying even harder than she was to remain calm. “I was watching.” 

“…I know.” She knew exactly what he meant. Why he fought, why he had kept fighting. She knew all of it. 

“The horde may be driven off someday,” he said, as if talking to a child. “But don’t think you’ll be saved. Even if you live that long, your spirit will be broken.” 

The intent of his words—his attempt to frighten her with the implication I won’t be able to save you, either—was so blatant she almost laughed. 

Not, of course, that he was wrong. He wasn’t wrong, and yet… 

“So run.” 

“I said, no.” Despite the circumstances, she found she was happy to know he was concerned for her. And she was concerned for him. She had to make him understand that. “I don’t want it to happen again.” The words came out of their own accord. “There won’t be anywhere for you to come home to…” And in her heart she added, Or me. 

There was no other place she could call home. It had been ten years, and she wasn’t even sure she could call this place home. 

He stared at her distantly, saying nothing. From somewhere in the depths of the darkness of his helmet, he was watching her. Under his gaze, she felt a sudden embarrassment flare up in her. She looked away and turned red; she stared at the ground. Even as she chided herself for being so silly, the words went on, looking for some kind of excuse. 

“I-I mean, think about it. Even if we escaped, the animals…the cows, the sheep. They’d all be gone.” 

He was silent. 

“After that, I mean…” 

Silent. 

“I see.” Two whispered words. “Yeah,” she murmured back. 

“I’m…really sorry. I know I’m being stubborn.” 

“…Don’t make that face. Relax.” 

She smiled. It was a weak smile, tears beading at the corners of her eyes. She must have looked bad for him to say something like that. 

“I will do what I can,” he said. And then he—Goblin Slayer—turned away from her. 

He shut the door, walked down the hall and outside. He swept his eyes around the farm, carving it into his memory, and then he stepped onto the road to the city. 

This was foolishness. 

She could have escaped to the city. 

Or he could have knocked her out, tied her up, and put her somewhere safe. 

Why hadn’t he done it? Why hadn’t he made her leave? 

There was only one reason. He hadn’t wanted to. 

He didn’t want to make her cry again. 

“I’m supposed to protect girls…” 

“…You.” 

Goblin Slayer had been talking to himself, and yet there was an answer. Standing next to him, arms folded, was the owner of the farm. He had been listening—or perhaps he had simply overheard. 

“You ought to at least say good-bye when you leave,” he spat, glaring at Goblin Slayer, who in fact quite agreed with him. Uncle had taken everything on himself, spared them whatever he could. 

“I’m sorry. I…” 

The owner interrupted Goblin Slayer sharply as he made to apologize. “She’s a good girl.” He squeezed the words from a pinched mouth on a pained face. “She’s grown up so well.” 

“…Yes.” 

“So don’t you make her cry.” 

Goblin Slayer was silent, unsure how to respond. If it had been just a matter of saying something, anything, he could have easily made his tongue move and his lips speak. 

But after long deliberation, he decided to tell only the truth. 

“I will…try.” 

Sometimes he hated that he couldn’t lie. With those murmured words weighing on him, he began to walk. 

The Adventurers Guild was bustling once more. Full of the sound of the crowd, of equipment being readied, of laughter. 

Those who had been away, battling the forces of chaos, had returned. Not everyone, of course, could come back. But no one brought that up. 

Some who were not seen again had fallen to monsters in caves or ruins, or on the plains, or in the mountains. Others had moved on to new lands, or had struck it rich and left adventuring, or otherwise retired. No one sought to discover their fates. Those who did not come back would fade slowly from the collective memory until they were truly gone. That was an adventurer’s end. 

So almost no one looked up when the bell jingled and he walked in, in his cheap leather armor and his helmet, with his small shield strapped to his arm and his ridiculous sword at his hip. 

“Oh, Goblin Slayer,” Spearman said acidly. “Fancy you being alive.” 

A few others reacted in a similar vein. They figured he had been off on a long quest or perhaps taking an extended break. The man who showed up every day asking after goblins had become part of the scenery at the Guild. 

Goblin Slayer walked in with his usual bold stride, but he did not head for his seat by the wall. He didn’t even go to the front desk, but walked directly to the center of the lobby. The adventurers sitting nearby gave him strange looks. They couldn’t see his expression behind his helmet. 

“Excuse me. Please listen to me.” His voice was low and soft, but it carried remarkably well through the ruckus in the Guild Hall. For the first time, most of the people in the hall were looking at him. 

“I have a request.” 

A commotion broke out. 

“Goblin Slayer has a request?” 

“I’ve never heard him talk before.” 

“Doesn’t he always solo?” 

“Naw, he’s got some chick with him these days.” 

“Oh yeah, that slender little thing… Actually, doesn’t he have a bunch of party members now?” 

“A lizardman and a dwarf or something. And here I thought he only cared about goblins.” 

“That elf friend of his is almost as cute as that Priestess!” 

“Geez, maybe I should get into goblin hunting!” 

Goblin Slayer looked at the chattering adventurers one after another. Some he knew by name. Others, not. But he recognized each and every face. 

“A goblin horde is coming. They’re targeting a farm outside town. Probably tonight. I don’t know how many.” He spoke calmly to them, these people he knew. The furor among the adventurers grew louder. “But from the number of scouts, I believe there is a lord among them. In other words, at least a hundred goblins.” 

A hundred goblins! Being led by a lord? 

This was no joke. Most adventurers took on goblin slaying as their first quest. Some failed and paid for their failure with their life. Others, though—be it through luck, strength, or who knew what—survived. Many of them were standing there at that moment. They knew in their bones the terror—or rather, frankly, the difficulty—of goblins. Who would willingly fight a host of those creatures? And with a lord present—a goblin who excelled not in strength or magic, but in leadership. 

This was no ordinary horde. It was a goblin army. 

Even an ignorant beginner would refuse to help. Only Goblin Slayer could happily face down something like that. And even Goblin Slayer, it was clear, was not willing to solo now… 

“There’s no time. Caves are one thing, but in a pitched battle, I can’t do this alone.” Goblin Slayer turned, taking in the entire room. “I need your help. Please.” Then he lowered his head. 

In an instant, whispering voices filled the hall. 

“What are you gonna do?” 

“What do you think?” 

“Goblins, huh…?” 

“He should handle it himself.” 

“Count me out!” 

“Me, too. Those things are filthy.” 

No one said anything directly to Goblin Slayer. He stood with his head bowed, motionless. 

“…Hey.” When another low voice cut through the crowd, the adventurers set to their tumult again. “How do we know you’re right?” It was the spear-wielding adventurer. He fixed Goblin Slayer with an intent gaze. 

Goblin Slayer silently raised his head. 

“This is the Adventurers Guild,” Spearman said, “and we’re adventurers.” 

Goblin Slayer said nothing. 

“We don’t have to listen to you. You want help, file a quest. Offer a reward, get what I’m saying?” Spearman looked at his fellow adventurers for support. 

“He’s right!” someone called. 

“Yeah, we’re adventurers!” 

“You want us to risk our lives for free?” The jeers picked up. 

Goblin Slayer stood where he was and looked around. Not looking for support, exactly. 

At a table deep in the room, High Elf Archer made to stand, her face a furious red, but Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest stopped her. Witch sat on a bench, a slippery smile floating on her face. He glanced at the front desk to see Guild Girl vanishing into a back room in a panic. It occurred to him that he was looking for Priestess. Inside his helmet, he closed his eyes. 

“Yeah, that guy’s right!” 

“How about you tell us what you’ll pay us to fight a hundred goblins?” 

There was no hesitation now. He had given that up ten years ago. Goblin Slayer answered, calmly and clearly: 

“Everything.” 

The Guild Hall fell silent. 

Everyone knew what he meant by that word. 

“Everything that I have,” he said calmly. 

If any adventurer fights with me against a hundred goblins, he or she may ask for anything or everything. 

Spearman squared his shoulders. “So what if I told you to back off Guild Girl and let me have her?” he asked with a snort. 

“She is not mine,” Goblin Slayer replied with absolute seriousness. He ignored the whisper that ran through the crowd, calling him unable to take a joke. “All that I have,” he said, “that is mine to give. My equipment, my wealth, my knowledge, my time. And…” 

“Your life?” 

Goblin Slayer nodded yes. “Even my life.” 

“So if I say die, what will you do?” Spearman asked. He sounded exasperated, like he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

They thought they knew how he would answer. But after a long pause, he said, “No. I cannot do that.” 

No, of course not. The tension in the air lessened ever so slightly. This guy might not be quite right in the head, but even he was afraid to die. 

“If I died, there is someone who would weep over my death. And I have promised not to make that person cry.” 

Adventurers who had been listening with bated breath looked at one another. 

“So my life is not mine to give, either.” 

Spearman swallowed heavily. He glared at Goblin Slayer. At the metal helmet that stood between him and the expression behind it. He met Goblin Slayer’s eyes in spite of the mask. 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking.” 

Goblin Slayer said nothing. 

“I get that you’re serious.” 

“Yes.” He nodded quietly. “I am.” 

“Damn it all!” Spearman said, tearing at his hair. He began to pace back and forth in front of Goblin Slayer, tapping the floor with the butt of his spear. The agonized moment stretched on and on. Finally, Spearman heaved a sigh and said in a voice heavy with resignation, “What would I do with your life, anyway? …But you owe me one hell of a drink.” 

He pounded his fist once against Goblin Slayer’s leather chest plate. 

Goblin Slayer tottered. The steel helmet looked vacantly at Spearman. 

Spearman stared back at him. Got a problem? “A Silver-ranked adventurer just took on your goblin-slaying quest. At market rate, no less. You ought to be grateful.” 

“…I am.” Goblin Slayer nodded firmly. “Pardon me. Thank you.” 

“Save it for after we’ve slain some goblins.” Spearman’s eyes widened a bit, and he scratched his cheek uncomfortably. He’d never thought the day would come when he would hear “thank you” from this man. 

“I-I’m with you, too!” A clear voice rang through the Guild Hall. Everyone turned to look at an elven archer who had kicked over her chair as she stood. She quailed under their gaze, her long ears trembling. “I…I’ll slay those goblins with you.” Her courage seemed to well up then, and she walked straight across the room to Goblin Slayer and stuck a finger in his chest. “So…so next time, you have to come on an adventure with me! I found some…some ruins.” 

“Very well.” Goblin Slayer nodded immediately. The elf’s ears stood straight up. “If I survive, I will join you.” 

“Gosh, you didn’t have to say that,” the elf huffed, glaring at the helmet. She spun around. “You’re coming, too, right?” 

The dwarf answered first, sighing as he stroked his beard with a touch of annoyance. “Guess I’ve no choice. But I won’t be bought off with one drink, Beard-cutter. You’d better bring me a whole barrel!” 

“You’ll have it,” Goblin Slayer said. 

“Right, then!” the dwarf exclaimed happily. “And…supposin’ I could join you on your adventure, long-ears?” 

“Of course! We’re party members, aren’t we?” The elf laughed, and after a second, the dwarf joined in. 

“Let it never be said that I would leave my companions behind.” The lizardman stood slowly. He touched the tip of his nose with his tongue. “Nor that I would turn down a friend in need. But speaking of rewards…” 

“Cheese?” 

“Precisely. Ah, I can taste it now!” 

“It is not mine. But it is made on the farm that’s being targeted.” 

“Indeed? All the more reason to destroy those bottom-feeding beasts!” The lizardman’s eyes rolled, and he joined his palms toward Goblin Slayer. The latter understood that this was a form of lizardman humor. 

So four adventurers gathered around Goblin Slayer. 

He didn’t see Priestess anywhere. 

“So, we have five…” 

“No. Six.” Witch stood with a rustling sound. She walked over and stood beside Spearman, hips swaying all the way. “It might well be seven…though, I can’t, be sure,” she said meaningfully; then she drew a long pipe out from her bosom. “Inflammarae.” She spun the pipe around, stuffed some tobacco in it, then lit it with a tap of her finger and took a long breath. The sweet-smelling smoke wafted around the Guild Hall. 

The remaining adventurers babbled excitedly. It wasn’t that they wanted to abandon the farm to destruction. Many of them simply weren’t ready to risk their lives for a pittance. And who could blame them? Everyone values their own lives. 

They just needed one more push… 

“The Guild is— The Guild is offering a quest, too!” 

That push came from an energetic voice. Guild Girl came bounding out of the back room clutching a sheaf of paper. She was breathing hard, her face red, her braids bouncing wildly up and down. 

She began to pile the paper on the front desk. “There is a reward of one gold coin for each goblin you slay. Now’s your chance, adventurers!” 

The crowd gave a collective stir. It was of course the Guild that would provide the money for the reward. The ability to work on a large scale was one of the advantages of such an organization. 

There was no telling how hard Guild Girl had fought to convince her superiors that this was a good idea. 

“Feh. Guess I’m in, then.” An adventurer—the heavily armored warrior—gave his chair a little kick as he stood and took one of the sheets of paper. Knight, seated beside him, looked up at him in surprise. 

“You’re going?” 

“I’m no fan of Goblin Slayer, but hey…money is money.” 

Knight got a devilish grin on her delicate face. “I can’t abide liars. You ought to just admit it’s because he’s the one who drove the goblins out of your hometown.” 

“Hey, keep it to yourself, woman! Anyway, I’ll still get a gold coin per goblin.” 

Me, too. Yeah, count me in. I owe that guy. One by one, the murmurs started; people rose to their feet. 

“And what about you? I thought you hated his guts.” 

“I aspire to be a paladin. When someone asks for help, I’m bound to offer it,” Knight said with a smirk, to which Warrior, in armor, responded with a shrug and a laugh. 

“Aw, well. If you two are going, I guess we’re coming along.” 

“We are?” 

“Now, now, of course we must help!” 

Despite a little arguing, the rest of the armored warrior’s party stood up. 

“Hey…” 

“What?” 

Watching them, the greenhorn warrior they had sparred with many days ago called to the young Cleric. 

“I’ve still never been goblin slaying.” 

“…I guess not. They say it’s dangerous.” 

“But…I’ve got to try it sometime, right?” 

“…You’re hopeless,” she said. But…if you must. And the boy held out his hand to her. 

Somebody watching them gave a short sigh. “I became an adventurer the same day he did. Guess this is what you’d call fate.” 

“If I didn’t hear that voice asking after goblins every day, it wouldn’t feel right.” 

“I agree. He’s kind of a…fixture here—an institution, you know?” 

“I hate having him around. But…I’d hate not having him around even more.” 

“I was just looking for a way to get some cash. One goblin, one gold, huh? Not bad.” 

“In all my life, I’ve never seen such a weird quest giver,” someone muttered. Someone else nodded. One after another, adventurers rose. 

Yes, they were adventurers. 

They had dreams in their hearts. They had principles. They had ambitions. They wanted to fight for people. 

Maybe they didn’t have the courage to step forward. But they’d been given that little push. There was no more reason to hesitate. 

Goblin slaying? Fine. That was their job. If there was a quest, they would take it. 

Someone raised their sword in the air and cried, “We ain’t party members, and we ain’t friends—but we’re adventurers!” Others joined the shout. Those who did not carry swords raised staves, spears, axes, bows, fists. 

There were beginners. Veterans. Warriors, wizards, clerics, and rogues. There were humans, elves, dwarves, lizardmen, and rheas. The adventurers gathered in the Guild Hall filled the air with their voices, pounded the floor with their feet. 

Goblin Slayer, embraced by their shouts, surveyed the room. His eyes met Guild Girl’s. She was sweating a little, but she gave him a puckish wink. Goblin Slayer bowed his head to her. He felt it was the least he could do. 

“That worked out well.” There was a little giggle. 

He turned around and saw, standing close as a shadow, Priestess. 

Of course she was there. How could she not be? 

“…Yes. It did.” Goblin Slayer nodded. 

That day, perhaps for the first time, there was no shortage of adventurers ready to take on a goblin quest.