Goblin Slayer - Volume 1 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Goblin Slayer

The nest was smack in the middle of a huge field. 

Maybe nest wasn’t even the right word for it. It had a square entrance of white stone that jutted up from the ground, half-buried in the earth. This was no cave. It was clearly man-made: ancient ruins. 

The pale stone caught the light of the fading sun, shimmering red as blood. 

Two goblins stood guard. They were stationed on either side of the entranceway, spears in their hands, poor leather plate covering their bodies. With them was a dog—no, a wolf. 

“GURUU…” 

“GAU!” 

One of the goblins, glancing around, made to sit down and was scolded by the other. The first monster forced himself to stand, yawned widely, and looked at the sun with undisguised hatred. The wolf lay on the ground beside them. Its ears twitched. Wild animals didn’t let down their guard even when they rested. 

The elf saw all this from the bushes not far away. 

“Goblins with a guard dog? You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“It proves this horde has time and resources to spare.” Next to her, Goblin Slayer lay prone on the ground. He was tying a bit of rope to a small rock, his gaze never straying from the goblins. “Stay alert. There must be a lot of them inside.” 

“Just out of curiosity, what if the horde didn’t have extra resources?” 

“Then they wouldn’t keep the dog. They’d eat it.” 

The elf shook her head. She shouldn’t have asked. Lizard Priest laughed soundlessly. 

“Is this safe?” the elf asked. “It’s going to be night soon. Shouldn’t we wait, make our move during the day tomorrow?” 

“It’s early morning for them now. The time is right.” 

“…Fine, then. Here goes.” 

The elf drew an arrow like she drew breath. 

The elves did not use iron. The shafts of their arrows were made of tree branches that naturally had the right size and shape; the heads were animal teeth, and for the feathers, they used leaves. 

High Elf Archer’s bow, made of the branch of a great beech tree and strung with spider’s silk, was taller than she was. But she handled it lightly, crouching in the underbrush and fitting an arrow to the string. 

The spider’s silk made a sibilant sound as she pulled it tight. 

“Tell me those things work better than they look,” the dwarf said despairingly. He found he couldn’t trust a bit of wood and leaves. “Please don’t miss! You have a quiver full of arrows, but we’ve got only so many spells.” 

“Hush,” the elf commanded archly. The dwarf obediently shut his mouth. After that, no one said anything. 

The bow bent with the merest sound of straining wood. The wind whistled. The elf moved her long ears ever so slightly. 

The goblin on the right yawned. The elf loosed her arrow. 

It left her bow soundlessly. But it appeared to have landed several paces to the right of the goblins. 

Dwarf Shaman gave a frank cluck of his tongue. The elf, though, was smiling. She already had a second arrow in her hand. 

In an instant, the grounded arrow drew a large arc through the air, passing through the goblin on the right and taking part of his spine with it. It continued into the cheek of the goblin on the left; it encountered his eye socket and drove straight through. 

The wolf leaped up, not sure what had happened but opening its mouth to howl a warning— 

“Too late!” 

The elf loosed the second arrow almost too quickly to see. The wolf flew back. It was only then that the two goblins collapsed to the ground like twin sacks of bricks, dead. 

It was a spectacular display of skill, far beyond human capacity. 

“That was amazing!” Priestess looked admiringly at the elf. 

“Indeed,” Lizard Priest said, his large eyes growing even larger. “But what did you do? Is it some kind of sorcery?” 

The elf gave a proud chuckle and shook her head. “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” Her ears bobbed knowingly. 

“That’s a bold statement with me standing here,” said Dwarf Shaman, who was quite well versed in both technology and magic. 

“Two… Strange.” Goblin Slayer stood up from the bushes. When the elf’s arrow missed, he had been planning to fling his rock at the enemy instead. 

“What? Got a problem?” the elf said, thinking he was referring to her archery. 

He shook his head with a hint of exasperation. “They were afraid. Have you ever known a diligent goblin?” 

“You don’t think they’re worried because they’re next door to an elf forest?” 

“We can hope,” he said, and with that halfhearted answer, he strode over to the goblins and knelt down to inspect their corpses. 

“Oh, um…” Priestess seemed to guess what he was doing. “Sh-shall I h-help…?” she asked in a thin voice, a stiff smile on her face. 

“No need,” Goblin Slayer said bluntly. Priestess let out a sigh of relief. Her face had gone a bit pale. 

“What are you doing?” The elf, whose curiosity was naturally piqued by this exchange, walked over to Goblin Slayer and looked down. 

A knife had appeared in his hand. He dug it into the goblin’s corpse and casually cut out the creature’s guts. 

The elf stiffened and tugged at his arm. “H-how can you do that to them? I know you hate goblins, but you don’t have to—” 

“They have an excellent sense of smell.” 

“…Huh?” 

Goblin Slayer was calm as he delivered this answer that was no answer. He daubed his gauntlets with blood, then pulled a liver out from one of the bodies. 

“Especially for the scent of women, children, and elves.” 

“Wa…wait a second. Orcbolg. You can’t possibly mean…” 

In reply, Goblin Slayer wrapped the liver in a hand cloth and squeezed. 

High Elf Archer, finally understanding where he got the stains on his armor, went whiter than the stones that towered over them. 

Moments later, the dead guards hidden safely in the bushes, the party advanced toward the ruins. The chalky walls surrounded a narrow pathway that seemed to slope gently downward. 

Goblin Slayer was in the lead. With his sword he tapped the floor and walls. Then he tossed his pet rock forward, saw that it landed safely, and reeled it back in. 

“No traps.” 

“Hmm. I speculate, but this place appears to be a temple.” 

“It looks like this field was the site of a battle back during the Age of the Gods,” Priestess said. She brushed her hand across a carving in the wall. “Maybe it’s a fortress or something from back then… Although the construction certainly seems human…” 

“First a home for soldiers, now for goblins. Which is crueler?” Lizard Priest pondered grimly, joining his hands. 

“Speaking of cruel,” the dwarf chimed in, “are you going to be all right, long-ears?” 

“Errgh… I think I’m gonna be sick,” High Elf Archer whimpered. Her traditional hunting gear was covered in gore. The liquid that had come spurting out of the goblin’s liver coated her hair and ran down her body. Even the dwarf lacked the heart to tease her in this state. 

“Get used to it,” Goblin Slayer said from next to the elf. On his left, his shield was fixed to his arm, and in his hand was a torch. In his right hand, his sword glinted. The elf shot him a glare as she changed her great bow for a smaller one, but the tears held back in the corners of her eyes and the pitiful droop of her ears made her less than intimidating. 

“When we get back, I hope you remember this!” 

“I’ll remember,” he said shortly. 

The torch guttered. The elves’ wards seemed to extend even here. Or perhaps, many, many moons ago, the elves had lived on this land. 

To Goblin Slayer, the real problem was that this limited his ability to attack with fire. 

“You humans are downright inconvenient,” the dwarf said, patting his mustache. Of the party members, Goblin Slayer alone carried a torch. The dwarf, elf, and lizardman all had varying degrees of night vision. 

“I know. That’s why we have our tricks.” 

“Well, I wish you’d think of some better ones,” High Elf Archer said dejectedly. 

Priestess, feeling quite sorry for her, spoke up in an attempt to offer some comfort. “Um, it’ll come out when you wash…mostly.” 

“You understand my pain.” 

“I’m used to it,” she said with a weak smile. Her vestments were, once again, covered in goblin juices. Priestess stood in the middle of their formation, lightly gripping her sounding staff. The path was wide enough for two to walk abreast, so High Elf Archer and Goblin Slayer went side by side in front of Priestess, while Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest came behind. She was Porcelain-ranked, after all. She was the weakest and most fragile member of their party. They had to protect her. 

Despite this, and despite Priestess’s touch of an inferiority complex, none of the others saw her as a burden. Every spell caster could use only so many spells, so many times. None of them were Platinum-ranked adventurers who could use their magic or miracles dozens of times a day. Having a healer in the group might mean someone had a spell left when it was needed most. 

Or rather, one who could conserve their spells was one who could survive… 

Priestess watched her companions in attentive silence. She held her staff loosely. 

It’s almost like any other adventure… 

And suddenly, she was walking in front of Wizard again. 

Just like that first time… 

With trembling lips, Priestess recited the name of the Earth Mother several times. She hoped nothing would happen on this quest. But she knew it was a futile wish. 

The adventurers’ footsteps echoed weirdly from the pavestones on the path. There was no sign of goblins. Yet. 

“The underground and I are old friends, but I don’t like it here,” the dwarf said, wiping sweat from his forehead. They had been proceeding on a slight downward diagonal since they entered the ruins. The path looked straight to the naked eye, but actually curved very slowly, forming a corkscrew. The turning and the descending played havoc with the adventurers’ sense of balance. 

“It almost seems like we’re in a tower,” Priestess said, exhaling. 

“Some of the old fortresses were indeed built in such a shape,” the lizardman said. At the rear end of the party, his tail swung back and forth. 

“I wish we could’ve come here when it wasn’t infested with goblins,” the elf whispered. “I would’ve liked to look around a little.” 

Sometime later, the slope ended and the path split off left and right. Both routes looked identical. 

“Wait,” the elf said sharply. 

“What is it?” 

“Don’t move,” she said to Goblin Slayer. 

She crawled along the ground. Her fingers reached into the space between the paving stones just ahead of them, seeking something. 

“An alarm?” he asked. 

“Probably. I noticed it because it’s brand-new, but it would have been easy to miss. Everyone be careful.” 

The spot the elf indicated was indeed raised a little. Step on it, and a noisemaker would sound somewhere, alerting the goblins to the intruders. 

Priestess swallowed heavily. The long, twisting slope had thrown off her concentration and her senses. She could see the trap now that it had been pointed out to her, but without the elf’s warning, she would surely have missed it. 

“Goblins. Impudent beasts,” the dwarf spat, patting his beard. 

Wordlessly, Goblin Slayer cast the torchlight on the floor, then down each of the passageways left and right, looking closely at the walls. There was nothing there, save for the soot of the lamps once used by the fortress’s long-vanished residents. 

“What’s wrong?” Priestess asked. 

“No totems.” 

“Oh, you’re right…” Only Priestess understood Goblin Slayer’s remark. The other party members listened in puzzlement. But Goblin Slayer said nothing more. 

He’s thinking. Priestess looked at the party and realized it fell to her to explain. 

“Um, in other words, that means there’s no, um, goblin shamans here.” 

“No spell caster?” the elf said with a happy clap. “Lucky us.” 

“No.” 

The lizardman let out a hissing breath. “Are you, then…troubled by the absence of spell casters, milord Goblin Slayer?” 

“Yes.” He nodded, then indicated the alarm with the tip of his sword. “Your average goblin would never come up with something like this.” 

“Long-ears said it was brand-new. That means it’s not part of the fort’s original defenses.” 

“I thought about tripping it to draw them out,” Goblin Slayer muttered. “But I think we had better not.” 

“Milord Goblin Slayer, you spoke before of your experience with such extensive nests,” the lizardman said, taking care that his tail did not drag across the alarm. “How did you deal with them?” 

“I flushed out the inhabitants and annihilated them one at a time. Sometimes I used fire. Sometimes I directed a river into the nest. There are various ways.” Standing next to him, the elf looked aghast. “But we can’t use those here.” He turned to High Elf Archer. “Can you make out any footprints?” 

“I’m sorry. In a cave, maybe, but on stone like this…” 

“Let the dwarf have a look,” Dwarf Shaman said, coming over. 

“Fine, but watch out for the alarm.” 

“I’m stout, not stupid. I’ll be careful.” 

The elf politely made way. He stooped in front of the party. He walked back and forth across the bar of the T-shaped intersection. He kicked the stone floor, looking at it intently. A moment later, he gave his beard a confident stroke. “I see it. Their little roost is to the left.” 

Priestess was confused. “How can you tell?” 

“By the wear on the floor. They’re coming from the left and returning from the right, or coming from the left and turning to go outside.” 

“Are you sure?” Goblin Slayer said. 

“Of course I’m sure. I’m a dwarf,” Dwarf Shaman replied, pounding his belly. 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer murmured, falling silent. 

“Is something wrong, milord Goblin Slayer?” the lizardman said. 

“We’ll go this way,” Goblin Slayer said, and with his sword, he pointed…to the right. 

“Didn’t Stumpy just say the goblins are to the left?” the elf said. 

“Yes. But if we go that way, we’ll be too late.” 

“Too late for what?” 

“You’ll see,” he said with a calm nod. 

Not long after starting down the rightward path, they were assaulted by a choking stench. The air was thick and cloying. An acrid taste lingered in their mouths with every breath. 

“Hrk…” The dwarf pinched his nose. 

“Urgh…” The lizardman’s eyes rolled grimly in his head. 

The elf, too, unconsciously took a hand from her bow and covered her mouth. 

“Wha…what is that? Is it safe to breathe?” she groaned. 

Priestess’s teeth were chattering. She knew this smell. 

“Don’t fight it. Breathe through your nose. You’ll get used to it soon.” Goblin Slayer didn’t look back but only walked resolutely farther down the passage. 

The party hurried to keep up. Even Priestess somehow managed to continue. 

The source of the stench was close. They came up against a rotting wooden door that seemed placed to section off part of the ruins. 

“Hmph.” Goblin Slayer gave it a solid kick. With an agonized creak, the door abandoned its duty and collapsed. The foul liquid that covered the floor splashed up as the door fell into it. 

This was where the goblins put every manner of refuse. Scraps of food, including bones with bits of flesh clinging to them. Excrement. Corpses. Everything. The formerly white walls had turned a grimy crimson with the piles of trash. 

Amid it all, they could make out a strand of flaxen hair and a leg attached to a chain. Four wasted limbs bore hideous scars. The tendons had been cut. 

It was an elf. 

Emaciated, buried in filth, the left half of her body nonetheless still showed the beauty her people were renowned for. 

The right half was a different story. 

Priestess thought the elf looked like she had been covered in bunches of grapes. Her delicate, pale skin was invisible under bluish swelling. Her eye and her breast were wrecked. 

The goal was unmistakable: torture for torture’s sake. 

Oh, not again… The thought rose in Priestess’s mind and stuck there. 

“Huegh… Eurghhh…” 

Right next to Priestess—seemingly so far away—High Elf Archer was adding the contents of her stomach to the waste that covered the floor. 

“What is this?” The dwarf stroked his beard, but couldn’t conceal the horror on his face. 

“Milord Goblin Slayer?” Even the normally inscrutable Lizard Priest wore an expression of transparent disgust. 

“You’ve never seen this before?” 

At his quiet question, High Elf Archer nodded, not bothering to wipe her mouth. Tears dribbled down her cheeks, and her ears hung almost flat against her head. 

“I see.” He nodded. 

“…illl… …ki… killll…” Priestess looked up suddenly at the plaintive groan. The imprisoned elf. She was still alive! Priestess rushed over to her and held her up, ignoring the filth that immediately covered her hands. 

“Give me a potion!” 

“No, she is too much weakened. It will only catch in her throat.” The lizardman had followed Priestess over to the prisoner and was inspecting her wounds with his scaled claws. “She is not wounded fatally, but she is in peril of dying from exhaustion. She needs a miracle.” 

“Right!” Priestess drew her staff close to her chest with one hand and placed the other on the chest of the wounded elf. “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, lay your revered hand upon your child’s wounds.” 

Watching their healer bestow the goddess’s miracle out of the corner of his eye, Goblin Slayer approached High Elf Archer. 

“Do you know her?” 

Still crouched and shaking helplessly, the elf shook her head. “Most…most likely she was like me…a ‘rootless’ elf who…became an adventurer.” 

“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded and then with his bold stride walked toward the prisoner. His sword was in his hand. The lizardman gave him a wary look. 

“Oh…!” 

We’re out of time. 

Priestess blanched and rose. “H-hold it right there!” She stood with her arms spread in front of the prostrate elf. Goblin Slayer did not stop. 

“Move.” 

“No! I…I won’t!” 

“I don’t know what illusion you’re harboring now,” Goblin Slayer said in exasperation. His tone didn’t change. It was merciless, calm. “But I came here for one purpose: to slay goblins.” 

His sword fell. 

There was a geyser of blood and a scream. 

“Three.” 

The thud of a body. It was a goblin, the sword through his brain. He dropped the poisoned dagger he had been holding as he died. No one had noticed him hiding in the pile of trash behind the imprisoned elf. 

No, Priestess thought, shaking her head. That wasn’t true. He had noticed. And the prisoner, too. 

“Ki…kill them…all…” The elf adventurer brought up a mouthful of blood along with her words. 

Goblin Slayer set his foot against the corpse and pulled out his sword. He used the goblin’s tunic to wipe glittering fat off the blade. 

“That’s my intention,” he answered calmly. No one else said anything. 

What had this man seen in his life? What was he? The people standing in that filth-riddled room finally felt a glimmer of understanding. 

Priestess recalled Witch’s appraisal of Goblin Slayer. And her words: “Let it be, your own decision.” 

Now she understood clearly what that meant. Every adventurer, even those who didn’t survive their first quest, would experience killing and death. They would encounter awful and terrible things. Villages and cities ravaged by monsters would not be an unusual sight for them. 

But there was a logic behind it all. From bandits and hoodlums, to dark elves and dragons, even slimes—all had a reason for how they acted. 

Goblins alone were different. They had no reason. Only evil. Evil toward humans, toward every other living thing. To hunt goblins was to be confronted with that evil over and over again. 

That was no adventure. And someone who chose to go down that path—they were no adventurer. They were him. 

A man in grimy leather armor and a dirty helmet, carrying a sword that seemed almost too long to wield. 

“Goblin Slayer…” 

Amid the dark and the stench, someone whispered his name.