Goblin Slayer - Volume 10 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – A Word From Our Sponsors

Humans are a strange lot: The moment anything happens, they hope and expect for everything to change. 

A human becomes an adventurer, say, and they immediately want to go on a great quest that will decide the fate of the world. Or they learn the sword and expect that the next day they’ll be a renowned master known even in the realm of the dead. Wizards seek secrets of worlds yet unknown to man, while poets look to be household names in the capital… 

These are perfectly ordinary dreams, not to be mocked or sneered at, but they are also not realistic. Why should things change immediately just because something has happened? 

Priestess had been an adventurer for two and some odd years now, and she had come to understand and accept this—or she thought she had. 

“Siiiigh…” 

But somehow as she went from the Guild to the Temple of the Earth Mother, then from there back to the Guild through the morning mist, she found nothing but sighs on her lips. After all, she had thought the situation was different now. Goblin Slayer had taken the matter in hand. Everyone was helping. Even the other adventurers. And yet it had been days now—and nothing had changed. The rumors kept spreading. Nothing else seemed to move. 

She went from the Guild to the Temple and back virtually every day, and today her footsteps felt even heavier than usual. Once again, it wasn’t as if anything specific had happened. It was just that the unyielding accumulation of the days had begun to weigh upon Priestess’s narrow shoulders. 

Today, like every other day, everyone at the Temple had greeted her warmly (well, everyone except High Elf Archer, who was still asleep). Dwarf Shaman had calmly given his seal of approval, while Lizard Priest agreed that spending an entire day in thought could be quite a good thing. What they were saying was precisely this: that they would continue to guard the Temple despite the fact that they were receiving no reward for it. 

Then there was her “older sister,” who welcomed her with a smile and saw her off the same way: Sister Grape. The rumors must have reached her ears by now, but she showed no sign of it. Even though Priestess herself could think only of Goblin Slayer. 

“Hooo…” Another sigh. The days since they had visited those rogues’ hideout felt like weeks. She was hard-pressed to get up in the morning and afraid to go to sleep at night. She just passed the time vacantly, and it was terrible indeed. 

Today, here she was back in front of the Adventurers Guild, with things no different than before. 

Goblin Slayer… 

What was he thinking? That was the question that bubbled up in Priestess’s mind, but she shook her head. She shouldn’t—couldn’t—think such things. Goblin Slayer, the leader of her party, must have had some idea in mind. But she couldn’t just follow blithely after him. That would mean—that would mean nothing had changed from when she had first started adventuring, wouldn’t it? 

Priestess bit her lip, hard, then pushed through the door into the Guild. The sound of the morning bustle slammed into her. 

“Well, welcome back!” This very first greeting came from Guild Girl, absorbed in some kind of work at the reception desk. She had surely heard the rumors as well but, perhaps out of consideration for Priestess, never mentioned them. 

Priestess, always grateful for this small act of decency, answered, “Thank you,” and did her best to smile. 

“Goblin Slayer is already here, you know—just in case you were looking for him.” 

“Oh, thank you. Will it be another day of—?” 

Goblin slaying? 

The words died on Priestess’s lips as she looked toward the waiting area. He was easy to spot even among the press of adventurers looking for quests. He was the one on the bench in the corner of the room, just where he always was, wearing grimy leather armor and a cheap-looking metal helmet. 

“Hey,” she heard, and “Yo,” and “Goblins again today?” and “Give ’em hell,” and on and on. In her two years or so as an adventurer, the young girl who had never known anything but the Temple of the Earth Mother had cultivated a surprising number of relationships. She didn’t always know their names or even what they were really like. But these men and women were all adventurers like her. Her colleagues came in many races, as well, and Priestess bowed respectfully to each one with a polite “Good morning.” There were former novices, newcomers who showed great promise, all of them adventurers together… 

Am I really one of them…? 

She herself was the least confident about it of all. 

§ 

“Wow, that archbishop lady sure talks a good game!” 

“I thought for sure they were gonna turn us away at the front door,” Heavy Warrior said with a touch of exasperation as he watched the priestess patter away. 

He looked at Female Knight with an expression that said, You almost had me thinking you were a real knight of the Supreme God in there , but she didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy shaking her head vigorously. 

“And of course she would, what with us talking to her about goblin slaying. More fool me for doubting her!” 

“Y’think?” Heavy Warrior said, more or less ignoring her. 

What mattered was that the Temple of the Supreme God had decided to act and that this action seemed like it could lead to an adventure that would earn them some money. After all, a person couldn’t live on adventure alone—they needed to eat, too. Money was important. Not the only thing, but it mattered. All the more so when you were carting along two kids whose advancement was delayed because they’d lied about their ages. 

Money in the hand meant food in the mouth. A bed to sleep in. Fresh, new equipment and weapons. Items when you needed them. With a generous enough donation—which was to say, with enough money—one might even be granted the miracle of Resurrection, by which one could be recalled from across the river of death. You could literally buy life, up to a point. 

Some people preached austerity and frugality, but this had never made much sense to Heavy Warrior. Money wasn’t to be taken lightly, but so long as you had it, it made your life easier, and you should use it when you needed it. 

Maybe I ought to make a donation to the Temple of the God of Trade. The thought crossed his mind even though he didn’t particularly believe in the gods. Heavy Warrior turned to his friends. 

“How’d it go for you?” 

“Big ol’ bust.” Spearman waved a discouraged hand as he jogged up, arriving with a backflip. Beside him was Witch, smoking her pipe, maybe listening to the conversation, maybe not. 

It was all perfectly ordinary. Maybe it was time to pay taxes, Heavy Warrior thought, setting his own concerns aside for the time being. 

“I asked an acquaintance of mine who handles city adventures, but it didn’t get me anywhere, at least not real quick,” Spearman said. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. We’re hack-and-slash specialists, man. This isn’t our game.” 

His confident declaration provoked a quiet “Heh, heh” from Witch. 

“Guess it only makes sense,” Female Knight offered. “Each of us has a role we’re best at.” 

“Hmm,” Heavy Warrior grunted. “You manage to say something significant every once in a while, in spite of yourself.” 

“Dumbass, everything I say is significant.” 

“If you say so,” Heavy Warrior replied with a tired wave. 

Female Knight ignored him. “Listen up,” she said, assuming an air of importance. “Anyone who says he can do it all himself is just an idiot who doesn’t see the real truth.” 

“Hoh.” Spearman grinned. “Little early in the day to start sermonizing, isn’t it?” But anyway, he needed some way to kill time until the morning quest papers came out. And he didn’t see his sweet Guild Girl anywhere. 

“Mm,” Female Knight responded with confidence. “It’s never too early to learn something new—and I’m about to teach you.” 

“What if I don’t wanna be taught, O fair knight?” 

“Let’s start with a hypothetical. Suppose there was a Bronze adventurer who could cleave heaven and earth with his sword, who destroyed a Dark God, but who never went past Bronze rank because it would be too much trouble.” 

“Who would do that?” 

“Let’s just say.” 

This seemed to beggar Spearman’s imagination, but he nodded along, despite his distinct sense that even the heroes of the stories were more grounded than this. 

“Just think about it,” Female Knight said. “This adventurer’s clothes, his food, his vegetables, meat, shoes, his inn, and even his very country, are all produced by someone else, are they not?” 

“Yeah, and I’m sure he’s got a lady love—or a lord love, I guess. Anyway, someone who cares about him, plus his parents.” Spearman’s comment was not in particularly good faith. Witch silently kicked him in the shin. He was enough of a man not to shout about it. 

Female Knight didn’t seem to notice: “Right, exactly,” she said, impressed. “Anyone who says they make all those things for themselves is lying through their teeth.” 

“Come, to think of it,” Witch said with some interest, twirling her pipe and then taking a drag, “it is…sometimes said: to make wine, requires a steady beat. If the map of the stars changes, the flavor…of the wine changes, too.” 

A word or two of praise for the goddess’s bountiful bosom is important… and so on. 

Witch recited these words from an ancient sage, and Female Knight replied, “Exactly,” nodding firmly. Even the gods did not act alone. To think of any one person as omnipotent and omniscient was laughable. But Female Knight wasn’t done yet. “So since you can’t do everything, trust others to do what you can’t!” 

“ You don’t trust others; you force others,” Heavy Warrior said, deflating her at the very climax of her speech. “When someone’s got power, whether it’s a god or a devil, it’s their power. They can use it how they like.” 

“But as they say, with great power comes great responsibility…!” 

“Sure, you saved the world, thanks, have a nice day. You want to be a farmer, fine, whatever. The lot of you would get in a fight with a devil if you saw one.” 

To Heavy Warrior, it all seemed very simple, but Female Knight dug in her heels: “Hold on, now.” 

Heavy Warrior half looked at her, smirking, a bit annoyed but altogether familiar with this sort of reaction. “You need to stop putting your gloves on before your helmet. You always have to have someone hold your hair back!” 

“Hrrgh…!” That was a critical hit. Female Knight, struck to the quick, let out a hrk and hagh a few times before she finally seemed to collect herself. “It—it hardly matters, does it not? It’s not as if it’s a great deal of effort!” 

“Not saying it is. Just saying you’re acting like you don’t think this applies to you.” Heavy Warrior shrugged, Female Knight continued to grind her teeth, and Spearman just looked at the two of them, not quite rolling his eyes. 

Witch let her gaze drift toward the ground. Either of them could be on either side of this argument. She laughed. They just didn’t give up. 

“What I’m trying to say is that a great hero is a great hero exactly because they’re able to make this distinction…!” 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” 

At length, Witch began to let the conversation wash over her, turning to her own thoughts. Ultimately, a conversation like this meant nothing. It was simply ordinary banter. The world was so big, and what we saw was by no means all of it; things could be moving in places unexpected. The very heart of magic was to see through all of this, to pierce to the truth. 

What was happening? What would become of them? Even if she was looking at only the barest edge, she could extrapolate from there. 

And it led her to… 

“I, do…wonder how, things will go…” 

One thing was certain: It was going to be another interesting adventure. 

§ 

“Uh, um, g-good morning, Goblin Slayer, sir…,” Priestess said as she came pattering up to him. The response from the pathetic-looking adventurer was the same as ever: “Yes.” 

It was an everyday occurrence here at the Guild in the frontier town: He was the first to arrive in the morning, yet the last to ever take a quest. Adventurers who had been around awhile grew used to the sight of the suit of armor sitting motionless in a corner of the waiting area. Newcomers and novices often goggled at first, but they, too, soon ceased to pay him any mind. To them, an adventurer who specialized in goblin slaying wasn’t worth paying attention to. 

In recent years, he had appeared to gather something of a party and began regularly working with them, but right now he was alone—no, with just one other person. His dwarf, his elf, and his lizardman hadn’t been seen for the past few days. 

“Goblin slaying again, sir…?” Priestess asked as she hesitantly took a seat beside him. That emotion in her voice—was it awe or just hesitation? 

How long had it been since the two of them started handling quests together? Not a short time. Several years. Although whether that was a long time or not depended on whom you asked… 

“Yes.” The voice of the adventurer called Goblin Slayer was low, his words short and dispassionate. “After we see how things are going.” 

“…Right.” Priestess nodded firmly, and with that, the conversation ended. Idle chatter from the other adventurers filled the air, meaningless waves of sound reaching her ears. Silence could be hard to endure, but with enough noise to fill in the gaps, maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

After sitting there uncomfortably for a few moments, though, her little behind shifting on the seat, Priestess opened her mouth. “Uh, um…” 

“What is it?” 

“I-is there, uh, anything that…needs to be done?” 

It was an ambiguous utterance, no actor mentioned at all, and even as she spoke, Priestess appeared to sink into embarrassment. It wasn’t clear at first what she was embarrassed about. Was it the sheer lack of clarity of her question, or was she perhaps ashamed of herself for not having taken any action? 

Goblin Slayer grunted once, then continued quietly, “I’ve already played my hand.” 

“Wha…?” Priestess looked at him, startled, like a child who’d been set back on her heels. 

“Not that I have actually done anything yet,” he said by way of preface. “But when you’re hunting a deer, sometimes it’s best not to move.” 

“A deer…?” 

“Until your quarry thinks you are just a tree or rock by the roadside.” 

That was when you loosed your bolt, a single arrow that would pierce a vital point—or so he claimed he had been told. 

“Huh,” Priestess breathed, in a combination of admiration and annoyance. Then she put a thin finger to her chin with a thoughtful “Hmm,” after which she continued soberly, “You know a lot of different things, don’t you?” 

“I will make use of anything I can,” Goblin Slayer said, sounding something more than humble. “Ultimately, I am not really a ranger, a scout, or even a warrior.” 

“…But still, you know a lot,” Priestess repeated. She counted off on her fingers: about adventurers, about fighting, about how to search a cave. “There are so many things you know, things you think about… It’s kind of unfair.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is.” 

“I see…” 

The words were soft—it wasn’t clear if Goblin Slayer agreed with her or not—but then he fell into silence. Priestess looked at the metal helmet for a few moments before she said quietly, almost to herself, “…I wonder if I’ll eventually know so many things, too.” 

“I can’t say.” 

“You can’t say…what?” 

“I’ve never considered myself that clever.” I wouldn’t know. 

Priestess found that she couldn’t pursue the subject any further. Instead, she puffed out her cheeks like a temperamental child, but when she realized she had done it, she straightened up. “In that case, I’ll study.” She was sure she sounded a bit pouty, but also as if she enjoyed the prospect. “I’ll study everything I can, learn and train… I’ll do my very best.” 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said and nodded. “That’s good.” 

“ Uh-huh ,” Priestess responded like an obedient student, then went quiet again. The hubbub of the Guild Hall sounded in her ears once more, idle chatter filling the space around them. 

If that was all idle chatter, though, then what about their conversation just now? It must have been equally as meaningless. Such moments never lasted very long anyway. The staff member who had zipped away from the reception desk returned with a sheaf of papers… 

“All right, everyone! Here are today’s job postings!” 

There was an excited shout from adventurers who had been waiting for this moment; they rushed the bulletin board. Some of the jobs were easy, some were hard, but what they all had in common was that an adventurer who didn’t work wouldn’t eat. 

“Hey, get a load of this one!” 

“What’s that? Guarding the Temple of the Earth Mother?” 

This most unexpected exchange reached Priestess from the burble of the crowd, making her tremble. 

“What, they afraid some punk who heard the rumors is gonna come after ’em?” 

“No, man, I heard they got help from the Temple of the Supreme God…” 

“Huh, sounds good. And lucrative!” 

“Hey, you know what they say—what goes around, comes around. It’s, like, good karma to help people in trouble.” 

The adventurers each grabbed a quest, saying whatever seemed good to them. Priestess watched them with an indescribable expression on her face. Perhaps she was thinking, But they were spreading the rumors, too! The idea that this thought must be welling up in her heart caused a moment of hesitation, but it had to be done. That was when a certain person gathered his resolve and stood, striding directly among the adventurers. 

“—?” 

The girl turned a perplexed gaze on him. The metal helmet, however, bore no expression. He swallowed audibly: “Eep.” This adventurer looked like there might not be anything inside his armor, a Nonexistent Knight. It added intimidation to the natural hesitation, and he stiffened. 

“Do you need something?” 

“ Yes ” came the brief response. But the voice was so scratchy, so high-pitched. That would never do. He took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. “I beg you. This is a quest most urgent. Please…I beg you to help us.” The voice of the son of the wine seller from the water town was soft and pleading. 

§ 

“Goblins?” 

“No… Well, yes.” 

Priestess was the very first to fix a serious gaze on the young man with his inarticulate pronouncements. 

The son of the wine merchant. The one from the water town. To Priestess, he could not have identified himself as something more loaded with meaning. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. 

What can I say…? 

Should she taunt him? Coldly refuse him? Get angry, shout, cry, or outright attack him? 

To be perfectly frank, it wasn’t clear yet that this young man’s father was the source of the rumors. As to that…she had investigated and searched, and she was convinced they were moving. Of course, she had no proof. It was better for them that no proof existed… 

Priestess’s head whirled with thoughts that might be deduction or conjecture or pure fantasy. It was just—she thought it had to be true. Someone who mattered to her had been hurt. 

And there’s no reason at all for me not to pay them back. 

The thought pushed into her heart. It started to spread like a seed putting out sprouts. 

Goblin daughter. With others eager to spread such vicious rumors, why should she be the only one to hold back? A little late to come begging , she could say. Selfish. Apologize , she could order him. Not my problem. Serves you right. 

Was it possible? Of course it was. She just had to let her emotions carry her away. But…she, Priestess, lived her life in the faith that this was not the right thing to do. 

The path she walked prized comforting people, being considerate of them, helping the world when you could. That was her faith, these sixteen or seventeen years of her life. 

Of course, everyone had their personal circumstances, their motivations, and not all of them could be forgiven. But to lash out thoughtlessly, it was just too… 

Pathetic. 

Priestess sucked in a deep breath to clear the catch in her throat. To help disperse the dark, heavy, sticky heat that had bubbled up in her chest. 

“I…,” she said, then had to take a breath to keep going. “I can at least hear him out.” 

“I see.” It was always those same two words with Goblin Slayer. Somehow, Priestess could hardly bear it. “Then let us hear it. Is here okay?” 

“Well, uh…” The merchant’s son seemed to be alerted by the conversation to the holy symbol Priestess held. He scratched his cheek guiltily and glanced around at the press of adventurers seeking their morning quests. None of them were paying special attention to the little group, but of course there were many eyes and ears here. The ability to know what was going on in the vicinity was a matter of life and death for an adventurer. 

“I guess it’s a little late to be worrying about reputation,” the young man mumbled but continued through gritted teeth, “but if we could, I’d like to use a meeting room or something…” 

“Very well.” Goblin Slayer nodded and turned to glance in the direction of the reception desk. Guild Girl had her hands full dealing with all the adventurers registering their quests. But he certainly couldn’t just help himself to one of the rooms… 

“…Oh.” 

Just then, his eyes met those of Inspector, who was curled up in a corner with some paperwork in her hands. She nonchalantly put away the book she was hiding behind the papers and gave him a grin. Goblin Slayer, undeterred, pointed silently to the merchant’s son and then to the second floor. Inspector nodded, glanced at the very busy Guild Girl, then put a finger to her lips. Our little secret. But he had his permission, which was all he wanted. 

“Let’s go.” 

“Y-yeah…” 

Two dispassionate words and a bold stride, and the merchant’s son was left to follow in confusion. 

“…” Priestess bit her lip and held fast to her sounding staff but came close behind. They went up to the second floor, all the way to the end of the hall. This was not the part of the second floor that doubled as an inn for adventurers. Instead, it was where the Guild conducted administrative business. Realizing that she had hardly been here except for her promotion interviews, Priestess felt a swell of anxiety. 

No, no. That was just an excuse. Even she realized that much. Her emotions ran completely unchecked within her. But even so, she was set on listening to this man. 

They pushed open a heavy door and entered a room packed to the gills with mementos of the deeds of past adventurers. There were sparkling jewels, military awards, recorded songs, and famous weapons and shields… 

It was a trophy room. Filled with things far more impressive than the occasional monster head or sawed-off horn that graced the tavern. 

Maybe these things were only present to impress would-be quest givers. But still, noticing a plain metal war hammer sitting among everything, Priestess felt a touch of pride. Then self-esteem turned to courage, and she plopped herself down onto the long bench in the room. 

The wine merchant’s son sat across from her, while Goblin Slayer settled beside her. Priestess felt the cushion sink and the bench creak under the weight of his equipment. 

“All right, tell us about your business,” Goblin Slayer said after some brief introductions. 

The merchant’s son fell silent—looking at him more calmly now, Priestess realized he was younger than she had first thought. Maybe it was the color his face and skin derived from the rich food he ate, or maybe it was his elegant dress. He was about twenty years old, she guessed, perhaps a little older. About the time when a son would take over a father’s business and start getting some experience. 

Priestess didn’t let these speculations get in the way of paying close attention to the man across from her. She didn’t have the Sense Lie miracle. 

“I finally found out for sure,” he said. “My father made a contract with the agents of Chaos.” 

With no miracle to help her, Priestess would have to judge for herself whether what he was saying was true. 

§ 

“I noticed my father was acting strange. 

“It wasn’t that business was down. We were fine, financially. And yet, he was desperate. And then those rumors started about the Temple of the Earth Mother, and my father jumped on the opportunity. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses here, but it felt very strange to me. 

“Merchantry isn’t a noble pursuit—when there’s chaos, you take advantage of it to turn a profit. But that’s just business… On a personal level, we don’t take any more joy in the suffering of others than anyone else. 

“But my father, he was smiling and laughing. He’s dedicated to his business, very serious, very loyal, and—although maybe this isn’t for me to say—highly capable. I’ve watched him work since I was a boy; the smell of wine on his clothes was the smell of my father. 

“…I’m sorry. Yes, I know. That isn’t the point here… 

“The point is, he was desperate. 

“Wine-making was going well, and the money was flowing. He was bent on growing, on expanding his business. When I look back on it now, I think that’s where the seeds of Chaos were sown. 

“It’s a cycle: You work to make money. He put the money into expanding the business. As the business expands, you have more work. But by the same token, as your business expands, there’s less money to go around, and if the work doesn’t go well, the business slows down, and you lose your cushion. 

“My father was desperate. And that…was probably what drove him to join forces with those servants of Chaos. He probably thought he would play along with their plans and make his money somewhere in between the plots. 

“Laughable, I know. He was tricked—when have the forces of Chaos ever worked with the likes of us, right? But when business beckons…well, profit makes strange bedfellows. Justice and compassion fall by the wayside. 

“Look, I’m not trying to say we’re blameless and innocent. I’ve turned to people who lurk in the shadows before. Plausible deniability with them. Everyone knows it’s all supposed to stay nice and quiet—er, excuse me, I’m getting off topic again. 

“…My father, in his fear, went to all and sundry, making plans, making contracts, making sure to leave a trail of evidence. In other words: If I go down, everything becomes public, and you all go down with me. 

“Just a little guarantee. Of course, they were full of threats on their end about what would happen to him if he betrayed them. You can laugh if you want, but it was surely a mistake. 

“The other day, some thieves broke into the residence of the town’s captain of the guard. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened; tobacco and drugs have been stolen before. But this time was different. The thief was a troll . Word is he tore up the captain’s personal chamber, then ran off but was killed by some passing adventurers. 

“But this troll, see? Somehow, in all the excitement, he dropped my father’s contract in the guard captain’s room. And that was it. The guards, furious at the loss of face, started chasing him down, and then it all came out. My father was arrested, and the business is probably ruined. 

“As for me—my only saving grace was that I didn’t know anything about any of this. They proved it with Sense Lie at the Temple of Law in the water town. 

“Naturally, I can’t just inherit the business and say all’s well that ends well. They know this is all public now. 

“A couple of days ago, now—in the morning. I have this one servant, a man who was in that battle ten years ago. He told me he’d found some footprints behind our house. Said he recognized them. No question. 

“Said they were goblin tracks.” 

§ 

Other than the young man’s voice, a terrible silence reigned over the meeting room from the moment he started talking until the moment he finished. The wine merchant’s son piled one word upon another as if to show he was not making anything up. Even without the Sense Lie miracle, Priestess felt his words had the ring of truth. 

There are, in fact, a number of ways to defeat Sense Lie , a nasty part of her whispered into her heart, and it pained her to admit it was there. 

“I see; so that’s how they moved.” Goblin Slayer’s dispassionate voice reached the ears of Priestess as she agonized. 

Wha—? She glanced over at the helmet, but there was no response to her, only more words. 

“You’ve tried the Guild?” 

“Yes, I put through an official request,” the young man said. “Although no one would take it, at least not in the water town.” In the smallest of jokes, he shrugged self-deprecatingly and said, “Not because it was a goblin hunt, but because I’m the son of a man who was working with Chaos.” 

“That’s—,” Priestess started, but realizing she didn’t know how to finish that sentence, she closed her mouth again. 

That’s only natural? That’s what you get? No, no, no. No, that wasn’t her. She didn’t want to speak those words aloud. Her clenched hands trembled so hard her staff jangled. 

“But it appears to me you were not attacked the next day.” 

“My servant said if we could get a few men with weapons to stand guard, it would keep the goblins from getting too close.” 

“Hmm,” Goblin Slayer grunted, thinking to himself as he dispassionately continued the conversation. His imperturbable detachment caused Priestess to listen as closely as she could. 

“It’s not like we didn’t already have protection… Although after all the uproar, most of them quit.” But the household still had equipment, along with several servants and men-at-arms. They had been put on guard, changing positions every night, and a scarecrow wearing armor had been erected in the vineyards. 

Goblin Slayer dismissed this feeble effort with a few words. “That will only delay the inevitable. It’s not bad, but I doubt you have much time.” 

“Yeah… That’s why I went to the Temple of Law. I wasn’t trying to hide the shame of what happened.” 

But now that the plans of Chaos had come to light, they had to be dealt with—and quickly. The Temple of the Supreme God had already initiated plans to support the Temple of the Earth Mother, dispatching people to that end. But they could hardly spare strength for a simple goblin hunt. Especially one that seemed like just deserts, one a traitor and his son had brought down upon themselves. 

“But…I’d gotten friendly with this one woman at the temple, a daughter of a prominent noble house who works as an independent merchant now.” The young man’s face finally softened, as if he saw salvation in sight. “She was kind enough to set up a meeting…and the archbishop heard what I had to say.” 

“And that is how I am involved?” 

“That’s right. She said there was an adventurer in the frontier town to the west who slew goblins…” 

Priestess could practically picture the scene. The former Noble Fencer—now Female Merchant—and Sword Maiden, the moment they heard the word goblins . The welter of thoughts and feelings became too complicated, and Priestess felt a prickling in her chest. 

“I’ll try.” 

Therefore, the words were exactly what she expected, sharp—and terribly painful. 

“You’re taking him up on it?!” Priestess found her voice far harsher and more critical than she had intended. She flinched and put her hands over her mouth, but she couldn’t take the words back. 

“There’s no reason to turn him down.” 

“But…!” 

But what? Did she intend to argue that they shouldn’t take the job? 

Her own words in her heart were so dark and cruel that she wanted to press her hands over her ears and curl up into a ball. But she couldn’t escape them, not even if she pulled out her eyes and tore off her ears and pulled out her tongue. 

Still, the words Goblin Slayer said to her as she sat there pale and trembling were blunt. “Whoever they are and whyever it happens, I don’t think it’s good for anyone to be killed by goblins.” 

“Ah…” Priestess looked up dimly—vacantly—at the cheap-looking metal helmet. His face and eyes were shrouded by shadow somewhere behind the visor. But she felt as if he could see straight into her heart, and she looked back at the ground. 

Yes. 

He was exactly right. 

Just because someone’s father had done something wrong, just because she didn’t like it, didn’t mean it made no difference what happened to him. 

That would be the same as laughing at someone because you thought they were the daughter of a goblin. 

It would be, in fact, to act like a goblin yourself. 

“Do you have a map of your house, of the land around it? I want to get a feel for it before I see it for myself.” 

“Y-yes, I do…!” The wine merchant’s son nodded, looking like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He nodded again and again, desperately. Overwhelmed with emotion, he even clasped Goblin Slayer’s rough hand and shook it vigorously. “Will you really do it…?” 

“I will do what I can.” 

“Thank you, you’ve saved me…! Anything you need, tell me—anything in my power, I’ll make it ready for you! I’ll do whatever I can to help!” 

Finally, the conversation is simpler , Goblin Slayer thought. Unlike Priestess’s, his heart was like a becalmed sea. He might even have said this felt somehow inevitable. The goblins would come. He would be there waiting and would kill them. Every last one of them. 

It was nothing special. Just what he always did. Even if there was much to think about, there was no need to worry. It was easy. 

Adventures are fun, but… 

It pained him to have to sit and wait to see what would happen, not knowing if the plan he had put into motion would work. In his mind, it was ideal to take a situation in hand, to change things oneself, to know what was going on. None of that should be ceded to others. 

…One should not do what one is unused to , Goblin Slayer thought, and underneath his helmet, his lips twisted upward ever so slightly. 

Maybe it was simply that he had done one thing for so long that he had become accustomed to it. Gracious… 

But this is what I’m suited to. Not city adventures. 

“…Oh, yes,” Goblin Slayer said. He had been rubbing his finally freed hand when something occurred to him. “I believe you know, there is a farm on the outskirts of town.” 

“Er, yes. Yes, I think I’ve seen it. I believe my father was trying to buy the place.” That had come out of left field, and while the wine merchant’s son was confused, he intuitively grasped that this was something important and nodded seriously. 

“What did you think of it?” 

“What did I think?” Well, now. The young man crossed his arms and gazed at the ceiling and pondered. The animals had looked healthy and well cared for; the place as a whole had seemed prosperous. The pastureland was rich and green and expansive, excellent for grazing. It had had a fence and a stone wall to match its size, each obviously well-kept. There was one natural conclusion: 

“An excellent farm, I thought.” 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said and nodded. “I think so, too.” 

For him, that was enough. It left only one other thing to confirm. As he started mentally planning what he would do, Goblin Slayer turned his head. Priestess was still looking at the ground, but perhaps she sensed him turning to her, because she shivered. 

“Come or don’t come, as you wish.” 

§ 

“And you actually took the job?” 

“…Yes.” 

“Geez, you really are hopeless.” 

“…Please don’t imitate me.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” High Elf Archer offered with a good-natured laugh and a wave of her hand. 

They were just in front of the gate to the Temple of the Earth Mother, and it was crawling with adventurers. Or more precisely, there were many other adventurers on the road like Goblin Slayer and Priestess as they headed for the temple. Of course, although they each had accepted the work, they weren’t there just to cooperate with this strange man. Adventurers moved for only one reason: adventure. For one thing, the person offering this particular quest was the archbishop of the Temple of Law in the water town—Sword Maiden herself. 

The place they were protecting was the Temple of the Earth Mother. And to top it all off, they would be fighting the forces of Chaos. The story and the reward were both compelling. Everyone liked a good excuse to cause a little mayhem. And so the adventurers had pressed in— Me too, me too! —in hopes of getting a piece of the action. 

They wore every kind of equipment imaginable and chattered ceaselessly with one another. The eyes of the temple adepts sparkled at the scene as they ran back and forth to look after everyone… 

I wonder if we should have done this to begin with? Priestess thought, picturing the time when all she knew of adventurers came from storybooks and the handful who filtered into the temple looking for healing. If they had done it, she was sure things would be very different now. 

She looked away from Goblin Slayer, who was deep in conversation with Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest. She had acted thoughtfully, she felt, but it still wasn’t enough. She hadn’t accomplished anything. She had nothing to show for her work. Maybe she would have gotten better results by just letting others handle everything. What if, instead of grappling with all those difficult emotions, she had just handed it over to someone else, maybe someone important? 

“Don’t think it would have worked out.” 

“Wha…?” 

Priestess found her gloomy thoughts ushered away by the voice of High Elf Archer, clear as a bell. Had she accidentally spoken aloud? Without meaning to, she glanced at the elf’s face and found her drawing a circle in the air with her pointer finger. “You just need to do what you’re capable of doing. You do it because you can. And then it’s done. Right?” 

“You… You think so?” 

Priestess’s mood still wasn’t improved, and her face remained clouded. She questioned whether she could really do flawless work when she was not one of those who sat at the starry table in the heavens. 

“Listen.” 

“Yeeep…?!” She suddenly found High Elf Archer tapping her gently on the nose, like an older sister scolding a younger. 

“You requested we do bodyguard work. And no enemy ever showed up. Brilliant, I think. Or are you upset about it?” 

“I’m not upset,” Priestess said, pressing her hands to her nose. “But do you really think it’s all right?” 

“When you do what you’re supposed to do and nobody ends up unhappy—of course it’s all right.” 

For creatures with such short life spans, humans get caught up in the smallest things—and miss what’s right in front of their eyes. High Elf Archer gave an elaborate shrug and shook her head. Even this dramatic and comical gesture, when performed by a high elf, became astonishingly elegant. Then her eyes narrowed like a mischievous cat’s. 

“I agree it was one boring adventure, though. And then the next thing we have to do is a goblin hunt!” 

I’ll have to make sure Orcbolg pays us back for this. But High Elf Archer’s words were, in fact, quite lighthearted. 

“That’s true,” Priestess agreed with a quick nod and then cast her eyes over the adventurers. 

It was, as we’ve explained, fairly good work—but also, in a sense, fairly simple work. Most of the adventurers who had gathered were rookies who had some experience of the sewers or goblin hunting at best. There were no higher ranks, no Bronzes or Silvers, to be seen; everyone there seemed somehow still innocent and new. 

“Sword, check! Club, check! Brow cover and chest armor, check! Torch—well, maybe we don’t need it?” 

“Can’t hurt to have along. Then there’s the potions and stuff… Be sure not to drop them.” 

“They should be fine, I made sure to tie them tight. C’mon, spin around. I’ll check you over.” 

Rookie Warrior and Apprentice Cleric—no, one hesitated to use those names for them anymore—were among the parties present. Since their adventure on the snowy mountain, the two of them—well, in fact, they had not suddenly burst onto the scene as full-fledged, experienced questers. Rather, they continued to do what they had been doing, making steady progress taking one step forward at a time. But perhaps their advancement was just a little bit faster than it had been before. 

“Hullo, hullo, so you’ve all come for the same job, have ye?” The comment came from the source of the party’s quickened growth—their newest member, Harefolk Hunter, with a spring in the step as always. Her (she was probably a her ) long ears swayed from side to side, and her long feet tapped restlessly, betraying a fine mood. “Phew, I just hardly know one face from another yet. Great relief, bein’ with the lot of you.” Then, with an “Ahem, excuse me,” she pulled some berries from her pouch and stuffed them into her cheeks. Harefolk could keep moving so long as they had food, but without provisions, they starved very quickly, or so she claimed. 

And here was another astonishing and wonderful thing: to watch Harefolk Hunter munching happily was to feel one’s own heart at peace. And here was another still: Each time she scratched her fur, which she did quite frequently, bits of downy fluff would shake loose and float through the air, helping Priestess forget her melancholy. 

“Wow, that fur is great…” 

“Yeah, if ye live up in the mountains. Down here it’s so flaming hot, this stuff is a liability. I’m tryin’ to shed it, and you wouldn’t believe how it itches.” 

And indeed, they could see that the young lady’s white fur was changing in patches to brown. 

I see—it’ll be summer soon. 

Priestess realized then that she had been denying herself even the time to think such thoughts as that, and she looked up at the sky. The great, vast blue was filled with gleaming sunlight, shining down so brightly she had to squint to look up. 

High Elf Archer, when she saw Priestess like that, sniffed triumphantly and puffed out her modest chest. “We’re going on a grand adventure now,” she said, though she then smiled wanly. “Even if it is goblin hunting.” 

“Oh, are ye really, now? Shame, shame about that. Well, we’ll just see y’again sometime, I think.” It was hard to say how serious the young woman’s rather craggy pronouncement was. Priestess, though, suspected the harefolk was being genuine and found her heart ever so slightly lighter. 

Call me innocent, but… 

She felt a little bit exasperated with her own self over the matter. 

“Hey, you, c’mon over here! We’ll make sure you’re ready to go!” Rookie Warrior called. 

“You got it!” Harefolk Hunter grinned and shouted back. She obligingly went bounding off, but then she stopped and spun back. “Ah, right, the good sister was asking for you.” 

“Wha—?” Priestess failed to come up with an answer immediately. The truth was, she should have gone to see Sister Grape straightaway. Harefolk Hunter hardly seemed to notice her consternation as she waved and exclaimed, “G’bye, then!” 

High Elf Archer sighed pointedly, then put on her best older-sister voice, her ears twitching up and down. “Go on; go see her. I’ve got other things to do, you know.” She gave Priestess a push to get her started, the girl wobbling unsteadily before weaving past other adventurers. 

That was one adventurer with an ax on his shoulder—he wore a rank tag of Emerald, the sixth rank—who had brought his whole party. Behind him came a warlock in battered outerwear and a monk in threadbare vestments. The warlock was irritably flipping the pages of a spell book, repeating something in a mutter. Probably struggling to remember the incantation of the day’s chosen spell. The warlock gave a click of the tongue at the noise of the bustle around. 

The ax wielder who appeared to be the party’s leader paid the warlock no mind; in fact, he nearly drowned out the sound of annoyance as he bellowed, “Yo there! Was yours the party that’s been handling this? Going to roll right on with the quest?” 

“Not us,” High Elf Archer said, smiling proudly. “We’re going on an adventure now.” 

“That’d make us the highest rank around, then…” The ax wielder sighed loudly as if to indicate what a burden this was, but it didn’t seem to take him long to feel better. 

“Great,” High Elf Archer said, “we’ll leave it to you to keep an eye on things here.” 

“You can count on us. Though I’m not sure there’s much you need to count on us for , job like this…” 

Priestess turned away from the conversation and pattered off into the temple with which she was so familiar. She bowed to acquaintances—other clerics, other adventurers—as they passed by. She tried not to hurry, not to fret. And yet, still she wished that the time until she arrived would be either an instant or an eternity—either would do. As it was, the time was too long not to think about anything, yet too short for her to really sort out how she was feeling. Thoughts, disconnected from each other, raced through her head, until they spun away from each other and floated off. 

Many different people had said many different things to her. Many different people were doing many different things. 

So what am I doing, then? 

The world was incalculably vast and complex and too full of places she couldn’t see. Most of those places she would never go to, never know of. But if the stage called the world was so large, how much larger must it be backstage, from which they were separated by only a thin curtain. Or what if it should be the case that this “stage” was only such to her, when in fact it was really— 

—backstage. 

She thought she had fully understood this. 

Had she believed she could do something? Just a little girl who had heard a whisper from the gods. 

How many clerics were there in the world who could bring about miracles? 

She had helped to resolve more than a few adventures. Very well, so what? 

She had grown a little. And? 

It was a step so small it didn’t even cover a single square of this board. 

Did you seriously think you— you! —could do anything? 

Priestess, who had been feeling lighter and clearer, gradually started growing heavier and slower again. 

“Goodness, I’m about to cry,” she realized distantly. She bit her lip and forced herself to face forward. But then… 

“Hey. Gosh, what in the world is the matter? You look terrible.” 

“Oh…” 

The nun, who had been looking all over for her, smiled like the sun emerging in the sky. She reached out a dark hand and placed it gently on Priestess’s cheek, almost stroking it. 

“Eeyeep?!” Priestess yelped as the other woman pinched her face and gave it a firm shake. The source of her tears changed completely, and Priestess gave a high, keening wail, realizing how silly and how embarrassing she looked. 

Next, the nun tugged Priestess’s face up and down, chuckling, “Heh-heh-heh, hee-hee-hee!” as she did so. Sister Grape finally let go when it became evident that Priestess was quaking with anger, but then she shrugged instead. “Smile, girl, smile. There’s only one time when a mighty cleric ought to be going around looking like the world is ending, and that’s when the world is ending.” 

“H-how am I supposed to smile when you’re hurting me…?!” 

“At least you’re not stuck in your own head anymore, eh?” Sister Grape said, grinning, and Priestess didn’t have a response. 

For crying out loud. 

She had been struggling to figure out what to say when she saw Sister Grape, but everything she had thought of had flown right out of her head, along with her worries. In the end, what finally came out was an honest question. “…How can you be so bright and cheerful?” Even if the question was asked with a pouty lower lip stuck out. 

“That’s a good question. I wonder…” Sister Grape truly seemed to not know, even though it was her own self they were talking about. 

Maybe it was wash day: Sister Grape sat down (rather gracelessly) on a barrel next to a basket into which many a vestment had been tossed. Kicking her legs, she cast her eyes around the temple grounds, then looked up at the blue sky. “Probably…because I know.” 

“Know what…?” 

Sister Grape smiled and gave her “little sister” a proficient wink. “That I’m not any goblin’s daughter.” 

“So let others make idiots of themselves jabbering if they want! They don’t know anything—they just talk, talk, talk. That’s all it is.” She smiled. 

“There’s something else, too. You can worry, or you can rage, or you can cry—but you’ll still get hungry in time, and if someone tickles you, you’ll still laugh. So you’re best off just enjoying yourself—and it’s the moral way, too. ” 

“…” 

Priestess didn’t understand. She didn’t understand, but it seemed like something very, very simple somehow. For it had been piling up and piling up, ever since she could remember. 

Sister Grape leaned over on her barrel to look Priestess in the face. The young woman blinked and found herself confronted with eyes that could have sucked her in. She drew breath. 

“You remember the teachings of our goddess. Remind me of the most important one?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Priestess nodded. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation. “Protect, heal, save.” 

“Very good.” Sister Grape grinned. Her smile was as beautiful and untroubled as a clear sky; it sprang from a sincerely happy heart. “If you ever feel lost, just follow that teaching. Who cares what anybody says? We have the goddess on our side!” 

“…Yes, ma’am.” Priestess nodded again. “Yes, ma’am!” She nodded more firmly. 

“Then follow the path straight and true!” 

“Yes, ma’am! I will! I’m off to my adventure now.” She nodded again, even more emphatically, and then raced away. Her sounding staff was jangling as she turned half around, holding her cap to her head, and bowed. “Um!” She wasn’t certain what to say but “Thank you—very much!” 

“You’ve got it backward.” That should be my line. 

Priestess bowed once again to her amused older sister and then started off. 

She had worries. She had hesitations. But she no longer cared about them. What she had to do and how to do it: She had learned those things long, long ago and had gotten this far by putting them into use. Maybe it was something she had simply become accustomed to, but she was certain now. 

This path she walked must be what people called faith.