Goblin Slayer - Volume 10 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Those Who Love Neither Wine Nor Women Nor Song

A festival is a day of celebration. Cheerful music fills the air, inviting everyone and their dog to trundle out to join the fun. It would be untrue to say that there is no one who dislikes these moments—but even so, a festival is a day of celebration. 

On this particular festival day, the Temple of the Earth Mother was very much a part of the merrymaking in the frontier town. 

“All right, everyone, come on! Step on those grapes!” the clerics exhorted, producing a rousing shout from the assembled onlookers. 

The early-harvest grapes would be crushed underfoot this day, a festival given in the hopes of good wine come autumn. Holy day though it was, admittedly, some were there simply to see the young women in their bare feet. Others just wanted to drink some wine or to flit about the festival nibbling on this and that. Others still came merely to gawk—but a day of celebration is one on which all these things and more are forgiven. Neither the clerics serving the Earth Mother, nor anyone else, paid them any mind. 

I’m sure that’s for the best , Goblin Slayer thought absently from where he sat, just apart from the crowd. He was leaning against the trunk of a tree, using its shadow to get out of the bright sun. As he gazed at the crowd standing in the light, he considered the recent commotion. A great many adventurers had saved this place, so today a great many adventurers were invited. He had been among them—and he had considered refusing. 

“If you would come, it would make me…very happy!” 

But after this final push from Priestess, he could hardly refuse. Yet, despite his attendance at the festival, Goblin Slayer was unsure how to go about enjoying himself. 

“What’s wrong? Done in by the drink already?” 

He turned in the direction of the unexpected voice. There he found Sister Grape, who gave him a friendly wave and said, “H’lo.” She was not in her usual nun’s habit but in a special crimson dress just for crushing grapes. 

Goblin Slayer thought about it for a moment, then shook his head as if to say no . “I don’t drink much.” 

“Some people might say that a man who doesn’t know how to enjoy a drink doesn’t know how to live.” It was an insouciant comment, but Sister Grape softened it with a friendly smile. “At least now we know why you’re not having any fun.” 

“No…” Goblin Slayer thought a moment longer, then turned his helmet in the direction of the merriment. Spearman, who was watching the clerics stomp the grapes, was whispering something to Witch. Female Knight, in civilian clothes, had a cup of wine in one hand and a flush on her face as she talked garrulously to Heavy Warrior. The younger boys seemed transfixed by the sight of the clerics, while the girls made exasperated faces and snide comments. Harefolk Hunter was thoroughly enjoying herself, on account of this was a festival, but she was shedding too profusely to be allowed to stomp the grapes. 

Padfoot Waitress could be seen mooning over a food stall, dragging the workshop apprentice behind her as she rushed around the festivities. As for the owner of the farm, he was deep in conversation with the temple’s Mother Superior—perhaps he had provided some of the foodstuffs. Guild staff members, including Inspector, must have decided to take the day off, for they wandered through the crowd in personal clothes. 

Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman were filling their mouths and bellies with food and drink and generally having a grand old time. 

“I’m not…having no fun at all.” 

“That so? Well, good, then. ” With that, Sister Grape helped herself to a place by the tree he was leaning on, resting against it much like he was. She glanced over at him, just briefly, then scratched her cheek as if embarrassed. Finally, she managed: “Listen, uh, thanks. For everything.” 

“I didn’t do anything in particular.” 

He could tell she looked over at him then, though she moved only her eyes. “That an attempt at modesty?” There was a slight edge to her tone. Goblin Slayer couldn’t fathom what might lie behind it. 

“No, it’s a fact. I—” He went silent for a moment, looking for the correct words to say. “—only killed the goblins.” Unable to come up with anything more articulate or more elaborate, what finally emerged from his mouth was this characteristic, dispassionate statement. 

Sister Grape closed her mouth and looked at the ground. A breath of wind passed by, rustling the branches. The hiss of the leaves sounded very loud. 

After a long moment, she finally said, “All the more reason I better thank you, then… I guess.” 

It seemed to him that perhaps Sister Grape was no better at finding the right words than he was. 

“Is that so?” 

“Sure is.” 

So the two of them nodded at each other, and the conversation about the unrest that had engulfed them both stopped there. 

A few minutes later, Sister Grape said, “I better go talk to the others,” and stood up away from the tree. 

“All right,” Goblin Slayer replied and nodded. 

He watched her go and saw her head over at a trot to a young man of noble mien. The wine merchant’s son. He looked spent but still had an eagerness about him as he called out to Sister Grape. She hesitated, but there was no warning in his voice; he was even smiling. 

That’s good , Goblin Slayer thought. Whatever they might talk about now, whatever the relationship between them might be in the future, it was good. 

From what he had heard, the wine merchant had begun to sell a vintage he dubbed, “Wine of the Summer of Goblin Slaying.” It took a certain amount of nerve, that move, but then again, maybe that was what it took to be a businessman… 

Goblin Slayer consider for a moment, then discarded that thought. Whatever and however, if people were trying to move forward, then that in itself should be applauded. All was do or do not. As his master had told him many times. 

I suppose if he heard about what just happened, he would shout at me and give me a good punch… 

“…Did I do it?” 

“Do what?” 

This time, he knew who had come over to him. It was the girl, his childhood friend, peeking around at him over his shoulder. She was wearing the same kind of red dress as Sister Grape had been and radiated cheerfulness. “Oh, you mean this?” She held up the hem as if for his inspection. The wind caught it and it billowed up, so that he could see the fine stitching. “Hee-hee! They even invited me, and I figured, why not? What do you think?” 

“I don’t really know.” 

This answer, which he had produced with a fair deal of concern and consideration, seemed to meet her expectations. “Oh yeah?” she responded and smiled, spinning around a few times for his benefit. “It’s so rare I get to dress up at all. It’s easy to get carried away!” 

Maybe that also explained the uncommonly jovial mood of the clerics. When he thought about it, he realized Priestess was almost always in her vestments as well, and if one were to be shut up in a temple all the time… 

“Say.” 

“What is it?” 

She sat down beside him. She was so close that even through his armor, he could sense the warmth of her body. 

“You remember how…marriage came up, that one time?” 

“…Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Nodded and grunted softly. As usual, he wasn’t sure quite what to say. “There are many obstacles.” 

Therefore, when he finally spoke, she said, “Yeah,” and nodded like she did when they were children. “I get it…” Her voice was so small. For some reason, it evoked a memory of a time long ago when they had fought. 

“…All I can do is to deal with what is directly in front of me, one thing at a time.” 

It had been five years, and then another two years, and something seemed somehow to have changed—this was the result. Had he been able to do anything? Perhaps even the thought was childish. 

“Sure, but…” She was smiling, her voice cheerful. “If you keep taking care of one thing and then another, eventually you’ll take care of everything, right?” 

“You think so…?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

It seemed she truly believed it, from the bottom of her heart. There was no hesitation in her words; her voice was crystal clear. Goblin Slayer looked up at the sky through the branches of the tree. “…I see.” 

“Mm.” She gave a quick nod, then jumped to her feet with a hearty “Hup!” She patted the grass off her skirt, then looked at Goblin Slayer. “Okay, then. I’m going to go stomp some grapes—you want to come watch?” 

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.” 

“I’ll be waiting for you!” she said, waving. She ran through the grass with light footsteps, toward the huge barrel full of grapes. Priestess, High Elf Archer, and Guild Girl were all waiting for her, dressed in unfamiliar clothes. 

Happiness is budding grapevines, 

a hillside alive with dancing blue butterflies, 

and the autumn’s harvest moon 

a brooch upon the neck of the Earth Mother. 

When the flowers bloom and bear fruit in all their glory, 

with my beloved on the second starry night, 

with the birdsong of the forest for dawn bells, 

I feel the gentle touch of the Earth Mother. 

The sweet yet bitter nectar 

lights a flame in my heart 

spanning the stars with the twin moons; 

the joyous song of the Earth Mother is calling. 

The young women raised their voices, laughing, playing, singing a song, as they trod the grapes, making the wine. 

It would be good wine this year, surely. He was surprised to find himself thinking so. Goblin Slayer took in the entire scene, then slowly stood and started walking. 

If today was indeed a day of celebration—then for now, let the thought of celebration be enough.