Goblin Slayer - Volume 12 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Of How Girls Want To Go On Adventures, Too

“Yeah, this is how an adventure should be!” Never mind that it was a girl who was cutting down the wyvern in a single swipe as it flew over the castle walls; Female Knight was very pleased with herself.

Bereft of the use of its wings, the wyvern floundered through the air, screeching as it fell into the inner courtyard. The waiting soldiers jumped on it, stabbing it with spears and halberds and clubbing it with six-foot sticks, beating it to death.

Soldiers couldn’t match adventurers when it came to facing monsters alone or in small groups, but a large band of soldiers would have the upper hand in combat. When a monster’s claws and fangs and tail could each send a man flying, having ten or twenty together would see that the work got done. Such was the case with a wyvern at least, a so-called “flying dragon.” If it had been a real dragon, it might have been a different story…

“I’m just sorry I didn’t one-hit it,” Female Knight said, “but I have to say, that’s a gratifying sight!”

“That’s for sure,” High Elf Archer added with a nod, flicking her long ears. “All right, let me show you how it’s done!” She pulled back the spider-silk string on her great yew bow, and let fly with a bud-tipped arrow. Her arms were thin as branches, but she drew the three-person bow as if it were light as a feather. She just laughed, though, and said, “My big brother’s bow is way stronger!” That’s high elves for you.

The arrow made a large arc, as if guided by a string. It was like the bolt was unconsciously joined with the wyvern’s brain. The arrow ran flat sideways, pierced one eyeball and came out the other, then turned back in on the monster, piercing through its wing membrane and then stabbing it in the heart.

All this was nothing but a splotch in the distant sky, but High Elf Archer’s jade-green eyes perceived it clearly. “Heh,” she said, giving an elegant snort at her second catch of the day. “Next, to the west!”

“Hmph! You’re still only ahead by one. Don’t get too cocky!” Female Knight scoffed, but she was unable to suppress a smile. “Let’s go!” She set off running along the ramparts at a speed that belied her full-body armor, large sword, and shield. It was impressive, but the high elf running along beside her looked as though she were traipsing through an empty field. They were obviously a breed apart: High Elf Archer moved without so much as a quiet footfall, like the wind.

The soldiers, though, hadn’t a moment to admire the two lovely ladies.

Several robed figures were huddled beside the arrow ports along the castle’s crenellated ramparts. They had been gathered from everywhere nearby: masters of the wind, readers of the sky, rain dancers. Mostly, what they did amounted to little more than parlor tricks. Maybe they could summon a breeze, forecast the weather, or even coax a little drizzle to fall, but that was generally it. Nonetheless, they wove words of true power desperately, shaving their souls away to do so, straining to cast spells of protection. And the soldiers incessantly firing from the tower needed all the help they could get.

Look overhead, and it was obvious: What you saw was seventh-tenths sky and three-tenths enemies. Maybe they could just be glad it wasn’t the other way around. Down on the ground, it was no better. An army of monsters stretched all the way to the horizon, threatening the castle.

No, let’s not indulge in hyperbole, here. A monster army of that size hasn’t been seen since that battle years ago.

But if one wasn’t accustomed to it, it was difficult to count the squirming shapes of the forces of Chaos emerging from the forest. Skeleton soldiers who would never tire populated the front line, their shields raised high, the hail of arrows all but meaningless to them. As for the undead warriors with their rotting flesh, they continued to press forward no matter how many shots pierced them. The only ways to stop them were cutting them down with swords, crushing them with maces, or smashing them with studded clubs.

But there was a reason the lord of the castle didn’t sally forth, and why the Army of Darkness was allowed to lap at the castle walls: The castle simply didn’t have the forces to scatter the enemy. If their tower should fall, the village it protected would lie open to this unholy horde.

The enemy was drawn to this tower, precisely because it offered a stout defense. The soldiers fired arrows at their enemies above and below, and if any of the invaders attempted to climb the walls, the soldiers dropped rocks on them, or poured burning oil down on them; and when they ran out of those things, they started throwing porridge.

When the undead—who, unlike the living, weren’t bothered by the scalding heat—reached the top of the wall, they were greeted with swords and spears. Just because they couldn’t die, didn’t mean they couldn’t be broken into pieces by a fall from a great height, and rendered physically unable to move.

A carefully constructed tower will have portals and openings for just this sort of defense. This was a human fortification, so humans were most prominent among its defenders, but everyone there, elves and dwarves, padfoots and rheas, fought relentlessly. Soldiers and knights, mercenaries and domestic servants, even the chefs and the prisoners from the jail battled as one. They brandished weapons at the monsters, cooked food, gave first aid, repaired the walls, offered water, did laundry.

They counted the money in the vault, checked how many provisions were left, recorded everything, played musical instruments, and sang songs. No one scoffed at even the smallest detail.

The battle here on the frontier of the Four-Cornered World was a microcosm of the struggle playing out between Chaos and Order. Fight to survive, fight for honor or friendship or love, for profit, for amnesty, or just to get home. It didn’t matter the reason. The fact that all these people with their disparate motivations could fight together was what made it Order. Though some might deride it as naïveté, they felt like the last tower standing at the edge of the world.

“Um, I brought more arrows…!”

In the middle of it all, Priestess was likewise doing her utmost to help as best she could, rushing this way and that. Now she climbed a ladder with an armful of arrows, keeping low as she worked her way along the ramparts passing them out. Her quick footsteps sounded like the pattering of a little bird dancing along a branch.

Needless to say, there were wounded soldiers present, and Priestess would bite her lip each time she saw one. But she didn’t use her healing miracle. She couldn’t. These weren’t life-threatening injuries.

She had several miracles, and could use three miracles per day. They were precious strategic resources.

It’s really incredible to be able to use a fire spell twice in a day.

The girl had taken her first step into what could be called the middle levels, and she was learning well how to judge when to use her abilities. Thus, she said as cheerfully as she was able: “Food will be coming in a little bit! Hang in there!”

“Thanks, lass!”

“Yeah, it’s a big help!”

The soldiers smiled tiredly at her, nodding their heads as they accepted the ammunition.

An army needs food and drink as much as it needs swords or shields or spears or arrows, in order to wage a battle. (Except, perhaps, the greatest lizardmen and the best martial artists.)

“They did a fine job thinning out that wyvern flock, too.”

“Yeah, thought we were gonna be crushed under that. But I’m more worried about the zombies.”

“The captain said he’d take care of them,” another soldier interjected. “And anyway, I’m worried about them both.”

“Got that right.”

The soldiers spoke the truth: The wyverns didn’t seem to attack so much as they seemed to come on like a herd of buffalo. Get in their way, and there was no hope for you. No one wanted to face them head-on.

Priestess knew that if she’d had to face any of this alone, she would have just run away, or stood frozen in terror. And yet the soldiers bantered and laughed with one another.

“Hey, what’s the supply situation?” someone asked.

“The transport corps is supposed to be bringing supplies from the water town, I think…” Priestess replied. It wasn’t a very certain or very specific answer, but the soldier looked pleased just the same. “Right,” he murmured. “Got it.” Priestess made the holy sign in front of her chest. “May the Earth Mother protect you…”

How much of a real comfort was that prayer to the soldiers gathered there? Maybe some of them followed another deity. But still, there was someone praying for them. Those who didn’t understand what a joy that was would never know.

This was a battle for self-preservation. Surely the All-Merciful Earth Mother was with them. True, the dice of Fate and Chance could surprise even the gods, but still…

Praying that the soldiers would not be touched by the fangs and claws of the monsters, that the arrows of the skeleton soldiers would not strike them, Priestess descended the ladder. She let out a breath and looked for the next thing to do…

“Make sure you…rest a little…eh?” Witch’s hand settled softly on Priestess’s shoulder. The way she walked, with her generous hips swaying, made Witch an alluring flower to the defenders. With her magic, she might be the key to the defense of the castle at some desperate moment. She whispered to Priestess in her usual languid tone, “If you try too hard, you…won’t last…you know?”

“Oh, y-yes! I’m sorry…” Priestess looked down, somewhat embarrassed. She felt like a child who had gotten too excited at a festival. Witch looked at her as if she knew exactly what Priestess was thinking, and the slightest smile edged onto her face. “But you’re…used to it now…aren’t you?”

Huh? Priestess looked at her in surprise, unable to understand, unsure what she was talking about.

“I thought…surely, you’d be more panicked, you see? More, afraid?”

Oh…

Now it made sense. Priestess nodded firmly, forcefully. “Yes, ma’am. At the temple… I mean, I’ve been doing what I can to help since I was a little girl.” Priestess puffed out her small chest with confidence and pride (but always mindful not to let the latter become haughtiness). On a number of occasions, she’d helped tend to wounded adventurers and soldiers after a large hunt or battle. That incident with the Rock Eater, for example, had been particularly intense…

My goodness… That feels so long ago now. It’s strange.

Not that much actual time had passed. Maybe it seemed like so much because she had been so young then. It wasn’t a fond memory by any means, but there was a nostalgia in it, and Priestess smiled in spite of herself.

Shortly thereafter, the sounds emanating from beyond the tower began to ebb. Interestingly enough, even an army of the undead couldn’t go forever without rest—at least, apparently. Perhaps the number of corpses had actually been reduced by that much, or perhaps the magical power of those controlling them was running short. Or were the skeletons knitting their bones back together, the undead wrapping their wounds with bandages…? (All right, it didn’t seem likely.)

At any rate, this umpteenth wave of the attack had subsided. Priestess and the others, it seemed, had survived.

“Heh, I win!”

“I can’t even touch them if they don’t get close. You can’t count those ones.”

“You’re a sore loser!”

The conversation that reached Priestess’s ears, and quite clearly at that, was supremely inappropriate for the battlefield—or perhaps supremely appropriate.

High Elf Archer came down the ladder almost silently, and Female Knight followed behind her, creaking and heavy with armor. Female Knight, who had evidently lost the bringing-down-wyverns contest, seemed to regard the difference in the sound of their footsteps as just one more annoyance. Priestess thought she could hear her mumbling something about this being the reason why nobody liked elves as the knight turned and waved to Witch. Witch smiled a little wider and nodded, and something seemed to pass between the two old hands.

I wish I could be like that, Priestess found herself thinking, but she was too embarrassed to try to imitate them. Instead, she pattered up to High Elf Archer. “Good work out there,” she said.

“If you can call this work,” High Elf Archer replied, twitching her ears. “At least—unlike with Orcbolg—we’ve got a good, sturdy defense around here.”

“Heh, couldn’t let myself be outshone by some dainty cleric!” Female Knight, correctly perceiving High Elf Archer’s remark for the compliment it was, sounded downright proud of herself, her beautiful face breaking into a smile. It was astounding that she was so gorgeous even when she was locked into her armor—though the content of her words was more gallant than gorgeous. Her lovely eyebrows slipped into a frown, however, and she let out a defeated sigh. “Never did take down a wyvern in one hit, though—just means I’ve still got some work to do.”

“Hey, what cleric could possibly take down a wyvern in a single hit?” said High Elf Archer before adding, “You want to know your problem? It’s this stuff.” She was tapping Female Knight’s armor, which resonated with the clear sound of good, solid workmanship. Had Dwarf Shaman been present, he might have been able to tell them how it had been made. And if Lizard Priest had been here, he would have been happy to analyze the girls’ performance in battle.

And if Goblin Slayer were here…

“No, it really happened once, or so I’ve heard. There’s a song about taking down a wyvern in a single swipe of the blade.” Part of Priestess was trying to remember how it went, while another part of her was reflecting dejectedly on how much useless trivia she knew.

“Sounds like she was more horrible than holy to me!” High Elf Archer quipped.

“In any…event, shall we………go back?” Witch said, chuckling at this exchange beneath her broad-brimmed hat.

Back into the tower for food and some rest. Even high elves didn’t have infinite supplies of energy. High Elf Archer was actually starting to feel pretty tired; she just hadn’t noticed until that moment.

“…Wait, what’s that?”

Priestess was just reaching for the waterskin at her hip in a slight panic when she heard this sharp whisper from High Elf Archer. Apparently, the elf was tired, but not that tired. Priestess looked up to discover High Elf Archer watching the sky, her gaze steely. The sky was blue, and the sun was high and bright, although just starting to work its way down from the heights.

“I don’t hear anything. But…something’s coming…!”

Which happened first: the shadow passing overhead, or Female Knight wordlessly leaping into action? Either way, they both seemed a turn or two ahead of Priestess as she grabbed her sounding staff.

Female Knight kicked off the ground with such blinding speed that she might have been the wind itself, and jumped into the air. It was only by following her trajectory that Priestess finally saw it. “But…that’s…”

At first, it looked like nothing more than a bit of fog in the air, but as she watched, it began to swell and expand. There were the huge wings and the sharp horns. A pale coldness about it.

“…a bird and…a deer…?” The monster resembled a madness-inducing combination of the two animals. It was unmistakably a creature of Chaos, and Female Knight went up, farther and farther, over its head. She jumped so high that she could have landed clear in the tower’s inner courtyard, easily surpassing the monster. As she passed overhead, she aimed a blow downward, sure to end the life of any flying creature.

Priestess didn’t know whether this was something Female Knight had come up with while fighting wyverns, or if it was some ancient swordfighting technique. But that fatal blow…

“Hngh?!”

The sword pierced the monster, true enough, but it continued with undiminished momentum, as if Female Knight had stabbed the sky itself. She grunted, twisting forcefully in midair, and landed neatly atop the ramparts. “Some kind of illusion…?!”

“It’s like it’s there, but—not!” High Elf Archer called back, her voice clear as a bell. She dropped to one knee in the courtyard, drawing her great bow with a creak—but she couldn’t hide her concern. “It’s like I can’t feel it…! I won’t be able to hit it!” she hissed through gritted teeth, but even these words, when spoken in the voice of a high elf, sounded pleasant.

There they were: the monster that had so suddenly appeared in the sky, Female Knight, who had made an attack against it, and High Elf Archer with her voice. The soldiers, too, who had been disturbed to the point of near terror, somehow managed to rise and prepare for battle with their weapons in their hands.

Priestess saw all of this at once, absorbed it in the space of a single heartbeat, and thought as hard as she could. What could she do? What should she do? Was this the time for a miracle? She started to pray…

“…Stop that…please.” She felt Witch’s hand slide firmly across her back and shoulder.

“Wha…?” She heard her voice scratch as the broken syllable slipped out, and she blushed in spite of herself. It turned out that one gentle stroke of Witch’s hand had been more than enough to shatter her concentration on her supplication to heaven.

“When you don’t…know…what…something is…then you must not touch it. Not yet.” Witch looked up at the sky, but Priestess couldn’t quite tell where she was looking. Nonetheless, she thought she understood what Witch was saying, if only distantly. The most wizardish of a wizard’s pronouncements were always that way. The dwarves likewise had a certain gnomic streak.

Over the past year or two of accumulated adventuring experience, this was the conclusion Priestess had come to.

That’s just the way it is, she thought. Lining up too-clever arguments would get no one anywhere. What they were working with, her and all of them, was magic.

“…All right.” Priestess nodded, continuing to glare at the blue-black creature above. Witch had said “not yet.” Priestess simply chose to trust her.

“Ah,” Witch said, a hint of gratification in her whisper. “There’s a good, girl…”

“Oh, stop that,” Priestess mouthed in reply. She continued to stare straight at the enemy. If there was the remotest thing she could do to be prepared for when the moment came, she had to do it.

That’s what he would say, anyway.

“I came to take the measure of you all, but you seem to be an apathetic lot.”

Thus, although she was surprised by the husky voice, she immediately saw that it had emerged from the monster’s throat. The creature, neither bird nor deer, moved its eyes—they reminded her of a dead fish—as it spoke.

“Excuse me?!” The response came immediately, and it came from Female Knight. Priestess heard her grumble, “Gygax!”, a most unbecoming word for a servant of the Supreme God, before shouting, “You’ve got some mouth, you bastard! Get down from there! I’ll knock your head off and roast you on a spit!!”

“As you wish, of course: I’ll be here again tomorrow at the same time.” Then the servant of Chaos laughed, a rattling noise that squeezed out of its throat. Just as it was about to disperse in a cloud of mist, the same way it had arrived, it declared: “Fear the hour, all of you! Bewail your powerlessness and die!”

And then, although it had not touched them, the soldiers beneath the unearthly ring the monster had drawn in the sky collapsed. The creature then vanished, leaving only its cruel parting words to pollute the air in its wake.

§

It wasn’t want of money that drove adventurers to mercenary work. Adventurers typically didn’t become mercenaries in the first place, even if the reverse sometimes happened. For one thing, trying to take enemy heads on the battlefield was a lot less lucrative than hunting down treasure chests in caves. Insofar as both professions involved risk to life and limb, adventurers had it better—at least, after they reached a certain rank.

If you wanted to make your fortune in the world, you could join the army as soon as possible, or else become an adventurer. If you made a name for yourself and were given a knighthood or noble title, land to govern and armies to lead, that was certainly one kind of fortune. One that involved being neither an adventurer, nor a mercenary.

There were two reasons why the military might hire adventurers: to defeat monsters in the enemy army, or else to infiltrate an enemy base and take out their leader. Or to steal some secret. Okay, three reasons. Monster hunting, assassination, information procurement, or to rescue a captured princess. So you see? Four reasons.

At any rate…

Priestess, for her part, wasn’t on the ropes, and she wasn’t there on some special mission. Put briefly, what had brought her here was… That’s right. Reason five.

“What? Goblin Slayer isn’t here today?”

Such was what she had asked, openly perplexed, at the Adventurers Guild several days before. It had been early in the morning; she had said her prayers and gotten dressed for the day, then headed for the Guild, only to be greeted by the distressed expression of Guild Girl.

“I’m afraid not. Or…he was, but he already—Well, he’s been taken somewhere.”

She told Priestess that Spearman and Heavy Warrior had arrived and dragged Goblin Slayer off without waiting for him to object. If it had been Spearman alone, a word or two from Guild Girl might have swayed him, but no.

“They said they needed a scout… I’m afraid I’m not the only one around here who handles quests, you see,” Guild Girl said, then smiled apologetically. She could inquire with one of her colleagues as to what exactly was going on if she wanted to, but she was afraid they might think she was trying to horn in on their turf.

“I see…” Priestess replied, realizing she knew nothing about the internal politics of the Guild. She could hardly even imagine what they might be.

Whatever Guild Girl thought about Priestess’s ambiguous expression, she smiled at her. “He’s really changed.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years already. He never used to do anything but solo, but first he joined up with you, and now he’s got a whole party…” He was getting quests from big names that sent him to other countries, and sometimes other groups even asked him for help. “He’s really changed,” Guild Girl repeated fondly, shaking her head. Her bangs twitched silently, somehow giving an impression like a puppy’s or a squirrel’s tail. “I’m happy about that,” she added. “But…a little sad somehow, too. You know what I mean?”

“Er… Hmm,” Priestess said. She was embarrassed to deny it, but to affirm it felt childish, so she settled for an ambiguous shake of the head. “Me, I can’t just tag along after him for the rest of my life.”

“You’ve really come into your own, haven’t you?” Guild Girl reached out her thin, lovely fingers with their neatly manicured nails, just brushing Priestess’s chest. Or, more specifically, the status tag that dangled there, so new it still had its shine. Priestess wasn’t used to it yet. “Just what we’d expect of a Sapphire-ranked adventurer.”

“D-don’t tease me like that…” Priestess returned, blushing. Guild Girl giggled at her.

Priestess puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, but quickly realized what a childish thing that was to do, and forced herself to stop. She wasn’t used to receiving praise—that’s what it came down to—she hardly even believed she deserved it.

Yes, it was true her rank had gone up. But an increase in rank doesn’t always naturally accompany an increase in one’s self-confidence. She was the same person who had up until yesterday been tirelessly accumulating experience; today she was just one level higher. They were a sequence, flowing one into the other, no difference between them—or so it felt to her.

She believed it would be very difficult, though perhaps not impossible, for her to do the things that she saw those adventurers who had come before her doing. In her own mind, she was still a novice, a rookie who didn’t know her right from her left.

Admittedly, if I really think about it, I’ve learned to do a lot of different things, but still…

She’d even encountered a dragon and lived to tell the tale, which was no small accomplishment. If she’d met another adventurer who had done such a thing, she would certainly have considered them incredible. But when the achievement was her own, it somehow seemed smaller in her eyes.

Maybe if there was some way to tell how powerful a person was, what their level was, at a glance…

She couldn’t hold back a sigh at the thought; such an idea was pure fantasy.

“What’s wrong?” Guild Girl asked, but Priestess shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just still getting used to the idea of being Sapphire…”

“Hee-hee. Well, don’t worry, you’ll settle into it. You just have to figure out how to behave like a Sapphire.”

It sounded so easy when Guild Girl said it, but all Priestess could offer in return was a “Right” and a noncommittal look.

But what should I actually do? she thought. Lizard Priest was out on some quest from an old friend, taking Dwarf Shaman with him. So she’d thought Goblin Slayer, High Elf Archer, and she would go out, a three-person team, but the plans had fallen through at the last minute. Then again, calling them plans was a bit much—they’d only been their usual hazy ideas. They could each do what they liked.

Priestess wasn’t necessarily averse to the idea of taking a day off, but maybe not this particular day. She’d woken up assuming she was going to work, and had dressed on that assumption. So what could she do?

Maybe I could study the Monster Manual. She could practice swinging with her staff or slinging with her slingshot as well, but she was in the mood to read a book today. After all, goblins weren’t the only monsters in the world. You never knew when you might be on a goblin hunt and run into a completely different type of creature. I know that from experience…

Dragons weren’t the sort of things you bumped into every day, and just knowing one’s weak points didn’t give you any guarantee of victory. And then, there were those stories of adventurers who encountered mantis men and found themselves killed before they knew what was happening…

Priestess was just scanning the Guild’s bookshelves when a lovely, but clearly annoyed voice, said, “What, you got left behind, too?”

She turned to find Female Knight, gorgeous and gallant, standing behind her and making no effort to hide her frustration. Female Knight must have seemed a melancholy beauty to those who didn’t really know her. Priestess heard several novice female adventurers squeal when they spotted her.

“Uh-huh. I…I’ve been left behind, I’m afraid.” As for Priestess, she’d come into contact with Female Knight more than once. She could get away with mimicking her tone and annoyance (with a giggle).

“Gods above. Bunch of bastards. Toy with a woman’s purity of heart, will they?” Female Knight snorted derisively, but finally shrugged. Priestess couldn’t tell if she was being facetious.

“Boys…can be…so…selfish, yes?” an alluring voice broke in, sending a shiver down Priestess’s spine. This was someone whose presence always made her feel even more novice than usual. “I’ve suffered the same…fate…as you two.”

“Both of you?” Priestess asked, blinking. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Our kids and our accountant got dragged off by that dwarf of yours in the name of seeing a bit more of the world.” Female Knight fixed Priestess with a glare that caused her to squeak, “I’m very sorry…” Yes, the matter had been discussed and agreed to, but it could still sting.

Does this mean I’m starting to understand the unspoken rules of this world? Priestess wondered. She would have liked to think that her interpersonal skills had improved somewhat, but at the moment, it didn’t really feel like it.

What a blessing it would be to have some way to grasp her own abilities and talents at a single glance.

“Hrm. Anyway, that still leaves your elf. Where’s she?”

“Oh,” Priestess said, her gaze briefly flitting to the ceiling. “Still sleeping, I think.”

“In other words, you’ve got time to kill. Perfect, that settles it!” Female Knight announced, clapping her hands as if this decided everything. Then she called out “Hey!” in the direction of the reception desk.

“Yes ma’am,” a Guild employee her party often worked with said, as if she understood exactly what Female Knight wanted. She quickly started going through some paperwork.

Priestess and (probably) Witch, for their part, still weren’t sure what was going on. They looked at each other in surprise.

“C’mon, we’ve got a warrior—hell, a knight—and a wizard, cleric, and a ranger. Just one thing to do, right?” Female Knight smiled like a wild animal, baring her teeth, an expression Priestess recognized very well.

“Go on an adventure!”

§

“Why play by the rules? Why not just burst into the enemy encampment and start chopping off heads?”

“We can’t do that.”

“Sure, of course not…………… Are you sure?”

“I thought you were supposed to be a big, bad knight. You sound like a rank amateur…”

Thus it was, how Female Knight’s invitation led them to the situation in which they now found themselves.

The scarlet sun of twilight played over the stronghold’s mess hall—which was the fancy name they’d given to one of the big open spaces. Pelts had been laid on the ground and some long chests had been set out, some as chairs, some as tables. The soldiers ate restlessly.

Priestess, seated directly between High Elf Archer and Female Knight, laughed out loud at their conversation. The two of them seemed to work well together, somehow.

“I can tell I’m just not putting enough spirit into it, that’s the problem. When I really get serious, I’ll slice that flying pissant right out of the sky.”

“Even elvish heroes can only execute a flying attack under absolutely ideal circumstances. There’s no way a human could do it.”

“Grrr…”

Priestess offered another empty “Ha-ha-ha!” It was good they weren’t feeling too morose. Probably. She glanced in Witch’s direction for help, but she only took a few elegant puffs of her pipe. Every time she brazenly uncrossed and recrossed her legs, the collective gaze of the soldiers was riveted to her thighs.

I’m sure she realizes… Right? Priestess looked at the ground, unable to stop her cheeks from blushing. She could feel her heart beat faster inside her modest chest, and her brain didn’t seem to be working as well as usual.

How did we end up like this…? she asked herself. The stronghold was naturally under the command of the military, but soldiers wouldn’t be the only ones there. After all, where the army went, priests and prostitutes followed, as well as caravans of merchants, and even battlefield scavengers. Businessmen who loaded their wares onto a cart and rolled it up to the door of a fortress weren’t all that unusual. And to act as their bodyguard was an adventure—adventurer’s work.

Priestess was open to it, but it wasn’t for her alone to decide. She first had to consult with High Elf Archer, and picking her way through the elf’s bedroom, where there was hardly a place to put her feet, had been a minor adventure in itself.

Naturally, she’d responded cheerfully that it sounded like a great idea. And so the four women formed a chattering, bantering envoy, accompanying the cart all the way to the stronghold—leading to the situation in which they now found themselves.

The merchant had been right in the middle of negotiations when the wyvern and the army of zombies had shown up, and they found themselves in the middle of a siege. Of course, the quest Priestess and her friends had undertaken was only to see the merchant to the fortress, so they were free of their contract the moment they reached its gates.

They hadn’t accepted a quest, wouldn’t get any money, and had nothing to do with this—so in principle, they could simply turn around and go home. But this, in High Elf Archer’s estimation, would have been to abandon their awesomeness as adventurers. They’d happily chosen to come on the initial adventure, and if it happened to lead to more adventure still, they should go for it.

Because we’re adventurers.

“…But still, what’s going on here?” Priestess said to herself, taking a mouthful of a soup composed of beans, onions, and potatoes, with a modicum of meat. There was the blue shadow that refused to show its true form. The nightmare creature, half bird and half deer, that flew overhead. She’d never heard of nor seen such a thing before. She didn’t recall them being in the Monster Manual, either. Just about all she knew about it was…

“…It’s not a goblin.”

“It’s, a…peryton.”

“A what?” The whispered word took Priestess by surprise. She discovered that Witch, who had been puffing idly on her pipe until that moment, was suddenly looking directly at her.

Priestess straightened up abruptly, earning a chuckle and a smile from Witch. “The beast…with the blue…shadow. A creature out of fantasy… It doesn’t…exist.” Her words—her explanation, such as it was—seemed to emerge from a haze. Priestess watched Witch closely, listening hard to catch every last thing she said. “So it’s impossible…to defeat it, you see. To hunt a creature that…doesn’t exist, can be done only within…a dream of…hunting.”

“Within a dream…”

Witch often seemed elusive, but she didn’t lie. Priestess furrowed her brow and thought hard, and after a moment she grimaced as she found her conclusion. “So this…thing that doesn’t exist. It’s…impossible to defeat?”

“Why, from…the very start. It was…never…there, you see?”

But… That still left one thing unexplained. If it didn’t exist, how could it do anything to them? How could it attack people, kill soldiers, make proclamations of war, or command the undead?

“It doesn’t exist, but…it does.”

“That’s, right.” Witch nodded, exhaling sweet-smelling smoke. It left her full lips and floated off into the sky, forming mysterious letters. Priestess watched it go as if it might hold the answer to the riddle. After frowning for another moment, she grunted. “Urgh,” Priestess said, sounding like a little girl, as she laid herself across the table. She probably would have mussed furiously at her own hair, if the Temple hadn’t taught her better manners than that. “It just doesn’t make any sense…”

Her mumble was overpowered by a pounding on the table. “Yeah, the girl’s right! Talk sense, dammit!” Female Knight’s face was bright red. She had either started listening in at some point, or else had been drinking the entire time. Judging by the mug in her hand, the latter seemed by far the more likely.

She slammed the mug on the table again, drawing looks from the surrounding soldiers. “I just want to know one thing: Can we take it down or can’t we?! If it bleeds, then I can kill it!”

“…” Witch’s eyes narrowed—whether she was put off or amused was hard to say. “…I should…think…so.”

“That’s all I needed to hear!” Female Knight shouted. Then she said, “Good!” and grabbed a bottle of wine that was lying on the ground by her feet. She didn’t bother to pour, but drank directly from the bottle—which was still substantially full—draining it in a single long gulp. “The point is, we can win this thing! So listen up, everyone! Don’t give that beast a second thought! Have some fun, drink your fill, eat what you want, and then get some sleep!” An audacious claim—a less generous soul might say baseless—but Female Knight proclaimed it with utmost conviction.

Priestess was somewhat taken aback, but the soldiers immediately exclaimed, “Huzzah!” Someone said, “If a Silver-ranked knight thinks we can do it, we can do it!”

“I’m more than just a knight!” Female Knight yelled, pouting. It was cute; the expression seemed quite at home on her gorgeous face. “I’m a paladin who serves none other than the Supreme God!”

“Yes! Yes!” came the response. There wasn’t a soldier alive who would choose morosely contemplating a deadly enemy over a bit of rejoicing. If someone was willing to take a shot at raising their morale, that was enough for them.

The silence that had hung over the mess area a moment before had vanished, replaced by rather premature talk of a victory celebration. More wine was produced from the storehouses, along with the provisions they had been conserving until now—bacon and ham and bread. One might have expected the captain or the commander of the stronghold to stop them, but it was they who were bringing the provisions out.

Amidst the hubbub, Female Knight looked in Priestess’s direction and winked. She’s really something… Priestess thought. She didn’t know whether Female Knight had planned this, or had simply been being honest, but she had managed to single-handedly change the mood in the stronghold. In fact, Priestess rued her earlier fuss about how things had made no sense. So many people had been watching and listening.

…I shouldn’t do that.

She gave her head a shake and smacked herself on the cheeks. It would do no one any good for her to get swallowed up in self-recrimination, become depressed and anxious, and finally stop doing anything at all. Instead, she needed to think, then think some more, and then finally act. That’s what he would do.

“…All right!” With her thoughts working once again, Priestess didn’t even notice Witch’s limpid gaze on her.

That monster doesn’t exist. And something that didn’t exist couldn’t be wiped out of existence. Because it hadn’t been there in the first place.

“So I guess…that means…?”

“If you can hit it, that’s all that matters, right?” That voice. It was so clear: High Elf Archer’s words were working their way easily into Priestess’s consciousness.

“Huh…?” She looked over to discover the elf had moved to the window. She was watching the celebrating soldiers happily as the wind played with her long hair. The sun was low in the sky now, dyeing the world red, but it seemed to be different, somehow, for a high elf. Those last beams of sunlight made her hair gleam golden.

Then the archer gave a wave of her hand and said easily, “You just have to hit it with something. Am I wrong?”

“Huh? Well…” Priestess tried to get ahold of her disorganized thoughts. “You really think so?!”

She craned her neck to look over at Witch, who didn’t speak, but only tugged on the brim of her hat. Sometimes she was at her most eloquent when she said nothing at all.

“You’re asking what something is that exists but doesn’t exist. That’s what it comes down to,” High Elf Archer said nonchalantly. If you can hit on an answer, then it exists.” She gave a sort of hissing laugh, like a cat. “Simple, right?”

“I see! Then you could—”

Then you could take it down. Priestess, trying hard not to let go of the answer she’d finally got ahold of, clenched her fist and nodded.

The foe had said it would appear at noon the next day. They could set an ambush for it, then. Female Knight and High Elf Archer in the front row. In the back, Witch…and herself.

They couldn’t expect the enemy to simply stand around now that they knew who and what it was. So offense would be paramount. It would be no time for the two on the front row to stand around solving riddles. And so it would be up to Witch—or Priestess herself.

When she reached this point in her thought process, though, Priestess furrowed her brow. “I can’t possibly do it,” she said despondently. This wasn’t a matter of a lack of self-esteem, but, in her mind, a simple fact. The reality was that, to this point, she hadn’t come up with anything approaching an answer. And out of the four women in her party at this moment, she was definitely not the most intelligent one. “Instead of me, how about…”

You? she was about to say, but before the word had left her mouth, she found a slim finger pressed to her lips to silence her.

“Wizards, you see…leave things ambiguous…and…use them…ambiguously.” Priestess swallowed the word back down, and Witch went on melodically. “For if…a thing has one single meaning…then no other meaning can…exist… You see?”

Priestess, unfortunately, really didn’t. She detected a faintly sweet aroma from Witch’s finger that she thought must be the tobacco, and she quickly pulled herself away. No, she couldn’t grasp the real meaning. It was literally shrouded in smoke.

But she did understand what it was Witch wanted to make understood. The proof was in how Witch smiled gently at her and said in a sweet whisper, “Just…try and take…a guess, eh…? From you yourself.”

§

“…What, can’t sleep?”

Of course not—how could she?

The cots in the garrison were simple but soft, decidedly more pleasant to sleep on than the beds at the temple. Probably even nicer than the economy rooms at the Adventurers Guild’s inn. She’d wrapped herself in her blanket, stared at the ceiling, closed her eyes, turned over a few times, then opened her eyes again.

Cold light from the twin moons streamed in through the window. All around her, soldiers slept (this was the female dorm, of course), their measured breathing the only sound.

She’d tossed and turned a few more times, knowing she needed to sleep soon, unable to do so. What if she wasn’t able to sleep at all, right through until morning? …No. Even if I did manage to sleep, I might be killed in my bed and never wake up again.

Priestess was assaulted by sudden anxiety, but she let out a sigh. This was ridiculous. It was a cowardly thought, laughably so, and yet…

All this was what made the unexpected question such a relief to her.

“Um…” After a moment’s thought, Priestess decided to own the fact. “…No, not a wink.”

“Well, there it is,” Female Knight whispered from a nearby cot. “Being able to fall right asleep is a talent all its own.” She added how jealous she was of the elf. One heard that elves didn’t really need to sleep, but could it be true? Maybe they were simply capable of sleeping when and as they wished, and being awake when it suited them. But whatever the case…

…I agree. I’m jealous, Priestess thought. She considered her friend—almost like a much older sister—sleeping on the cot across from hers. “Er, what about you…?”

“I was sleeping until a moment ago. Just happened to open my eyes.” The cot on her other side creaked faintly. Priestess turned over again, and there she found a beauty bathed in the blue moonlight. Female Knight looked at her and smiled mischievously. “The night before a big battle’s just like the night before an adventure. I get all excited and, well—here I am.”

The moonlight fell on her lovely features, revealing the face of a child who was about to get up to no good.

Priestess was at a loss for how to respond. She looked up at the ceiling of the garrison, searching for the words. Finally, all she came up with was “That’s really something.” If nothing else, it had the virtue of being the truth. Female Knight was simply excited; she carried none of the anxiousness that burdened Priestess at that moment.

“Heh-heh,” Female Knight said proudly, and her blanket (which bulged in more places than Priestess’s did) shifted. “Still, I’m only at about eighty percent. Doesn’t matter the fight—if you can handle it at sixty or eighty percent, that’s ideal.”

Priestess blinked once. Then she pulled the blanket up so it covered her mouth, and looked at Female Knight. “…Really?”

“Trust me. You can’t go around fighting all your battles at full tilt.”

“Er…” Well, she was right. “…I see, that’s true.”

“Yeah, right?” Female Knight laughed again, and then she went on, “Take tomorrow’s battle, say. You can’t help thinking about what you’ll do, how you’ll handle it.”

Gulp. Priestess swallowed visibly, but nodded. She knew how childish the gesture must look.

“You picture yourself chopping up bad guys, taking out every enemy from here to the horizon.”

“Uh…huh.”

“Come on, admit it.”

“Well, er… All right. Yes.” Priestess couldn’t bring herself to spell it out exactly, but this seemed to be enough for Female Knight.

“But that’s the thing. When you get to the actual fight, you can only do—I dunno, it depends on the enemy, but let’s say fifty bad guys.” Sounding like a child complaining the dinner wasn’t what she expected, the knight continued, “But that’s fifty if you’re a great warrior. If you assume you can take down fifty guys, the number you can probably kill is, say, three.”

“Is that true?”

“Pretty much.”

Priestess’s interjection was feeble, Female Knight’s response indifferent. But the knight’s next words had a cutting edge.

“You afraid of getting too big for your britches?”

“Oh, uh, no, I…” Well, that was part of it. She couldn’t deny it, and yet… Embarrassed, Priestess pulled the blanket even closer. “…It’s more like, everyone else just seems so amazing. It makes me realize how far I’ve still got to go…”

She thought about how she had behaved during the battle that day, and at dinner that night. She hardly felt she had a leg to stand on in the presence of this knight. It was almost too humiliating even to compare the two of them. Such feelings were with her constantly.

She’d only just recently grown able to recognize that she was accomplishing anything at all.

“Nothing wrong with a little arrogance,” Female Knight said, blowing away Priestess’s ideals in a few words. Then she flopped back on her cot, which groaned again. Priestess took this as her cue to look back up at the ceiling. It was wooden, old and weathered, hard to call beautiful. Perhaps this was what ceilings should look like on a battlefield, she thought.

“So what if someone sasses you about it? They only see what they want to see.”

“What they want to see?”

“They ignore all the effort we’ve put into getting where we are. Act like we’re just full of ourselves because we’re strong. Hrmph.” Female Knight snorted, as if she were spitting out the sound along with the words.

Could it be? Priestess thought then. Could it be that Female Knight was actually talking to her?

She had thought something similar, hadn’t she? She’d seen Female Knight’s feats on the battlefield as nothing more than amazing. She hadn’t considered everything Female Knight must have done to come to that point.

“Ah, who cares? You be as full of yourself as you want, until there’s no room left for them.” While others complained about her, she would keep moving forward.

The words Female Knight spoke seemed to Priestess as if they came from a dizzying height.

Of course they do. The two of them had become adventurers at such different times. They had walked different roads, gained different things along the way. And that wasn’t just true of Priestess and Female Knight, but of her and the strange adventurer she was constantly chasing. It was the same with her other party members. And indeed with many people she had met.

So that must mean…

Maybe she could catch up. Maybe.

“…Gotta warn you, that’s just how to become a strong adventurer. I don’t know if it makes you a good adventurer.”

“You don’t know?” Priestess repeated, taken aback.

“Don’t know what you don’t know,” Female Knight said, pursing her lips. “I know I’m pure and just and powerful, but whether that’s good or bad, that’s for other people to decide. I’ve got no way of saying what’ll become of you.”

“But you’re teaching those kids, aren’t you?” Priestess said, pouting a little herself. She wasn’t really angry; she wasn’t even really pouting. It might have been most accurate to say she was looking for a little comfort—although she would certainly have denied it.

“I take no responsibility for how that turns out—that’s the whole idea,” replied Female Knight. “No way to take responsibility, anyhow,” she added gaily. “If they die, what am I supposed to do—take revenge? Quit adventuring? Kill myself? Will any of those things mean I’ve taken responsibility?” She could turn to a life of crime, but it wouldn’t do any good. Female Knight announced this completely naturally, then snorted again. “The Supreme God tells us to think. Can’t go blaming other people for everything that happens to me.”

It wasn’t that Priestess didn’t understand this—indeed, she understood it very well. She still remembered her first adventure all too clearly. They could have avoided that tragic outcome—she could have avoided it—but she couldn’t blame it on anyone else. If anyone had tried to claim that the failure of that adventure had been the fault of one of her other party members, she would have objected vociferously. At the very least, her own powerlessness, if nothing else, had put her at fault.

So what does that work out to?

There was the strong adventurer Female Knight talked about. The one that didn’t necessarily mean being a good adventurer.

So what was a good adventurer?

Priestess felt sure that Female Knight, and High Elf Archer, Witch, and Goblin Slayer were all good adventurers. For that matter, what kind of adventurer did she even want to be…?

After what might have been one minute, or five, or possibly less than ten seconds, she sighed with resignation. “I think rather than worrying…it would be better to think about how to win.”

“Bigger is always better,” Female Knight said with a laugh. Then she gestured with her eyes, toward one of the other cots. Distracting snoring came from it. The blanket covered two large hills, and the graceful curves of a beautiful body were quite plain. It was Witch’s bed.

Priestess whispered that she understood. And then she and Female Knight tried to keep themselves from laughing too loud.

Their giggles soon tapered off, and Priestess let her gaze drift from the ceiling to the window. The moonlight was still illuminating the night, a pale shimmer washing over the cots.

“Um,” Priestess said, finally finding the courage to speak—but once the sound was out of her mouth, she found she had nowhere to go with it. “Why…?”

For a brief moment, there was no answer. Just as Priestess was starting to think Female Knight must have drifted off, her voice came whispering through the dark. “Why’d I become an adventurer, you mean?”

Yes. Priestess nodded under her covers, but didn’t voice the word. “I don’t have to know to talk to you. But I wouldn’t want it to end without knowing the answer.”

When she thought about it, she realized this might be the most she had ever spoken with Female Knight. You could certainly be someone’s companion without knowing their past or their personal situation. You could even be friends. You could certainly fight alongside them. But sometimes it all ended and you never found out. Priestess thought she would regret that deeply.

“Huh, so that’s your motivation. I thought it might come up some time, but… Well. Me, I…” Female Knight shifted under her covers, lapsing into silence. Maybe she was getting her thoughts together, or maybe she couldn’t find the words. Finally, there was a resigned sigh. “Once upon a time…a certain country was engulfed in political strife. The prince killed his father, brothers, and sisters, and usurped the throne.”

It was a story of something that had happened long ago. The only princess to survive the slaughter requested an adventurer—the illegitimate daughter of the crown prince’s younger brother; in other words, her cousin—to get revenge. Priestess had heard that it wasn’t so much a quest proper as it was that the adventurer had gone to help of his own accord. But Female Knight swore it had been nothing more than a quest, and that the adventurer had gone to do battle with the usurper.

He and the Princess had turned a group of would-be assassins to their cause, and ultimately destroyed the man who had stolen the throne. And then they vanished from history…

“Why do you bring them up?”

“It’d be cool to be able to say they were my parents or grandparents or something, but actually they’re way further back than that. Don’t even know if it’s true.” Female Knight closed her eyes and spoke like she was polishing a river stone she’d collected when she was a child. “But I like to think it’s true.”

And so she’d learned the sword arts passed down through her family, left home, and become an adventurer. Apparently, the story ended there—that was all there was to it.

Priestess thought for a moment, then a smile crept across her face. “…So you were a princess yourself.”

“Ha-ha-ha. Guess so. If the world were a better place, I’d be a princess right now. A princess…a princess knight.” Her voice sounded so immensely gentle. “We ought to get some shut-eye now. Tomorrow’s a big day. Although believe me, I understand being too excited to sleep.”

“…Right,” Priestess said, then pulled the covers over herself once more. Just before she closed her eyes, she stole one last glance out the window. The two moons were still shining, but now they didn’t seem quite so cold.

§

Soon enough, the sun was climbing into the sky. The stronghold filled with the sound of clashing swords, flying arrows, and the desperate recitation of magical chants. The soldiers were tired, but despite the fatigue and occasional anxious glances at the sky, morale was still good. There was every appearance that they would not break, that the fortress would not fall.

Priestess, for her part, was standing squarely in the stronghold’s inner courtyard. Her sounding staff was proudly in her hand. She stood prepared—and yet she had to admit it felt uncomfortable not to be doing anything.

“…Why do you suppose the enemy is trying this?”

“Because they know they can’t win in a straight fight, that’s why!”

Priestess was happy to hear High Elf Archer’s reply to the question that slipped out of her. The elf was crouched in the shadows, stringing her bow with spider’s silk; her long ears twitched. “In war games, it’s not the individual soldiers who make all the difference, it’s the commanders,” she said. So, she claimed, she’d heard from various elders.

High Elf Archer herself had no practical experience in pitched combat, but she was a close relation of some who had participated in the battles of the Age of the Gods. She might only have the knowledge she’d absorbed from them, but that put her understanding as far above Priestess’s as the clouds were above the mud.

“You really think it’s that big a difference?”

“Well, there’s exceptions to every rule, and a really powerful hero can turn the tide… But basically, yeah.”

But with adventurers, it was different. On an adventure, it was individual skill and power, each person’s intelligence and courage, that meant the most.

“If this were an adventure, and the adventurer lost?” High Elf Archer said. “Then everyone would run away.”

Priestess thought about that one. “Umm… You mean, like, if two knights had a duel?”

“Yeah, sort of,” High Elf Archer replied with a wink. “It’s a big responsibility. Can’t let ourselves get beat—same as always!”

Priestess nodded, but she also looked up at the watchtower, where the captain was continuing to command the action. He hadn’t registered very much with her; she’d hardly spoken to him. But she was sure his command was superb. Otherwise, she believed such a small stronghold could never have held out so long.

O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy… In her heart, Priestess offered up a prayer to bless him. May that prayer be protected.

“…Doing okay?”

Maybe Priestess’s sudden silence had left High Elf Archer thinking she was anxious or upset. Priestess smiled to see her friend watching her so seriously, even though the expression looked out of place here on the battlefield. To be able to pray for someone’s safety truly warmed the heart.

“Yes—we’re going to do this!”

Yes, indeed. High Elf Archer waved a hand in acknowledgment. Her lips formed the words: Give ’em hell. It made Priestess happy. Then the high elf went quiet, as still as if she were moss growing on a stone in the forest; she gave no hint of her presence. Priestess was careful not to look around, but she was sure the others were just the same way. Female Knight and Witch were hidden right where they had planned to hide, she was certain of it.

That means I just have to do my part… I think.

She wondered if that strange, eccentric adventurer was worrying about her. She doubted it. But if he was, she wanted to be an adventurer worthy of his concern.

Priestess bit her lip with fresh conviction, then looked resolutely at the heavens. The sun was nearly at its zenith. And then, with no warning whatsoever, it appeared.

There was a gusting breeze, and a shadow swept among the ranks like a whirlwind. Several of the soldiers it touched fell writhing to the ground.

“Mm… So, girl, you found the fortitude not to run away.” Just like the day before, the monster appeared—this time cloaked in a chilling pale white cold. To Priestess, it seemed to be the chill of death.

The way the creature mixed stag and bird almost arbitrarily was like something out of a nightmare. It was a blotch on the otherwise beautiful blue sky.

“…I did.” Priestess grasped her sounding staff firmly, seeking sure footing as she turned toward the beast. Her hands did not shake. Her voice was steady. Her vision was clear, her footing firm.

“Then offer up to me your life!” The monster howled with pleasure. It was thinking only of how to shred the dignity of this poor, unfortunate cleric. “Let the feast of slaughter begin!”

Priestess’s voice, though, rang out over the battlefield, refuting the creature’s awful desire: “When you speak my name, I disappear. What am I?!”

§

“Hrk…?!” The peryton gulped audibly. The sapphire shadow had not realized that the battle had already begun.

Had this been any ordinary fight, the peryton would most likely have crushed the girl’s skull in its talons. Or perhaps it would have torn off her limbs, and only then cracked her head like a walnut.

But this was not an ordinary fight. It was the peryton that had sought a deciding duel, and this small girl who had risen to the challenge. As such, the girl held her staff high, boldly facing the monster.

Riddles were more than a game for children. They were an important ritual, laid down by the gods from days of old, a way of settling matters. They constituted one of the highest forms of combat, permitted only to those who had words, who had intelligence. No one, be they a god or a wizard, dared to cheat at this game. If you doubt it, acquaint yourself with the tale of the rhea’s adventures. Or else the riddles of the five dragons, or the battle with a dragon that lasted a solid two minutes.

Whichever you may choose, the peryton now had no way to back out of the riddle challenge. The upraised staff, the clear eyes that shone beyond it, and the prayer to the Earth Mother that radiated from them both.

“Arneson!” the creature cursed. The beast of Chaos could be as enraged as it wanted, but to try to nullify this would be to invite its own destruction.

It might curse the gods, but the module had been set into motion.

When you speak my name,

I disappear.

What am I?

The girl proclaimed the riddle at the top of her lungs, as if specifically wanting to agonize the monster.

“…I can tell you that. It’s silence. It must be.” The peryton was careful to make sure the irritation it felt emerged as no more than a slight undertone of mockery in its voice. “Life is beautiful, is it not, little girl?”

“Indeed, so it is,” Priestess said. “I fully agree.”

“I wonder if you’ll sing the same song when I’ve brought you to the cusp of death.”

The threat was not remotely subtle, and yet the young woman didn’t so much as tremble. “It’s your turn. Go ahead.”

“Very well.” The peryton’s deer face smiled, a hideous rictus that would never have appeared on the face of any real deer. “There is more to this world than you would ever dream of.”

It is yours, unquestionably,

yet you never use it.

Others use it, endlessly,

but at the end it’s cast away like a stone.

What is it?

The peryton was getting its revenge with this question; the girl seemed uncertain. Her gaze wandered for a second and her lips opened and closed—but all that came out was a brief exhale, not an answer.

“What’s the matter? If you can’t tell me, then allow me to begin by crushing you under my talons.” Yes, the peryton was convinced it was seeing terror in the girl’s eyes, and added this taunt to fan the fires of fear. It had observed that humans, for whatever reason, were more intimidated by tone of voice than by an overwhelming presence.

The girl, however, looked straight at the peryton, squeezing out syllables one by one. “It’s…a name. My name…… Isn’t it?”

“…Indeed, indeed. The name that shall soon be carved on your tombstone.” This time the peryton was unable to hide its displeasure; it nodded, speaking slowly and distinctly. It would not have been helpful to have the girl admit defeat so early in the game, but it was no less frustrating when she guessed the creature’s riddle.

The monster glowered up at the shining midday sun and spat, “Your turn, child.” And then, unable to leave it at that, it added, “Best think of the most confounding riddle you can.”

§

The riddle contest continued for two more rounds, then three, on and on. Priestess didn’t serve the God of Knowledge, yet she endured the game admirably. Had anyone voiced this praise, though, she would certainly have merely blushed and said it was thanks to the teaching of her master.

She might not have been able to cause the peryton real distress, but neither did she give an inch. Her talk with Female Knight had convinced her of one thing: Riddles were the only way to discern this creature’s true form. It was a battle she could take on alone, and one in which she could fight on equal terms with a monster she knew little or nothing about.

Of course, if she was facing an opponent whose intellect went beyond what she could imagine, then she might be inviting death in a matter of a few moments.

But that’s always a possibility if I fail in battle. And when it came to a battle of wits, she was confident that she had every chance of victory.

The sun baked the two of them, their shadows lengthened, and she felt sweat dribble down her forehead and her cheeks. She blinked once, her long eyelashes fluttering. She wiped her brow to ensure the sweat didn’t get in her eyes.

She wondered if the monster suffered from the sun in the same way she did. The blue-shrouded beast hovered in the air, flapping its wings, and occasionally glanced resentfully at the sky.

—…?

Priestess cocked her head. Something about the glance seemed odd to her. How much heat could the creature withstand?

“What’s wrong—do you give up? If so, say ‘I give up,’ and then bow your head beneath my claws.”

“Oh, ahem, no,” Priestess said, the creature’s triumphant boast bringing her to her senses. She shook her head. “As it eats, it grows. But the slightest drink—”

“Fire,” the peryton said promptly. “Fire dies if it ‘drinks’ water.”

Grrr… That hadn’t been a very good riddle. Priestess exhaled. Her mind was starting to dull. This wouldn’t do. She shook her head again, then brushed away the hair stuck to her cheeks. She was all too aware of the blue-shadowed creature watching her with disdain. And of the soldiers who observed the contest on tenterhooks, even as they continued their own battle. She was sure High Elf Archer, Female Knight, and that beautiful witch were watching, too.

It’s…kind of nerve-racking.

The only thing she could do was conduct the fight in a way that would make her proud of herself. Do battle like she expected to win, even if she lost.

Priestess took a few quick, hard breaths to steady herself, and then managed to smile as she said, “Your next riddle, then.”

“As you wish…” The peryton grimaced at the sky again, sulfurous breath coming out its nostrils as it ground its teeth and shook its head on its long neck. “I was just starting to think I might make things a little easier on you. Are you ready? Not that I would wait if you weren’t…” And then the monster intoned the next terrible riddle.

In the morning, small on four legs,

at noon, tall on two.

But at eventide, a third leg is added.

What is this being I speak of?

“Go ahead. Solve my riddle, if you can.” The creature spoke quickly, as if assured of its victory. Priestess smiled, ambiguous, almost awkward. She knew the answer to this one. Knew it very well. Could it be the creature was relenting a little?

Or is it just like me—getting tired?

Or again, could it be a trick question? If it was, though, no other answer came to her.

“Hmm, umm…” Priestess searched her mind, deeply unsettled, and then with all hesitation and trembling she said, “It’s…a shape-shifter, right?”

§

“…What?”

“Well, of course, it must be…a shape-shifter.” Was she wrong? Priestess was suddenly very anxious. She quickly added: “I mean, ahem, a mimic. It can turn itself into anything it wants. Like a treasure chest, or a door, or some loot…” She’d heard they could even come flying at you, and that they could creep along on four legs. That was the answer. It had to be. “Right…? Or, um, perhaps…you’ve never heard of this creature?”

“I know what a mimic is, you damnable fool!” the peryton howled, baring its teeth. It seemed Priestess’s innocent question had touched the monster’s pride. The eyes of the deer that was no deer flashed with rage, and it growled out: “Well, what does it matter? It was never an even fight between you and me. Give up now. Man! The answer is man. The ‘morning’ is its infancy—”

“Oh…” Priestess blinked, and then she pointed out simply, “You just said ‘I give up.’”

“I said no such thing!” The peryton’s temper finally snapped, and it landed angrily on the ground with its terrible claws. Priestess felt the thump in her belly when the creature came down to earth, and let out an involuntary squeak. She was only surprised, but she glanced around, worried it might have been taken for a sound of fear.

The peryton could say what it wished, but a human didn’t grow and shrink throughout the hours of the day. In fact, no living creature that she knew of was taller or shorter depending on whether it was morning or night. Maybe a candle; that was the only thing she could think of, but then the rest of the riddle wouldn’t make any sense…

“—!”

At that instant, there was a flash of insight, bright as lightning in her brain. Priestess seized upon it. She gripped her sounding staff tightly. It made a lonely rattle. There was no hesitation, no reluctance in her words, no fear at all. She held her staff high, brandishing it at the enraged monster, and unleashed the next words with a thunderous crash.

It shall appear by your side without fail,

at any time or place you might be!

You cannot flee from it!

Nor can you speak with it!

There it is, beside you!

Too bad for you! Best give up!

“Wha—?!” The peryton took another deep breath. The fire danced in its eyes. Priestess didn’t hesitate.

“You’re a shadow! A person’s shade!!” She grasped the staff even harder, fanning the fires of her soul. Raising it so it would reach the gods in their high heaven. “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness!”

There was a great flash of light. The sunlight combined with the Holy Light that Priestess produced, the two of them together eating away at the monster’s flesh. The wind carried the pieces away like embers. The bizarre beast was just a shadow, one that was now stripped away in the twinkling of an eye.

“C—curse youuuu…!”

“Clavis…caliburnus…nodos. Key to steel, bind!”

As the creature tried launching itself off the ground and back into the air, a melodic incantation sounded words of true power. Witch stepped out of the darkness, her words clipping the creature’s wings. They had looked so large shrouded in shadow, but now, revealed by the light, they were shown to be only some feathers.

Of course: How could a foul creature like this have truly grasped the arts the great sage once used to bring low a dragon?

“You’re mine!” a voice like a bell called. Before the monster could pronounce a curse of death upon Priestess—the cause of all its trouble—a bud-tipped arrow pierced its jaw, pinning its tongue to the roof of its mouth, so it could form no words at all. As it reeled and fell to one side, the demon’s vision fixed upon the high elf, who had climbed up and perched upon the tower without its ever noticing.

“DDDDAAAAAEEEEMOOOOOOOONN!!!!!!” The monster was not about to give up its quarrel so easily. As it fell, and then struck the ground, this creature from the nether realm set off running on its four powerful limbs. If this was how things were to end, then it could at least tear out that girl’s throat before it went…

“Oh—” Priestess didn’t seem to quite grasp what had happened. All she knew was that suddenly, Female Knight was in front of her, crouching and ready. In fact, she seemed to be bowed slightly forward.

All Priestess thought she saw was this: Female Knight rushing past the demon at tremendous speed.

But that wasn’t all that had happened.

“Hmph,” Female Knight said, soft and low, the wind catching her beautiful golden hair. The platinum sword she gripped in her hand shone, even through the patina of demon blood that now stained it. It was only a moment later when somewhere, far behind Female Knight and Priestess, there came a sound of flesh splattering. Priestess looked back to discover the demon was now only a torso, where it had slammed against the wall. Its head, which had gone spiraling into the air, landed on the flagstones of the courtyard with a thump.

“A waste of my sword. That’s what this foul creature gets for trying to play games with an innocent girl. These damned night stalkers.” Female Knight shook the blood off her blade and returned it to its scabbard. Priestess realized that she had witnessed an ancient sword technique, one so long forgotten there were none left now to speak of it.

Everything Female Knight had said, every word of the story she had told, was true, Priestess realized.

“You’re very…very strong.”

“I know, right? Heh!” Female Knight puffed out her armor-clad chest, and Priestess’s face softened into a smile.

“That’s right!” she said.

Did she want to become a good adventurer, a strong adventurer, or neither? Priestess still didn’t know. But then she saw Female Knight give a great war whoop, and the soldiers respond with shouting and cheering, following her forth into the enemy encampment. She saw Witch turn to her with a warm smile and call out, “You did it!”

And Priestess knew she wanted to be an adventurer who could hold her head high before them.

“…I did it!” she said, throwing her small fists in the air in celebration.