Goblin Slayer - Volume 2 - Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – There And Back Again

To her, that world seemed a pure white, a blank space utterly suffused by light. 

The warm air, the refreshing breeze, the rustling of leaves, the grass against her bare skin. All of it. 

All of it was revitalizing, full of light, leaving no place for chaos. She walked through it all regally, feeling a gentle ease in her heart. 

Yes—she was at ease. That surprised her. 

These past several days, she had felt an unwonted warmth in her heart. She could not fathom what it was, but she had an idea of where it had come from. 

It had begun when she had slept with the injured man—or so she thought. 

He was an average warrior of no special genius, whose body spoke of a singular devotion to training. All the more reason she treasured it more than that of any hero. She even saw the value of each of the scars in his skin and hers as she pressed against him. 

Suddenly, she stopped. 

Soft footsteps were making their way through the grass of the Temple garden. 

Something black amid the white. A hazy, dark silhouette. 

Her lips parted slightly, and a thin smile crept onto her face. 

How could she forget that form? 

“How good to see you well.” 

The silhouette—he—nodded briefly. 

He was wearing leather armor and a steel helmet; at his hip was a sword that seemed a strange length. Many a time she had dreamed of him, a swimming darkness concealing his warrior’s form. 

“I’ve come with a question,” he said and strode boldly up to her side. 

She was briefly lost as to how to act. Should she remain aloof, or would an honest smile be better? To look too delighted would be childish and shameful. 

“Yes, what is it? If it is within my power to answer…” 

In the end, she chose her usual calm smile. To her, that seemed most like her. She hoped he would think so, too. 

She wondered what expression he wore. The misty form she saw revealed nothing. Though even if she had been able to see, his helmet still would have hidden him from her. 

And that was just a bit of a shame. 

In a soft voice, he said: 

“You knew everything, didn’t you?” 

She felt her heart skip a beat, her cheeks grow hot. She drew her sword-and-scales staff near to herself, then gave an invigorating stretch of her back. 

How she hoped her voice would not tremble. 

“…Yes. I did.” 

She could hear him breathe softly, “I see.” 

It was the same dispassionate tone he had used when they had first met and when they had spoke in bed. 

She found that strangely, impossibly saddening. 

Only now did she realize she had expected something to change. She had never had such an unsettling feeling before. 

“But…how did you figure it out?” 

“I didn’t.” 

She gave him a curious cock of her head. 

“I intended to ask that of everyone who was in a position to know.” 

“Everyone…,” Sword Maiden murmured. “Heh. Is that so…?” 

She found herself puffing out her cheeks at the touch of disappointment. 

That’s disgraceful. Don’t be so childish, she chided herself. 

“Perhaps I should have been less forthcoming, then…” She sighed lightly and looked at him—at his shadow. “Still…I’m not unhappy to be the first one you asked.” 

Her lips turned up slightly, forming a half circle. Did she do it? Or did it just happen? She herself wasn’t sure. 

“May I ask why you suspected?” 

“A number of reasons.” 

The dark shadow shifted slightly in her vision. It had a bold, unconcerned gait. Yet it made no sound. 

She loved the way he walked. 

“That white… What was it called?” 

“Alligator?” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “Something like that. I don’t believe that was a random encounter.” 

“You think it was a planned encounter, then.” 

“At least to the extent that it tried to chase us away and unilaterally attacked the goblins.” 

“Do you know you sound just a tad paranoid?” 

He shook his head in reply. “You have ruins like this and yet no maps and no rat-killing quests. Adventurers avoid the place. There aren’t even any patrols. It’s impossible.” 

“Aren’t you knowledgeable.” 

“…Yes,” Goblin Slayer said. “When it comes to adventurers, I am.” 

“Hee-hee.” A giggle burbled up from the back of her throat at his blunt answer. 

“In other words, there had to be something standing guard down there… A familiar.” 

“…” 

She said nothing, only stared at him with the smile pasted on her face. 

She hated to admit it—but it would be shameful to deny it, as well. He was right: The alligator was a guardian of order in the service of the Supreme God, the protector of the city’s underground. 

The chill of the rain, the heat of battle, the stench of goblins, the rusty blades piercing scale and skin. 

She had entered the bath to ease the sensations she shared with the alligator. 

The thought of the way she had exposed herself to the priestess there made her cheeks burn so brightly even she could feel them. 

“Ironic, isn’t it?” she whispered. “That the messenger of the Supreme God should protect the city and the city alone.” 

“Then you know.” The ones who killed the woman, spilled her innards, and left her corpse— “They weren’t goblins.” 

He was right again. 

Goblins are cowardly, cruel, brutal, and not very smart. It would probably never occur to them to linger in human territory to vivisect and devour their prey. 

Their unfortunate captives were always taken back to the nest, to be diligently stripped of their virtue there. Or, if the prisoners were numerous enough, the goblins might simply toy with them until they died. 

Whatever the case, their death would not be easy. 

She knew all of this. 

“…No, they weren’t.” 

The scene was burned into her memory—quite literally. 

She had been shut up in a dark stone chamber, riddled with her own filth and that of her captors, crying piteously… 

They had burned both of her eyes with a torch. That was more than ten years ago now. 

“They were planning something with that mirror… The supporters of that infamous Demon God. The mastermind is—” 

No longer in this world. 

Somewhere altogether separate from them, everything was wrapping up. 

She slumped against a pillar, turning her unseeing eyes to the landscape beyond. 

“After all…” 

The white world swam before her. She looked at that endless blank and sighed. It was the sort of thing a young village girl bored of talking might have done. 

“After all, if goblins attacked, I’m sure I would just…break down weeping.” 

Sword Maiden was quite aware of the movements of the Evil Sect, against which she herself had once stood. When she had learned of the ghastly rituals of living sacrifice they were performing, she had a good idea of what they wanted to achieve. 

Revenge on her. Most forms of such retaliation, she could have endured. 

But goblins. 

Her feet trembled. Clutching the sword and scales, she finally stood. She was glad her eyes were hidden by the bandage. 

Who could she tell? 

Who could she tell that the hero called Sword Maiden needed to be saved from simple goblins? 

“Who would believe me?” 

As she spoke, she pulled back the cloth of her vestments gracelessly and began to massage her own shoulders. Her lips curled teasingly, and she said in a smirking tone: 

“What do you mean to do with me?” 

“Nothing.” He sounded the same as ever: dutiful, even, mechanical, cold. “Because you’re not a goblin.” 

She pursed her lips as if she were sulking—no, in fact, she was sulking. 

“That’s why you don’t ask why, isn’t it?” 

“If you want to talk, I will listen.” 

“Oh-ho.” A languid breath slipped out of her. “I wanted someone to understand.” 

A long gust of wind rustled branches and leaves and grass. 

Fear, sorrow, pain, terror, helplessness—such things are in this world, and in this world are people who do what inspires such things. 

“…I just wanted someone to understand.” 

Goblins lived under the town. 

They emerged from the sewers at night to attack people in the streets. Adventurers who were sent down after them didn’t return; there was no knowing who would become their victim and when. Goblins might be hiding under the bed, in the shadow of the door. If you fell asleep, they would attack you. She was sure everyone would feel that fear, just as she did. 

“But in the end…no one did…” 

In the end, no one lived in fear that goblins would kill them. It was always someone else who would die. Never them. 

“…I can give you that Gate mirror.” 

She put a fawning smile wide across her face. Even she knew it was all too obviously fake and fragile. 

“Surely you understand… You of all people must…” 

He interrupted her brusquely: 

“I got rid of it.” 

“What…?” For the first time, something other than a smile crossed her face. Surprise and a hint of confusion. “That was an ancient relic. A treasure worth thousands of gold pieces.” 

“Other goblins might have learned how to use it.” He spoke coldly, bluntly, as if to emphasize his disinterest. “We encased the mirror in concrete and sent it to the bottom of the canal. It will make a good bed for your white—whatever it’s called.” 

His silhouette did not waver an inch. He sounded as if this was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Heh-heh. You are most…most interesting indeed.” 

The overwhelming ordinariness of his speech made her feel all the stranger. She felt like she was floating; there was an uncommon ease of heart. 

“There can’t be many like you.” 

“Perhaps.” 

“Say. May I ask you something?” 

“I can’t promise I’ll know the answer,” he murmured. 

“Now that you’ve slain the goblins…has anything changed?” She spread her arms as she asked, like an innocent girl sharing a little secret. 

Heroes—heroes were different. 

When a hero put an end to the Evil Sect, justice and the world and peace and so on were all saved. But what of someone who helped a pitiful girl who was afraid of goblins? People would go on living quietly; the river would keep flowing. Nothing would change. Nothing. 

That was why no one had helped her. 

Even when a nameless priestess carelessly got herself captured by goblins and was debased. Even when the fifteen-year-old girl inside the woman acclaimed as Sword Maiden cried out for salvation. 

Who would deign to notice such things? 

Otherwise, how could she put out a goblin-slaying quest? 

“Surely nothing…nothing changes.” 

“I don’t care,” he answered without a moment’s hesitation. “You said you’ve been through terrible things, yes?” 

She nodded yes. 

“I have seen them. From start to finish. So I don’t understand your feelings.” Goblin Slayer was unequivocal. 

“?” 

Sword Maiden stood vacantly. 

She reached out gently, beseechingly, to the hazy shadow that floated in her white world. 

“…So, you will not help me?” 

“No.” 

He did not take her hand, but curtly turned his back on her. 

Her head hung as if she had been cast into the depths of hell, and she laughed mirthlessly. There was an element of resignation in it. A feeling she was all too familiar with. 

This is how it always goes. 

Her soul, once that of a maiden, had been wounded in every possible place. 

Even now, that awful scene, her last sight in the world, was burned into her eyes. At night, it would come to torment her. The horde of goblins defiling her, raping her, violating her, taking everything from her. 

And no one could save her from it. It would go on and on, forever… 

No one would help her. 

Ever. Not ever. 

“But.” 

She looked up in surprise at the single echoing word. 

“If goblins appear again, summon me.” 

The dark shadow, his back, was already far away. But his impassive, mechanical voice carried readily. 

“I will kill them for you.” 

“Oh…” 

She slid to her knees as if she were collapsing. Her exquisite features scrunched up and a sob escaped her mouth; she couldn’t restrain the tears that poured from her eyes. 

When was the last time she had cried harder than she did after one of her dreams? 

“Even… Even in my…my dreams?” 

“Yes.” 

“You…will… You will come…?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Her voice was shaking so badly she couldn’t say the word; it rolled half formed out of her mouth. 

But he answered her clearly: 

“Because I am Goblin Slayer.” 

The one who kills the little devils. 

The dark shadow called Goblin Slayer left her. 

Gone to destroy goblins. 

“Oh…” 

Sword Maiden found herself clawing at her generous chest. 

It was not pure or becoming. 

But she had never imagined a day like this would come. She had never imagined that she would once again be able to feel these feelings. She had thought them forever beyond her grasp, but now she clung to them. 

It was nothing. 

A broken woman had talked to a broken man. Nothing more than that. 

But now she knew the truth of the warmth that blossomed in her chest. It was a long-smoldering spark, unexpectedly fanned into a raging flame. Perhaps it could be compared to a hearth shared with another person: all things well, no cares, a peaceful sleep. 

No anxiousness, no fear. 

No quaking and weeping in the dark, no waking up from a nightmare screaming. 

How she had yearned for an undisturbed night’s sleep. 

“I… I… I—” 

She raised her voice, sniffling and sobbing. 

With her hands, she wiped desperately at the tears that poured from her unseeing eyes. 

As the piercing joy welled up in her heart, she shouted out: 

“I cherish you…!” 

Whether or not the words reached him, the gods only know. 

The rain had lifted, but the sky remained heavy with clouds. 

The carriage clattered along a road that ran straight as an arrow across the plain from the interior to the frontier, the east to the west. 

Some went to trade. Others, to see their families. Others still, to escape them. 

Some went as pioneers. Some were sad-looking types who might have been going into exile. 

As was so often the case with shared carriages, expressions of joy and sorrow mingled freely. 

Among those expressions, some might have noticed a few fellow passengers whose looks spoke of a job recently and finally finished. None, however, would have been likely to guess just what adventure those few had come from. 

It didn’t matter to anyone else, anyway. 

Dragon slaying might have been interesting, but that was merely the stuff of legends, and no one would assume they had been attacked by a dragon. 

That was how the job of adventuring often was. 

“Mm… Ahh! That was fun…!” 

High Elf Archer stretched away from the luggage she had been leaning against, trying to ease her stiff shoulders. Her long ears stood up happily, and she wore a relaxed expression. 

Dwarf Shaman, who was sitting cross-legged and resting his chin in his hands, said irritably: 

“Even the part where you were being mobbed by goblins and crying like a baby?” 

“Well, we won that fight, didn’t we? And here we are. And we got a reward to boot!” She hefted a leather pouch into her palm. The weight of it came from gold coins stuffed inside. 

Not that the reward mattered very much to her. It was just a bonus. 

“I must confess I feel a twinge of regret about that Gate mirror,” Lizard Priest said, his tail coiled on the floor. He lapped his nose with his tongue as he flipped through a notebook of some kind. Before they had sunk the mirror, he had taken down as many notes about its unique properties as he could. “But we collected valuable information, smashed a heresy, and did valorous deeds. I am well more than satisfied.” 

“Won’t hear any complaints from me, s’long as this gold gets me a good meal!” 

“You dwarves—always thinking with your stomachs.” 

“Well, that’s the biggest part of us, after all!” 

The repartee between the archer and the shaman was as lively as ever. 

Nearby, Priestess sat and watched them happily. 

Is it over? I guess… 

She did wonder who had been using the Gate to summon the goblin threat… But that was another story, one that had nothing to do with the adventure she and the others had just been on. 

“……” 

She glanced to the side. 

He was there, squeezed up near the luggage and the curtain, still holding his sword and his helmeted head tilted toward the floor. 

Shortly after the carriage had left the water town, he had drifted off to sleep. 

“…Oh, well.” 

Priestess giggled and took a thin blanket out of her bag. 

Would it really hurt him to take off his armor and helmet, at least when he was resting? 

She gently draped the blanket around his shoulders, then sat next to him quietly. She folded her hands and set them on her knees, stretched her back, and laid her sounding staff down sideways. 

True: He was Goblin Slayer. So there was no helping this. 

So long as goblins were his enemies, he would not lower his guard for a moment. 

That was why she hadn’t tried to ask him anything. When he had returned from making his report to Sword Maiden, he had said only, “It’s done.” 

And that was enough. Now that it was over, she had to let him rest. 

“Oh?” 

She noticed he was holding something else besides his sword. 

A tiny birdcage—the canary. 

The bird, like its owner, was asleep, eyes closed and perched on a branch. 

It seemed he was properly feeding and taking care of the animal. Such attention to doing what was right seemed just like him. 

“I wonder if he’s given it a name yet.” 

She knew him. He would care diligently for it and probably never stop to think that it needed a name. 

When they got back to the frontier town, when he woke up, she would have to be sure to ask him. 

She could almost hear him: Canary is good enough. 

“Hee-hee.” 

She reached out, careful not to wake him or the bird. In her slim fingers, she picked up a single feather the bird had dropped. She quietly pulled it between the bars of the cage, examining it in the light that filtered in through the curtain. 

It shone a pale light green. Ever so gently, she set it in a crevice in his helmet. 

The pale green feather looked a strange match for the grimy helm, but she didn’t mind. 

He wouldn’t worry about this tiny touch of ostentation. 

“You worked hard, Goblin Slayer, sir.” 

“When we get home…” 

Suddenly, a voice drifted out from the helmet. 

Priestess blinked several times, then pursed her lips and said, “Come on. If you’re awake, then say so.” 

“I just woke up.” His voice as he slowly sat up was a touch more mellow than usual. 

Priestess did believe he had been sleeping, but she grumbled: “I can’t tell under that helmet.” 

“I see.” 

Goblin Slayer pulled a canteen from his bag and drank a mouthful, then two. 

As usual, he drank through the visor of his helmet, suggesting he was ignoring her. 

Or maybe he won’t understand if I don’t actually tell him to take the thing off. 

He glanced at Priestess, who had set a finger to her lips in thought, and said: 

“When we get home…” The same words as before. “There’s something I want to try.” 

“What’s that?” 

“An ice treat.” 

“Oh…,” Priestess said with a knowing smile. Lizard Priest responded immediately: 

“An ice treat! Could I perhaps join you in tasting this thing?” 

“If you want some, I don’t mind,” Goblin Slayer said and, after a moment’s thought, added, “It’s made with milk.” 

“Oh-ho! Sweet nectar!” 

His tail uncoiled itself and slapped the floor of the carriage in ecstasy, drawing a concerned look through the curtain from the coachman. 

“S-sorry, n-nothing to see here. Sorry about that!” Priestess quickly bowed her head to him and urged her companions to quiet down. 

She put her hands on her chest and let out a breath. Thank goodness they hadn’t been told to get off the carriage. 

Quite ignoring her, Dwarf Shaman gave a resounding laugh and pounded his belly. 

“Ho, Beard-cutter! Planning to have a meal and not invite the dwarf?” 

“Should I?” 

“I surely think so!” 

Goblin Slayer turned his helmet to the empty air and made a quiet sound, then nodded. 

“In that case, please join us.” 

Dwarf Shaman asked how he planned to make this ice treat, at which Goblin Slayer explained, miming with his hands. Lizard Priest held up a clawed finger to offer his idea, to which Goblin Slayer responded, “Then, we should…” 

Goblin Slayer was normally reticent and getting him to open up was difficult. But… 

“Gosh…” 

…here now, he was clearly the center of attention. 

The thought spread a pleasant warmth through Priestess’s small chest. 

“Okay!” she resolved, raising her hand easily. “Goblin Slayer, sir, I can have some, too, can’t I?” 

“I don’t mind.” 

He doesn’t mind. She snickered and glanced at High Elf Archer. 

High Elf Archer sat across from him, pointedly facing the other way, ears fluttering. 

Although it was not necessarily a sign that he had noticed this, Goblin Slayer said: 

“What about you?” 

“…” Her ears jumped again. “Yeah. Gimme some, too.” 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said, then added sharply, “If it doesn’t come out well, don’t kick me.” 

“Erk…” 

Is he holding a grudge? 

No, it couldn’t be. High Elf Archer gave a little snort. 

Sure. Of course. He wasn’t the type to be bitter, even if an excitable elf had kicked him. Even if any normal person might have been upset. 

After a time, High Elf Archer let out a long breath and shimmied around to face him. 

“Yeah, fine. No kicking. So…please?” 

“Yes.” 

The steel helmet bobbed up and down once. 

Priestess wondered when he would notice the light green feather in his helmet. 

Maybe while they were still in the carriage, maybe after they got back to town, maybe not until the next time he took it off. 

What would he do when he noticed? Would he be angry, or laugh, or perhaps pay it no mind? 

High Elf Archer, ignorant of Priestess’s fond imaginings, narrowed her eyes like a cat. 

“I don’t know that I’m all that fond of goblin slaying.” 

She drew a circle in the air with her finger, long ears bouncing up and down. 

They’d gone into some underground ruins to explore, been caught in a trap, and gotten out again. They had fought and defeated a bizarre monster and discovered a priceless artifact. They were all riding in this carriage together. 

From the interior to the frontier. From the east to the west. 

All so they could return home now that the adventure was over. 

“…But it wasn’t so bad, I guess.” 

Maybe she couldn’t quite bring herself to say exactly how she felt. The canary’s eyes fluttered open, and it chirped brightly.