Goblin Slayer - Volume 2 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Goblin Slayer In The Water Town

The water town was an old city two days east of the frontier across the plain, a great white-walled fortress that sat at the confluence of many rivers, under a canopy of trees so green as to be black. 

Travelers came from far and wide to this city, built on a fortress from the Age of the Gods. It was full of boats coming and going, merchants with their goods, languages of every kind, chaotic and beautiful. Positioned on the western edge of the interior and the eastern edge of the frontier, the water town was the largest city for quite a ways. 

A carriage clattered and bounced over a bridge, passing through a castle gate in the middle of a lake. 

The gate was engraved with the crest of the God of Law: the sword and scales, the symbols of law and justice. Even on the frontier, where monsters and villains ran rampant, the light of the law shone. People could live in peace, even if only tenuously. 

The carriage ran along ruts that had been carved into the flagstone over hundreds or even thousands of years. Some time later, it stopped in a large parking area, and adventurers jumped out one after another. 

“Ahh… My butt’s sore!” 

High Elf Archer gave a great stretch to loosen up a body that had endured much jangling on the long carriage ride. 

The sun was high in the sky and would soon reach its zenith. It was noon. 

All around them were shops supplying travelers, and the smells of food and drink wafted on the air: The scents of searing meat and sizzling fat. The sugary odor of baked sweets. The town had everything, from foods that could be found anywhere to startling foreign offerings. 

The vendors were much the same. 

Here, a dwarf merchant bellowing at the top of his lungs; there, an elf clowning about to attract customers. A rhea fruit seller was dashing about, selling apples as fast as she could move. Humans called out to one another. Farther away, a lizardman was preaching a sermon. And was that a dark elf running a shop? 

“Oh-ho! Looks like a lovely place,” Dwarf Shaman said with a twitch of his nose, taking it all in. He slapped his protruding stomach. “An anvil for a chest, a wheel rut for a bum—you’ll get a balance yet. Time does wear away all things!” 

“…Looks like it’s worn you away quite a bit.” 

“Ho-ho-ho! But I stand tall among the dwarves!” 

High Elf Archer glared at Dwarf Shaman as he guffawed in his usual great voice. 

Priestess, an unintended victim of the dwarf’s comment, reached back and awkwardly tried to cover her underdeveloped rear end with her hand. 

“A-anyway, shouldn’t we go meet our quest giver?” 

“Yes.” 

She had learned well from her mentor Goblin Slayer, master of the forceful change of subject. 

He showed no sign of noticing this, though, as he pulled the now crumpled sheepskin page from his bag. It had gotten quite wrinkled from the careless way he had shoved it into the bag, but he didn’t appear to notice that, either. 

“It seems we can find them at the Temple of Law.” 

“This way, then!” 

High Elf Archer’s argument was going nowhere fast, so she cut it off with an elegant flourish of her hand in the direction of the Temple. 

“You know the way?” 

“I’ve been here before.” 

Then, she smiled widely and set off at a jaunty pace. 

This, in fact, was the town where she had heard the song of Orcbolg—Goblin Slayer. 

She made a show of swinging her hips as she walked down streets she knew and the others did not. Her four companions followed behind. 

The streets were of closely laid flagstone, well traveled by carriages, and rivers crisscrossed the city everywhere, forded by ferries. The town was an incredible place, not least because of how it used the old ruins with hardly any alteration. 

There were buildings, of course: shops and inns, even small apartments, all decorated with beautiful carvings. The streets were like a living fashion show, with people wearing the latest styles of both the frontier and the interior. The water town was the very epitome of a cosmopolitan city. 

“But, um, well… Do you really think there are goblins here?” 

Priestess looked down as she walked, as if her old vestments embarrassed her compared to the dresses of the girls walking by. Those were elegant, gorgeous, and womanly clothes. Not like hers, worn with the day-to-day work of adventuring. 

She ought to have been embarrassed at being ashamed, though. 

“I suspect so.” 

Goblin Slayer’s blunt response gave no indication whether he noticed her discomfort. Either way, Priestess was grateful for him. He never got distracted. 

“Oh-ho, hmm?” Lizard Priest stuck out his tongue in a show of interest. “And milord Goblin Slayer, what makes you say that?” 

“This place has the air of a village that’s been targeted by goblins.” 

“The air…?” 

Dwarf Shaman gave a dubious snort from his round nose. The only things he could discern in the air were the smells of water, stone, and the food at a nearby shop. There was no hint of the rotten stink unique to goblin lairs. 

“Can’t rightly say I follow.” 

“That’s ’cause dwarves are so thick.” 

“As if you understand him any better.” 

High Elf Archer snickered at Dwarf Shaman as he stood with his arms folded and his head cocked. 

She didn’t seem to mind even when he fixed her with his most intent glare. She just waved her hand. 

“Now, now, elves live in the forest. I don’t expect to know anything about city smells.” 

Dwarf Shaman was about to retort but was suddenly hushed. 

From behind High Elf Archer, Lizard Priest had let out a sharp hiss. 

“The middle of town is not the place for your commotions.” 

“I know that. For someone so scaly, you sure are prickly.” 

“You’re just soft, dwarf,” the elf said. 

Lizard Priest clicked his tongue, and this time the two fell quiet. Priestess giggled at the scene. 

The elf and the dwarf didn’t have it in them to argue anymore. They walked slowly through the sparkling town of water, taking in the sights. It was common here to see those who had words but were not human, as well as other adventurers. 

Only Goblin Slayer was constantly alert to their surroundings. 

“I don’t know about smells or whatever, but I really don’t think goblins are going to jump out at us right here in town,” High Elf Archer said with an annoyed sigh. 

“You can’t be sure.” Goblin Slayer’s response was sharp. “I recall it happening once.” 

Though his weapon was not drawn, he moved in much the same way as he did through a cave, with a bold but remarkably quiet stride. 

He was the only one who attracted odd looks from passersby: an adventurer in grimy leather armor and a cheap-looking helmet, walking through town as though he were in a dungeon. 

Perhaps some took him for some new kind of performer; it was nothing he could help. And if High Elf Archer hid her face from embarrassment, well, he couldn’t help that, either. 

Despite all this, he was unlikely to change his ways. 

“And where is this Temple of ours?” Lizard Priest’s tail waved gently behind him. 

“Look, you can see it already. Right over there.” 

High Elf Archer pointed with a slim finger to a building across the river. It was a stunning shrine made of white marble, featuring countless pillars. Even those seeing it for the first time understood that it was a temple. 

The Temple of Light and Order, emblazoned with the scales and sword that represented law and justice. 

“Wow…,” Priestess breathed at the sight. The Temple of the Earth Mother where she had grown up was hardly a poor building, but… 

…This place practically screamed that it was the home of a god. 

Her face relaxed with happiness, her cheeks a touch red with excitement, and turned back. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir! It’s incredible!” 

“Is it?” 

He couldn’t have offered a more blunt response. 

Perhaps they just had different ways of looking at it. It was clear to everyone that he was evaluating the Temple as a possible goblin nest. 

“Gosh…!” 

Priestess puffed out her cheeks, even though she knew it was childish. 

Come to think of it… 

She realized she had forgotten to ask the most important thing of all. 

“Um, Goblin Slayer, sir?” 

“What?” 

“Is the quest giver a priest of the Supreme God?” 

“No.” 

He answered as if it meant nothing to him, then said: 

“It’s the archbishop.” 

At that, Priestess’s enthusiasm evaporated. 

“Whaaat?!” 

She would never have imagined the quest giver might be her. 

Priestess gripped her sounding staff with both hands and let out an inadvertent cry. The person responsible for the law all across the western frontier. No, more than that. For she was known as… 

…Sword Maiden. 

There were many visitors to the Temple of Law. 

In part, it was not just believers in the Supreme God who came to supplicate there. 

The building was also a court, where judgments were made in the name of God. Cases ranged from simple everyday disputes to matters of life and death. 

There was a ceaseless flow of those who wished to have their cases heard in the merciless light of God. 

Deeper into the Temple, they passed through a waiting room full of such people. 

Past the courtrooms where cases were heard, past hallways narrow with bookshelves to the innermost place, silent and lined with marble pillars. 

In this deepest part of the Temple was a worship hall where an image of the Supreme God in the form of the sun was revered. 

It was like something out of a myth. 

The sunlight slipped down between the pillars in great golden sheets. There was no out-of-place noise; the silence was absolute. This was a holy place. 

And at the altar knelt a woman, long staff in hand, praying. 

She wore white robes over her robust figure. Her golden hair glittered in the sun. Her staff, which depicted a sword from whose hilt hung a set of scales, showed the equality of justice and law. 

She was so dazzling one could only think that if the Supreme God were to be incarnated as a woman, this would be her. 

Distressingly, her eyes were hidden with a black kerchief. Not that it in any way impugned her beauty; the cloth may even have made it all the more striking. 

“—?” 

Suddenly, she looked up. 

The sacred silence had been shattered by bold, casual footsteps. 

“G-Goblin Slayer, sir! Please try to be quieter…” 

“This is an urgent job. If they don’t mind our entering, there’s no reason to wait.” 

“I thought you seemed like the impatient type, Orcbolg.” 

“Everyone’s impatient compared to an elf!” 

“Such clamor is unbecoming. Be it a foreign deity or no, we are in the house of God.” 

Loud, lively, rough, robust. To her it was tremendously nostalgic. 

“?” 

The edges of her mouth softened ever so slightly, and the sleeve of her garment moved like a wave on the ocean. 

She—Archbishop of the Supreme God, Sword Maiden—slowly rose. 

“Goodness. Who might you be…?” 

“We’ve come to slay the goblins.” Goblin Slayer answered dispassionately, in a clear tone and with what sounded like a quiet smile. 

His attitude flirted with insolence, but he didn’t sound flippant. It was a tremendously adventurer-like way to speak. 

Priestess stood beside him, goggling, painfully trying to figure out how to make her greeting. 

This is Sword Maiden here! 

The archbishop beloved of the Supreme God. 

The Gold-ranked adventurer who, ten years before, had been the demise of the Demon Lord. 

Not a hero of legend, but a unique presence who had emerged from humankind. 

She was vastly beyond Priestess, freshly promoted to Obsidian. The difference between them was like the gulf between a goblin and a dragon. 

When she had been an acolyte, Priestess probably could not have brought herself to be in this awesome place at all. 

“I, um, that is, it’s…it’s an honor to meet you,” Priestess said in a strained voice, making a small bow. Her eyes shone and her cheeks were red. 

“A most honored warrior and…a sweet, most honored priestess.” 

From beyond the kerchief, a gentle gaze brushed Priestess’s cheek and then moved on, or so she felt. 

She could hear her own heart pounding inside her little chest. She hoped it wasn’t audible to anyone else. 

“And these august personages are…?” 

“Mm. Their compatriots—their party members,” Lizard Priest said when the gaze settled on him. “I venerate the most fearsome naga, but rest assured, I shall give you all my support.” His unusual palms-together gesture was solemn. 

Of course, his gesture differed from the way clergy of the Supreme God showed respect to one another. But that was not the point. What was most important was that he show his intention to respect others. 

Everything began from that point. Without a flicker in her smile, Sword Maiden drew a cross in the air with her finger. 

“Welcome to the Temple of Law. I am honored to receive you, O scaled priest.” 

High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman, for their part, evinced little interest in the goings-on. 

They gave slight bows from behind Lizard Priest, but they had their heads together, whispering to each other. 

“Hmm. Quite something for human work,” said the dwarf. 

“Yeah. What a beautiful picture,” said the elf. 

Their admiration seemed to be focused on the ceiling high above their heads. 

There, rich brushstrokes composed a mural depicting the battles of the Age of the Gods. 

They had seen cave paintings before, drawn in blood on the walls of ruins, but this was something else entirely. 

Order and chaos, Illusion and Truth, the gods raged against each other with body and spirit and soul. 

Against a field of stars, miracles and magic whirled about, flew back and forth, shined, burned. Finally, the gods reached out for a cube and began to indulge themselves in throwing it. 

The board they played on was this very world, and the pieces they played with, everyone in it. 

Hence why those with words, those who prayed, tried to live correctly. 

The two of them, who were kin to the spirits that filled this world, were not unlike the gods. While elves and dwarves respected the gods, however, they did not mindlessly worship them. The gods were very much “with” them; they would listen to the gods’ advice, but not be their slaves. This was why there were so few elf priests—though the dwarves still cleaved to the smithy god, themselves. 

“Ho-ho. How very…adventurer-like you all are.” 

An eccentric warrior. A pure priestess. A foreign priest. A dwarf magic user. And an elf ranger. 

The archbishop gave the five of them a small, strange smile. 

…? 

Priestess thought the smile brimmed with loneliness and longing. 

“And if so, then we are like each other. I welcome you wholeheartedly.” 

It took but a moment. 

Sword Maiden made a wide sweep of her arms, as if to embrace the adventurers. The gesture evoked a loving mother yet beguiling like a harlot urging someone into her bedchamber. 

An average human man would have given a heavy swallow right about then. 

Goblin Slayer, however, ignored all of this. “Enough complimenting each other. Tell us the details of the quest.” He was oblivious to the mortified look that came over Priestess’s face. 

“N-now just a minute, Goblin Slayer, sir…” 

Too much was too much. 

Priestess grabbed his gauntleted hand and pulled him close. 

“You can’t talk that way to the archbishop…” 

“I don’t care.” 

But Sword Maiden was gently shaking her head. 

“I am most pleased that such a hardy adventurer has come to me.” 

“Are you?” 

“May I ask, out of personal curiosity,” she murmured, “if kin of yours were to join with chaos, could you kill them?” 

“No,” Goblin Slayer replied bluntly. “I have no living relatives.” 

“Is that so…?” 

Goblin Slayer watched the bright red lips from inside his helmet as they whispered. 

“So. Where are the goblins?” 

Behind him, the other adventurers sighed. 

“It began about a month ago.” 

Sword Maiden nodded to the others to sit on the floor, then sat with her feet together, looking forlorn. 

“Late one night, I sent an acolyte girl to deliver a message from this Temple…” 

“Was she killed? Or kidnapped?” asked Goblin Slayer. 

“…She didn’t come back that night. The next day, her body was found in a back alley.” A look of grief came over her face. 

“Hmm.” Goblin Slayer cupped his chin in his hand, thinking. 

“According to the person who found her, she appeared to have been cut up while she still lived.” 

Sword Maiden’s words were calmness itself without a moment’s hesitation. But behind them was a slight tremble. 

Was it terror? Intimidation? Or perhaps profound pain, sadness. Priestess couldn’t be sure. 

“That’s… Well, that’s awful,” Priestess said. 

“The very fact of murder is sad enough, though it happens from time to time…” 

“While still alive…,” Goblin Slayer muttered quietly. “At that location?” 

“…Yes.” 

“Was any part of her eaten? Or was she merely killed? Do you have any other details…?” 

“Come on, Orcbolg. You’re being insensitive, even for you,” High Elf Archer said, pursing her lips with a frown. She had noticed Sword Maiden’s clouded expression. 

Goblin Slayer fell silent for a long moment, then said, “Please go on.” 

“It was truly a terrible incident.” 

Yes, terrible. 

The Temple of Law was here, to be sure, but this was still the frontier. Not long ago it had been a lawless expanse, home to monsters and bandits. It could hardly now be without crime. 

Though the light of the Supreme God shone abundantly, it was not enough to reach into twisted human hearts. 

“Law and order… It is said they have continually been the weaker in the struggles of this world.” Sword Maiden continued, in a murmur, “Though evil has not triumphed in this world, neither has it been vanquished,” and joined her hands, offering a brief prayer to the god she served. 

Waiting for her to finish, Lizard Priest stuck out his neck as if paying particular attention. 

“So, is this to say the investigation has yielded no results?” 

“…Yes. I am ashamed to say it, but it’s true…” 

Perhaps an agent of chaos was involved or a follower of the Dark Gods? Or something else? 

Amid a slew of hypotheses and conjectures, the town watch had immediately launched an investigation. For a city whose streets bustled day and night, there was surprisingly little evidence. And without evidence, there was nothing to be done, no matter how badly one wished to catch the criminal. 

In the midst of all this, the water town experienced a dramatic rise in crime. 

“Petty theft, random attacks in the streets. Violence toward women, kidnappings…” 

“Hmm.” Goblin Slayer snorted as Sword Maiden mournfully related the state of things. “I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t like anything, Beard-cutter,” Dwarf Shaman said, well accustomed to his companion, and gave Sword Maiden a wave as if to say, Don’t mind him. He rested his chin in his hand and his elbow on his folded knees. He didn’t even feel like having a drink of wine. “I admit it’s rather strange. But surely that’s not why you summoned us here.” 

“You’re correct. They decided that if they could not track down the killer, perhaps they could catch him at his work.” 

Thus, not only the town watch and guard, but adventurers, too, were dispatched. 

They broke up into several groups, diligently patrolling the night streets and chasing down any suspicious characters. 

It was a blunt approach, a plan marked by its practicality. 

But it worked. 

One of the adventurer groups saw small humanoids attacking a woman and cut them down. 

In the light of the adventurers’ handheld oil lamps, the tiny corpses turned out to be… 

“—goblins. Beyond doubt.” 

“Hmm.” Goblin Slayer, who had been listening silently, made a sound of deep interest. “It was goblins?” 

“Goblins… Not just one or two, I suppose,” Dwarf Shaman breathed, running his hand pensively along the flowing beard of which he was so proud. 

Priestess tapped her finely formed pointer finger against her lips and made a thoughtful sound. “The question is how they got into town,” she said. “They certainly didn’t just walk through the gate.” 

“That’d leave an underground route or the waterways,” Dwarf Shaman said. 

High Elf Archer chimed in. “All these victims—those monsters weren’t just passing through.” 

“What do you think?” Goblin Slayer’s helmet turned toward Lizard Priest. 

The scaled priest gave a contemplative roll of his eyes, then opened his jaws and said, “Goblins…hmm. Goblins live underground. This town is built above a more ancient city. Surely there are ruins of some sort below it…” 

“No question, then,” Goblin Slayer said decisively. “They’re stupid, but they’re not foolish. If I were them, I would simply nest in the sewers.” 

“Once again, you demonstrate your ability to think like a goblin…” 

It was hard to tell whether High Elf Archer was admiring or sarcastic. 

“Of course,” Goblin Slayer replied with a nod. “If you don’t know how they think, you can’t fight them.” 

Sword Maiden betrayed a hint of confusion at Goblin Slayer’s words, but nonetheless, she nodded firmly. 

“Surely it was the Supreme God who guided an adventurer like you to accept my quest.” A faint smile rose suddenly to her face, and her voice was clear; her relief was evident. “I myself, after a month of reflection, concluded they must be underground.” 

“A month?” 

“Yes. And at first, I offered a quest to the adventurers of this town…” 

“What did they do?” Priestess asked quietly, but Sword Maiden shook her head wordlessly. 

“I see…,” Priestess said. 

That was all the answer she needed. 

They didn’t come back. 

Many Porcelain and Obsidian adventurers who went to slay goblins met the same fate—like two of the three companions Priestess had first ventured into a cavern with. 

Once the disturbing scene had been unexpectedly revived in her memory, it was not easy to wipe away. 

Priestess almost thought she could catch the dank, rotten whiff of the cave and scrunched up her face a little. 

“It was then that I heard a song of Goblin Slayer, hero of the frontier.” 

“A song?” Goblin Slayer said, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?” 

“You didn’t know? You’re a ballad, Orcbolg.” High Elf Archer drew a circle in the air with her pointer finger. “Turns out it doesn’t have much to do with the real you, though.” 

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” 

“But surely you know,” Lizard Priest said, narrowing his eyes. “Wherever there are bards, they will sing of valorous deeds.” 

“To what end?” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the connection, Beard-cutter.” 

Not that he wasn’t interested. 

Dwarf Shaman pounded his belly at Goblin Slayer’s display of perplexity. 

“When word of your doings gets around, everyone will want you to slay their goblins for them!” 

“Hmm…” 

Sword Maiden’s eyes, hidden behind cloth, briefly met Goblin Slayer’s, hidden behind metal. 

She bit her lip, then with a look of determination, bowed her head. 

“Please. I beg you to save our town.” 

“I don’t know whether I can,” Goblin Slayer said frankly. “But I will kill the goblins.” 

It was simply not how one spoke to an archbishop, let alone a former hero. 

Priestess said, “Goblin Slayer, sir!” and tugged on his arm, lips pursed. “You must find a better, you know, way to…talk…” 

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” 

“That’s why it’s so important to be careful how you say it.” 

“Hrm.” 

Goblin Slayer let out a harsh snort, but even he could only fall silent. 

Lizard Priest gave a jovial wave of his tail at the sight of his flummoxed friend, but his tone was serious. 

“If they’re in the sewers, our usual tricks won’t work.” 

“I’m kind of sick of our usual tricks, anyway,” High Elf Archer said dejectedly. “They’re…weird.” She gave him a gentle jab with her elbow. “You know what he means, right?” 

“Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “We have to go in and destroy them, but the underground area is large. It would be troublesome if some escaped.” 

“No! Being in the sewers means we’ll be right below everyone who lives here. Get it?” 

She didn’t know why she was surprised. Orcbolg had been this way as long as she’d known him. Burning down fortresses, making people douse themselves in guts, killing goblins in the most terrible ways, drowning them, using human wave tactics… 

“No fire! No water! No poison gas! No entrails!” 

“I told you, I have no intention of using any of those,” he replied in a tone he normally reserved for scolding Priestess, bringing High Elf Archer up short. 

Her long ears jerked in annoyance, but she was the one who at last said, “Fine,” and desisted. 

Lizard Priest ignored her mutter of “What’s with this guy?” and said, “But why can’t your town watch or your army handle these creatures?” He slapped the stone floor with his tail to emphasize his doubts. “I am not acquainted with the situation of this town, but surely this is not beyond their jurisdiction.” 

“They…” 

“…no doubt told you there was no need to involve the military for something as trivial as goblins,” Goblin Slayer said brusquely when Sword Maiden hesitated. 

Sword Maiden looked down slightly, and her lips trembled. A most elegant answer. 

It wasn’t hard to understand. 

The adventurers went in precisely because the town watch and the military did not get involved. 

The town watch took money to train and equip, and their families lived in town. If they were injured or killed, a pension would have to be paid to their relatives. 

How different it was with adventurers, who took responsibility for everything themselves. 

Above all else, the resurrection of the Demon Lord in the spring was still fresh in their minds. 

“Can’t be helped, I suppose,” Dwarf Shaman said with a sigh and a stroke of his white beard. “Plenty of those demons still running around the Capital. I guess this is what adventurers are for…” 

“Mrrm. Two sure founts of trouble are human money and human politics,” Lizard Priest said. 

“I am most ashamed to admit the truth of your words,” Sword Maiden said, as if confessing a sin. 

Tragedies in this world were many and endless. 

As Sword Maiden had said, ever since the world’s inception, law and order had been lesser lights. 

No one had the power to change that, not even slightly. 

Even the Earth Mother, who offered salvation to those who were broken—her salvation was only for those who wished, asked, and prayed for it… 

Hence why monsters were known as the Unpraying. 

And yet… 

“I do not much care for such things,” Sword Maiden whispered, turning her face aside. 

She sounded like a young lady who had done some embarrassing thing. 

“I don’t care.” Goblin Slayer cut through it all with a few curt words. “How do we get underground?” 

“…” 

Sword Maiden’s hidden eyes played across his helmet as if seeking some expression. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh. Yes, excuse me.” 

The voice that answered his call was somehow distant, almost delirious. 

Sword Maiden reached into the neckline of her thin garment, withdrawing a piece of paper from her generous bosom. 

The folded sheet looked quite old; it seemed to be a map of the sewers. 

“I think it would be best for you to enter the sewers via the well in the back garden of this Temple.” 

Her slim, white fingers caressed the map as she spread it out on the floor. The wrinkled sheepskin made a rustling noise as she unfolded it. 

“Hence, during your investigations, I offer you this Temple as lodging.” 

“Mm.” 

Goblin Slayer made a soft sound as he studied the map. It was discolored, already chewed by insects, but it spoke to the sheer size of the sewers. Perhaps it had made some sense to the ancient architects, but now… 

“It’s like a maze,” Priestess said anxiously, looking at the map over Goblin Slayer’s shoulder. 

Goblins worked their way completely through this underground labyrinth to attack humans? Facing them would be much harder than fighting other monsters, even poorly. 

Maybe I’m just nervous. Had he noticed her quietly shift her gaze to him? 

Goblin Slayer pulled the map closer, then tapped it lightly. 

“How accurate is this map?” 

“These are old plans from when the Temple was built…” 

Sword Maiden shook her head gently. The gesture sent beautiful waves through her rich hair. 

“But the city’s water does flow down there. If anything has collapsed, I cannot imagine it’s very much.” 

“All right.” 

With a nod, he nonchalantly rolled up the map and tossed it into the air. 

Lizard Priest deftly stretched out his arm and caught it in his sharp claws. 

“You’re our navigator.” 

“Certainly.” 

“Let’s go, then. No time to lose.” 

No sooner had he spoken than Goblin Slayer set off with his bold stride. 

The other adventurers looked at one another, then nodded helplessly. 

“Well, that’s Orcbolg for you,” High Elf Archer said lightly, rising. She adjusted her great bow on her back, counted her arrows, then went after him at a trot. 

Elves’ footsteps were so quiet they might weigh nothing at all; Lizard Priest found them all but inaudible. He gently opened the map he’d caught, double-checked it, folded it again, and put it carefully in his bag. “There do seem to be ruins deeper in, but we shall not know until we see for ourselves.” 

“You said it. And we can’t count on our long-eared lass to lead the way. Beard-cutter is another matter.” 

Dwarf Shaman stroked his beard, unable to watch them walk into such danger alone. 

The two of them patted each other on the back, then stood up, looking pleased. 

“You must excuse us, then. We shall be on our way.” 

“Can’t keep long-ears and Beard-cutter waitin’ now!” 

And the two of them departed. 

Priestess had no time to gawk, either. 

Scurrying to ready her gear, she straightened her garments and stood. 

“Well, um, milady archbishop. I—I’ll be going, too.” 

Ahem. She gripped her staff with both hands and bowed her head to Sword Maiden. 

“If I may…,” Sword Maiden called out to Priestess as she turned to leave. She reached out one slim hand as if beckoning. 

“Yes?” Priestess asked, looking questioningly at her. 

“Perhaps it is not my place to ask this, as the quest giver…” 

Priestess could not quite read Sword Maiden’s expression as she spoke. All emotion seemed to have left her lovely face, like a receding tide. It was hard to escape the impression that she had donned a mask. 

“But are you not afraid?” 

Her question was quiet but clear. 

Priestess knitted her brow slightly; her eyes wandered the room. What should she say? 

“I… Yes. I am afraid. But…” 

Then, she said nothing more. She had never stopped being afraid, not since she had first entered a goblin den on that day long ago. 

And yet… 

Her averted gaze followed those adventurers, walking ahead of her, some ways away… 

A towering lizardman. Next to him, a stubby dwarf. A slender elf. And… 

A warrior. Dressed in a cheap-looking helmet, grimy leather armor, with a small round shield and a sword that seemed a strange length. 

“Hee-hee.” 

Standing there, nearly alone, a smile welled up on Priestess’s face. 

She was a disciple of the Earth Mother, but if she were to pray to the Supreme God she would ask one thing: 

That she never be without even one of these companions. 

“…I’m sure we’ll be all right.” 

And with that, she shyly offered a prayer under her breath.