Goblin Slayer - Volume 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Random Encounter

A shrill scream echoed across the stone of the waterway built by those ancient people. 

A goblin fell backward, a hatchet buried in its forehead. 

Without flinching, Goblin Slayer kicked the corpse into the river of sewage that ran nearby. It fell in with a splash, then floated among the polluted bubbles for a moment before sinking out of sight. 

“That seems to be the last of them.” Lizard Priest wiped the blood from his blade, a fang-sword that had recently been buried in a goblin’s throat. 

The flame of an abandoned torch on the floor wavered, and the light danced over the carnage all around. 

The bodies were perhaps 40 percent goblin; the rest were the rotting remains of adventurers. 

And there, up ahead where the waterway split into countless branches, loomed a mysterious shadow. 

“No… There’s something else.” 

High Elf Archer was not one to miss something like that. As she spoke, she set another arrow into her bow. Her ears flicked up and down; then, with a faint hiss, she pulled back the spider’s silk bowstring and let it go. 

With a twang like a fine lute, the arrow sliced through the air. 

It arced, turning the corner as if it had a life of its own. A moment later there was a high-pitched “Gyaa!” and then a soft noise of something hitting the water. 

“That’s the last of them.” 

“Phew… Nice shot.” 

At High Elf Archer’s exultant exclamation, Priestess, who had been clutching her sounding staff, let out a sigh. 

She kept her spirit continually heightened, so she could invoke a miracle at any time. She was glad, though, that she hadn’t needed to use one—could save it for later. 

“But…to find so many goblins right under the town…” 

“This is what I expected.” 

Goblin Slayer nonchalantly propped up the body of an adventurer. A bit of rotten flesh tumbled to the ground. 

The corpse had been so well chewed by rats that it was no longer possible to tell whether it was male or female, but he didn’t hesitate. 

Chain mail darkened with dried blood. A broken helmet. This was probably a warrior once. Their item bag had already been torn to shreds. Goblin Slayer looked through everything the goblins hadn’t already stolen and took a longsword, scabbard and all, from the body’s hip. 

He drew the blade and found a cutting edge with no rust at all. Perhaps it had been well-oiled? 

“They must have been ambushed.” One blow to the head most likely. Not even a chance to draw their weapons. 

The sword was too heavy for a goblin and longer than Goblin Slayer liked, but it wasn’t a bad weapon. 

“All right.” Goblin Slayer nodded, sheathing the sword again. Priestess let out a breath. 

“It’s not ‘all right.’ May I?” 

“Go ahead.” 

Goblin Slayer pushed the adventurer’s corpse back on its side. 

Priestess knelt near the body, her expression dark. She paid no attention to the filthy water that lapped at her white vestments. 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, please, by your revered hand, guide the soul of one who has left this world…” 

Holding her staff, her eyes closed, whispering in a rhythm almost musical, she prayed, chanted, implored. 

Prayed that the souls of the adventurers and the goblins who had died here might be saved by the gods who resided in heaven. 

“Would that we could leave you in the soil rather than below it…” 

Lizard Priest, following Priestess’s lead, put his palms together in an odd gesture, praying for the rebirth of those souls. 

“But we take comfort that, by feeding the rats and bugs, you will return to the earth in time.” 

The Earth Mother and the fearsome naga. Their gods were different; thus, so also were their doctrines. 

But in wishing for the happiness of the souls of the dead, they were the same. They knew not where their prayers went, only that there was salvation. 

Priestess and Lizard Priest looked at each other, knowing they had each discharged their duty. 

“Hmm, there.” 

Keeping half an eye on the two of them, High Elf Archer pulled an arrow from a goblin’s corpse. 

She checked the bud at the tip and, satisfied that it wasn’t damaged, returned the bolt to her quiver. 

“Just so you know, I’m not going to do like you, Orcbolg.” She fixed her eyes briefly on the armored adventurer with the inscrutable expression. Vwip went her ears, as if to show her mood. “It looks like this could be a long fight. And I don’t want to use goblin arrows. They’re so crude,” she grumbled. 

Goblin Slayer’s eyes flitted to her. “Are they?” 

“Yeah, they are.” 

“I see.” 

“Gracious me,” Dwarf Shaman sighed, stroking his beard. 

He had had his hand in his bag of catalysts, ready with a spell, but… 

He was looking far away, into the black beyond the light of the torch. As dwellers underground, they could see well in the dark. 

“Makes you wonder just how many there are.” 

But even his sharp eyes didn’t catch sight of any goblins. 

It had been three days since they’d begun their exploration of the sewers, and this was the fifth time they’d been attacked today alone. 

The sewers of the water town had been completely transformed into a goblin nest. Adventurers who entered the place soon found themselves attacked by the little demons. 

The winding network of waterways—effectively a maze—was the goblins’ ally. 

The party was attacked repeatedly at irregular intervals, and the search went on and on; they could never let down their guard. 

“I am told that this is business as usual for adventurers of a labyrinth city.” 

The normally stoic lizardman’s complaints were evidence of the toll fatigue had taken on them. 

Battle alone would not have done this to them, nor simply walking through a cave. It was the constant vigilance that wore on their nerves. 

“…” 

Anxiety was clear on Priestess’s face, as well. Even her footsteps seemed somehow uncertain. 

“Stay calm.” 

Goblin Slayer, examining every inch of their route closely, was as blunt as usual. 

He had taken a fresh torch out of his knapsack and lit it and was now tapping insistently on the walls. 

“This is a stone wall. It’s unlikely they’ll ambush us through it.” 

“Please don’t bring back bad memories.” Priestess frowned and shivered. The terror of that first adventure still haunted her. 

“…I’m sorry.” 

“It’s all right,” was all she said in response to Goblin Slayer’s quiet murmur. 

Perhaps Dwarf Shaman sensed what was going on between them, because he chuckled quietly and said, “At least with this much garbage around, we don’t have to bother to hide our scents.” 

“Please don’t bring back bad memories,” High Elf Archer said with a weary wave of her hand. 

She stuck out her arm and took a sniff of her hunter’s outfit. 

In the past, on another dive into underground ruins, Goblin Slayer had forced her to slather herself with goblin guts, alleging it would cover her scent. She had been able to wash her clothes and clean her body, but she had never really forgiven him. 

“I’m warning you, Orcbolg, if you ever make me do that again, you’re in for it.” 

Goblin Slayer was silent. He moved his head slightly from side to side. 

Maybe he was checking the smell of the area. After a long moment, he answered. 

“True, there’s no need this time.” 

“Hrk.” 

High Elf Archer’s ears went back. 

The half-opened eye of a sniper fixed on Goblin Slayer. 

“Hey, I just remembered.” 

“What?” 

“Orcbolg. You never apologized to me.” 

“Because it was necessary.” 

His answer could not have been more direct. High Elf Archer pouted with a “grrr” and fell into a sulk. 

“…Hmm?” 

Suddenly her ears bounced up and down, and she looked at the ceiling. 

“What is it, long-ears?” asked Dwarf Shaman. 

“Something feels strange… And I hear the sound of water. Above us?” 

Just then, a droplet fell into the waterway—splish. 

Ripples ran through the sewage. One, two, three. 

“Hrm…” 

Lizard Priest stuck out his tongue doubtfully and licked his nose. 

Ploop! Ploop! More droplets fell. 

Soon they were coming down nonstop. 

“Is this…rain?” Priestess frowned, looking at the faraway ceiling. The surface of the riverine waterway was full of tiny waves. 

High Elf Archer raised her hand uselessly to shield herself from the drops. 

“How can it be raining underground?” she asked in confusion. 

“The rain’s probably up above. It’s coming down here through the grates or the river,” said Dwarf Shaman, stroking his beard. He looked at Goblin Slayer. 

“What do you say, Beard-cutter?” 

“If we lose our light, it will be a problem.” Goblin Slayer was holding his shield above the freshly lit torch to protect it. 

Useless torch, that it could go out so easily. In this respect, lanterns were better. Well, there were pros and cons to everything. Goblin Slayer clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

“Footing will be more treacherous, too.” 

“The rain will chill our bodies,” Lizard Priest added with a grim nod and look at the party. “I propose a brief rest. Opinions?” 

The rain prevented them from either moving forward or going back. There were no objections. 

Once they had decided, the adventurers acted quickly. Since the rain had only just started, surfaces were still relatively dry, but if they dawdled, they would end up sitting somewhere wet, and they would only get colder. 

They hadn’t brought some canopy with them, but any adventurer worth their salt had rain gear in their kit. Once they had all put on their worsted overcoats, they sat in a circle together. 

Then, Priestess transferred the flame from their torch to a covered lantern and set it in the middle of their circle. 

It didn’t warm them much, but it was better than nothing. 

“…Hey, Orcbolg. Why don’t you like lanterns?” High Elf Archer poked at the light in perplexity, then brushed at it as if to wipe away some soot. “You can just hang them from your belt. You don’t need to use a whole hand to hold them.” 

“A torch can be a weapon,” Goblin Slayer said. “A lantern is useless if it breaks.” 

“Huh.” 

High Elf Archer seemed disappointed by his answer. She pulled her knees up to her chest. 

Goblin Slayer looked at the waterway, ignoring the droplets that dripped from his helmet. 

Priestess gave him a compassionate look. 

“You should probably at least take off your helmet…don’t you think?” 

“You never know when or where the enemy will attack.” 

“You know, Beard-cutter, I’ve always thought you were a little rough on your equipment. You ought to repair them.” 

“Yes.” 

Dwarf Shaman, sitting cross-legged, pulled a wine jar from his bag of catalysts. Breaking the seal, he poured cups of clear fire wine, then quickly handed them to the rest of the party. 

The damp smell of the air mixed with the wafting aroma of wine. 

“Drink up now. Can’t do aught with a frozen body.” 

“But I…” 

“I know. Just take a sip, one mouthful. I know that’s all you can manage. I won’t hold it against you.” 

High Elf Archer took the cup reluctantly—indeed, fearfully. She took a dainty sip, wincing as it burned her throat. 

“Ohh…” 

“Still a young’un when it comes to drink, aren’t you?” 

“Are you all right?” Priestess asked. 

“Y-yeah… But a drunken ranger won’t do anyone any good.” 

High Elf Archer nodded at Priestess, who urged her not to force herself. 

Then again, Priestess herself was rather unaccustomed to fire wine. She just pretended the potent wine was medicine and took a quiet sip. 

The powerful flavor burned on her tongue. Her eyes darted around desperately. 

“Well, I shall have a cup, too, then,” said Lizard Priest. 

“Of course! Drink up!” 

In contrast to the others, Lizard Priest, tail wrapped around his feet, took the brimming cup Dwarf Shaman handed him and poured it all at once into his massive jaws. 

“Truly a surpassing flavor. I could drink a barrelful of it.” 

“Even with my tricks, I can’t bring a barrel along. Have a splash, Beard-cutter.” 

“…” 

Goblin Slayer drank the wine through the opening in his visor, never taking his gaze off the waterway. 

The rainfall changed from steady to downpour, and the sewage water churned, bubbling violently. 

After a while, each of them lapsed into silence. 

The patter of raindrops on their overcoats, the slosh of wine being drunk, their own shallow breathing—there was sound everywhere, yet the place seemed strangely hushed. 

“We should put something in our stomachs,” Goblin Slayer said shortly, in a quiet voice. “A partially empty stomach keeps the blood from pooling. But too empty and we’ll slow down.” 

“Well, if something simple will do…” 

Priestess dug in her bag and came up with something wrapped in oil paper. 

“Oh-ho!” Dwarf Shaman was tickled having sensed food coming on and gave High Elf Archer a grin and a poke with his elbow. “I knew it. Long-ears, see how your skills are lacking in certain areas?” 

“Y-y-you—!” 

But she had no comeback. 

“…Maybe I’ll learn to cook,” she muttered, at which Priestess offered to teach her and smiled. 

Their meal was hard-cooked bread and a bottle of watered-down grape wine. 

It was made to keep a long time, but it was flavorless and cold. These were simply field rations, meant to fill their bellies and moisten their throats. 

The adventurers chewed on the bread without pleasure, but also without complaint. 

“I was hoping I could make something a little less tough, but…,” Priestess said apologetically, shifting as she wiped a bread crumb from her cheek and put it in her mouth. “I don’t think anyone feels much like eating anything too elaborate right here, anyway…” 

“True enough…” High Elf Archer shrugged and made a show of holding her nose. 

Full of waves churned up by the rain, the filthy waterway had become more of a filthy river. The sense of smell plays a large role in how something tastes, and here the aroma of grape wine was overwhelmed by moss, mold, and any number of other odors. 

“I guess I just don’t understand why anyone would want to eat underground,” High Elf Archer said. 

“Oh-ho. Just hang on there, lass.” 

You’ll regret it when we get back up above, thought the dwarf as he stared at her with narrowed eyes, but High Elf Archer showed no sign of noticing. 

“When we have borne this trial, then let us get something delicious for our stomachs.” 

Lizard Priest, who had been drinking grape wine and fire wine in equal measures, jumped into the conversation. 

Priestess agreed quietly, cradling her cupful of wine in both hands. 

“Now that you mention it, what is good to eat around here?” 

“Hmm. Indeed. Let’s see…” Dwarf Shaman stroked his beard. “Around here…” 

“Fried river fish, veal liver, and grape wine,” Goblin Slayer said without taking his eyes off the water. 

Everyone looked at him. 

“And I have heard the grain around here is unpolished, so the batter is quite good.” 

Dwarf Shaman, with nothing else to add, gave an exaggerated shrug. “You heard the man.” 

“I see you are quite knowledgeable, milord Goblin Slayer.” 

“One of my acquaintances is.” 

Lizard Priest had leaned in with great interest, but Goblin Slayer’s response was brief. 

“When I said I was coming here, they told me about the food.” 

An acquaintance? 

Priestess went over the possibilities in her mind: Guild Girl, Cow Girl, or Witch. Maybe Spearman or Heavy Warrior… 

She realized how many more acquaintances he had now than when she had joined him a few months earlier and giggled under her breath. 

Thus, their short respite from their adventure passed amicably. 

But every adventure is rife with danger; in the field, no place is really safe. 

It happened about the time the wine was working its way through their bodies, warming their limbs. 

“…Hmm?” 

Goblin Slayer suddenly made a sound. He immediately rose to one knee and stared intently at the water. 

“Something wrong, Goblin Slayer, sir…?” 

“No,” he muttered. “…But be on your guard.” 

Priestess nodded at his vague answer. 

He must have sensed something. Priestess quickly began to pack her bag, but with one eye to her surroundings. Even if there was nothing there, it was about time for them to be moving on. 

“I will help you. Milord spell caster, your blanket.” 

“Right here.” 

No one had to tell them what to do. The veteran adventurers moved quickly and efficiently. 

High Elf Archer, stooped like Goblin Slayer, kept a hand on her quiver, listening. Her long ears bouncing up and down were the sharpest in the party. 

“…Something’s coming.” 

Each of them immediately readied their weapons. Goblin Slayer took out the longsword he had just collected, Lizard Priest a fang-sword. Priestess held her staff anxiously; Dwarf Shaman had his sling; and High Elf Archer drew an arrow from her quiver. 

“Beard-cutter!” 

“Right.” 

Goblin Slayer grabbed Dwarf Shaman’s lantern with his left hand, the one tied to his shield. There was no time to light a torch. Should he hold the light in his hand? 

No. He hung it by his hip instead. 

All of them looked past the rain to the far side of the waterway, where the low-hanging mist had dispersed into a fine haze. 

This time, all of them could clearly hear the sound of splashing water. 

It wasn’t the waves. Something was coming through the water toward them. 

Without hesitation, Goblin Slayer shined the light of the lantern on the mist-cloaked shape. They could just discern a crude water vessel, like a raft, fashioned of driftwood. 

“Goblins!” 

The next instant, the monsters on the raft let loose with their handmade bows. Their shots lacked precision, but in the narrow space, they fell like the rain already pelting them. 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, by the power of the land grant safety to we who are weak…!” 

Not just the arrows, but even the drops of water miraculously stopped falling on them. 

The impassable barrier gave off a faint glimmer. At its center stood Priestess, clutching her staff with both hands. The prayer had cost some of her own spirit, but it had reached heaven, and the all-merciful goddess had granted the miracle of Protection. 

“I can’t hold it for lo—” 

“It’s enough.” 

Priestess was beginning to sweat, but Goblin Slayer reassured her briefly. The longsword was already in his right hand, and his shield was on his left. “How many?” he asked. 

“I can’t count them!” yelled back High Elf Archer as she nocked another arrow into her bow, and the bowstring sang as she loosed. “What are you going to do?” 

“What I always do,” Goblin Slayer said, unmoved by the hail of arrows. He spun the longsword in his hand into a reverse grip. “Kill all the goblins.” 

He held the sword above his head and then, almost too fast to see, he flung it. 

Since there was no intent to harm Priestess, the blade could pass through the Protection barrier, as per the rules. 

The sword cut through the incoming arrows and pierced the head of the goblin that appeared to be the chief. He didn’t even have time to cry out as he collapsed into the sewage, and the staff he had been holding hit the water with an impressive splash. 

“GROOARRB!!” 

“GAROOROROROR?!” 

The goblins began to howl at the loss of their shaman, and for a moment, the attack faltered. 

“That’s one. How many spells do you have left?” 

“Plenty. I’ve been saving them!” Dwarf Shaman answered as he put a gemstone in his sling and loosed it. 

“…Tunnel, then. Make us a hole.” 

His eyes widened at the frank instruction. 

“Don’t be silly now. You want to destroy that town up there?!” 

“Not up. Down.” 

Goblin Slayer reached into his bag. 

“Dig under the waterway and drain it,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“But a city is like a finely wrought machine!” Dwarf Shaman shouted. “Upset even one thing, and the sewers might overflow!” 

“It’s not fire. It’s not water. It’s not poison gas.” 

His puzzlement would have been comical at any other time, but now High Elf Archer shouted at him, “Something else!” 

“…Hrm.” 

Goblin Slayer went quiet, then started to dig through his bag. 

The goblins, of course, were not standing idly by. They fired arrows as quickly as they could, their raft drawing ever nearer to shore. 

Priestess, her hands still on her staff, gave a cry. 

“I can’t hold it any longer…!” 

“You don’t have another one of those Gate scrolls, do you?” Dwarf Shaman said. 

“If I did, I would have brought it.” 

The tactic he had used against the ogre was still fresh in their minds, but a Gate scroll was a very valuable item and not easy to obtain. Part of what made Goblin Slayer unique was his willingness to use something so precious without a moment’s hesitation. After all, he had presumably intended to use it against goblins at some point. 

As he spoke, Goblin Slayer pulled something from his bag. 

“You have a strategy?” Lizard Priest inquired. 

“We attack the moment Protection wears off,” Goblin Slayer replied. 

“Of course.” 

“Goblins or raft? Which is best?” 

“Raft, I suppose.” 

“All right.” 

With that brief exchange, Goblin Slayer turned to Priestess. 

The girl was clinging to her staff with all her might; she could hardly spare the effort to look his way. 

Goblin Slayer glanced up for a moment. What to tell her? 

“…Cast Protection again. Solidify our defense.” 

“Y-yes, sir!” 

Priestess nodded firmly. Goblin Slayer let out a breath. His empty right hand worked open and closed. 

He needed a weapon. Maybe he could at least find a knife somewhere… 

“But a moment, milord Goblin Slayer.” 

Lizard Priest produced a beast’s fang from his pack and grasped it with a strange gesture. 

“O sickle wings of Velociraptor, rip and tear, fly and hunt…” 

A prayer to his venerable forebears. An appeal to his ancestors. 

His two scaled hands ran across the fang, imbuing it with the power of the fearsome naga. As he spoke, it grew and sharpened into a Swordclaw. 

“I believe this is the length of blade you prefer. Oh, but…try not to throw it. If you can.” 

“I’ll try.” 

Goblin Slayer took the proffered blade in a practiced hand. Not bad. 

“Only…a little…longer…!” 

The invisible barrier was beginning to groan under the ceaseless arrow fire. 

The groan turned to a crack, and then the shield shattered into dust. 

“Close your eyes and mouths, and don’t breathe. Here goes!” 

In the next instant, Goblin Slayer flung the egg in his left hand directly at the raft. 

“GARARAOB?!” 

“GRORRR?!” 

Screams. 

Ground-up pepper and snake bits mixed with shattered eggshell in the air. Goblins’ eyes ran. They choked on the mixture and flailed about with the pain. 

Slicing through the red haze, Goblin Slayer and Lizard Priest leaped aboard the ship. The raft swayed with their weight, sending one or two goblins into the muck. 

A loud splash and a spray. Droplets rained down. 

“Hrm.” 

Goblin Slayer grunted as he laid into the creatures struggling to maintain their footing on the rocking vessel. As he did, a goblin seized the moment to grab him from behind. With his shield, he gave it a resounding smack. 

Clang. “GAROU!” 

“…So you have armor, do you?” Goblin Slayer spat in annoyance. Without slowing, he spun, kicking the howling goblin clear off the raft. 

“GROOROB?!” 

The creature struggled mightily to climb back out of the sewage, but his armor was too heavy. 

Finally, the hideous face slipped beneath the surface. A few bubbles came up, and then the goblin, like a piece from a game board, was gone. 

“Hmm.” 

In a single motion, Goblin Slayer struck a nearby monster with the flat of his sword. The goblin and the grimy tears he had been crying went helplessly overboard. 

“GAROOARA?!” 

“It’s easiest just to push them off.” 

“O, fearsome naga! See your child’s deeds in battle!” 

Lizard Priest’s only response to Goblin Slayer was to bellow this prayer and leap at the goblins. 

As the goblins began to recover their sight, they tossed their bows aside and frantically drew their swords. 

But they were too slow. 

They fell to claw and fang and tail, to sword and shield, fist and foot. With nimble movements and long-studied tactics, the two warriors worked their way from one end of the raft to the other. 

Goblins were weak, after all. 

In a toe-to-toe battle with experienced adventurers, the average goblin didn’t have a glimmer of a chance. A couple of the creatures jumped into the sewage in their panic. Having forgotten they couldn’t swim, they promptly drowned. 

“Sixteen.” 

Even so, the goblins had not lost their chief advantage. 

“But we may be in difficult straits. They are many.” 

Which was to say, numbers. 

Where one was slain, two more appeared; where two drowned, four came forward. Four became eight. Eight became sixteen. Sixteen became thirty-two. 

How many goblins could fit on the little raft? 

“GOOORRB!” 

“GROB! GOOBR!!” 

The two adventurers met the mass of goblins and slew one after another. But there was no end to them. 

Though the adventurers were more than two themselves. 

“GRRB?!” 

A bud-tipped arrow flew through the air. 

Focused entirely on the threat in front of him, the goblin missed it until the shaft was buried in his eye and he was tumbling to the ground. 

“An elf doesn’t even need her eyes open to make her shot!” 

It was, of course, High Elf Archer, standing on shore. 

Her ears stood straight up, and she fired arrows faster than the eye could see. Quick—so quick that everything else seemed to pale. 

Among those who had words, there was none who could shoot better than an elf. Even in the furor of battle, her arrows hit only her targets. In a breath, she had emptied her quiver, but that didn’t mean she was out of arrows. 

With a distasteful cluck, High Elf Archer picked up some of the goblins’ bolts from earlier. 

“These things are so crude.” 

But crude or no—even if the arrowheads were made of stone—the elf would not miss. 

One goblin, growing impatient, picked up a bow again. He stooped down, using his friends as a shield (playing dirty, as goblins were wont to do), and readied himself to take a potshot from the shadows. 

Actually, for a goblin, his aim was fairly careful. 

“ORGGGG…” 

His target was that impertinent little elf. 

The rough bowstring made a squeaking sound as he drew it back. 

An elf. And a woman, at that. It would be fun to take her alive…but then, killing her would be pleasant, too. 

He’d shoot her in the eye. Or perhaps the ear? With a hideous smile, he let the arrow loose… 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, by the power of the land grant safety to we who are weak!” 

It never came close to High Elf Archer, but only bounced away with a clatter. 

The all-merciful Earth Mother could hardly refuse the supplication of her disciple, could she? 

In the next moment, the would-be goblin archer fell prey to one of High Elf Archer’s arrows and met his end. 

“Thanks.” 

“Not at all. I have to earn my keep, too…” 

High Elf Archer winked at the girl next to her. Priestess smiled stoutheartedly and held her prayer. 

“I can keep them off our back row,” Priestess said. “I’m counting on you to handle offense!” 

“Sounds like a plan! And I have just the thing here!” 

It was Dwarf Shaman who answered her, scavenging in the bag of catalysts he had so carefully conserved until that moment. 

He had a handful of clay in each hand. 

The edges of High Elf Archer’s lips turned up in a smile, but she never looked away from the goblins’ raft. 

“We know already, just get on with it! Dwarves take forever to do anything!” 

“Put a rock in it. You’ve your fighting style, and I’ve mine.” 

Dwarf Shaman began to roll each fistful of clay into a ball. 

He breathed on them, mumbling something, then gave a great bellow: 

“Beard-cutter, Scaly! Fall back!” 

At the same moment, he pitched the dirt balls through the air. His lips overflowed with words of power. 

“Come out, you gnomes, it’s time to work, now don’t you dare your duty shirk—a bit of dust may cause no shock, but a thousand make a lovely rock!” 

As they watched, the little balls transformed into massive boulders and smashed into the boat. 

Stone Blast enhanced with an influx of spiritual power to be even more impressive than usual. 

“M-milord Goblin Slayer!” 

“Right.” 

The two adventurers on the raft exchanged a quick glance, then shoved through the fleeing goblins, making a huge leap to shore. 

Behind them, there was a roar, and sewage surged up like a geyser. Droplets of the filthy stuff rained down on Goblin Slayer and Lizard Priest as they rolled onto solid ground. 

The raft sank to the bottom of the sewer, goblins and all. A few monsters had escaped by the skin of their teeth, but their armor dragged them down and they disappeared. 

No one spoke as they watched all this happen. 

The rain had never abated; it felt cold as they stood still, flushed with the heat of combat. Their breath fogged; the stench of blood and sewage rose around them. 

High Elf Archer asked in a somewhat strained voice: 

“So, what do we do next?” 

“…Give me a break,” Dwarf Shaman said morosely. He pulled out his jar of wine and undid the stopper. “That little trick just now really took it out of me.” 

Next to him, Priestess slid weakly to her knees. 

“Let’s…rest, for a moment. I need it, too…” 

“No.” Goblin Slayer shook his head. 

Despite having just come through a pitched battle, he didn’t seem to be breathing hard; he was staring squarely at the water. 

“We have to move immediately.” 

“Hwa…?” 

Priestess looked up at him vacantly. 

He looked around vigilantly, still holding weapons in both hands. 

“I concur.” Lizard Priest nodded, making his strange hands-together gesture. “That battle was not a quiet one. Even with the rain to dampen the noise…” 

Something else may have noticed us. 

Just as he said this… 

There was another splash. 

High Elf Archer looked at the water with a grim expression. 

“Escaped the goblins only to be caught by the wolves, have we?” She shuddered as she invoked the old proverb. 

The surface of the sewage quaked; waves grew up and began rippling closer. 

The next instant, huge jaws exploded out of the murky water. 

“AAAAAARRRIGGGGGG!!!!” 

The instant after that, the adventurers decided on a tactical retreat. 

They ran for their lives through the rain, scattering droplets everywhere. They made their way without hesitating, despite the dimness of the sewers. This was only because they were led by High Elf Archer and Lizard Priest, whose agility helped them maneuver through the darkness and around minor obstacles. Priestess and Dwarf Shaman simply followed in their wake. 

The willowy priestess and the stout dwarf were not naturally quick runners. Goblin Slayer, the lantern still hanging from his belt, protected them as they ran as fast as their feet would carry them. 

Behind him, the surface of the water thrashed again. 

He chanced a glance back. Massive white jaws filled his vision: long and narrow, vast, and brimming with sharp teeth. The mouth that loomed out of the darkness was more than enough to bite a person in half. 

The jaws closed around empty air and sank back into the water, but they were gradually gaining ground. 

“I’ve determined one thing from my observations,” Goblin Slayer said, his breathing even. “That is not a goblin.” 

“I could’ve told you that!” shouted High Elf Archer, who had not looked back to see the beast for herself. 

There are monsters called alligators, also known as “swamp dragons.” 

Dragon is just a name; they are more closely related to lizards. They are not the creatures of legend. 

They are, however, hideous: their bodies and jaws long and flat, forcing them to crawl about. Still, an alligator slicing through the water with its long tail is no laughing matter. 

In this place, the white alligator hurtling toward them was more to be feared than any mythical beast. 

“Hey, Scaly! Ain’t that your cousin? Do something about him!” 

Dwarf Shaman was working his stubby legs as hard as he could. Spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted. 

“Most unfortunately, when I entered the clergy I had to abandon all ties to my family.” 

“What, don’t you ever even go home?” 

“It is quite far.” 

With a harsh breath, Lizard Priest took Dwarf Shaman’s feet out from under him with a sweep of his tail. 

“Whoooa?!” Dwarf Shaman exclaimed as his legs left the ground and floated through the air. 

At about the moment he expected to be back on the ground, he found a great, scaly arm wrapped around him, holding him. Lizard Priest didn’t slow for an instant as he grabbed up Dwarf Shaman and kept running. 

Those unique lizardman eyes darted about. 

“And to be clear, spell caster, that wyrm is no relation of mine!” 

“Oh-ho! I like this! Nice and easy!” 

Apparently unperturbed by his friend’s remark, Dwarf Shaman rode on Lizard Priest’s shoulder, laughing all the while. 

“Wh-where do you think it c-came from?” Priestess asked from behind them, gasping for breath. 

Praying to the gods puts a terrible strain on the soul and spirit. It is no easier than physical combat. Hence she was nearly out of breath, her feet unsteady; she felt she might fall at any moment. 

Goblin Slayer gave a click of his tongue and picked her up by her narrow waist. 

“Wha—?!” 

“Get your breathing back under control.” 

Priestess yelped, startled, but after Goblin Slayer’s short response, she found herself caught up under his arm. 

She kicked and squirmed from embarrassment, both at their physical proximity and at being a literal burden to him. 

“I—I’m all right! Y-you don’t have to carry me…” 

“Stop struggling. I’ll drop you.” 

“Ohh…” 

“You have one more miracle left, correct?” 

It would be trouble if she collapsed here and now, his words informed her. 

“I may need you to use another spell.” 

After a moment Priestess’s cheeks flushed, and she replied quietly, “Right.” 

“I think we would be well-advised to get off the waterway,” Lizard Priest said. Holding Dwarf Shaman on his shoulder with one hand, he reached easily into his bag with the other and pulled out the map. 

He kept running, reading the map even as raindrops began to streak across it. 

The damp and the rain, even the sticky air, were the friends of Lizard Priest, who had grown up deep in the jungle. 

“Let’s give him the dwarf! We can get away while that monster’s having dinner!” High Elf Archer, leaping through the rain like a deer, said in apparent sincerity. “I’m sure it’ll get food poisoning!” 

“As if elves were so nutritious!” 

Priestess interrupted High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman, pointing ahead with her staff. 

“S-something’s coming from ahead of us, too!” 

High Elf Archer’s ears whipped up and down, listening closely. 

Splash. Something was striking the water. Three somethings, in fact. Oars? She knew the sound. 

“More goblins?” she said tiredly. She seemed to be feeling their earlier battle. 

Another boatful of goblins was approaching along the dim canal. 

“Wh-what do we do…?” Priestess looked up at Goblin Slayer with frightened eyes. 

“……” 

He said nothing in response, but instead doused the light of their lantern. 

“Priest,” he said. “Does the path branch anywhere up ahead?” 

“I assume so. These sewers are rather labyrinthine.” Lizard Priest scratched a claw along the map as he answered. 

“Hang on, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but poison gas and fire are—” 

“Not allowed. I know,” Goblin Slayer said to High Elf Archer. He gave a short sigh. 

“We’ll go with your plan.” 

“…?” 

High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman exchanged mystified looks. 

The goblins struggled to make their warship (or what passed for a warship among goblins) go faster. Their leader, a shaman, thrust his staff forward and, with a screech, urged his rowers to row harder. 

It had been quite some time since the sounds of battle had ceased to echo through the sewers. Most likely, their comrades were already dead, but that was fine. What mattered was that the adventurers, their enemies and prey, be tired. They couldn’t let this opportunity go. 

The goblins were at their limit. These tunnels were pleasantly dank, but this rain was growing unbearable. Goblins couldn’t care less about filth or sewage, but that doesn’t mean they like being wet. They wanted a warm place to sleep. They wanted good food. 

And if they had some captives to torment, so much the better. It felt like so long since they had tortured and killed those adventurers who had come into the sewers a while back. 

That was why they had to seize this chance. 

Maybe there would be an elf among these adventurers. Or a human. Women, perhaps. There had to be! 

They sang an awful goblin song as they rowed along, completely out of sync with one another. Like many of the boats of those who had words, all hands aboard the goblin warship were soldiers. One ship might have been vulnerable. But this flotilla of three vessels would not have blinked at an entire party of novice adventurers. 

Or so the goblins believed, whatever the reality might have been. And that made them dangerous. The thought that they might still be weak even in a group never once crossed their minds. Their faces twisted with desire, spittle dribbling from their mouths, they devoted themselves to rowing faster. 

The eyes of the shaman, quite capable of seeing in the gloom, fixed on a single point of light—a flickering glow that could only be an adventurer’s lantern. Most unfortunately, humans needed light, for the dark made them blind. In the depths of these lightless holes, the goblins were at their strongest. 

Flush with the assurance of victory, they went toward the light, all unassuming. 

But they didn’t see any adventurers. In fact, they discovered the light was simply a reflection in the water. 

“ORAGARA!” 

“GORRR…” 

The shaman was suspicious; he gave one of his subordinates a smack with his staff and a jabbering rebuke. The goblin, who had simply had the bad luck to be near at hand, gave the water a searching, desultory poke with his oar. 

Then: 

“ORAGA?!” 

The goblin was missing his head. 

The pale jaws of some monster exploded out of the water. 

“GORARARARAB!!” 

“GORRRB! GROAB!!” 

The goblins set up a clamor as they rushed to their battle stations. In the grip of panic, some jumped overboard and tried to escape. Others stood and fought. 

It didn’t matter. The goblins closest to the water were the first to be torn to shreds. 

The shaman angrily waved his staff and began to chant a spell… 

“Looks like they have the numbers, but not the advantage,” Lizard Priest observed. 

“Mm. Can’t say I feel sorry for them,” Dwarf Shaman replied. 

The adventurers watched everything from the darkness of a side path. 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness.” 

Priestess prayed to the Earth Mother, protected from the rain by Goblin Slayer’s shield. In response to her prayer, the all-compassionate goddess sent the Holy Light miracle upon the alligator’s tail. 

“If I can’t use gas or fire or water, this is the best I can do.” 

Goblin Slayer sounded more than a little annoyed. Watching him wearily, High Elf Archer tried to comfort him. 

“Whatever. We survived, that’s what counts.” 

This is what adventures are supposed to be like! She sniffed and pushed out her thin chest. She was quite pleased, as was obvious from the jovial bouncing of her ears. 

“I can’t believe they fell for a little trick with some light, though.” 

“They’ve learned adventurers move by light.” 

“Really?” 

“I don’t know when, but at some point, it became conventional wisdom among them,” Goblin Slayer said, watching the battle in the sewer unfold. “They’re no more than scavengers. They have no concept of making things.” 

He was right. Goblins made clubs and stone tools or perhaps shaved down other equipment to fit themselves, but that was all. Items, food, livestock… They stole what they needed rather than producing it. 

And why not? Villages full of stupid humans were just waiting for them to come and take anything they wanted. Since they could sate themselves through theft, there was no reason for them to do anything else. As long as they could get enough girl children and adventurers, they were set. 

“Still, dull as they are, they’re not foolish,” Goblin Slayer continued, although he did not let his attention wander from the battle. “They learn to use items quickly. If you showed them how to build a boat, they would pick it up before long.” 

“You know them pretty well,” High Elf Archer said. 

“I’ve studied them closely,” Goblin Slayer replied immediately. “This is why I’m careful never to give them a new idea. I kill them instead.” 

Leaning against the wall, Dwarf Shaman stroked his beard. 

“What you’re saying is, someone taught them how to build those boats.” 

“Yes.” 

Priestess finished her prayer and let out a breath. She wiped sweat and rain from her brow. 

“Are you sure? Maybe the shaman came up with them…” 

“It’s possible. But if their numbers increased here naturally, then that…whatever that thing is…” 

“Um…the alligator?” Priestess offered. 

“…Right. That thing wouldn’t have surprised them. I don’t think they would have used boats if they’d known about it.” Muttering, he added, “Cowards to the core.” 

“What is it you’re getting at, milord Goblin Slayer?” Lizard Priest asked quietly. 

Goblin Slayer seemed to have something specific in mind. His response was all too pointed. 

“This goblin infestation is man-made.” 

Goblin Slayer waited until the sounds of battle had subsided, then suggested a temporary withdrawal. 

No one objected. They were out of spells and out of arrows. They didn’t have enough items and their strength was running low. They walked silently into the dim sewers, putting the battle between the goblins and the alligator behind them. 

Some time later they arrived at a ladder. They climbed to the surface only to be greeted by fat raindrops. Priestess was already soaked through, but the drops just kept coming. She turned her tired face to the sky. In a small voice, she murmured: 

“It doesn’t look like the rain’s going to stop.”