Goblin Slayer - Volume 2 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Between Adventures

“Ahh…” 

Priestess let a smile spread over her face as the warm steam embraced her naked, rain-chilled body. 

Beyond an open door was a wide area of white marble, filled with elegant but not ostentatious carvings. The room was lined with benches to relax on amid the steam of the bath and its ever so slightly sweet aroma. 

The innermost area housed a statue of the Deity of the Basin, the beautiful goddess of the bath. Water flowed continuously into the wash bucket from the mouth of, of all things, a lion. The place was utterly luxurious. The water presumably came from the rivers that ran through the entire city. 

This would never have passed muster at the Temple of the Earth Mother, where adherents cherished poverty and had barely a rag to wash with. This, however, was the great bath of the Temple of Law—a steam bath. It was a fixture unique to the Temples of the Supreme God, who had commanded that those who administered the law ought to be pure of body. 

And this was the most elaborate of the Temples of Law on the frontier—words could hardly describe it! 

“…Right. Just for today.” With one hand, Priestess held a towel to cover her lovely chest; with the other, she made the sign of the Earth Mother. 

Her skin, usually covered by chain mail and a priestess’s vestments, was an almost translucent white. Priestess walked into the bath buoyantly, that pale skin moistening in the steam. Thankfully no other bathers were around, in part due to the late hour, so she didn’t hesitate to scoop an overflowing ladleful of water from the wash bucket. 

“Oh…!” 

The scent that wafted around the room came from the fragrant oils poured into the bucket. 

She had not had the impulse to dress up ever since she had been moved to join the clergy, but in the back of her mind, she recalled the elegant girls they’d passed several days earlier. 

“Well, I’ve come all the way here, after all. It’s all right.” 

She glanced left and right, then turned toward the statue of the Deity of the Basin made of fragrant Saunastone. The statue, heated to a very high temperature, boiled water in an instant, filling the room with rose-scented steam. The goddess was depicted as a naked woman; for balance, there was a statue of an old man in the men’s bath. 

Or so she had heard—Priestess herself, of course, had never been in the men’s bath. 

The Deity of the Basin was said to tell bathers their fortunes, but she didn’t have a temple of her own, nor followers. Or perhaps it could be said that every bath was her temple and every bather her disciple. 

Priestess, cloaked in steam, was quite thankful to be among the deity’s followers. She sat on a bench with a quiet thump. Next, she took up an accoutrement found in every bathhouse: a branch of white birch. She struck it against her body very gently, almost as if patting herself. 

“Mmm…” 

Her muscles, gone stiff and fatigued from long hours underground, began to relax. A few minutes later, when she had finished with the birch, her bare skin glowed a faint pink. She let out a long breath, leaning against the backrest of the long bench. 

“Everyone else should’ve come with me…” 

She’d asked if the elf wanted to come but had gotten a vigorous shake of the head in response. 

“It’s like…the spirits of fire and water and air are all mixed up together. I don’t like it much.” 

The dwarf and the lizardman had expressed a preference for wine and food over baths and headed off into town. 

And then there was Goblin Slayer. 

He had said something odd about sending a letter and shortly after was nowhere to be found. 

“Oh! I’ll come, too!” High Elf Archer had said and gone after him, and Priestess couldn’t say she didn’t understand how the archer felt. 

Sir Goblin Slayer… 

Yes, he was the one that Priestess’s thoughts settled on. 

“Gosh… It’s been half a year already…” 

Half a year since she had nearly died in that goblin den. Since he had saved her life. 

Even now, she had dreams of that adventure. Sometimes she saw herself not as she was, but as one of the girls kidnapped by the goblins. Sometimes she had a fleeting dream that she and the other three novices had come through the adventure safely. 

Both had been within the realm of possibility for her. 

What should she have done—that day, that hour? What was she supposed to have done? 

If. 

If she had finished her first adventure successfully… 

She certainly wouldn’t know any of the friends she had now. And then what would have happened in their fight in the underground ruins or with the goblin lord? 

What would have happened to the city, the people on the farm, all her friends, everyone she knew, all of the adventurers? And him—Goblin Slayer? Would he have survived? 

Priestess was not egotistical enough to believe she had saved his life, but… 

“He’s not such a bad person.” 

She brushed her hand over her waist, where he’d wrapped his arm around her not long before. Compared to his arm, hers looked thin and fragile. He looked like a hero—and sometimes an avenging demon—but he was probably neither of those things. 

“……” 

At some point, Priestess had pulled her feet up onto the bench and curled up in a ball. Her head was pleasantly floaty from the steam, and thought after thought drifted through it like bubbles on the surface of the water. Surrendering herself to them, she felt an unusual combination of comfort and impatience. 

It was like waking up earlier than usual on a day when she didn’t have to work. She could just fall asleep like this. But maybe it would be better for her to get up and move. She had to do something. She felt there was something she had to do… 

“What should I do…?” 

“About what?” 

“Yikes!” 

When a gentle voice answered her dejected mumble, Priestess jumped up so quickly the bubbles went scattering everywhere. Her eyes darted up to see a body as plump as ripe fruit. 

“Hee-hee. The blood’s going to rush to your head at that rate.” 

“P-pardon me, I was just thinking aloud…” 

Priestess hurriedly bowed her head to the archbishop standing before her—Sword Maiden. 

“That’s quite all right,” she said, with a shake of her head that sent long waves through her beautiful golden hair. “On the contrary, I apologize for startling you. My duties kept me late…” 

Priestess found herself charmed by the woman. She didn’t wear so much as a thread of clothing, but she did not try to cover herself, nor show any concern at her nakedness. She was so well-endowed not even a woman could quite bring herself to look away. Her sole covering, the cloth over her eyes, somehow only made her more alluring. The atmosphere was almost reverent: Her body, dappled in sunlight and shadow, made her look different and freshly beautiful at every moment. What was more, steam on her body brought out the flush in her skin, such that even Priestess found herself swallowing heavily. 

But… 

“Um… Are those…?” 

Priestess’s voice faltered. 

Faint white lines ran along Sword Maiden’s otherwise perfect body. Many, many of them layered upon one another. Some narrow, some thick, long and short. Some ran straight as an arrow, while others made patterns as though they had been tugged and pulled. The slight pink tinge to her skin made them stand out all the more. 

Tattoos? No, they couldn’t be. These were… 

“Oh, these…” 

The archbishop traced a crooked line that ran across her arm with a slim white finger. As her fingertip pressed into the soft flesh, she almost seemed to be stroking it lovingly. 

Priestess had only seen these in books, but still she looked down self-consciously. She couldn’t bring herself to keep looking at them. 

“The marks of a mistake.” 

Sword Maiden smiled, speaking of the scars all over her body as though they were hardly worth noticing. The expression seemed to bubble up of its own volition. 

“They hit me on the head, from behind… That was more than ten years ago now.” 

“Oh, um, I…” 

Priestess understood now all too well what that meant. What should she say? How should she say it? Her voice grew strained, and she didn’t look at the other woman. 

“Are you…all right…now?” 

Sword Maiden stopped moving for just a second. If her eyes hadn’t been hidden, surely Priestess would have seen her blink. “You’re quite a kind person, aren’t you?” she said softly, and her expression faded until she looked like a carving. “Most, when I tell them, say that they’re sorry.” 

“I—I just…” 

…couldn’t think of anything else to say, Priestess thought, but the words caught in her throat. 

She could hardly say that to Sword Maiden. 

“Hee-hee… You shouldn’t worry.” 

Sword Maiden reached out and picked up the birch branch. Her movements were so elegant and precise one would never have thought her eyes were covered. Then, she slapped the branch against herself like a whip, a soft “Mm!” escaping her lips. Priestess averted her eyes, but couldn’t help glancing, glancing, glancing. 

Sword Maiden finally stopped working herself over with the branch, as if she knew Priestess was watching. 

“With these eyes…,” Sword Maiden murmured and put her face close to Priestess’s. 

Priestess gulped quietly. 

“With these eyes, I see many things… A great many things.” 

Priestess let out a single strangled breath through her nose. A mildly drunk feeling came over her, not unlike when she had smelled the sweet, flowery aroma. 

“Things you cannot imagine…” 

“Oh…” 

Then, just like that, Sword Maiden left the overawed Priestess and withdrew into the billowing steam of the bath. She cloaked herself in the clouds like a shy girl. The ripples of her flaxen hair were merely shadows now. 

“That man with you…” 

“What…?” 

Priestess shook her head to clear the warm fog from her mind. 

“Goblin Slayer—isn’t that what he called himself? He seems a most…reliable person.” 

“Oh, uh, ahem… Yes. He really is.” 

Priestess had the innocent look of a child revealing a treasure. The edges of Sword Maiden’s lips turned up ever so slightly in an enchanting smile. 

“I am most glad that your investigations seem to be proceeding smoothly. 

“But…,” she added, with candidness reminiscent of him. “…No doubt one day he, too, will disappear.” 

Priestess swallowed gently. 

She sees me. 

She could feel those sightless eyes on her; it made her skin tingle. Sword Maiden’s eyes were covered. And yet, Priestess felt Sword Maiden was looking straight through her, into the depths of her heart… 

“U-um, I—I…!” 

“Yes. Best get out of the bath before you get light-headed.” 

Priestess had stood without realizing it. Sword Maiden gave her a long, slow nod, and Priestess fled the bath, stumbling slightly on the slick white floors, desperate to escape that gaze. 

She didn’t quite know how she had managed to dry herself or put on her nightclothes after she got to the changing room. She only knew that suddenly, she was standing in the hallway of the Temple of Law, the night breeze blowing around her. 

Sometime during the evening, the rain had abated, revealing a starry sky, beautiful and cold. The twin moons seemed to cast a chill, even though it was summer. Looking at them, Priestess hugged her shoulders and shivered. 

She knows. 

It came like a flash of insight, like a revelation. 

That woman knows. 

Knows what? 

About the goblins. 

She felt a chill in her heart far greater than the one on her skin. 

“Whoop, this is it.” 

Orcbolg—that is, Goblin Slayer—had said they should meet at the Adventurers Guild. 

It was, of course, next to the town gate—larger than the guild in their frontier town but smaller than the Temple of Law. It had an administrative office, tavern, and inn, along with a manufactory and sundry among other amenities. All like the guild back home, but this one was quite different in appearance. 

It was built of white stone, which lent it an air of tranquillity. It looked like it could have been a bank. Not that High Elf Archer had ever been to a bank. What struck her instead was the sheer size of the place. 

“Whoa, look over there. That’s a high elf…!” 

“No way. I’ve never seen one before!” 

“Whoo! What a specimen! And I don’t just mean as an elf!” 

She had been to this city before, but the nearby adventurers still watched her with fascination. Their mouths said whatever they wanted, and their eyes bored into her with stares of curiosity or lust. 

“……” 

High Elf Archer furrowed her brow very slightly. It had never bothered her before, but she had grown used to her comfortable life in the frontier town. 

This is kind of…upsetting. 

Maybe it was because unlike the little frontier town, this was a big, advanced city. 

There were a great many adventurers milling about. High Elf Archer looked around with a flick of her ears. 

“Let’s see, where’s Orcbolg…? Ah, there he is!” 

There was no mistaking that cheap-looking helmet and grimy armor. Goblin Slayer was sitting heavily on a bench in a corner of the room, arms crossed. It was how he always sat, if not the usual place he would be. But there were other things that were different from usual. 

A party whispered together, clearly mocking him. Perhaps they thought he couldn’t hear them, but to High Elf Archer’s long ears their voices were as clear as if they’d been shouting. 

“Geez, what’s with the filth?” 

“Yeah, what river’d he wash up from? Gimme a break. We’ve got standards around here!” 

High Elf Archer glared at them and gave a “hmph.” She didn’t like anything about this. She walked through the hall toward the bench, as if wading through the adventurers’ stares, and deliberately stomped along in a way quite at odds with her usual silent footsteps. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Orcbolg.” 

Then, she sat down next to him—right next to him. She cuddled up to his side. Like a cat, she watched an excited mutter run through the rabble of adventurers and smiled. That’d show them. High Elf Archer chuckled under her breath. 

“Sorry. I kinda fell asleep. Were you able to send your letter?” 

“Yes,” he answered blandly. 

Well, it didn’t seem like he was mad at her for oversleeping. That helped her relax just a bit. She didn’t have to worry about it, either, then. 

Whether or not he knew what she was thinking, he showed his receipt to High Elf Archer. It boasted a wax seal indicating the letter had been accepted. 

“I found an adventurer going the right way, so I asked him to do it. I’ve already paid him, as well.” 

There was a post system—anywhere the roads went, a post-horse could go. Most mail went that way, but with a bit of money, you could also hire an adventurer. 

After all, adventurers were just roughnecks with armor, weapons, and strength. If you paid them enough, they’d see your letter got to its destination—especially handy in emergencies or if the letter had to reach some remote place the postal system couldn’t go. And if you filed the quest through the guild, they would confirm when it was completed. That helped prevent couriers from running away with your item or just throwing a letter away and pretending they’d delivered it. 

Of course, one would never entrust an unknown young tough, however strong he was, with an important delivery. One of the advantages of the guild ranking system was knowing who to trust with your packages. 

“Come to think of it, I’ve never written a letter,” High Elf Archer said, adding a “hmm” as she looked intently at the quest form. “What’d you write? Reporting back that you made it here safe?” 

“Yes, in a way.” 

Uh-huh… 

She was pretty sure she understood, and it brought a slight blush to her cheeks. High Elf Archer all but tossed the receipt back at him. He must have written to that farm girl. I’m sure of it. “Gosh, Orcbolg, so you do have a soft side.” 

“Do I?” 

“Sure do.” 

“Really…” 

Uh-huh, uh-huh. High Elf Archer’s ears bounced up and down happily; she was quite taken with the conclusion she’d jumped to. 

“Okay!” She hopped off the bench, feeling renewed. 

Her hair blew behind her as she stretched, trailing through the air like a shooting star. 

“You needed to do some shopping, Orcbolg? A weapon or something?” 

“Yes.” 

Goblin Slayer nodded, then stood slowly. He tapped his hip with one hand. He indicated the scabbard, often occupied by his sword with its strange length or some primitive, stolen armament. During the previous day’s adventure, his usual willingness to unflinchingly throw away his weapons had left it empty. 

“I don’t trust a dagger… You’ll buy clothes?” 

“Sure. That sewage really stinks. I’d hate for the stench to get stuck on me…” You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to notice. High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes at him. “You dousing me in goblin guts was way worse, though.” 

“Erk…” Goblin Slayer groaned quietly, still standing there in front of her. “…If it upset you that much, should I apologize?” 

“Go ahead. I don’t care.” She gave a light, easy wave of her hand. Perfectly calm. “I guess if you apologized, I could probably stop bringing it up.” 

“…I see.” 

His response, of course, was the same as always. 

So was the atmosphere in the Guild Hall. The mob of adventurers, of staff, all were looking at them with curiosity. And some, perhaps, with envy. What’s a high elf doing with a vagabond like that? Everyone had their own theory: There was some mistake, or someone was being had. So on and so forth. 

“I noticed,” Goblin Slayer said quietly, and every ear in the room tried to catch what came next, “that despite the sewers here, there are no giant rat–slaying quests.” 

“Huh. Now that you mention it, I guess you’re right.” 

As she craned her neck to look at the quest board, High Elf Archer happened to notice some snickers. Even if they didn’t speak, their expressions said it all. Country boy. She could see them looking almost straight down their noses. You think there’d be rats in our sewers? In a town this nice? 

But High Elf Archer only gave a happy little chuckle and looked around the room. 

“Well, shall we go?” 

When, with a smirk, she took Goblin Slayer’s hand, the mutter became a roar. She enjoyed that more than she could say. The sensation of his rough leather glove in her hand was novel, too, and her smile only broadened. 

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” 

They were soon back on the road she had come down shortly before, heading back toward town. 

“What?” 

“Do you need underwear under there?” I’ve always wondered. 

Goblin Slayer gave an unusually deep sigh at her words. 

“Don’t ask me.” 

High elves would ask what they liked, of course, and she paid scant heed to his reaction. Holding his gloved hand with a kind of fascination, she glanced at his face. 

“So. Just a sword you needed, Orcbolg?” 

“No. Some other things, too.” 

“Hmm.” 

High Elf Archer thought back to everything in Goblin Slayer’s item pouch. 

All the items she couldn’t identify, all the things she’d never seen. All the equipment she would like to know the feel of. An irresistible curiosity bubbled up in her little chest, and without a hint of reluctance, she smiled and asked: 

“Whatcha gonna buy?”