Goblin Slayer - Volume 7 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - A Handout For Her

“I guess it’s time to get married,” High Elf Archer said, as if it hardly mattered to her. Her long ears jumped as she spoke.

The sunlight pouring through the window brought with it an oppressive afternoon heat.

It was summer.

This was not adventuring weather by anyone’s standards. If there wasn’t a pressing need to earn enough money to eat, nobody would have willingly gone out in the scorching heat.

Being in the tavern, however, wasn’t much better. Several dozen people were still wearing their gear, something they felt compelled to do given their status as adventurers. The collective body heat was stifling, hot enough to give the sunlight a run for its money.

The lingering humidity left drinks tepid; people took dainty sips to make them last. No one in their right mind had any interest in moving.

That was when one adventurer came bursting in, sweat dripping down her forehead and a bag at her side.

“Hello, everyone! Postal delivery!”

This was not unusual. The delivery of urgent letters was a common form of employment for adventurers. From her place at the front desk, Guild Girl signaled several of the tavern’s occupants, who came rushing up.

Each letter carried its own tidings.

“Ugh! They’re foreclosing… Gimme a break already!”

“That’s because you went into debt just to buy your equipment, idiot.” “Hah! My little sister had a kid! I’ll have to go see her after one more adventure.”

“Whoa, take that back! You know saying a line like that is a sure way to die, right?”

“Huh, a personal summons from the capital. Awesome. This is a good sign.”

“So, another…date. A trip. It’s…been a while.”

Demands for repayment, letters from home, urgent quests, and so on. Perhaps it was the heat that made everyone overlook High Elf Archer’s words in the midst of all this chatting and trading of information.

A single piece of paper is sometimes called a leaf, but the letter High Elf Archer had received was literally written on an actual leaf. It was covered in a beautiful, flowing script in the elf language; High Elf Archer looked it over and then nodded to herself.

“I guess it’s time to get married,” High Elf Archer said, as if it hardly mattered to her. Her long ears twitched as she spoke.

“……”

There was a moment of silence where all the occupants of the room looked at everyone else, trying to comprehend what they’d just heard.

The chatter in the Adventurers Guild exploded with the force of a bomb.

Dwarf Shaman spat out his wine; Lizard Priest stuck out his long tongue and hissed, “Oh-ho!”

“Say again?” Guild Girl asked, while beside her, Inspector’s eyes were agleam.

“Time for what?!” Female Knight demanded, rising to her feet. “Hey,” Heavy Warrior said, a look of resignation on his face as he pulled on her sleeve.

Rookie Warrior and Apprentice Cleric pretended to pay no attention, but it was obvious they were listening.

“Wha— Wha—” Priestess kept repeating, her hand to her mouth and her face growing red—and her eyes sparkling.

In all of this commotion, three words could be heard:

“Is that so?”

Goblin Slayer spoke with his usual indifference.

“To whom?”

“An older male cousin of mine,” High Elf Archer responded, still completely calm. She waved her hand and smiled. “Talk about a shock. I never would’ve imagined it’d be with someone as straitlaced as him!”

“Hmm,” Goblin Slayer said, nodding. “So—”

“Congratulations!” Priestess, her voice full of emotion and her face wreathed in a smile, leaned out toward High Elf Archer. She grasped the elf’s hands, speaking from the bottom of her heart. “Um, do elves have wedding ceremonies like we do? If it’s all right—”

“Of course! And it’s for a member of the chieftain’s family, so this is gonna be a big one. By all means, come!”

“Sheesh,” Dwarf Shaman said, shooting a sidelong glance at the gabbing girls. He had finally managed to mop up the wine he’d spit out, wring out his beard, and pour himself a new cup. “And here I thought the twilight of the elves had come early, what with her being the chieftain’s daughter.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Lizard Priest slapped his tail happily against the floor. “Thus have the elder ever thought of the younger.”

“Bah! I’m sure I’m actually younger than she is.”

So…was getting married at two thousand years old considered early or late for the elves?

Ignoring the dwarf’s perplexed expression, Lizard Priest took a regretful bite of his cheese. “I suppose this means bidding farewell to our mistress ranger. Ah, a lonely day that shall be…”

“? Why would you bid me farewell?” “Mm. Will you not become rather busy?”

“There won’t be any kids coming along for at least another two or three hundred years.” Who gets pregnant during their first couple of decades? High Elf Archer looked a little pouty.

“Gracious, elves do measure time on a grand scale, don’t they?” Lizard Priest muttered when he heard her speak of spans almost beyond his imagining.

“Well, we’re practically immortal. What, aren’t lizardmen?”

“Princes, in fact, are allowed only one egg, but for us the pattern is be born, multiply, live, kill, then die.”

“The cycle’s important, isn’t it?” Spin, spin. High Elf Archer drew a circle in the air with a slender finger. In this respect, the elves and the lizards, who both abided strictly by nature, had something in common. One might love battle and the other not, and one might be immortal and the other mortal, but life and death came to them just the same.

“Huh…” Priestess made a noise, apparently still a bit confused. Souls went up to heaven, where the gods resided, and where they received many comforts. Once in a while, such a soul might return to the board, but this was somewhat outside the cycle of nature.

“But,” Priestess asked, tilting her head, “do elf husbands normally let their wives go all over and do dangerous things after they get married?”

“Uh-uh! No way my cousin would permit that.” High Elf Archer laughed and waved her hand. “He was in love at first sight, I’m sure. Even though he’s so serious and hardheaded… Actually, maybe that’s exactly the reason.” “Er… Come again?” Priestess put a finger to her lip. “Hmm.” Something about this conversation wasn’t making sense.

It feels a little…off. Like we’re talking past one another.

“So,” Goblin Slayer said, coming back into the discussion so suddenly that High Elf Archer found herself blinking. “Who is getting married?”

“Oh, my older sister.”

“Coulda said that a li’l sooner, ya Anvil!” Dwarf Shaman gave her a scolding slap on the behind.

“Wha?!” High Elf Archer went from flummoxed to angry, her ears pointing straight back. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Just what do you think you’re doing?!”

“What’s this? First I’ve ever heard of an anvil that can’t stand being hit!” “You’re the worst!” By this point, she had completely abandoned anything resembling the dignity normally associated with a high elf. “This is why I hate dwarves! You… You beer barrel!”

“I thought I told you—it’s called being full-bodied, and we appreciate it!” And they were off. Priestess was used to these sudden explosions of bickering by now. She held her mug in both hands, taking little sips of her lemon water, which was practically a tepid drink by now.

“If we’re going to be guests…we’ll have to get her a gift or something.” “Is that so?” Goblin Slayer nodded. He crossed his arms and fell silent for a moment, then he grunted and finally, with some difficulty, said, “I think I

—”

“No,” Priestess said, although she was smiling. She was pointing one finger squarely at Goblin Slayer, who swallowed what he had been about to say. “We’ve been specially invited to a wonderful celebration. You can’t not go.”

“That…” Goblin Slayer broke off for a moment. “…may be so, but—” “We can ask the receptionist to make sure other people take care of the

goblin slaying.” “Hrk…”

It was like having Protection, a miracle that had come to be something of her specialty. Her smile deflected any and every attack.

Goblin Slayer made no further sound; Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in his head.

It seems milady receptionist and the farm daughter have taught him well.

“Heh-heh-heh. Well, perhaps I and master spell caster will come up with an appropriate gift.” He made a solemn and important-looking gesture then brought his palms together in a strange way. “But my dear cleric,” he added, “it seems you’ve become rather assertive!”

“Of course I have!” Priestess puffed out her small chest so as to look as strong as she could. “I learned from Goblin Slayer, after all!”

§

Now, then.

Members of the Guild staff are often enjoined to be calm and even at all times.

After all, it’s the men and women of the Guild who are the first to provide information to those embarking on an adventure. When a quest giver comes to them with a crisis, they are the first face that person sees.

It would be unseemly for a staff member to appear rushed or disinterested. Instead, their clothes must be without a wrinkle, their shirt or blouse starched, and their makeup just so.

Bed head and yawning are, of course, totally unacceptable. The moment one becomes a civil servant, one takes on the responsibility of representing one’s country.

“…But then again, when it’s hot, it’s hot.” Ah-ha-ha-ha.

With a laugh, Guild Girl poured Goblin Slayer and the others cups of cold black tea. There were one, two, three, four glasses on the desk in her little part of the reception counter. High Elf Archer and Priestess had dragged Goblin Slayer over between them. Lastly, Guild Girl set a glass down in front of herself, putting a hand to her cheek and letting out a breath.

“A wedding, though… How wonderful.”

“Yeah, I’m thrilled,” High Elf Archer said, nodding with a serious, knowing look. “Thank goodness my sister wasn’t too old for marriage.”

“How old is she?”

“Hmm…” The archer counted on her fingers, shaking her head briefly. “About eight thousand or so, I guess.”

Guild Girl, thinking that “or so” could probably represent another three zeros, smiled dryly. “Listening to elves makes you realize how silly it is to worry about your age.”

Another sigh. She wouldn’t get anywhere rhetorically digging her own grave.

Priestess offered several “Ahems” and “Ums.” The girl had only just turned sixteen and didn’t seem to know how to address the older woman, even though she herself was a cleric. If nothing else, Priestess didn’t think that Guild Girl’s appearance gave her any reason to be worried about how old she was.

“But being as pretty as you are… Do you really need to be concerned about it?”

“Hee-hee. Well, thank you very much.” Guild Girl smiled at the polite question Priestess finally came up with.

High Elf Archer gave a jovial wave of her hand and drained her glass in a single swig. “That’s right. When it comes to age, you can’t compare a dragon to an elephant, or an elephant to a mouse. It just doesn’t work.”

“Elephant.” Unexpectedly, Goblin Slayer’s helmet tilted in confusion. “What is that?”

“…You don’t know about elephants?” High Elf Archer’s ears wiggled, pleased to have a chance to educate the warrior. She spread her arms wide as she described the mysterious creature. “It has legs like pillars, a tail like a rope, ears like fans, a body like a wall, tusks like spears, a back like a throne, and a nose like a vine. Plus, it’s huge.” “…A beast?”

“Oh, and it’s colored gray.”

“I don’t understand at all,” Goblin Slayer said with a grunt then gulped down his tea.

Guild Girl watched them happily then let out a bit of a chuckle. “Maybe I can show you the entry in the Monster Manual under Elephant some time. Now…” Her gaze moved around her desk, and she flipped through some papers. “You wanted me to assign those goblin quests, right?”

“Uh-huh. We’d like to bring our friend Goblin Slayer along,” Priestess said calmly. Her smile, like a flower in bloom, never wavered.

“Personally, I don’t particularly want to miss it.” Goblin Slayer set his empty glass down on the countertop with a clack. “I simply do not want to leave the goblins to their own devices.”

“Yes, yes, obviously not,” Guild Girl said with a soft smile. He was as dispassionate and decisive as ever. Some people took him for a simple obsessive, while others saw him as trustworthy and reliable. Guild Girl, needless to say, was in the latter group.

“From early spring into summer, the goblins are at their strongest. Perhaps it is because they are angry.”

“Is there any season when the goblins aren’t scary?” High Elf Archer asked.

“Hrm…” Goblin Slayer crossed his arms and grunted.

Guild Girl listened to the two of them with some pleasure. “All the same,” she said quietly, “there isn’t that much goblin slaying in summer, is there?”

“Is that true?” Priestess asked with evident surprise.

“Yes,” Guild Girl said. At least, there aren’t that many quests. Then, rather than explain further, she shuffled through her papers for no particular reason. It would be rude to speak of such inauspicious things when someone had just received a wedding invitation.

Summer: to goblins, the most salient thing about this season was that it was not autumn. The crops in the fields were still young, and of course, harvest was a long way off. No matter how much the goblins might want food, there was simply not much to gain from attacking villages. So instead, they shifted their focus to travelers, wandering shepherds, and itinerant healers during the hottest time of year.

What did summer mean for goblins? Spring was all well and good, but in summer, the rains got heavier, and the accursed sunlight grew ever more intense. Living in a hole became quite unpleasant. Granted, one didn’t imagine goblins to be overly concerned about their living situation, but they were always angry about something. And more reasons to get angry naturally meant a greater incidence of violence.

Woe to the traveler who was set upon by goblins on the road in summer. Goblins didn’t have the wisdom to store up food, although even if they had, it would soon have spoiled. After they’d had their fill of making sport of their victim, they would immediately eat whatever they could of the unfortunate soul, thinking nothing of the future.

Man or woman, in the end, not even the bones would remain.

Sadly, it’s an all too common story.

Travelers losing their lives on the road, of course, was hardly a phenomenon that only occurred in summer. Goblins and Non-Prayers were by no means the only ones who were hungry. Bandits, brigands, and mercenaries turned to raiding—among others—were all out there.

The point is, every corner of the world was full of danger. Some took this as a reason to criticize the king or the country’s administration, but such people simply didn’t know their history. In all of time and memory, there has never been an age without an element of danger.

Similarly, resources have always been limited. As far as Guild Girl knew, the current king was doing a perfectly decent job… Or at least, so she thought. He didn’t start unnecessary wars, and he had faced off with the Dark Gods’ followers to keep the country safe.

We’ve got peace now, as far as it goes.

Even if the definition of peace was merely the lull between wars.

But to repeat, resources were limited and danger was ever present. The Guild wouldn’t necessarily receive a quest simply because one traveler had gone missing. For one thing, if nobody knew that the person had disappeared, nothing would be done. It was a sad situation, and a flaw in the Adventurers Guild. Adventurers moved on these sorts of problems only when a traveler’s relation filed a quest…

…Or when the adventurers themselves have very good hearts.

“But there are still goblins out there,” Goblin Slayer said, with no heed for what was going on in Guild Girl’s mind. “That will not change.”

“But,” said Priestess, shrewdly pretending to ask a question while actually cutting in, “you can’t defeat them all by yourself, can you? And you don’t have to, right?”

“…”

Goblin Slayer was silent. After so many years with him, Guild Girl knew that this was how he acted when he had been backed into a corner.

In some ways, he’s not that difficult a person to understand.

An involuntary giggle escaped her lips, and Goblin Slayer’s steel helmet turned toward her. She waved a hand as if to say Nothing, nothing.

“Honestly,” she said, “it won’t do for us to be troubling you with every single goblin quest that comes along, Mr. Goblin Slayer.”

“Well, there you have it,” Priestess said with a sweet but pointed cough. “Will you handle this for us?”

“Oh, certainly. I know this man would never take a vacation if we left him to his own devices.”

“Sounds a lot like you.”

Someone gave Guild Girl an unexpected rap on the head, provoking a little ow! It was her seatmate and colleague, Inspector, standing behind her with a sheaf of papers in hand.

Inspector sighed as if to suggest that this served Guild Girl right, and she followed up by gently tapping her papers against the other woman’s shoulder. “Remind me how long it’s been since you last took a day off?”

Guild Girl clutched her head and protested weakly, “I—I take them…”

Inspector produced another exasperated sigh. “So then you’re going to this wedding, too, right? That’s what these kids are here for, isn’t it? To invite you?”

Before Guild Girl had a chance to answer, High Elf Archer was leaning in over the desk. “Of course!” she said, nodding vigorously. Without any need to pretend, she added, “We’re friends, after all!”

Seeing this display of genuine eagerness, Guild Girl responded with an ambiguous expression and a scratch of her cheek. Then her fingers played through her hair, twirling her braids. Yes, she was aware it wasn’t very polite.

“Er… Well, I certainly appreciate the sentiment, but…”

No, stop. If I turn down this invitation…

How could she explain herself to High Elf Archer, let alone Priestess or Goblin Slayer? She took a quick glance at his helmet, even though, as ever, it hid his expression.

“Just take a couple days off already!” “Yipe!” Another blow from the papers.

As Guild Girl sat there groaning quietly, Inspector put on her best smile and said, “Now, Mister, uh… Goblin Slayer.”

“What is it?”

Guild Girl made a little squeak, but Inspector ignored her, pulling the papers right out of her hands. They were, of course, a collection of the nearest goblin-slaying quests.

“It’ll be best for both of us if we get some of this work out of the way,” Inspector said, rolling up the papers like a scroll and handing the lot to Goblin Slayer. “Maybe you could help my friend here relax by taking care of two or three goblin nests.”

“Naturally.”

There was no argument, no hesitation as Goblin Slayer took the quest papers in one decisive motion. Silently, he unrolled them and considered the descriptions. He never so much as glanced at the rewards. What he wanted was information, knowledge about the goblins’ fighting strength.

After a long moment, he asked softly, “Is it all right?”

High Elf Archer was frowning as hard as she could, her long ears back against her head, but she answered, “I can’t speak for the dwarf… But me, I’m not gonna say no.”

“You’re sure? I don’t much mind either way.”

“Excuse me very much, Goblin Slayer, sir,” Priestess said, furrowing her shapely eyebrows. She raised a pale pointer finger and, in a tone suggesting they’d had this conversation more than once before, said, “When we don’t have a choice, it doesn’t count as a discussion, remember?”

§

“Hrr—gyaaaaaahhhhhh!”

The woman’s scream, like the gibbering of a chicken having its neck wrung, echoed throughout the twilit chapel.

However many tried to push their way closer, there was a physical limit to how many goblins one person could accommodate at a time. Yes, goblins were small, but even counting both arms, her mouth, and perhaps her hair, there was room for maybe just five or six at a time.

There were easily more than a dozen monsters surrounding the woman bound to the altar at that moment, though. The violation of her chastity was horrific enough, but this victim was subject to all their cruel desires at once, truly a pitiful position.

The woman whose agonized scream had sounded in the worship hall was now dressed in nothing more than the rags of what had once been a traveling outfit. Her limbs, which could just be seen through the press of goblin bodies, were tan and fairly muscular.

She had been a traveler lodging in this convent, in a small library dedicated to the God of Knowledge.

Now there was no way to know where she had meant to go or why she had stayed in this place. The texts, the gems of wisdom stored here, were no longer in a fit state to be read. All the knowledge gathered by the maidens— who had left their homes and shut themselves up in this place for any number of reasons—had been trampled underfoot. The goblins had taken these precious records of knowledge and torn them apart, defiled them, even set fire to a few at random.

The pillaged library now held only the nuns, their spirits broken by unimaginable predations. The traveler saw what the goblins had done to them, and yet, she chose to fight—good, strong prey for the little devils.

Had she been fighting to protect the nuns or to open a way for her own escape? The goblins assumed it must be the latter. The more honorable reading, however, was that the traveler had wielded her sword bravely, with no concern for herself.

At least until the goblins pulled her to the ground, beat her mercilessly, and broke her arm.

It had been several days since then, and the remaining goblins were still busy getting their revenge for the ones she had killed. They had left the traveler for last so that they could enjoy seeing her terror build as she witnessed the fates they devised for the nuns.

They never once thought that she might try to escape. Or rather, they assumed there was no possible way she could.

Goblins habitually demonstrate extreme overconfidence despite the absence of proof. They never imagine anything they attempt might fail. And even on the off chance that anything should happen— “GOORRIRRROG!!”

“Urgh! Aggh—gah—y—you bas—taaaghh!”

—it would always be because some idiot like this had gotten in their way.

The goblins fully believed that everyone in this little library was a complete and utter fool. They kept this room full of incomprehensible, boring papers, and there was so little food. Humans, the goblins chuckled, did so much that made so little sense.

The goblins, of course, could have never understood the meaning of the tomes held within this library. It was just off a road, standing quietly in a forest where it had been built with the conviction that while knowledge and wisdom were born of the profane world, it was important to avoid becoming sullied by that same world.

Just because it was a small library didn’t mean it lacked any defenses against monsters or bandits. It had stone walls, and occasionally, traveling adventurers or mercenaries would stay there. But prolonged exposure to the elements could wear away a part of a wall. And there were those times when no armed visitor was lodging with them.

Was that why the goblins had targeted them? Why had they been attacked by the goblins?

One could ask, but the God of Knowledge was unlikely ever to lead one to an answer.

Goblins were like a natural disaster; they came from nowhere at all. They had simply happened to appear here, at this moment.

“Hrrraaaaghhhh!”

The library was now a place of debauchery. And over in one corner of the God of Knowledge’s worship hall, a single goblin rested his chin in his hands, enjoying the sound of the woman’s screams in his ears.

Once they’d had their fun with her, would they keep her alive to bear their young, or immediately kill and eat her?

Most likely, she would become food, the goblin thought. The other young-bearers needed something to eat, and anyway, it would be boring not to kill her. Unsatisfying.

“Gyaaaaaaahhhh!”

A high-pitched scream. Some impatient goblin must have applied a hatchet to her broken arm or something.

“GROB! GOOROORB!!” “GOORROB!”

Somebody complained to the hatcheteer, he responded, and their cruel cackling at the thrashing woman filled the chapel.

This wouldn’t do. There were several ways to enjoy a dead woman, but now was the only moment to seize the pleasures of a live one.

The goblin licked his chops, his tiny brain straining. Maybe he could find a good opportunity to cut in line, get a chance to enjoy the woman while she was still alive. This was his only concern; he had no interest in the other goblins he would be cutting ahead of, much less the young woman herself.

Goblins had a sense of solidarity, recognized one another as fellows. But their first loyalty was always and ever to themselves. How could they gain, have pleasure, achieve the best position, kill people who were evil—or at least people they didn’t like?

The death of other goblins made a perfect excuse to enjoy their victim until they killed off the unfortunate thing.

“GROOROB!” “GRO! GOORB!!”

The goblin picked one of the others almost at random and lit into him.

I’ve been on guard all this time! You all need to do some guarding, too! It’s not fair for goblins who haven’t been on guard duty to have all the fun, you greedy bastards.

The goblin made his case (in which he highlighted only those details that were convenient) then gave the thoughtless creature a shove on the shoulder.

“Er—ergaahh! Y— Y-you’re…killing…me…!” “GROB! GOOROBB!”

This was a monster who cared nothing for either other goblins or how the pitiful woman tried to resist him. The cruelties by which he enjoyed himself don’t bear speaking of.

Here’s the important point: absorbed in his enjoyment, he never noticed. “GRRRRR…”

He didn’t notice the arm reach out of the darkness and grab the goblin who stood grumbling about the unfairness of it all. The eerily silent appendage wrapped itself around the goblin’s neck like a snake and squeezed hard.

“…B—?!”

Before the creature could even cry out, a knife had slit his throat.

A hand covered the goblin’s mouth as he choked on his own blood, resting there for several seconds until he had stopped breathing.

The goblin’s corpse was readily rolled behind one of the pews, and then the owner of the arm waved toward the shadows.

That owner was a man, wearing grimy leather armor, a cheap-looking steel helmet, a sword of a strange length, and a small, round shield on his arm.

It was Goblin Slayer.

At his gesture, Lizard Priest came forward, his tail tucked in. High Elf Archer followed him, then Priestess, and then Dwarf Shaman. None of them made a sound as they moved: not a footstep, not a rustle of their clothes.

The reason they could pull off such a feat was thanks to the girl who was praying with her eyes shut, her hands wrapped around a sounding staff.

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant us peace to accept all things.”

They were ensconced in the absolute quiet granted by Priestess’s Silence miracle.

Her vestments were covered in dark stains, evidence of the several goblins they had already dealt with. The cruor-smeared marks didn’t seem to bother her, though; she only knelt and continued to pray. Her faithful heart helped to protect the adventurers with this soundless bubble.

High Elf Archer was much the opposite; she looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. “Ugghh…”

She may have been using a perfume pouch, but even so, the stench of goblin waste, and of the juices of their innards, assaulted her sharp senses. She couldn’t keep the disgusting stuff from getting on her cloak, leaving her outfit smelling rather unpleasant.

Why can’t the gods block out smells, too? High Elf Archer looked up reproachfully at the statue standing in the worship hall.

It was an image of the sage who had charted the movements of the stars.

There was, of course, no answer to High Elf Archer’s impertinent question.

I’m here saving your followers because apparently you can’t do it yourself. I’d appreciate a little gratitude.

Okay, maybe that was a bit too close to sacrilege. Her ears twitched, and she set an arrow into her bow.

The adventurers’ party had made it to the chapel without undue difficulty. And now they were faced with twenty or so goblins, absorbed in their fun. They weren’t going to let this chance go.

The members of Goblin Slayer’s party nodded to one another, followed by a series of quick signals.

“……”

“……”

It was Dwarf Shaman who acted first. He took a mouthful of fire wine from the flask at his hip and immediately spat it out. The mist settled over the room as he chanted, “Drink deep, sing loud, let the spirits lead you! Sing loud, step quick, and when to sleep they see you, may a jar of fire wine be in your dreams to greet you!”

The goblins, afflicted by Stupor, began to loll on their feet, whereupon Goblin Slayer jumped into action. He vaulted over the pew, running along the stone floor and sending his sword flying. The blade traveled noiselessly through the air until the moment it left the area of Silence’s effect, when it made a soft whistling sound.

Even goblins, as stupid as they are, wouldn’t miss that. “GOOROB! GOROOOB!!”

“GRRORB!!”

Several of the monsters pointed and shouted, but it was too late. The goblin who stood thrusting his hips felt something enter the back of his head and pierce him clean through to his mouth. Did he even understand what it was?

The goblin, his spine sheared clean through, foamed at the mouth, his dirty golden eyes rolling in his head.

“GOOROOROOOB?!”

“One.”

Goblin Slayer practically lunged forward, using his shield to lash out at one of the nearby goblins. In the same motion, he grabbed a sickle from the hip of the first writhing monster, using it to cut the throat of the second.

“Two.”

Using his shield to stop the blood from spattering on them, he pulled out the blade then tossed the goblin down so it was covering the young woman.

“You are alive, correct?”

He glanced down at the twitching, blood-covered woman beneath the corpse.

He knew how the goblins worked. It would be more than a little troublesome if they were able to use the woman as a shield against him.

The motions he was seeing, though, were probably shock from pain and blood loss. She was still alive, but she didn’t have long. As usual, time was of the essence.

The goblins made their hostility toward the invaders plain. Goblin Slayer watched them vigilantly.

“Hurry!”

“Let us be on our way, then.” “R-right!”

Lizard Priest swept Priestess up in his arms then set off at a run, his claws digging into the stone floor. He leaned forward at an angle that would have been untenable for a human, but his long tail allowed him to maintain his balance.

“GOROOOB! GROBB!” “GGOOORB!”

The goblins, needless to say, would not let them get away with this. They may not have been very intelligent, but they weren’t going to let these women slip through their fingers all at once. And Lizard Priest literally had his hands full with Priestess…

“Krrraaahhhhhhaaaa!” “GOOROB?!”

Then again, as long as he had his claws and fangs and tail, who cared about his hands? Dragons and nagas certainly didn’t need weapons.

“GROOB?!”

“GOBORB?!”

An old proverb said to let sleeping dragons lie. But what did goblins know about proverbs?

Lizard Priest’s tail and the claws of his feet each struck a goblin, sending them flying. The wounds would not be fatal, but all he needed right now was to get Priestess up to the altar.

“Shall I remain on the front row?” he asked. “Yes, please.”

In the middle of this brief conversation, Goblin Slayer let go of the sickle blade, which was lodged in the skull of a goblin. “GROBBB…?!”

As his victim collapsed, he grabbed the rough-hewn club out of the creature’s hand. It would be enough; he didn’t need to be precise right now.

“Well then, milady Priestess. I leave this to you.” “Sure thing. Good luck!”

Lizard Priest set her down gently, using his tail to keep the goblins at bay, then made his strange palms-together gesture.

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

The fang between his palms grew into a Swordclaw before their eyes, and Lizard Priest set upon the enemy, howling.

“Krrraaaaaaahaaaaahhhhaaaa!” “GOORBGG?!?!”

He was a cleric, yes, but a fighting one, the kind that might be called a warrior-priest. Had he been born to another race, he might have made an excellent knight.

In contrast to Goblin Slayer, who made quick, precise jabs at vital points, Lizard Priest was a whirlwind of violence. The chapel, already besmirched with the blood of the nuns and the filth of the goblins, was now further dirtied with the goblins’ blood.

“Okay…!”

Priestess, for her part, still clutched her sounding staff. She nodded energetically and turned to face her own battlefield.

The young woman’s breathing was ragged; Priestess knelt beside her, heedless of the gore and filth that got on her in the process. The scene was beyond awful, but she swallowed her disgust, along with whatever it was that had come back up from her stomach.

No matter how many times I see things like this, I never get used to them.

But…

She must never get used to them, she thought forcefully. And each time she repeated this to herself, her faith became stronger.

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, lay your revered hand upon this child’s wounds.”

She gripped her staff imploringly, lifting up her heart to the Earth Mother in heaven.

Please, be so gracious as to heal this person’s wounds. Save her life. Save her.

And so at long last, she had the chance to cast Minor Heal again.

And the munificent Earth Mother responded to the heartfelt prayer of her dear follower. A pale light bubbled forth, leaping toward the young woman’s injuries, starting to staunch the flow of blood.

The miracle would not, of course, restore lost vitality. Even a divine miracle could not easily undo wounds of the body and mind.

But neither would she die immediately. “Goblin Slayer, sir, we’re okay over here…!”

“Good.” Without pausing, Goblin Slayer reached into the item pouch on his hip, pulled out an egg, and flung it at the goblins.

“GOOROOROB?!” “GOOOROBOROOB?!?!”

An unpleasant smoke sprang up, prompting a chorus of shouts. Several of those goblins who had been enjoying torturing the woman now thrashed about in pain, tears in their little eyes. The egg had been a shell filled with Goblin Slayer’s homemade tear gas. He hadn’t been able to use it at first for fear that the gas might get into the wounds of the hostage girl, but that was no longer a concern.

“Eight— Nine!”

He tossed his club at one goblin, then brought down another with a rusty sword he had stolen. He slashed the creature’s throat, not caring whether he destroyed the weapon in the process. There was a whistling from the monster’s windpipe, along with a geyser of blood, and then the goblins collapsed one on top of the other.

“GBBB…!”

“GORBG! GGOOBBG!”

Half the goblin number had been annihilated in the space of a moment, and now the monsters were afraid. As scared as they were, though, they hated to let their hard-won prey escape. Not to mention the ugly part of their minds that longed to add the new young woman and the elf girl to their collection.

However, it was difficult to get past the human warrior and the lizard monk out in front.

Well, then… “GROOB!”

“GORB!”

Immediately, several of the goblins dropped their weapons and charged blindly. Were they trying to form up, or run away, or—? No.

“They’re going for shields!” Goblin Slayer sized up the situation in an instant and issued orders.

The fleeing creatures were heading for drop lids on the ground. They were going to bring up the women they had captured to bear their young. They would use them as meat shields.

“I hate that about goblins. If they think I’m just gonna stand here— Hah!” The creatures suddenly found arrows protruding from their hips. From the shadow of the pews, High Elf Archer had let loose a merciless hail of arrows.

“GROB! GROOORB?!”

“GOOROB?!”

Three shots without a moment’s pause. Three goblins fell to the ground, screeching.

It was easy to aim for the head, but there was always the possibility of a fumble. At the moment, immobilizing the monsters was more important; they could be dealt with after that.

High Elf Archer took just an instant to aim, then planted a bud-tipped bolt in a goblin’s eyeball.

“Orcbolg! I’ve got things covered over here!” “Well then, shall I take the stairs?”

Dwarf Shaman’s work as a spell caster completed, what remained was physical labor. With surprising agility for such a large frame, he bounded toward the staircase. He drew his hand ax almost faster than the eye could see and assumed a fighting stance; he was clearly no amateur.

“GOOROOB!” “GRRRRORB!”

This was where the goblin advance would stop.

The creatures had originally gotten in through a crack in the paltry defensive wall, but now they were the ones who were surrounded. Just like many new adventurers, the goblins had never imagined this might happen. They believed that it was theirs to kill, and not to be killed. This was an absolute; yet, here they were in the opposite situation.

Goblin Slayer understood this well. He himself had been that way once. “Fourteen… Fifteen!”

“Krrraahhhh!”

Goblin Slayer smashed one creature’s head with his club then grabbed a hand spear and stabbed another in the throat.

Lizard Priest struck out with claws and fangs and tail, rendering goblins into clouds of blood.

This was a party with four Silver-ranked adventurers and one Steel-ranked adventurer.

More importantly, one of those adventurers was Goblin Slayer.

There had never been any question of whether he would defeat twenty- odd goblins holed up in a church building. For him, the question was always how to do so quickly, how to kill precisely, and how to rescue any hostages.

§

“Twenty and three, is it?”

The battle had ended some time later. The sun was sinking, and the library was submerged in darkness. The only light came from lanterns flickering here and there.

Goblin Slayer did his work nonchalantly in the pale illumination: he went from one goblin corpse to the next, stabbing each with his weapon to make sure it was dead, then piling them up in a corner of the chapel.

The worship hall, now reeking of blood, rot, and refuse, and stained a gruesome crimson, no longer bore any sign of its former sacred purity. Whether or not it had been the goblins’ objective, they had succeeded in utterly desecrating this place.

Just over twenty nuns had worked in the library. Roughly half of them were still alive. The rest remained only as the meat and bones in a stew pot.

Lizard Priest was in the process of bringing each of the nuns upstairs into the chapel from the basement storehouse.

“Stay strong, now. When dawn breaks, we can take you somewhere less upsetting.”

“Thank you… Truly…”

“Think nothing of it. We may revere different deities, but monkeys came from lizards, in the end. That makes us cousins.”

“Heh-heh… You lizardmen…say the strangest…things…”

The women chuckled among themselves. They were wrapped in cloth, although nothing could hide how filthy and emaciated they were. One look at the bandages wrapped around their ankles made it clear that they were not going to be walking anywhere.

Priestess found herself biting her lip. If there was one pain she did not yet know, it was that of a rusty dagger cutting her Achilles tendon.

“…It’s all right now,” she said. “We’ll get you back to town soon.” “Tha…nk…y…ou…”

“Don’t try to talk. Right now, you just need to rest.”

Priestess moved conscientiously among the pews, administering first aid to the nuns and the traveler.

Everyone avoided asking what would become of them now.

There are quite a few, Goblin Slayer mused. So many of them who had maintained their sanity, and had neither committed suicide nor been used up then killed. This library could be considered lucky.

Thanks to the traveler, who had no doubt been prepared to fight to the death, one of the nuns had been spared this horror. She had been sent to another temple with a message and on her return discovered what was going on. She had gone back up the road to file a quest at the Adventurers Guild, but it had taken several days for adventurers to be dispatched.

It was thanks to the traveler that Goblin Slayer and his party had made it here. The hours she had bought with her blood gave them the time they needed to arrive.

If the traveler had decided instead to abandon the temple, or to throw down her weapon after only a token resistance, the nun would never have been able to escape, and the situation probably would not have been discovered until things were far worse.

“…Twenty-three, then,” he murmured as if he himself almost didn’t believe it. Then he tossed aside his bloody spear. It rolled noisily over to a corner of the chapel where there rested a pot with what remained of the food. In place of the spear, he took up a sword from a convenient goblin corpse, putting it in the scabbard at his hip.

It was only after doing all this that Goblin Slayer sat down in one of the pews.

“If it had not been for the books and the hostages, it would’ve been quicker to set fire to the place.” He sighed deeply.

“…Hmph. What a thing to say,” Priestess chided, pattering over to him.

He looked at her without moving his helmet.

She must have finished providing first aid. Her blood-spattered cheeks softened, and then she managed a full-faced smile. She was trying not to show what must have been considerable fatigue from using two miracles.

“You want her to get angry at you again? No fire! she’ll say.” Priestess put her pointer fingers up by her head and flicked them up and down.

She was trying to joke—maybe forcing herself to. Goblin Slayer didn’t know one way or the other. The shadows cast by the thin candlelight, combined with the visor of his helmet, kept him from reading the subtleties of her expression.

Finally, he simply said, “Indeed,” and then closed his eyes.

He didn’t intend to rest for very long, of course. He steadied his breathing, relaxed his awareness just for an instant, and then focused it again.

After all, there were still goblins around. Perhaps not here, but somewhere. There was nowhere he could let down his guard.

“…It took some work, though.”

“Well, that…” Priestess’s eyes flitted here and there as she tried to pick her words. “…happens sometimes, I think.”

“…I see.”

“Even the gods aren’t all-powerful.”

Then, almost hesitantly, she sat down next to Goblin Slayer. She was close enough that he might have felt the heat from her body, if he hadn’t been wearing his armor. Goblin Slayer’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the faint sound of breath he could detect past his metal helmet.

“How is the traveler girl?” he asked.

“Asleep, finally… She’s okay in the short term. But she doesn’t have enough blood.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

Priestess immediately grasped what Goblin Slayer meant by this brief response.

They would act the next day. In other words, they would spend the night here. They certainly couldn’t ask the rescued women to walk. They would need a carriage or cart of some sort. Moreover, moving this many people at night would be dangerous. Especially without a plan.

“Make sure you rest a bit in the meantime.”

“…Right.” Priestess nodded. Her eyes drifted shut. She entertained no notion that she might actually sleep, but just closing her eyes was enough to relax a little. Goblin Slayer had been willing to take on a bit of the weight on her shoulders.

“But…” She heard Lizard Priest’s footsteps approaching softly. He looked around somberly then continued in a quiet voice, “I feel the little devils have been…rather more clever of late.”

“You think so?”

“It’s only a feeling, but…” And then he went on quickly, with the special excitement that lizardmen seemed to have for matters of battle. “Ever since the goblin paladin, I have noticed it.”

“I agree,” Goblin Slayer said with a nod. “Perhaps they’ve gotten smarter…?”

Although, he added, he had labored to kill them precisely so that they might not learn.

Or perhaps my enemies to this point have been only puppets?

No. He dismissed the notion with a shake of his head. In some cases, one could chop off the head to destroy the body, but this was nothing nearly so simple. Was that not a lesson he had learned fully a decade ago?

“We will need some new plans ourselves.”

“Pfah! The little monsters wouldn’t know the value of a gem if it hit them in the eye.” Dwarf Shaman bustled up, carrying an armful of cargo. The copious dust around him indicated that he must have been in the storehouse or somewhere similar.

None of them, of course, would stoop so low as to steal from these nuns.

The point was to make sure everything was safe.

All the same, Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in his head with great interest. “Were any of the texts safe?” he asked.

“Just the ones they didn’t take for trash,” Dwarf Shaman replied. There was a clatter as he piled several objects onto the pew: stone tablets—no, perhaps clay. Such items were not as convenient as paper, but they were proof that records from the Age of the Gods and the Elder Days still existed.

“I doubt they could tell these from flagstones,” Lizard Priest said, brushing the surface of one of the tablets gently so as not to scratch it with his claws.

The form of the letters appeared quite old; even Lizard Priest could not read them. The assiduously nongeometric characters formed patterns that threatened to make the reader dizzy.

“In our ignorance of what they say, perhaps we are not so different from the goblins. But let us be grateful that something survived.”

“We’ll have to figure out exactly what they are when we have a chance.

But that can wait.”

“Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “How are things outside?”

“Long-Ears is having a look around. She’s got good night vision, and a ranger’s agility.”

If there’s any left, she’ll find them. The dwarf pulled out his wine jug. Goblin Slayer accepted it and took a swig, drinking lustily through the visor of his helmet. The spirits burned on the way down, calling his attention to how his focus had been dulled by fatigue.

“…You’ve both used spells. You need rest.”

“And so do you… But maybe that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We need to make sure we have enough for a front row.” Then the dwarf took a mouthful of wine himself, before passing the jug to Lizard Priest.

“Oh-ho,” the lizard said, squinting, and took a big mouthful of wine. His long tongue slid out to lick the droplets from his jaws, and he coughed once. “It makes one wish for cheese.”

“When we get back,” Dwarf Shaman reassured his companion, pounding him on the shoulder. “Can’t let ourselves get distracted just ’cause we’re heading home.”

“True, but I think we’re okay for tonight.” The clear voice came from the direction of the door, which creaked as it opened. A silhouette slipped into the chapel, like a cat making its way along the road at night. The woman shook slightly, her long ears twitching—it was High Elf Archer.

“I did a circuit of the area, but I didn’t see any footprints from any escaped goblins.”

“You’re sure?” Goblin Slayer asked softly, to which she replied, “I’m sure.”

High Elf Archer frowned and scratched at some dried blood on her cheek. “So as far as heading home, if we don’t spot any goblins between here and there, I think this is the end of it.”

“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded shortly, looking at the pile of corpses in the corner of the chapel.

Twenty-odd goblins. Twenty-odd goblins they had dealt with and killed themselves.

Then there were the injured women sleeping on the pews.

Is this the end of it?

“……I see.” He nodded again and shifted slightly. Then he gently shook Priestess, who was leaning against him. “Wake up. She’s back.”

“…Mm? Ah. Oh, r-right.” Priestess sat up with a start. She gave a few quick shakes of her head and rubbed her eyes, forcing her drifting attention to focus.

“Okay, I’ll clean up, then. We’re all…”

The words very dirty never quite reached her lips; she swallowed them instead. She grabbed her sounding staff and began walking among the women sleeping on the pews, High Elf Archer following her. Priestess emerged into the center of the room, and there she knelt, clutching her staff in both hands. A posture of prayer.

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, please, by your revered hand, cleanse us of our corruption.”

Moved by the devotion of her precious follower, an unseen hand reached down from heaven to touch the girls’ skin. There was a pleasant feeling accompanied by a sensation of touch as soft as that of a feather.

And behold: before their very eyes, the filth sloughed off the girls and flew away—all the dirt, the streaks of blood, the gore stuck to their clothes. Somehow, their faces seemed to relax, transforming to show expressions of repose.

“Mm,” High Elf Archer said, squinting like a cat. She opened her arms wide. “That’s really something. It’s almost like they were washed with water. Is that the newest miracle you got?”

She would have to apologize to the gods for her earlier complaints.

“Yes,” Priestess replied with a hint of happiness. “When I told the head of the temple that I had been promoted to Steel, they asked me to perform the ceremony.”

“Kind of a restrained miracle, though, don’cha think? Didn’t they have anything flashier?”

“…I had to go with what I needed,” Priestess murmured, averting her eyes.

“Ahh,” High Elf Archer frowned, understanding.

In general it was said to be the gods who decided what miracle a supplicant would receive, but sometimes a fervent wish could gain one a particular ability.

This was the Purify miracle. It invoked an act of the gods to remove impurity. That was, as it were, all it did. And to use an all-too-valuable miracle on something like that…

Yet, at the same time, the idea of being able to clean off her clothes and body once a day while on adventure gladdened her girlish heart. In addition, the miracle could also purify water or air to a certain extent, so it couldn’t hurt to have around.

There was also the issue that to measure the worth of divine intervention merely in terms of how much it benefited the user was the worst kind of sacrilege.

“……”

Priestess put a hand to her small chest and took a deep breath. Her eyelids fluttered and she bit her lip.

I’ve become used to it, haven’t I?

After all the talk of weddings, they came here and saw what these goblins had done, what an awful state they had left these young women in. And although her heart ached, she still found herself able to have a little chat. Even if it was partly for show.

It would have been unimaginable a year before. “It’s a good miracle.”

A heavy hand fell easily on her shoulder. She jumped and looked up to see a grimy metal helmet. Those few words were enough to make her heart pound.

“There are uses for it.”

And then Priestess’s brow drooped, an ambivalent expression on her face.

§

The crimson of twilight spread to every corner of the plaza.

It was sunset in summer. The west wind blew in to carry off the heat of the day, spreading ripples through the sea of grass in the pasture.

“Okay, everyone, time to go home!”

The cows, which had been munching contentedly on grass, raised their heads with a bevy of lowing. Slowly but surely, they started walking, forming a herd that made for the barn.

Cows were generally obedient like this. There was little need for Cow Girl to get too involved with them, but that didn’t mean she had no work to do. It was important to count the cattle, making sure all the animals got back to the barn safely. Yes, he checked the fence diligently every morning, but that didn’t mean there might never be a problem. Foxes and wolves were trouble enough, but it was also possible simply to miss an animal out in the fields.

And once the cows were all in the barn, then she would have to feed them. Livestock like cows and horses were precious assets. It was impossible to pay too much attention to them.

“…Good, you’re all here.” Cow Girl, crooking her fingers as the cattle walked by, counted off the last one then gave an energetic nod of her head.

It had been two days now since he, her longtime friend, had set off on an adventure.

It was only natural that he might be out adventuring some days. He was an adventurer.

There were days he didn’t come home. Days she was simply waiting. Eventually, there might even come a day when the waiting never ended. He was an adventurer, and it was only natural.

Heh. Can’t go down that road, or I’ll never come back.

“Let’s just focus on work. Work!” There was another gust of wind.

The summer breeze brought with it a bounty of aromas: the smell of fresh grass, the distant odors of the many dinners in town, even the smell of the cows.

“Hmm…”

And then there was a smell like rusted metal. It was an odor that, to her chagrin, she had become much acquainted with over the past several years.

Cow Girl stopped in the process of following the cows to the barn, turning on her heel. Far away, she could see a figure coming from the direction of town, approaching at a bold, nonchalant stride.

Clad in a grimy metal helmet and cheap-looking leather armor while a sword of a strange length swung at the hip, and a small, round shield rested on an arm.

Cow Girl squinted. And then, as always, she smiled. “Welcome home.

You tired?”

“Yes,” he replied with a nod. “I’m home.”

She came up to him at a jog. She took a short breath in, then out. His movements looked normal. She felt her cheeks relax.

“You’re not hurt. Good, I’m glad.”

“Yes.” He nodded assiduously then started walking again; he had slowed somewhat from earlier. Cow Girl fell into step beside him.

“Hrm…” Her face pinched slightly. If she could smell him, could he smell her sweating? She took a little sniff of her sleeve, but she couldn’t tell.

Eh, I guess it’s a little late for that.

“Hey, what do adventurers do about dirt and stuff, anyway?”

“We change when we can. Wipe our bodies. Some even use spells or miracles.”

“Huh!”

“Sometimes body odor can alert goblins to your presence. It’s foolish to be upwind of them.”

I guess that makes sense. Cow Girl nodded then swooped around to stand on his other side.

“What is it?” he asked, but she simply waved the question away and said, “Don’t worry about it. Do you want dinner tonight? Or did you eat already?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll cook for you, then. Stew okay?”

“Yes.” Then the helmet nodded gently up and down. The soft voice, too, sounded more lighthearted than usual. That alone was enough to make Cow Girl glad she had taken the time to prepare this meal.

Look at me. I’m so easy.

Well, she didn’t exactly feel bad about it. Things were fine this way. “You must be tired though, huh?”

“…”

There was no answer. He still had the bad habit of clamming up when he didn’t have a good response.

Cow Girl giggled a little and leaned forward, as if she might be able to see inside the helmet from underneath. From the other side of the steel visor, she couldn’t see his expression, but she had a pretty good idea what it was.

“Rough time?”

“…There are no easy jobs.” “True enough.”

Their shadows stretched out in the summer twilight.

The cows were back in the barn. All that was left was to go home.

They had walked the path home together so often since they were little.

How many times did this make it now?

She didn’t feel that much had changed since the old days, although his shadow was now a little longer than hers.

“By the way…”

“Hmm?” She kept her eyes on their silhouettes as she answered. She changed her stride a little bit, trying to get their shadows to overlap.

Not    for    any    special    reason.    It    was    just    something    she    suddenly remembered doing as children.

“It seems there is a wedding.” “Wedding…?”

Well, now. She found she couldn’t help glancing at him. He spoke the word as if it were unfamiliar to him, like it came from a foreign language.

Wedding. A wedding. To join together with someone. To spend your lives together.

“A wedding, huh? And were you invited?” she said quietly.

“Yes,” he replied with his usual brevity. “My…” And then he paused for a moment. “In my party, there is an elf.”

“Oh,” Cow Girl said, squinting. The cheerful, upbeat ranger girl. “Her.” “Her older sister and cousin, it seems.”

“That’s nice.”

“I was told to invite you as well.” “…Are you sure?”

“That is not for me to decide.”

Hrm, Cow Girl grunted.

There was the farm. There was work. Could she really leave it all behind for days on end?

Summer was a busy time. So was autumn. So were spring and winter. All year long, she had to worry about the weather and the crops and the animals.

But then… Oh yes, but then.

An elf wedding!

The phrase resonated within the deepest reaches of her heart. She had dreamed of such things when she was little, all the while certain she would never see one: The faeries dancing around, clothes more beautiful than anything she had ever seen, and music such as she had never heard. The bride and groom resplendent.

She had heard of such things in bedtime stories but had always assumed they were nothing more than that.

What’s more, she had never been away very long from either her hometown (now gone), or the farm where she currently lived. It seemed like a desperately long time since she had imagined going anywhere.

“I wonder… Is it really okay?” she murmured, as if it might be a genuinely bad thing.

“I will speak to your uncle.”

“…Okay.” Perhaps the blunt kindness in his tone was a response to her own vague mumbling.

That had to be it, she decided. I’m sure it is. I like that better.

She moved ever so slightly, so that their shadows stopped overlapping. So that only the hands of their silhouettes seemed to be intertwined as the dark figures stretched out over the red field.

“A marriage, huh…?”

They were almost back to the house.

It was a short distance to walk together. Enough to share what they thought. To share a few words…

“Do you ever think about that sort of thing?” “…”

He was silent for a moment. His usual behavior when he didn’t know the right thing to say.

“It is difficult.”

“Maybe so,” she murmured, spinning around on her heel. She started walking backward, hands clasped behind her. “In that case,” she continued, looking toward him, “what about…when we were little? You promised to marry me when we grew up.”

“…”

Cow Girl heard a slight sigh from inside the helmet. “I remember no such promise.”

“Oops… Saw right through me, huh?”

She laughed out loud, spinning around again as she did so, and kept walking.

Their shadows separated. Their shadows’ hands separated. Now… Yes, it was too late now.

But we should have made that promise.

Somehow the twilight sun found its way into her eyes, and she blinked rapidly.