Goblin Slayer - Volume 7 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Hearth Of Darkness

“Geez… It r-reeks of mold…,” High Elf Archer complained. The nest blended the odors of an ancient ruin with the rotten stench of a typical goblin habitat.

“W-well, it is an old building… Here, I’ll light a fire,” Priestess said. “Hup!” she grunted cutely, as she struck a flint and lit a torch.

They were smack in the middle of the fire-prevention ward the elves had placed on the structure, so the light was limited and weak. Still, it was enough for the entire party to see by. Priestess swept her eyes across the faces of her companions and then she let out a breath of relief.

The passageway on the other side of the gate was intensely claustrophobic. It wasn’t so small as to force them to crawl, but they weren’t going to be spreading out to establish a battle line, either. It might be just the right size for goblins, but as for everyone else…

“Ugh, I don’t like this!” High Elf Archer said. “A spike trap could wipe us all out at once.”

“I rather worry about my ability to continue onward at all,” Lizard Priest added.

“Yeah, chances are the dwarf gets stuck!”

Dwarf Shaman looked incensed but wisely didn’t give voice to his objection.

“Let’s go,” Goblin Slayer said curtly, and the party formed up and started walking.

High Elf Archer went in front, Goblin Slayer just behind her, followed by Lizard Priest: they were technically the front row. In back were Priestess, nervously clutching her staff, and Dwarf Shaman, at the tail of the formation.

The constricting passageway went deeper and ever deeper, bending gently left and right along the way. The booming echo they heard must have been the dammed-up water.

I hate narrow tunnels like this, Priestess thought. If goblins came from the front, they couldn’t run away. If they came from behind, the party would be equally trapped.

The fetid air. The clinging sense of dread. An odor she knew all too well from somewhere, sometime. Priestess hurriedly looked around, taken by the sense that if she didn’t pay close attention, she would lose track of where she was.

“At least we don’t have to worry about our footsteps,” High Elf Archer said lightly. Maybe that remark was part of why Priestess found herself breathing a sigh of relief. The air in the tunnel suddenly seemed to grow lighter.

“And it doesn’t look like we need to worry about them breaking out of a wall behind us,” Dwarf Shaman remarked.

“If there are no hidden doors,” Goblin Slayer said.

“And if they don’t find the corpses outside,” Lizard Priest added helpfully.

“Let’s keep going,” Priestess said in a trembling voice, swallowing audibly. “Carefully.”

“Yes. Especially considering that… What was it called…?”

“Mokele Mubenbe,” High Elf Archer chimed in as she measured her next footstep. “Right?”

“Yes, that,” Goblin Slayer continued, nodding. “Something managed to put a saddle on that. We can’t let down our guard.”

Lizard Priest gripped his Swordclaw tighter, looking around. “You think it was one of the little devils?”

“Would anyone entrust a dragon to goblins, besides a goblin?”

Dwarf Shaman ran his hand gently along the wall of the passageway. “I’ve known philistines, but goblins set a new low,” he said with a resigned shake of his head. “Look at this. There were these drawings right here, and they—”

The illustrations might have depicted the history of the ruins, or perhaps they were a warning to intruders. Whatever the drawings had once been, they were now daubed over and cracked by the antics of the goblins. It suggested the defacement was not a deliberate act of blasphemy on the goblins’ part. If they had really been servants of Chaos trying to desecrate the marks of Order, they would have done a more thorough job.

Instead, the scene was shattered here, painted over there, broken in another place, and left alone in still another…

“…Like children who got bored of a toy,” Priestess whispered, chilled. And well she should be: it was clear that this act of the destruction of someone else’s labors had been done for the sheer fun of it. Priestess knew all too well what that impulse looked like when it was turned upon living beings.

“…”

It might have been dread or anxiety that made her trembling right hand stiffen upon her sounding staff, while the left adjusted her hold on the torch. She repeated the name of the Earth Mother under her breath.

Perhaps that was why she was the first to notice it when it came blowing on the breeze through the ruins, mixed with the sound of water.

“A voice…?” she said suddenly, stopping.

“What’s wrong?” Goblin Slayer asked when he noticed. That fact alone brought Priestess a measure of relief. It was a reminder that he was looking out for her. That all of them were.

She realized she was unconsciously comparing the party to them and looked down, abashed.

“I just… There was a voice…” “You heard a voice?”

“From up ahead, I think…”

Goblin Slayer met her uncertain words with a grunt. “Hmm. What do you think?”

“Well, hold on a second. I’ve been totally focused on this floor…” High Elf Archer looked up, her ears now standing straight, straining to pick up any sound.

Fwip, fwip. They fluttered gently.

“…Yeah, I hear it, too. A person’s voice. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.”

“So there’s something alive down here besides goblins,” Dwarf Shaman said, frowning in surprise. “I suppose we should be happy, but it’ll add to our troubles to rescue them.”

“There’s no guarantee it is a prisoner,” Lizard Priest added, rolling his eyes and touching the tip of his nose with his tongue.

“But if there is a captive down here…” Priestess raised the torch as high as she could, as if using it to wave away fear and indecision. “Then we…we have to help them…!”

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer replied without a moment’s hesitation. He double- checked his shield in his left hand, then turned his right wrist once and adjusted his hold on his sword. “It doesn’t change what we must do. Let’s go.”

Shortly after, the party arrived at a spiral staircase that stretched from the very bottom to the very top of the ruins. Countless tunnels spiderwebbed away from it in every direction.

The echoing voice could be heard from down below—far, far below, as if sounding from the depths of hell.

§

“…Smells like a goblin nest, all right.”

The party decided to work its way down the stairwell, following the lead of High Elf Archer’s senses.

The staircase hugged the stone wall, winding down into the depths. The steps were narrow, and there was no railing. Each of them placed a hand on the wall and proceeded slowly, oh so slowly.

“Rather like an anthill, isn’t it,” Lizard Priest said, observing the many tunnels that led deeper into the fortress.

“Mmm, they make pretty good towers, don’t they?” Dwarf Shaman replied.

The levees and the riverside fortifications had been withstanding battles for at least an eon. They would shortly be attempting to bring it all down with just five adventurers. One could hardly blame them for feeling a little tense.

“Eep!” Priestess squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the wall as a sudden gust whipped through the atrium. The strength of the wind was bad enough, but it brought a rank stench that hinted at evil things ahead.

“M-maybe we should tie a lifeline to ourselves so—”

“No,” Goblin Slayer said, brusquely rejecting Priestess’s idea. “We are in single file. We don’t know if goblins may come from in front or behind.”

“Yes, it could only be dangerous to restrict our own movements further.” Lizard Priest, making up the rear of the formation, rolled his eyes in his head and slapped the ground with his tail. “But never fear; if you should fall, just grab on to my tail and keep going.”

“I’d really rather not fall, but… Right, I’ll do my best.” Priestess nodded, making sure she was holding her staff and the torch tightly so as not to drop them.

At that moment, High Elf Archer’s ears twitched. “Goblins?”

“What else could it be?” The whole party stopped dead behind her and readied their weapons. “We’ve got a light. They’ll notice us when we get close.”

“We can’t let him get away alive.” “Goblin Slayer, sir, what should we do?”

“Whether there’s a captive down there or not, we must get to the bottom of this staircase,” Goblin Slayer said darkly. “And then, we must come back up.”

“You know what they say about labyrinths,” Dwarf Shaman chimed in, adopting a singsong tone: “Going in is easy done, but getting out is never fun.”

“Mm,” Lizard Priest rumbled, nodding.

“We won’t be able to avoid combat,” Priestess said, “and if we’re discovered—”

—what would happen then?

The blood drained from her cheeks, and she suddenly felt her footing become unsteady.

Torn clothes. Fighter’s screaming. Shouting voices. The awful sight of the captured elf. The women on skewers.

All of these memories flashed through her mind, quickening her breath.

She felt her teeth chattering.

She fought to keep them still and to steady her breathing. She forced her legs, which threatened to go out from under her, to remain upright.

“…I’ll try requesting Silence again.”

She would use another of her precious miracles. Goblin Slayer did some quick mental calculations.

“If all goes well, we may be able to rest when we reach the bottom,” Dwarf Shaman said as he reached into his bag of catalysts, looking vigilantly down the seemingly never-ending stairs. “This place has got to be too big to patrol everywhere at once, even for goblins.”

“How many would you say we are dealing with, milord Goblin Slayer, based on what they have stolen?”

“They even have wolves,” Goblin Slayer replied. “There’s no doubt they’re operating on a massive scale.”

“Still, surely not enough t’maintain this entire fortification.” “Most likely.”

“Well, that settles it.” High Elf Archer smiled brightly, reaching out to pat Priestess on the shoulder. “You’re up!”

“Right!” Priestess nodded and bit her lip. She knew what would happen if they didn’t do this. She gave her head a vigorous shake, sending the memories flying like the hair around her head. Then she took a deep breath.

She put both hands on her staff, connecting her soul to the Earth Mother who dwelt on high.

“What about the corpse?” Lizard Priest inquired.

“Drop it,” Goblin Slayer replied immediately, ruthlessly. “There would be nothing unusual about a goblin falling from these stairs.”

“Here I go!” Priestess held her staff, relaxing into the warmth of the torch as she offered up the words of her prayer. “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant us peace to accept all things.”

Then all sound ceased.

The goblin emerging from the corridor went wide-eyed at the adventuring party that approached with nothing but the light of a torch.

High Elf Archer’s arrow pierced his throat before he could call out to his companions. He windmilled his arms as if swimming through the air as he toppled forward; Goblin Slayer gave him a solid kick.

The goblin fell, disappearing into the endless, deep blackness.

As they continued down the stairs, High Elf Archer swiveled her ears. It was hard to be certain what she was hearing. She kept her eyes peeled, trying to spot any goblins that might be coming their way.

There.

She quickly held up three fingers on one hand before drawing an arrow from her quiver, pulling back the bow, and firing.

The bolt flew silently, catching the spear-wielding sentry square in the eye and lodging in his helmet. He spun and toppled from the staircase.

His fellow guard pointed and laughed then cocked his head in surprise at the fact that his voice made no sound. High Elf Archer rushed past him, while just behind her, Goblin Slayer cracked the creature’s skull as if he were splitting wood.

The head broke open and brains spilled out. Goblin Slayer sent the second goblin tumbling into the abyss then continued forward.

The third goblin, although flabbergasted at these sudden developments, nonetheless steadied the spear in his hand.

He was faced with a dwarf and a human girl. It only took him an instant to focus on the girl, but he found his path blocked by the palm of the dwarf’s hand. Before he knew what was happening, there was a handful of dust in his eyes, and an instant later, Lizard Priest’s tail had swept his feet out from under him.

All that was left was the drop.

The corkscrew-shaped tunnel continued on and on. One could feel faint contemplating its scale.

All sound had vanished, and the only thing they could see was the light they carried. They smelled only bubbling water and their own sweat.

Priestess wobbled, attacked by a spell of dizziness. Even as she registered what was happening, she found her unsteady body wrapped in Lizard Priest’s supportive tail.

She gave a hurried look back. The lizardman rolled his eyes in his head and touched his tongue to his nose. He seemed to be saying, Don’t worry about it.

Priestess shook her head, then she faced forward again with the torch and her staff well in hand and began diligently following the back in front of her. Dwarf Shaman had kindly slowed down for her. Goblin Slayer and High Elf Archer remained as vigilant as ever.

I have to keep praying…!

She made a couple of sharp exhalations as she forced all irrelevant thought from her mind and continued offering her supplication to the Earth Mother.

She was just standing behind her companions, praying. She started to doubt if it was really helpful.

But doubt led to death at times like this. And she would not let it overcome her prayer to the gods.

Everyone is here, and I’m with everyone. They protect me, and I protect them.

She took another deep breath.

Even in these dark depths, she had friends beside her, and her soul was in touch with the Earth Mother who abided in heaven.

Surely there was nothing to fear.

§

Bob, bob. Five or six goblin corpses drifted on the surface of the water.

At the bottom of the vast span was a channel of water. Was it the Silence miracle, or sheer distance, that prevented the adventurers from hearing any sound as the goblins struck the surface?

Dammed up and then stored up, what remained of the river water continued to course downstream.

“Perhaps the little devils think to poison the water,” Lizard Priest whispered when sound resumed in the world. Considering they had dammed up the river, that would be the natural next step. Downstream lay not only the elf village, but also the water town.

“Goblins being goblins, their leader might be planning something,” Dwarf Shaman agreed.

“What’s the use, thinking about what goblins think all the time?” High Elf Archer said, frowning in frustration. She gave Goblin Slayer’s helmet a couple of good raps. “You’ll end up like him.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion y’could stand to think a little harder yourself,” Dwarf Shaman said. “This is about your home, after all,” he added softly, provoking an angry “Come again?!” from the elf. They managed to keep their voices low enough that Lizard Priest didn’t feel compelled to intervene.

Goblin Slayer, completely unmoved, pulled a waterskin from his item pouch and uncorked it. He took several swigs through his visor then offered it to Priestess where she crouched nearby. She took it vacantly, her face pale as she desperately tried to collect herself.

“Drink.”

“Uh, r-right, thanks…”

“No,” Goblin Slayer said, shaking his head. “You helped us.”

Priestess held the waterskin in both hands, bringing it to her lips with just a hint of embarrassment. She had the slightest, shiest smile on her face. She wasn’t so tense now, and that wasn’t a bad thing.

They had gotten over one hurdle. One thing at a time.

She drank noisily, two mouthfuls, three. Then she let out a satisfied breath and put the stopper back in the waterskin.

“Thank you very much,” she said, handing it back; he took it silently and returned it to his pouch.

Goblin Slayer used his hatchet to pull one of the bobbing corpses closer, taking the sword from its belt. He put the blade into his own scabbard, put the hatchet in the goblin’s belt instead, and then kicked it away again.

“The voice has stopped,” he murmured.

High Elf Archer’s ears flicked. “Yeah.” She nodded. “I wasn’t sure one way or the other on the way down, but now I feel like I don’t hear it anymore.”

“We were too late.”

High Elf Archer, catching his meaning, frowned. She quickly checked the state of her bowstring, retied it, then made sure she had some arrows as she got to her feet. “…That’s no excuse to dawdle, is it?”

“Indeed, even so,” Lizard Priest agreed, giving his Swordclaw a flourish. “We have come here for battle, and our foe quails before us. We have no reason not to press our advantage.”

He held out a bumpy, scaled hand to Priestess.

“I’m all right,” she said with a brief smile then hefted herself to her feet, supporting herself with her staff. “Oh, the torch…”

“…Mm,” Goblin Slayer said, finally turning his head slowly from side to side. “I’ll let you handle it.”

Priestess secretly let out a sigh to see him once again striding boldly at the head of their line. But shortly thereafter, registering that she had been left in charge of their light, she nodded resolutely.

“Hold this for a moment, please,” she said, passing the torch to Dwarf Shaman. Then she took a lantern out of her luggage and transferred the flame to it.

“Well, aren’t you well prepared!”

“A lantern is a must on an adventure,” she replied, puffing out her chest with just a hint of pride.

The Adventurer’s Toolkit was a package that didn’t always come in as handy as it looked like it would, but this time it was proving its worth. She closed the shutter to avoid letting out more light than was necessary then tossed the torch in the river with a little “Yah!” There was a hiss and some white smoke, and then the torch was no more.

“…Okay, let’s go.”

The rest of the party nodded, and then they followed after Goblin Slayer, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

Thankfully, the sound of the river helped to cover them.

Goblin Slayer spoke softly to High Elf Archer in the murk. “How is it in front?”

“They’re there.” She dropped her hips like a hare about to run, but she kept moving quickly forward. “There seems to be some kind of…big millstone or mortar? Along with five…maybe six of them, enjoying themselves.”

“No spells,” Goblin Slayer said, shifting his sword in his right hand. “We’ll take care of them.”

“But…” Lizard Priest licked his nose with his tongue. “How do you mean to attack?”

“Silence again?” High Elf Archer offered, adding to herself I’d be okay with that as she drew an arrow.

Goblin Slayer glanced at Priestess, whose face was bloodless, and shook his head. “We will do something else.”

“I’m f-fine…!”

“I do not want to use the same tactic twice in a row,” he said, reaching into his bag. “Do we have any glue?”

“Right ’ere. Bunches of it. Hang on a second,” Dwarf Shaman said, digging into his own bag of catalysts. At length, he nodded and produced several small, sealed bottles.

“Good,” Goblin Slayer said immediately. “Everyone, give me your socks.”

Priestess pressed a hand to her thigh, suddenly red-faced; High Elf Archer just looked confused. “What do you want with those?” she asked.

“I will use them.”

Lizard Priest nodded somberly. “Do you want mine as well?” “If you have any.”

§

The goblin had finished his work and was in high spirits. He’d not often been drunk, but he had the feeling that this was what it felt like.

Stolen alcohol all too rarely made it to him—the bottles had always been drunk dry long before they reached this far down. He had some doubts about whether the boys upstairs were portioning the goods out fairly, but that was goblins for you. They never thought about their other comrades, who would come after them, but each took a little extra for himself, and before you knew it, it was all gone.

But this magnanimous underground goblin would forgive them.

Not because he knew he would have done the same thing if he were on one of the higher floors—nothing so reasonable. He was content to be enraged at the thoughtless bastards up above, quite irrespective of the fact that he would have behaved just like them.

No, the reason he felt so lenient was because working on the lowest floor had its own benefits.

With a casual gesture, the goblin adjusted the decoration hanging from a chain around his neck. Then he sat heavily in a circle of his fellows and reached for the food at the center.

He popped a finger off the rotting arm and tossed it into his mouth. He chewed then took a breath.

Working down here is the worst, he said, trying to sound good even as he complained.

There was a chorus of agreement from the others, then somebody tore off a leg from the meal.

Somebody else, unable to let this pass, raised a fuss and tried to take the leg, until it was finally torn in two, and the aggrieved party had some for himself.

As they chewed their meat, the goblins whined that the higher-ups didn’t understand.

One of them plucked a lovely amber-colored eyeball from the meal, commented, They sure as hell don’t, then swallowed it.

The goblins’ complaints got louder and louder, but of course, the work they were asked to do was not all that demanding. It was simply the way of goblins to be convinced that others had it easier than they did.

After a lazy meal, the goblins hefted themselves to their feet. They collectively agreed that a rhea didn’t make as good a meal as an elf, and an elf wasn’t as tasty as a human.

Now their stomachs were good and full, and it seemed to them that there was nothing else to do but have a little nap until more work needed to be done.

The goblin gave a great yawn, when— “—?”

Well, now.

What was this rolling up to his feet? An extinguished torch? What the hell? The goblin looked stupidly at it.

“?!”

A second later, something heavy and wet struck him in the face. He tried to cry out, but another one hit him, this time in the mouth.

He reached up to peel it off, but his hand stuck to it, and he couldn’t get free.

“GROBB!!”

“GRB! GBBOROB!!”

As he tumbled to the ground, the other goblins pointed and laughed at him. They had similarly ridiculed the goblins who’d come plummeting from the staircase earlier that day.

“GBOROB?!”

This time, the things smacked the laughing goblins. Two more of them were clawing at their faces, writhing in pain. Three in total.

The other two finally realized that this was not the time for mirth and drew their stolen swords.

One of them put something that looked like an alarm whistle to his lips— “One.”

—and promptly found his throat pierced by a dagger that came flying from the dark. Blood gushed from the wound with a sound not unlike a whistle.

“GOBBRB?!”

Cutting through the sound came an adventurer in grimy armor, rushing at them from downriver. In his right hand was a sword. In his left, a shield. The goblin’s eyes were wide. Adventurer! Hate! This was him!

“GBRO! GGBORROB!!”

He forgot all thought of either calling his comrades or helping them but, instead, shuffled in to fight. His sword was a well-honed thing he’d just recently stolen from an adventurer. It was no rusty knife.

“Hmph.”

Goblin Slayer, however, caught the blow easily on his shield. Beat it back, in fact. He caught the monster’s overeager swing, which lodged in his shield; he backed up then made a sweep.

“GOBBR?!”

The goblin lost his footing and fell heavily then got unsteadily back to his feet.

Immediately after that, he was aware of a thump. And then the goblin stopped breathing, without ever knowing why.

He would never have imagined it was because a bud-tipped arrow had lodged itself in the back of his head anyway.

He tumbled forward, his lifeless eyes no longer perceiving what was happening to his companions.

“GOBB… GRB?!”

“GROBBR?!”

The other goblins, having finally peeled the sticky globs away from their faces and mouths, could hardly speak.

An instant later, Lizard Priest’s Swordclaw cleaved torso from legs, and Goblin Slayer pierced a throat.

Dispatching five goblins had taken only ten or twenty seconds. That was experience for you.

“Three… And four, and five.” Goblin Slayer counted up the corpses then turned back to the darkness. “That was an impressive hit.”

“I’ve been practicing.” Priestess pattered out of the dark, holding her sounding staff. A shy expression came over her face at Goblin Slayer’s simple praise. Yes, the creature had been distracted by the torch, but she had hit him fair and square, the result of her own hard work.

She picked up the prepared sock the goblin had torn off its face and thrown aside. “…Ugh. I guess I can’t use this anymore…,” she said disappointedly. There was blood and drool and snot all over it. She could put it through the wash three times and still not want to wear it again.

“Put rocks in our socks, cover them with glue, and then throw them at the goblins?” High Elf Archer, who had also supplied her footwear for the cause, was retrieving her arrow from one of the corpses. “I swear, you have the imagination of a mischievous little boy.”

“But it worked,” Goblin Slayer said shortly, turning toward the half-eaten body.

It was such a mass of gore that it was impossible even to tell what gender it had been, until he picked up a blue-colored status tag from the mess. It was a man.

“Wonder if he had a family,” Dwarf Shaman said, glancing over and taking the bloodstained chip of sapphire. “Or a party… Doubt he was solo.”

“Most likely,” Goblin Slayer said, turning his head and casting his eye over the tools the goblins had used for their “work.”

High Elf Archer poked at one of them with a what’s this look, before she realized what she was seeing and jumped back. “Eek?!”

It was a millstone—or more accurately, a press. Turning a round handle caused the device to move, applying pressure to whatever was inside it. It was the sort of thing that might be used to get oil from olives, or juice from grapes. So what had the goblins been pressing with it?

The answer was immediately apparent.

“Ergh… Ah…!” Priestess made little gasping sounds and nearly dropped her staff.

In the crevices of the machine could be seen slim hands and feet, still twitching with the last vestiges of life. They belonged to a young woman whose glassy eyes were staring skyward, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. This made frightfully clear what the goblins had been attempting to press, and how. As a mode of torture, it was crude. As a means of execution, it was beyond sadistic.

No.

Priestess quickly grasped what it all signified. The pile of battered female armor in the corner.

The polished short sword Goblin Slayer had collected from the goblin.

The sapphire level tag that had been hanging from the neck of one of the corpses.

The muscles in the arm that now hung limp.

All of it showed that the young woman had been an adventurer.

And led to one inescapable conclusion: the goblins had been doing this simply for fun.

“…”

It was a nauseating scene, but although pale, Priestess gulped the bitter fluid back down.

Maybe—unfortunately—she had gotten used to this sort of thing. Maybe it was just something she had to get used to. She didn’t know.

As she crouched, praying to the Earth Mother, a thick, sticky liquid plopped against the ground, spoiling her white boots.

The blackish-red substance the goblins had been squeezing out with their device dribbled into a gutter along the floor and, from there, into the river.

“Hmm,” Lizard Priest said, rolling his eyes. “If they are putting this into the river, mightn’t it be some kind of poison?”

“It very well may.” Goblin Slayer crouched and scooped up a small sample of the sticky stuff, rubbing it between his fingers. Though it was only a tiny drop in the massive river, it was probably enough to be fatal to an individual. “It’s like they were thinking ‘you’ve all been drinking, living, and bathing with water full of the blood and excrement of your fellows.’”

“Hrr—ghh…” High Elf Archer immediately retched. Priestess was quick to offer her the waterskin, but she replied, “No thanks.”

“I suppose, then, that we should consider this a form of curse,” Lizard Priest said.

“So you think so, too?” Goblin Slayer breathed. “That…thing…” “Mokele Mubenbe, you mean?”

“Yes, that.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “This must mean that the one who captured it was some kind of spell caster.”

“And a goblin…” Priestess shivered.

A dark cave. Collapsed women. And a goblin shaman jabbering upon his throne.

All of it matched up with memories burned into her mind. She gripped her staff tighter.

“…shaman?”

“Whoever it is, he’s nothing to sneeze at,” Dwarf Shaman muttered, regarding Goblin Slayer and Lizard Priest. “I’m surprised you’re both so calm…”

“It is not the way of my people to keep a captive alive for our pleasure, but killing is our vocation.” Lizard Priest shook his head slowly from side to side, almost contemplatively. “It is considered proper custom to split open the guts of a superlative warrior and eat their heart.”

“Me, I think it’ll be a couple of days before I want meat again,” Dwarf Shaman groaned.

“That’s dwarves for you,” High Elf Archer said with a brave laugh.

Goblin Slayer looked at Dwarf Shaman and nodded. Then he walked over to Priestess with his typical bold stride and looked down at her.

“Goblin Slayer, sir, uh…”

“We will stop here,” he said slowly. “When she has been buried, we will rest.”

§

They ultimately decided to give the crushed, smashed corpse of the adventurer a burial at sea.

They wrapped the body in a cloth to hide its wounds then set it afloat in the canal leading to the river.

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

Priestess’s prayer saw the woman’s soul to heaven, and Lizard Priest’s invocation ensured that she could rejoin the cycle of life.

They didn’t expect any patrols to come looking down here at the bottom of the tower (goblins being lazy as they were), so the party found the cleanest spot they could, spread out some blankets, and went to sleep.

Sleep… They would be lucky to get a few hours at most. It might not really restore much of their strength. What was important, though, was that their spell casters would regain the spiritual energy they had expended.

“……” Goblin Slayer leaned against the wall of the torture room, hugging the sword he’d taken. He didn’t want to light a fire, partly because of the elven wards on this place, but mostly because he didn’t want the smoke to alert anyone to their presence. Instead, the party took what rest they could gathered around the lantern, its shutters closed to keep the light at a minimum.

Lizard Priest sat in the lotus posture, his hands formed into mudras and his eyes closed, as if meditating. Dwarf Shaman had taken a few good swigs of wine then flopped over, rested his head on his hands, and was soon snoring lustily.

Then there was Priestess, her small blanket-clad body huddled in a corner.

Even from this distance, her face looked bloodless and pale. “…Why aren’t you asleep?” a voice asked him suddenly. “I am resting,” Goblin Slayer replied casually.

It was High Elf Archer, back from her shift on guard duty, standing in front of him and looking irritated.

Goblin Slayer lifted his helmet slowly, looking up at her. “With one eye open.”

“Hey, I can’t see how many eyes you’ve got in there,” she replied in annoyance. She put her hands on her hips and snorted, her long ears twitching, then sat down heavily next to him. It was such a natural movement; she didn’t look to Goblin Slayer for any kind of permission.

“She didn’t look very happy, huh?” High Elf Archer loosened the string on her bow then industriously started retying it.

“I imagine,” Goblin Slayer said from beside her. “If we only consider our actions, we are exactly like the goblins.”

He was referring strictly to having given the bodies of their companions over to the river.

They had been too late—whether it was by minutes, hours, or days. Otherwise, perhaps one or two of the captured adventurers might still have been alive.

Never, at no time, could this have turned out like what had happened at that temple, with those nuns.

“They perished, and we threw them in the river. It’s the same,” Goblin Slayer concluded curtly.

High Elf Archer bit her lip for a moment, not quite able to speak, then shook her head in disagreement. “…It’s not the same.”

Goblin Slayer gave a quiet, annoyed grunt.

“We aren’t like the goblins. And if you say we are again, I’m gonna get mad.” She glared at him from lidded eyes.

“I might even kick you,” she muttered, and she sounded serious.

Goblin Slayer remembered the time, in some ruins somewhere, when she had given him a serious kick. It had been about a year before. He even felt a certain nostalgia for it.

But how much time was that for an elf?

“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Then he heaved a deep sigh. “…You are right.”

“You better believe I am.”

With that, the two of them stopped talking. The idyllic gurgle of running water sounded out of place. But every once in a while, there would come the cackling of goblins from upstairs, reminding them of where they really were.

High Elf Archer’s ears fluttered. Goblin Slayer glanced over at her, but she shook her head as if to say it was nothing.

“I see,” Goblin Slayer breathed then lapsed once more into silence. “Hmm?” High Elf Archer said, tilting her head, but his helmet barely moved as he spoke just two words in response. “I’m sorry.”

High Elf Archer found herself blinking.

Did Orcbolg just…apologize?

It was an unusual occurrence. To hide the sudden smile threatening to take over her face, she produced a studied frown and asked brusquely, “…For what?”

“…In the end, I brought up goblins again.”

Dummy. High Elf Archer giggled. Like the rushing water, it seemed like a sound too sweet for this place.

“Whaaat? Is that what was bothering you?” There was no answer.

They had only known each other for a year and change, but that was plenty of time in which to get to know someone.

I hit the nail on the head.

High Elf Archer laughed with a sound like a ringing bell then set her great bow gently on the floor beside her. She hugged her knees to her chest and then rested her head on Goblin Slayer’s shoulder.

“You know me… I’m not a big fan of goblin slaying.” That simply made sense.

Back before she’d met Orcbolg, even back when she’d been just a Porcelain, she had never gone on a goblin-hunting quest. But the number of such jobs she had undertaken had increased dramatically since she started working with him.

She didn’t have any problem with exploring caves. And fighting monsters was all well and good. Rescuing captives, that was great, too.

But this is just different.

Facing goblins with Orcbolg somehow wasn’t the same as other adventures. There was no sense of accomplishment. High Elf Archer could hardly even bring herself to call them adventures.

But still.

“My home is at stake.”

It was perfectly obvious, but she voiced the thought anyway. She felt more than saw Goblin Slayer’s helmet shift.

High Elf Archer closed her eyes for a moment. The smell of oil and blood.

It truly was a terrible stench.

“I’d hate for my sister to get married with goblins lolling around nearby.” “…I see.”

“Normally, I’d be the one doing all the complaining… Hey, I mean, not that I’m really upset or anything.”

“No,” Goblin Slayer said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t bother me.” “No?” High Elf Archer cocked her head in surprise. Her ears fluttered.

“No,” Goblin Slayer repeated shortly. “Because I don’t know how to go about having an adventure.”

“Huh,” High Elf Archer whispered, and Goblin Slayer breathed back, “It’s true.”

“Okay, well,” High Elf Archer started, sounding almost as if she were singing. “How about we say we’re square?” She held up a pointer finger and moved it in a circle in the air.

“I think—” Goblin Slayer was about to answer, but then he hesitated. He never quite found the words he wanted, and finally, his answer was as dispassionate as ever. “That’s fine.”

“Great!” High Elf Archer sprang to her feet. She gave a huge yawn, like a cat, gently stretching her lithe body. She let out a long breath then asked, “So what do we do next?”

Goblin Slayer replied immediately, “We set a trap then head up.” “A trap?” Her eyes glittered, and her ears waved.

“You’ll understand very soon.” Goblin Slayer made it sound like it would be incredibly bothersome. High Elf Archer just snorted. Fine, then.

“But…now we’re going back up?”

“We are dealing with goblins who have set themselves up in this building.

I have a fair idea of what they must be thinking.” “—?”

“The most important of them will base himself either on the highest or the lowest level.”

“Ahh.”

Now it made sense. High Elf Archer nodded, smiling. The worst villains liked the tallest places.

“The only problem is that…thing.”

“Mokele Mubenbe?” High Elf Archer sighed again. “I can’t believe you haven’t remembered its name by now.”

“…Whoever is capable of controlling that beast is probably a spell caster.”

“A spell caster… Hmm.”

High Elf Archer crossed her arms, looking very High Elf Archer-ish, but she quickly abandoned contemplation. Thinking about it now wouldn’t get them any answers. They could think about it when the time came.

Anyway, it can be a goblin shaman or a goblin whatever, I’m still just gonna shoot it.

“Won’t we just figure it out when we get there?”

“That won’t do,” Goblin Slayer said with a decisive shake of his head. High Elf Archer shook her own head, as if to say, You’re hopeless. “Yes, it will. But you’re our only front row specialist. Right now, the most important thing is for you to get some sleep, Orcbolg.”

“…Yes.”

“With both eyes closed.” “…I will try.”

“I’ll wake you up in a bit.” “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, otherwise I won’t get to sleep.” “All right.”

High Elf Archer gave him a reassuring wave of her hand then grabbed her bow in her fingers. She bounded easily from one of the sleepers to the next, to check on them, then finally sat down in a spot of her own in one corner of the room.

Beside her was Priestess, wrapped up in her blanket. High Elf Archer gave her a gentle pat. The blanket shifted, then shook, then fell still again.

You could pull the covers up as far as you wanted, but you couldn’t hide how you were feeling from the senses of an elf.

§

“Man, why couldn’t the ancients have installed an elevator?”

Several hours later, after taking care of a few details, the party had begun climbing the staircase.

High Elf Archer had good reason to complain. They had just come down these stairs the day before, and now they were being forced to hike up them again. The change in direction was cold comfort.

“C-careful not to talk so loud…!”

Someone will hear you. Priestess’s concern was equally natural, and with nowhere to run, if any goblins appeared, they would be forced to fight.

The party hadn’t changed their formation since before breaking to rest (when—yesterday? Her sense of time was fuzzy), but still…

“Well,” Dwarf Shaman said, “it’s a big fortress. There might be one if we look.” He was breathing heavily. It seemed his small frame made the climb most difficult of all for him. He took the jug of wine from his belt and unstoppered it, taking a few swigs and then wiping some droplets from his beard. “But after all the work I’ve just done, yours truly has no interest in scrounging around for an elevator.”

“As well, it may require some key to activate. One with a blue strap, for instance.”

“Aarrgh…!” High Elf Archer cried, flapping her ears angrily. Lizard Priest’s calm remark made three voices against her. “Orcbolg, say something!”

“If we found one, we would use it, but we have no time to search.”

No help there. High Elf Archer, abandoned, simply harrumphed and kept walking up the stairs.

Each and every one of them was totally vigilant. Even Priestess, watching her staff uneasily, kept an eye on their surroundings. She kept throwing little glances behind herself—no doubt a product of her worst memories.

They might come from behind.

They might break through the wall when you least expected it.

Were there any hidden doors? They hadn’t missed any, had they? “Oops…,” High Elf Archer said, and Priestess shivered.

“Wh— What’s wrong?” “The stairs are missing.”

“Oh…” She could see that High Elf Archer was right. Just ahead of them, the spiral of stairs was interrupted by several broken steps.

They could conceivably jump the gap—but only if they didn’t think for a second about what would happen should they fall. They could hear water echoing up from far, far below.

If they could catch themselves on the next stairs down, that would be one thing, but if not, the drop would surely kill them. If they were lucky, it would do so instantaneously. But if not, they might simply break their legs and have to lie there, waiting to die. Either way, it would be the end of their adventure.

Did the goblins go around this gap somehow, or were the rash tests continuing?

“I don’t see any guards,” Goblin Slayer murmured. “If it were still noon, I would understand, but I don’t like this.”

“I think the bigger problem is what to do about this staircase,” High Elf Archer said, frowning. She stuck up her thumb, trying to eyeball the distance. “I could jump that gap, but I don’t think all of us could. Such as the dwarf, the dwarf, or the dwarf.”

“Listen, you…”

That was about as far as Dwarf Shaman’s response went, though. High Elf Archer crossed her arms and made a thoughtful sound. “Maybe we could string a rope from one side to the other,” she said. “We could take the long way around, but we don’t have time, do we?”

“That’s perfect,” Priestess said, nodding. “I’ll get some out!” She dug through her bag, quickly producing a grappling hook. The Adventurer’s Toolkit. She was very pleased that the set, which she had bought “just in case,” was coming in handy. What was more, the greatest comfort of all to her was to know she was making herself useful to the party.

“Do you think this will reach?” she asked. “Try it,” Goblin Slayer said.

Answering “Right,” High Elf Archer grabbed the rope and took a light- footed leap. Her agility could have been matched only by a select number of padfoots or dark elves.

She landed on the far side of the gap with a movement reminiscent of a leaping deer, muttering “Whoop” as she carefully maintained her balance. “You just need me to set this, right?”

“Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded and picked up the rope on his side. “So we are to tie this to our belts and jump…?”

“If I miss the other side, I’m gonna have t’use a spell,” Dwarf Shaman said, looking into the pit with a disturbed expression. “Much as I hate to have to do it, in light of our strategic needs… What about you, Scaly?”

“Ahh, so long as there are handholds and footholds on the walls, I shall muddle through.” Lizard Priest displayed the sharp claws on his hands and feet, twirling his fingers deliberately. “I should rather worry, master spell caster, about our lady Priestess jumping across. Perhaps it would be best if I carried her.”

“One at a time, then,” Goblin Slayer said. “Will you be all right?”

“Oh yes!” Priestess was the first to take the proffered rope. With a grunt, she tied it carefully and tightly around her narrow hips, then she wedged her sounding staff between the rope and the small of her back so she wouldn’t drop it.

“O-okay, please don’t d-drop me…!” “Mm. You’re quite light. Here, now…”

Lizard Priest, with Priestess clinging to his back, dug his claws into the rock wall and hefted himself bodily up.

“Eep?!”

“Hold tight, now. O Velociraptor, see my deeds!”

What happened next was indeed something to behold. Working the claws of his hands and feet into the cracks among the stones, Lizard Priest began to crawl deftly across the gap.

As impressive as he was, however, he was not quick; if there had been an archer waiting somewhere on the spiral staircase, he would have made an excellent target. Goblin Slayer and High Elf Archer both looked deep into the darkness, keeping their eyes open for just such a threat.

When they arrived on the far side a moment later, Priestess gave Lizard Priest a respectful nod. “S-sorry for the trouble. And thank you…”

“No need to thank me. Indeed, I believe you could do with a little extra meat on your bones.”

“I-I’ll try…,” she said, slightly embarrassed. Lizard Priest grinned confirmation, then he took the rope from her and made the return trip. Next, he came carrying Dwarf Shaman, and after he was satisfied they had all made it across, Goblin Slayer jumped the gap. In his full armor and chain mail, he was without a doubt carrying the most weight among them, but he made it with room to spare.

Still, when he wobbled upon landing, Priestess was quick to put a hand on his arm to steady him. “A-are you okay?”

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer said with a nod then added a moment later, “I’m fine.”

“Man, I wish I coulda gotten carried across,” High Elf Archer piped up. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Well, perhaps there will yet be another chance,” Lizard

Priest chortled.

“I’m gonna hold you to that!” High Elf Archer said, but then she suddenly stopped. “Hey, look, there it is! There’s an elevator!”

“Hmm,” Goblin Slayer said with considerable interest as he shuffled over to inspect the device.

It had a pair of double doors that rolled back into the walls, with what appeared to be a control panel just beside them. Just the sort of thing, he realized, that one often found in ruins like this.

“Have the goblins been using it?” he wondered aloud.

“Good question,” Dwarf Shaman said. “Can’t say for certain…”

“It does appear to be in working order. But… Hmm, what’s this?” Lizard Priest, probing the control panel with a clawed finger, discovered a keypad. It contained squares with numbers in them, apparently waiting to be pressed. “So it functions not with a key, but a code.”

“Ah!” Priestess, seeing the pad, clapped her hands and began rifling through her luggage.

She came up with the key she had taken from the goblin at the entrance to the fort. It was a gold plate with numbers carved on it and a rope like a necklace.

“How about this? At first, I thought maybe the keys were individually numbered, but…”

“Yeah, goblins would never do bookkeeping like that,” High Elf Archer said with a shrug, and Goblin Slayer agreed. So there was no question now.

“Try it.”

“Yes, sir!” Holding the gold chip, Priestess carefully entered the three digits on the keypad.

They felt the slightest shiver as something deep and far away groaned, then finally, there was a screech as the machine came to a stop.

The elevator doors opened silently.

“Looks like I had the right idea,” Priestess said, brushing a hand across her small chest with a sigh of relief.

The inside of the elevator was a stone box, just like the outside. It wasn’t obvious whether the elevator moved magically or mechanically, but…

“At the very least, there is nothing here so simple that the goblins can operate it,” Goblin Slayer replied, looking around the interior and using his sword like a pole to poke and prod. “However, I have seen them use buckets in wells.”

“That’s enough to give me the shivers.” Stop it already. High Elf Archer waved her hand. She didn’t want to imagine the possibility of the device being cut loose while they were riding on it, sending them plummeting to the bottom.

“…Let’s go,” Priestess urged, decision in her tone, clutching her staff. This in spite of the touch of pallor in her face, an unmistakable tightness in her expression, and the slightest of trembling in her hands. “We have to… stop the goblins…”

That was a declaration that got an immediate response from Goblin Slayer. “Yes.”

Priestess’s expression softened ever so slightly. Goblin Slayer looked around at his party.

High Elf Archer was puffing out her modest chest as if to say that of course she was ready.

Dwarf Shaman was searching through his catalysts nonchalantly.

Lizard Priest made a strange palms-together gesture with his hands and rolled his eyes.

Goblin Slayer searched each face then checked his own shield, armor, helmet, and sword.

No problems.

Their plan was in place.

There was only one thing to do. “We will kill all the goblins.”

The adventurers all nodded at one another then climbed into the elevator.

“I’m assuming this thing goes up,” High Elf Archer said, “but this could get ugly real fast.”

“It could.” Goblin Slayer nodded.

The edges of the elf’s lips turned up, and she murmured sarcastically, “Hell, it’s hell… Yeah, sure.”

Then the doors slid soundlessly shut.