Goblin Slayer - Volume 8 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – The Pulse Of Demonbirth

It looks like a pool of blood. 

That was Priestess’s first impression. 

The top of the mountain stabbed up into the sky, the dawn light running like blood along the ridge. 

And there, below, dark as a patch of dried gore, loomed the fortress, spreading through the shadows. 

It was a fortress city where adventurers had gathered, built by some former king as a training ground for his royal guard. 

But all that was now long in the past. 

With the Lord of the Demons quelled, adventurers had left that dungeon behind. 

Mantled by the morning light, the city appeared nothing more than a ghost town, a skeleton, deserted and barren. 

That’s…what it should be anyway. 

Priestess shivered at the faint sense of dread that emanated from the place. She glanced at High Elf Archer, usually so stalwart and reassuring, but even her face was drawn, her long ears back. 

The deepest dungeon, the endless abyss, the Dungeon of the Dead. 

Once home to the Lord of the Demons, a great pit that spat forth death and pestilence. 

The very remains even now bared their fangs, eager to consume adventurers. 

No fortress, however strong, could defend against them. 

“I see footprints,” Goblin Slayer said calmly, bringing Priestess back to herself. He was crouched down, looking like always as he felt along the ground. “Wolves and goblins. No question.” 

“Not going to be so easy to track, though,” Dwarf Shaman said, squinting under his eyebrows and shielding his eyes with a hand as he stared at the fortress. Suddenly, feeling a burp coming on, he grabbed the flask of wine from his hip and took a gulp. 

To make a long story short, the adventurers had chosen a forced march. They had kept running through the night, not even sparing time to rest. Mounts and riders all were exhausted. 

Now they were off their horses for the first time in hours, the animals tied to a tree in the nearby field. Priestess watched them graze, the expressions on their faces conveying a certain annoyance with their masters. 

I’m starting to see why most adventurers don’t have horses. 

They needed food and water, and a place to stay while their owners were delving a dungeon. She knew that most of those who called themselves knights-errant also went on foot. 

What about paladins, I wonder? 

The thoughts drifted around her tired head. 

This wouldn’t do. Priestess smacked her cheeks gently and said, “That’s right. Even if we only have to get through four levels of the dungeon, we have to face that fortress, too…” 

“It won’t be so bad,” Goblin Slayer said, brushing the earth off his hands as he stood. “They’re goblins. They have full faith that they are the smartest creatures around.” 

“And so?” Lizard Priest asked. He was bathing in the glowing light, warming his whole body. The first hints of winter that came in the night were more than enough to make the lizardman stiff. 

“The one who is at the highest place, or the deepest, will think he is the most important.” Goblin Slayer reached into his bag and produced a piece of leather, along with two disc-shaped crystals. 

He rolled the leather into a cylinder shape, put one of the crystals at either end, and tied them in place with rope. 

“Whazzat?” High Elf Archer was, naturally, very interested. 

“It is a telescope.” 

He put the device to his visor and looked down at the city with it; a hand reached out to him as if to say, Gimme, gimme. 

Goblin Slayer silently handed it over, and High Elf Archer put it to her eye. 

“…I see,” she breathed. It was no wonder her ears drooped. 

OWR TOMN 

The sign set above the entrance to the city was scrawled with letters in blood. A child could have written more legibly. 

One assumed that one or two of the heads of the soldiers, the former guards of this town, had helped produce the declaration. 

Goblins were not strong. But if one was attacked by several dozen of them in the confines of a fortress, it would be no different than being ambushed in a cave. 

“They mean our town, I guess,” High Elf Archer observed. “So what do you plan to do?” 

She made a face and tossed the telescope back to Goblin Slayer, who grunted. He undid the rope and unrolled the leather, putting them and the crystals back in his bag. “I’m thinking about it.” 

“Fire? Water, maybe? Smoke? Or another bomb?” 

“No,” Goblin Slayer said, shaking his head. “I’m not thinking about those things.” 

Whatever. High Elf Archer put her hands on her hips and snorted while Dwarf Shaman looked disappointed. 

“Thoughts?” 

“A fine question…” Though he had just finished sunbathing, Lizard Priest trembled. He stretched out his long neck to get a good view of the fortress then slowly shook his head from side to side. “Myself, I would commit to a siege only if I had reinforcements, or didn’t.” 

“Er, umm…,” Priestess said, furrowing her brow in confusion. 

“Wouldn’t that work out to…anytime…?” 

Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in his head. “The one is when you know reinforcements are coming and need to wait. The other is when you have no other options.” His tail slithering on the ground, Lizard Priest muttered to himself, “Then too, it could be worth attempting to cut off the enemy’s supply lines in a surprise attack.” He concluded with, “In any case, I should not expect the goblins to understand…” 

“Agreed.” High Elf Archer nodded. Not that the enemy should be underestimated, but still. “They’re goblins, after all.” 

“…However,” Lizard Priest added. 

Priestess looked up at him. This gigantic lizardman’s expression was difficult to discern, although not as difficult as Goblin Slayer’s. “Is something wrong?” 

“Speaking of reinforcements, we cannot assume that some might not come welling up out of the depths.” 

The same chill from earlier struck Priestess again. She gripped her sounding staff tightly. 

Was this some kind of mistake? The thought occurred to her fleetingly, although she was Steel-ranked. 

“…Guess it really does come down to fire this time, huh?” High Elf Archer said, recognizing there seemed no other choice. 

Goblin Slayer, however, responded, “No.” The place before them was deserted, no inhabitants left, rotting away. But still… “That is a town.” 

It was different from ruins or a dungeon, or a cave. 

High Elf Archer’s expression when Goblin Slayer presented his conclusion was difficult to describe. 

“Have a look—it may be quick work, but it’s still stone.” With a hint of exasperation, Dwarf Shaman said, “Your lot don’t know anything about masonry, Long-Ears.” He had made a little window with his thumbs and pointer fingers and was looking intently at the distant fortress. “True, ideally we might take out any goblins down there, but not with the few drops of oil we’ve got with us.” 

“How about magic?” High Elf Archer asked in spite of herself. “Don’t get me wrong, though,” she added with a flick of her ears. “I know you dwarves don’t usually learn offensive spells.” 

“Even if I knew any, I wouldn’t want to be flat out of ’em when we went in the dungeon.” 

“We sneak in, then.” 

There was nothing for it but a full-out assault. At Goblin Slayer’s words, everyone else nodded. 

“So we duck in the dungeon, rescue the princess, and beat up the goblins,” High Elf Archer said, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. “Easy enough. I’m in.” 

Lizard Priest made his strange palms-together gesture then hissed. “It is like buying a lantern at the store and going to kill the Great Serpent.” 

“What are you talking about?” High Elf Archer said. 

“It is a proverb. It means…roughly, that any adventure is simple if it be finished quickly.” 

Huh. It wasn’t clear if High Elf Archer quite understood or not. She was already restringing her bow with spider’s silk, drawing it a few times to test it out. Elves preferred to avoid releasing the string with no arrow, which was bad for the bow. 

Dwarf Shaman checked his catalysts—his weapons, in their own way—and said, “This sounds like it’s going to be a heap of trouble. But what else is new?” 

“I do not agree,” Goblin Slayer said as he looked over his gloves, armor, and sword. “We know what we must do. It is simple.” 

“…I guess you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t think so, Beard-cutter.” Dwarf Shaman gave Goblin Slayer a slap on the back; he tilted his head in perplexity. 

“…Heh-heh.” Priestess smiled the slightest bit at the sight. She didn’t have much in the way of equipment to check over; she only clung to her sounding staff and prayed to the Earth Mother. 

May their adventure end safely. May the kidnapped princess be unharmed. May they all emerge uninjured, saved. 

If I could have but one miracle from the Trade God and the God of Good Fortune… 

Then perhaps she could obtain a blessing that would turn ill luck to good fortune, just once—but she didn’t wish to pine for what she couldn’t attain. More than anything, it was disloyal to the Earth Mother, her goddess. Priestess shook her head. 

She couldn’t seem to focus on her prayers. It must have been from going the night without sleep. 

“Then there’s the question of whether any of the goblins might run away…” Priestess put a finger to her lips and made a thoughtful Mm sound. She thought she could feel her dull brain sparking to life in the morning light. 

She was thinking about the possibility that some goblin would detect the adventurers who had snuck into the dungeon. Or if the goblins had routine communications with the surface, they might send word of what was happening underground… 

“…I’ve never known a goblin to be that diligent,” High Elf Archer said. 

“She is right.” 

When Priestess saw Goblin Slayer digging through his bag, she moved faster than he did. She pulled out something she had placed at the top of her bag for just this moment. “Here! A grappling hook!” 

The Adventurer’s Toolkit again—never leave home without it. 

§ 

Lizard Priest twirled the rope a few times, hooked it over the wall of the fortress, then grabbed hold of the dangling rope and began to climb, bracing himself with his claws. 

As he ascended with hardly a sound, Dwarf Shaman gave a sigh from his back. “Gracious me, Scaly. You’ve practically got me wanting claws here.” 

“It would not do for you to remain like unto your ancestors, the monkeys.” 

When they reached the top of the fortification, they lay on their bellies, looking left and right. All clear. Lizard Priest swung his tail, which hung down the exterior side of the wall, as a signal, and Goblin Slayer nodded. 

“We climb.” 

“Great, me first!” No sooner had she spoken than High Elf Archer practically jumped onto the rope. She shimmied up it, just as silent as Lizard Priest but without putting a foot on the wall. She twisted left and right, her little butt wiggling, and soon she was atop the fortress. That was elves for you; they learned a lot, spending their lives in the trees… 

“Scaly might have been right after all.” 

“I get the feeling you’re making fun of me,” High Elf Archer said, pursing her lips, and then drew the great bow from her back. She held it loosely as she looked back over the wall—down toward Goblin Slayer and Priestess—and waved. 

Goblin Slayer drew his sword, raised his shield and dropped his hips, then turned his back to the wall. 

“Go.” 

“Okay…!” 

Priestess, looking nervous, grabbed the rope. It would be unthinkable to leave her until last, as the rear guard. 

Instead, with High Elf Archer watching out for her from above and Goblin Slayer from below, she climbed. 

It made good sense for Goblin Slayer, who so often engaged in hand-to-hand combat, to take the ground in this case. But even if she knew he wasn’t that kind of person, well…she couldn’t quite put it out of her mind. 

“…You won’t look, will you?” 

“I cannot pay much attention to you until we are up top,” came the brusque reply. 

“I thought not,” Priestess said enigmatically and held tight to the rope. Then she exclaimed, “Hup!” and, with her staff at her back, braced her feet against the wall and began to climb as diligently as she could. Once she got going, she found she had no concern to spare for what was going on below her. 

The sun beat down on her, making her sweat, and her hands shook. Her face was bright red and her breath came hard. 

“C’mon, almost there!” 

“Ri…ght…!” 

Forcing her quaking body to stay in place, she somehow managed to reach up and grab High Elf Archer’s outstretched hand. The elf’s delicate hand didn’t have much strength in it, but it felt good just to have someone holding on to her. 

Priestess pulled herself up the last small stretch then flopped down on top of the wall. 

“There you go. Good girl. Want a drink?” 

“Oh, th-thank you…” She took a swallow from the proffered canteen to bring her breathing back under control. One gulp, then two. Priestess let out a deep breath and gave the water back. 

“And where’s Goblin Slayer…?” 

“Ahh, our dear Goblin Slayer? You needn’t worry about him, I should think.” Lizard Priest was keeping watch with his unique reptilian vision; his tongue flicked out and touched his nose. 

Priestess looked down from the fortress wall, and indeed, there he was: a lone figure climbing silently toward them. He moved without High Elf Archer’s practiced grace, finding his footing solidly on the wall. Nonetheless, he joined them shortly. He freed the grappling hook, coiled it up, and gave it back to Priestess. 

“Th-thank you.” As she was putting the grappling hook away, she remembered the question she had wanted to ask. “Goblin Slayer, sir. Where did you learn to climb?” 

It didn’t seem like an especially useful skill in goblin hunting. 

“My master trained me on a snowy mountain,” he said in response. “I have sometimes climbed without a rope as well.” His voice was even. “I mean a tower.” 

“Just to be completely clear,” High Elf Archer said, eyeballing him, “you mean the inside, right?” 

“The outside.” 

High Elf Archer looked up at the sky helplessly. The sun gave her no answer. 

“…How much of a muscle brain do you have to be to do that?” 

“At least I and the other one are different.” Though I cannot speak for him. He conducted a very quick inspection of his equipment. “What do you think?” 

“That depends on whether we go down the other side or not,” Lizard Priest said. 

“Mm,” Goblin Slayer grunted. “I don’t think there’s any need to go all the way down.” 

“Are goblin sentries apt to be diligent about their work?” 

“What do you think?” 

“Then, presuming we encounter none such upon the wall…” 

Just so. Lizard Priest nodded, taking out the map—the one they had received from Sword Maiden. He traced the flowing brushstrokes with one sharp claw. 

“I suggest we travel around the town atop the wall, drop down beyond the city, and enter the dungeon from there.” 

“Eh, guess we don’t have time t’kill slashing our way through town.” Dwarf Shaman took a swig of wine, perhaps to focus himself or stave off the fatigue, and wiped the droplets from his beard. “…We made it this far with nothing but Tail Wind. That’s pretty good economy, I’d say.” 

“This time, we shall not be able to come back until the work is done. Even if we were to rest inside the labyrinth…” 

…there would surely be no guarantees they would recover enough of their mental energy to restore their miracles and spells. 

“Hard limits on what we’ve got, then. Makes sense,” High Elf Archer said. 

“Still, attempt not to use magic. As little as possible,” Goblin Slayer added. 

“I’ll save my miracles,” Priestess responded, clutching her sounding staff to her chest and nodding seriously. 

He was saying that he would trust her to know when to use her miracles. Just the thought that she was being entrusted with that choice made her heart jump. 

I don’t think there should be any need for miracles until we reach the dungeon anyway, though. 

§ 

“GOROBG?!” 

The goblin, drowsy in the middle of the “night,” didn’t know what had happened. He felt something cold slide into his neck; then an instant later, it felt like burning, and finally, he gasped for breath as if he were drowning. 

The goblin, hacking and wheezing, died before he realized his throat had been pierced. 

Goblin Slayer approached the corpse of the goblin, who had literally had his life’s breath taken away, and kicked it to the far side of the wall. 

“That makes five.” 

“Not as many as I expected, honestly,” said High Elf Archer, who had put an end to all three of the waking sentries they had found. 

They had to conserve arrows as well as spells. She started working the bolt free of the goblin’s flesh. Then, learning from the master, she gave the body a kick over to the exterior side of the wall. 

“…Guess I’m getting used to this.” 

Or maybe you’ve been spending too much time around Orcbolg? 

Back when they had first met, she would have given a disgusted groan at behavior like this. Well, the refusal to grumble and complain was one of the elves’ virtues, or so she claimed. 

High Elf Archer brushed her hands together, cleaned the residual blood off the arrowhead, and put it back in her quiver. 

“So they really must be inside,” she said. 

“Looks like it…,” Priestess agreed. 

A mass of goblins down there. Wasn’t it supposed to be dragons that one found in dungeons? 

Priestess, feeling her emotions threatening to get out of control, shook her head. “Is it about time?” 

“Mm,” Lizard Priest nodded, looking at the map. “Perhaps we should descend.” His hands were clean; he hadn’t taken part in the skirmish just now. But— 

“I never knew dwarves could run so fast! I guess they just need the right motivation!” 

“Watch yer fool mouth. If the enemy got ahold of your spell caster, what would you do then, eh?” 

Lizard Priest said, “I myself would perhaps not be so bothered.” 

Priestess, afraid lest the shaman should look to her for agreement, said evasively, “Safety first, remember!” 

She had been in close quarters combat with goblins more than once now, but it was something she would avoid if at all possible. 

Now more than ever. 

She had never worn mail before becoming an adventurer, yet suddenly, she felt so alone without it. 

Alone? 

Not anxious? Priestess blinked at the realization. 

She had been praised for it, saved by it; it had been with her every moment. She had repaired it so often, it would probably have been cheaper simply to buy a new set. 

“…I see.” Somehow, it started to make sense to her why he had stuck to that one helmet for so long. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” she told Goblin Slayer, and then she took a deep breath. 

Then Priestess closed her eyes, clutched her sounding staff, and said a short prayer to the Earth Mother for the repose of the souls of the dead. She hadn’t had time on the road, so now she included the riders of those wolves in her heartfelt hope for a blessed afterlife. 

The question of life in this world is one thing, but in death, all are equal. 

She prayed, too, for the safety of the princess who had made off with her mail. She believed—or wanted to—that the mail would keep that girl safe. 

“Are you finished?” 

“Yes… I’m ready anytime.” 

“All right.” 

Priestess produced the grappling hook again, and Goblin Slayer lodged it in the wall, letting the rope dangle down. 

As if on cue, Lizard Priest picked up Dwarf Shaman on his back, and High Elf Archer put a fresh arrow in her bow. 

All that was left, with some variation in order, was a repeat of earlier. 

Once he was confident the first two were down safely, Goblin Slayer came next. He descended, controlling his speed by planting his feet on the wall. Once on the ground, he looked up and beckoned. 

“You going to be okay? Can you make it?” 

“…I’ll do my best,” Priestess said, trying to take High Elf Archer’s encouragement to heart. She grabbed the rope uncertainly. If she fell, Dwarf Shaman would catch her with a spell, so there was no danger—but still… 

“Errgh…” 

Priestess’s trip down the rope was so pathetically hesitant that she cringed to think about it. 

Hesitant or no, she did reach the ground, and then High Elf Archer slid easily down the rope to the bottom. 

“…It’s just like you said, Scaly.” 

“What have you guys been talking about?” 

How I wish… 

Priestess was so taken with so many things. Guild Girl’s refined manners. Witch’s womanliness. Sword Maiden’s maturity. 

How I wish I was like them. 

As much experience as she had gained, she was still unrefined, still young, still weak. These past few days had truly opened her eyes to that fact. 

If she’d had her act more together—yes, yes. If only she hadn’t let her mail get stolen, none of this would’ve happened, right…? 

Maybe that’s giving myself too much credit. 

Neither gods nor people could influence the roll of the dice, much less go back in time to change a roll once made. The very thought was absurd. 

“…” 

But then, maybe it was the absence of the mail that made her feel so naked. 

And that feeling of nakedness, that terror as if everything had been stripped away, was just like that very first cave. 

Priestess took a deep breath and let it out again. 

The only response to thoughts like those was action. 

“I’m ready.” 

“Is that so?” 

Yes. 

Goblin Slayer nodded, and Priestess confronted the yawning pit before her. 

It had been a massive iron door—once. 

Soldiers must have guarded it at one time. They were no longer anywhere to be seen. The door was besmirched with blood and filth, the formerly impregnable portal now standing slightly ajar. 

The air coming from inside was chilly, carrying a nose-prickling stench of rot. 

“Let us adopt our usual formation, then,” Lizard Priest said, giving a wave of his fangs, claws, and tail. 

“Looks like it’s time for the dwarf to wield his ax,” Dwarf Shaman said, pulling out his own weapon and stashing it in his belt. 

High Elf Archer nocked her arrow a little tighter, and Priestess likewise strengthened her grip on her staff. 

And at their head went Goblin Slayer. 

The cheap-looking helmet; the grimy leather armor; the small, round shield tied to one arm; and in his right hand a sword of a strange length. 

“Let’s go.” 

On his order, the adventurers set out. 

§ 

“Come to think of it, is this your very first dungeon crawl?” 

“Yes, and it’s the Dungeon of the Dead…” 

I really have the worst luck with firsts. 

Priestess could have wept. 

Goblin Slayer held a torch in his left hand to beat back the darkness, moving forward into the blank, unfathomable space. 

They were in a stone hallway. The architecture was precise and measured, as if constructed with malice aforethought. 

Priestess had been in any number of caves, some ruins, the sewers, and a fortress, but a dungeon was different from all of them. The faint illumination from the torch could show them only a short distance ahead, after which was darkness. 

This was no place to live, or even to conduct battle. It existed only to entrap and kill those who entered. 

“Well, I s’pose if you make it out of here, y’won’t find another dungeon that’ll cause you any…trouble.” 

“This is our first experience of such a thing, as well. We are in the same, ahem, boat, as you say…” 

Bantering but never letting down their guard, the party continued quietly through the halls. 

Yes, quiet. 

Although goblins were certainly hiding there somewhere, there was none of the raucousness of a cave full of them. And yet, there was no mistaking the sense that if the adventurers let their attention lapse for an instant, a goblin might suddenly appear in front of them. They absolutely couldn’t relax, and that made it clear why a rest in a dungeon would do little to restore their energy. 

No wonder dungeon-delving competitions had faded away among adventurers who wanted to compete with one another. Even with the Lord of the Demons gone from here, it didn’t seem like a place people should be visiting, let alone spending much time in. 

“How shall we proceed?” Goblin Slayer asked, to which Lizard Priest responded by taking out the map. 

“My personal preference would be to investigate and clear each floor individually, but…” 

No way. High Elf Archer was giving Lizard Priest the evil eye; he ignored her. 

“…there is an elevator here that will permit us direct access to the fourth floor, and I think that may be the wiser decision.” 

“I’ll let you tell us where to go, then.” 

“Well and very well. First, to the north.” 

The party began the “hack,” moving forward carefully but with assurance. This was a dungeon—a dungeon from which the monsters had already been cleared. Despite the indelible, lingering smell of death from those adventurers and demons that had been here once, nothing remained on these early floors. 

Or at least…nothing’s supposed to. 

“…Hmm.” 

“…” 

At a movement from High Elf Archer’s ears, Goblin Slayer stopped. 

That was all it took. Tension ran among the adventurers; they all looked at one another and nodded. 

The dungeon’s walls were solid stone. Gloomy though it was, potential hiding places were limited to secret rooms, or the corners of the maze. 

It was a simple matter, then, to predict what the goblins would think of. 

“GROBGB!!” 

“GBB! GBBOROGGBGR!!” 

An assault from the front. 

It was the best way for the goblins to use their greatest strength, their numbers. Now they came pouring around the corner ahead. 

The goblins had a wide variety of weapons in their hands, and their skin was scored with the strange crest. 

They came in waves with no evident formation, relying only on the selfish conviction that it was their fellows and not they who would be attacked. 

“Ha-ha-ha, come, come! I shall give you each your eternal reward.” 

“Eh, I think we’re gonna be wishin’ for spells before this is over.” 

“…Hrmph, I think a dagger would actually be more useful than arrows right now.” 

Three people, three opinions. The brave one, the analytical one, and the slightly exasperated one. 

Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman came out in front, shielding High Elf Archer and Priestess behind them. The dungeon hallway was exactly wide enough for three adventurers moving abreast. Three in front, then, and two behind. 

Goblin Slayer looked at his friends—it still took him a moment to think of them that way—and said, “Let’s go.” 

“Right!” Priestess, paying close attention to the footsteps closing in on them, frowned but nonetheless nodded firmly. The adventurers became like a ship cutting through the sea of greenskins that assailed them. 

“GBBRB?!” 

“GOORBGB!!” 

“Incoming!” 

“On it!” 

Stones and arrows, improvised ammunition of all sorts, came raining down, but Goblin Slayer blocked them with his shield. 

Lizard Priest, protected by his scales, howled and deflected everything that made it past Goblin Slayer. 

“Ergh! Knew I shoulda taken my uncle up on that helmet…!” Dwarf Shaman exclaimed, working his ax this way and that. “Distance five tiles—four—three—Scaly!” 

“Hrah, behold the blade of the lizardmen!!” Lizard Priest howled and jumped at the attackers. His claws and claws and fangs and tail, the traditional weapons of his people, lashed at the goblins. 

“GOBORG?!” 

“GOORB?!” 

Geysers of blood, innards, chunks of flesh, and death cries were suddenly everywhere. Two goblins were torn apart like old rags. Lizard Priest’s power seemed beyond what should have been possible in unarmed combat, but regardless, this was by no means the end. 

“GOROBG?!” 

“Three—four!” Goblin Slayer swung his weapon with absolute precision, fending off attacks from the right and the left. He caught a blow with his shield, stabbed with his sword. He slashed a throat then kicked the body into the enemies behind it to block their movement. 

He carried the momentum of the move directly into a throat with his sword then shattered a skull, and that was two more dead goblins. 

Goblin Slayer moved forward, grabbing a club dropped by one of the dead monsters. 

“I hate! To shoot! In such! Close! Quarters…!!” 

A monster that had gotten past Goblin Slayer was closing in on High Elf Archer, where he was met with a rain of arrows. The elf and the human girl in the back had looked like easy pickings to him, and he had advanced with a grin on his face. Now that grin was run through with an arrow; the goblin fell backward with the bolt lodged in his brainpan. 

High Elf Archer kicked the body away with her long, slim legs; drew another arrow; and loosed at the next enemy. 

He took an elven shot at close range. The impact alone was enough to blow the goblin backward. 

“I’m not gonna have enough arrows…! Where are we going?!” 

“We push past this corner, then through a door. The other passages lead to burial chambers, which we can ignore. Once we’re through the door, take a left!” No sooner had he shouted the instructions than Lizard Priest drove his fangs into a goblin’s shoulder and shook him about. “Eeeeeeyaaaaaaahhhhh!!” 

“GOOROGBG?!” 

The monster found himself slammed against the walls, used to push back his companions, and finally flung bodily against the floor. Blood spewed from the shattered goblin’s body; Priestess involuntarily looked away. 

This was not the first time, however, that she had experienced the carnage of battle. She held her sounding staff tightly in both hands, staring intently at the passageway as she said in a tight voice, “We’ll keep an eye behind! Goblins might come out of the burial chambers…!” 

“Sounds good! But don’t go nuts back there!” Dwarf Shaman called, adjusting his grip on his weapon. 

Exactly like we expected. 

Room guards in this dungeon had never come out before. In the Demon Lord’s army, those who guarded the important places and those who patrolled the halls were separate. Now, though, the only ones who remained here were foolish goblins. 

“GGOROGOB!” 

“GOB! GOBOGORROBG!!” 

They came pouncing out of the side rooms, smashing through the doors with hideous cries. 

This, though, was something she had known about since her very first adventure. 

“Ehh—yah!” 

Priestess swung her staff as hard as she could, stopping the oncoming goblins. Priestess was not strong enough to do more than stymie them for a moment, something she well understood. Defeating goblins wasn’t her role. She just had to do what she could to support the strategy. 

“Take this!!” 

“GORRO?!” 

One goblin paused when he received a bop on the nose from Priestess’s staff—then died when he received a bash of the skull from Dwarf Shaman’s ax. His brains spilled on the floor, his head split open like an overripe fruit. 

“No need for ya to take any more risks than y’have to!” 

“Right! Thank you…!” Priestess struggled to do all she could, sweat pouring down her face. 

Goblin Slayer would send the goblins in one direction, and Lizard Priest would tear them apart, or High Elf Archer would shoot them. Those that came from the sides or behind found themselves corralled by Priestess and then finished off by Dwarf Shaman. 

The party flew through the doorway and found themselves at a crossroads. They formed a circle and charged through. 

Now in formation though refusing to use spells, the adventurers’ attacks became even more overwhelming. But did the goblins feel threatened? Heavens no. 

They were simple creatures. They were winning by strength of numbers. They (each individual goblin thought) would not die. And so they would win. They may have looked askance at the deaths of their fellows, but they trod over the bodies just the same to continue the attack. 

They attacked with all the force of their lust, their desire to tear the adventurers limb from limb and have their way with the girls. 

“GOBOG!!” 

The goblin focus shifted from the front row to the back, perhaps seeing that it was more vulnerable. The blades of spears and daggers glinted in the dungeon’s phosphorescence, lashing out at every opening. The tips were daubed with black liquid; Priestess went stiff when she saw it. 

“Eek?! 

“Look out!” 

Dwarf Shaman grabbed her shoulder and dragged her back just in time then came forward to trade blows himself. 

He launched a body blow into the goblin with all the strength in his dense little frame. The monster yelped and stumbled back, and then came the ax. 

Dwarf Shaman fought like he was cutting down trees; he lacked the refinement of a specialized warrior but had all the power of a dwarf. 

“I-I’m sorry…!” Priestess shook her head and shouted, “They’re using poison!” 

“Won’t matter if they don’t scratch me!” Dwarf Shaman called back. “But gods, Beard-cutter! There’s no end to ’em!” 

“Yes.” Goblin Slayer smashed a goblin’s head with a club then jumped over the dead monster and jammed his torch into the face of another one. 

“GGOROGB?!” 

A muffled scream and a twitch. But the creature wasn’t dead. Goblin Slayer brought the club down. 

Goblin Slayer beat his way through the horde with his club and his torch, rhythmically, as if pounding a drum. When the club finally broke after crushing the skulls of who knew how many goblins, he tossed it aside and said shortly, “Eleven. You said left, correct?” 

“Indeed!” Lizard Priest howled. “Head for the inner door!” 

“…Take the lead.” 

“What are you planning to do this time?!” High Elf Archer called, clicking her tongue when she saw how few arrows she had left. Goblin Slayer pulled a small bottle from his item pouch. 

“It won’t be water, or poison, or an explosion.” 

No sooner had he spoken than he pitched the torch and the bottle at a goblin in front of them. 

“GGBOROOGOBOG?!?!” 

Doused with gasoline, immediately followed by a source of fire, the creature burst into flame; Goblin Slayer mercilessly kicked him down. “Twelve… Now go!” 

“As you say!” 

The adventurers moved quickly. Lizard Priest vaulted over the flames, through the opening Goblin Slayer had made, and pressed forward. 

With the goblins behind them safely at a distance, Dwarf Shaman came pelting up. “Fire?! We need to go that way!” He turned to Priestess. “Can you make the jump?!” 

“I’ll do it…right…now!” 

Priestess hugged her staff and closed her eyes then flung herself over the flames. 

High Elf Archer secured her bow on her back and hopped over with a nimble leap, kicking off the wall and settling to the ground. 

The door is right in front of us. 

“We’re all here, Orcbolg!!” 

“Okay.” 

High Elf Archer provided covering fire while Goblin Slayer dug in his bag again. This time he came up with a scroll. 

“GBOR!!” 

“GOBOGGOBOG!!” 

“Goblin Slayer, sir! Quickly…!” Behind Goblin Slayer, who faced an oncoming tide of goblins, Priestess was hardly able to speak. 

Goblin Slayer nodded in acknowledgment, thrusting at the monsters with the scroll as he backed up. “Break through the door!” 

“You got it!” Dwarf Shaman called, followed by a crash as he rammed the door with his shoulder. 

Goblin Slayer hopped backward over the flaming goblin corpses; as he did so, he noticed an old sign hanging to one side. There appeared to be some kind of warning written on it. Now it was hardly legible, but… 

Ignoring the “Oh!” from High Elf Archer behind him, Goblin Slayer untied the scroll. 

“GGBGROB?” 

“GOR! GOOGB!!” 

It scarcely made sense to the goblins at first. 

A wind began to blow through the dungeon. 

Just wind? What is he, trying to scare us? 

The goblins were quite amused—until they found themselves floating in midair. 

“Eek…?!” 

“Get through the door, quickly, or you’ll get sucked in!” Goblin Slayer said sharply to Priestess, who was trying to hold her hat on her head. 

An instant later, a huge wind billowed up. 

The scroll he had thrown at them produced a void scorched by supernatural flames. 

“GOOROGGB?!” 

“GOBG!! GOOROGOBG?!” 

The whirlwind, blowing away the fetid subterranean air, howled like a beast. 

One goblin, two. They tried desperately to hold their ground, digging toes and fingers into the walls and floor, but it was no use. The goblins ahead tried to retreat, but they ran into their comrades pushing up from behind. 

“GOBG?!” 

“GBBOOROGOBG?!” 

At last, the goblins were overwhelmed by the crazily dancing wind sprites and dragged into the void. 

The adventurers forged ahead to the accompaniment of goblin screams, until Goblin Slayer shut the door. 

Only the sound of the closing door seemed louder than the roar of the wind. 

§ 

“Wh-what was that…?!” High Elf Archer demanded, panting as they rushed through the darkness. 

“It was a Gate,” Goblin Slayer answered, equally from the dark. “Connected to a high place.” 

“A high place?” High Elf Archer asked darkly. Not that him using scrolls almost at random is anything new. 

“The sky,” he said. “I have heard that wind sprites fly toward the place where there are the fewest dance partners.” He hadn’t wanted to use an item like that at that moment, but there had been no choice. “I had wanted to try it on goblins at some point. It was the perfect opportunity.” 

“…So what you’re saying is, somewhere in the world, at this moment, it’s raining goblins.” High Elf Archer heaved a sigh. If there had been a sky, she might have looked up at it. “Oh, for… Fine. I guess it’s better than a flood of water.” 

“I see.” 

“And it’s not like I can really complain right now.” She seemed to mean that she was less exasperated with him than simply resigned. The small flap of her ears must surely have been because of a last gust of passing wind. “Man, sure is dark in here, though. Even I can’t see, and I’m an elf.” 

The adventurers had fled the whirlwind through the door, and now they were in pitch blackness. They could guess that the width of the corridor and the height of the ceiling had probably not changed very much, but still, there was no hint of light. Priestess struck a flint, trying impatiently to light a torch or a lantern, but all she could get was a few sparks. When she finally gave up, the sigh she let out sounded inordinately loud. “…Guess we can’t use fire.” 

“It seems this place is what is called a territory of darkness, or restraint,” Lizard Priest said quietly. With his heat vision, he guided them along. As long as they could hear the scraping beside them, they knew his scaly hand was feeling its way along the wall. “From what I saw of the map just before all the fun started, I am almost certain the elevator is ahead.” 

“Well, I hope you’re more certain than almost,” Dwarf Shaman said. “I guess even the goblins wouldn’t follow us in here.” He gave a muttered expression of annoyance and could be heard to sit down heavily. Next came the noise of a stopper popping out of a bottle, and then a glug glug. 

Yes, there were goblins just one little door away from them, but the entire party tacitly agreed to a short break. 

“…I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t of much help.” Priestess sounded dejected as she sat down (bumpf) on her small bottom. She had thrown herself completely into the fight, but all she had really done was swing her staff around. She couldn’t use her miracles, because she was saving them; Dwarf Shaman had had to rescue her from being stabbed with a poisoned knife; and now she couldn’t even strike up a flame. Those things weren’t her fault—but that didn’t keep her from feeling depressed about them. 

She felt a rough hand pat her shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry about it, lass. When the back row has to resort to their weapons, that’s a clear sign we’re in dire straits.” The dwarf laughed. “It’s Beard-cutter who should be feeling bad about that!” 

“Indeed. It is by no means the role of a monk to wield his weapon in the service of his enemies’ destruction.” Lizard Priest took up the thread, sounding so serious that Priestess couldn’t help but giggle. 

That seemed to be enough to cut through the tension. “Right,” she said, sounding ever so slightly more cheerful. “Can just holding on be considered a role?” 

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer replied. “There will always be something for you to do.” 

They all felt confident that he must be giving his usual deliberate nod, despite being rendered invisible by the darkness. 

And I guess it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t see his expression. 

So Priestess nodded back, feeling herself relax a bit. “…Okay. When the time comes, I’ll do my part.” 

And then she smiled from ear to ear, even though nobody could see it. 

Goblin Slayer waited for a few moments, letting everyone catch their breath, and when he judged they were ready, he said, “Let’s go.” 

The adventurers looked at one another in the dark, nodded, and then formed up and moved out. 

They worked their way along by feel, ignoring other doors they found, ever deeper into the dungeon. At last, on the far side of all the darkness, they saw a dim light. It illuminated a column of letters, A to D, visible through two open doors. 

It was the elevator.