Goblin Slayer - Volume 8 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Goblin Hand, Sigh Of Destruction

Faith can mean more than selfless prayer. 

An offering to placate rampaging gods, a cry for the help you just happen to need—that’s faith, too. 

What, then, was in the goblin’s heart? It was too late now to know. 

“Ngh, ahh…!” 

Priestess writhed with the pain, but her very breath froze in the air, tormenting her further. 

The dim world of the dungeon was already painted over with white, the freezing snow of the blizzard so sharp it seemed to cut her skin. 

The Onibi fires vanished in an instant, even the last smoldering flames of them winked out of existence. 

Priestess, though, refused to move from where she was. She had in her arms a frightened, trembling, yelping little girl who was curling herself up as she tried to run from the terror. Priestess held her close in her thin arms, stiffening up and protecting her with all the strength in her little body. 

“Hrr—rrooahhhh…!” 

If there was to be a response, then, it would come from Lizard Priest, the very first party member to notice and react to the aberration. With his breath coming as steam, he jumped forward, unleashing a roar that reverberated around the burial chamber. 

“Ah, you who have survived the white destruction! Maniraptora! Behold my deeds in battle!” He placed his massive body to shield them from the brutal cold emanating from the greater demon’s hand. Frost formed on his scales. His skin froze. Snow collected on his claws and fangs, causing his body to pitch. 

Priestess blinked—her eyelids threatened to freeze shut—and adjusted her grip on her sounding staff with fingers that felt they might never come loose from it. 

“We…need…a miracle…!” 

“I am…afraid…not!” Lizard Priest looked toward Priestess, his usual lecturing tone undiminished. “I, as it happens, can no longer…use mine…!!” 

Yes: be it magic or miracles, such feats demand a certain amount of strength to twist the very warp and weft of the world around one. Lizardmen were not built for the cold to begin with. Now Lizard Priest’s eyes were nearly closed, as if sleepy, betraying how near he was to the end of his endurance. 

Thus, it would not do for Priestess to use the last of her precious miracles here and now. The young woman bit her lip and swallowed any objection. 

“Scaaaalyyyy!!” 

Lizard Priest’s intervention, though, did little to turn the tide. They were still in real danger of complete destruction. 

Dwarf Shaman was shouting, and High Elf Archer was hugging herself, calling a warning. “Guys, this… This is bad…!” 

There was no time even to acknowledge her. Goblin Slayer was on the move. 

Blocking the sleet and hail with the round shield on his arm or letting it bounce off his helmet, he made a beeline. 

“You are alive?” 

“…I am, at least, not dead yet.” 

Then, pointing his sword at the hand of the greater demon that was causing this snowstorm, Goblin Slayer supported Lizard Priest as if carrying him on his back. Goblin Slayer just managed to hold up the great weight of that body and work his way backward. 

It was too late now to advance at a run. He didn’t have the equipment necessary to deal with the frozen floor. 

“My thanks,” Lizard Priest said, to which the only answer was, “It was nothing,” after which Goblin Slayer looked around behind his helmet. 

“Make a wall…now!” 

“A wall, he says…!” Dwarf Shaman replied, his beard crunching as he moved. “You mean the snow!” 

The dwarf slammed a palm down on the snow piled on the ground. He was just visible in High Elf Archer’s peripheral vision as she started running. For an elf, connected to nature as they were, a bit of ice was no real obstacle. “…This way, quick!” 

“Right…!” 

Priestess crawled along, supporting herself with her staff and covering the princess with her body; the cleric, too, was clearly at her limit. Her skin was pale and bloodless, and her sweet lips were turning purple. Her teeth chattered ceaselessly. 

High Elf Archer had scant protection from the cold herself. Even so, she shielded the girls as best she could with her small body as they retreated. Her long ears were shaking. 

“Orcbolg, hurry up…!” 

“Y-yes…!” 

It had only been twenty or thirty seconds, just a single turn. But to the adventurers, it seemed to take forever to collect themselves. The sight of them all huddling behind the stubby dwarf was almost comical. 

“Ice Princess Atali, now, I call you, give this hero a dance, like the blowing flakes of snow through the air prance!” 

At this moment of crisis, though, his craggy form looked as sturdy as a cliffside. The snow sprites he directed with Spirit Wall danced around the adventurers. Before the party’s eyes, the blowing, piling snow became a wall to protect them. 

Fight snow with snow. It could even block out the cold. 

“A simple snow cave… How about it?” 

“…It’ll…have to do…” Priestess touched Lizard Priest’s freezing body—he was panting hard by now—and made a quick decision. She was no healer, but as a cleric of the Earth Mother, she knew a thing or two. 

“Give me a healing—no, a Stamina potion!” 

“All right.” Goblin Slayer pulled two bottles from his bag and tossed them to Priestess. “You and that girl should each drink as well.” 

“Got it!” Priestess scrabbled at the stopper with stiff fingers. She doused a cloth from her item pouch with the contents and pressed it to Lizard Priest’s mouth. 

His consciousness was fading, and trying to pour a potion down his throat might have choked him. Priestess watched Lizard Priest suckle at the cloth, and meanwhile, she drank from one of the half-frozen potions herself. 

It burned as it went down her throat, and then she let out a breath of relief as she felt a heat in her stomach. 

“Beard-cutter, Long-Ears, you drink something, too.” Dwarf Shaman, who was taking a gulp of wine as if to say his work here was done now that the spell was active, tossed his bottle to the others. 

Goblin Slayer caught it and poured some of the wine through his visor. Then he passed it to High Elf Archer. “Drink. It will warm you. If you don’t move, you will die.” 

“…You know I’m not good with this stuff. But I guess this isn’t the time to complain.” The elf took the bottle in both hands with a look of disgust then licked daintily at it. Then she poked her head up over the wall of ice to see what the greater demon’s hand was up to. 

The hand, which had popped out of the goblin’s flesh like a flower pushing through the earth, was still up on the altar. After invoking the snowstorm, the “trunk”—cords of muscle bulging out—writhed and twitched. 

It was a terrible sight, one High Elf Archer wasn’t eager to look at, but she was a scout. It was her job. 

“…Looks like it can’t reach us here,” she said. 

“Then we were successful,” Goblin Slayer answered. “How is the girl?” 

“…She’s getting weaker,” Priestess said, gently giving the girl some of the potion from which she’d taken her sip. “I don’t think we can stay here long.” 

“What do you think?” Goblin Slayer asked. He clicked his tongue when he saw how hard Lizard Priest was breathing. “…Never mind,” he corrected himself. “We must attack, or we must retreat.” Then he stashed his sword in its scabbard and let out a breath. 

He looked around at his party. Dwarf Shaman had one spell left, Priestess a single miracle. Lizard Priest must already be at his limit. 

The goblins were dead. The girl was rescued. There were still goblins above them. 

The snowstorm was getting stronger. That was obviously the hand of Chaos, and yet… 

“There is no reason we must destroy it.” 

There was only one conclusion. 

“True enough,” High Elf Archer said with a hint of a smile. “You’re right. To borrow a phrase, it’s not a g—” 

But that was as far as she got. 

The wall of ice shattered with a roar, and High Elf Archer’s body went flying through space. 

“Hrgh… Agh?!” 

She slammed against the wall of the chamber with a sound like a breaking branch, and blood dribbled from her mouth. 

What had happened? The answer was simple. 

The greater demon’s fist had twisted up those ropelike muscles and jumped. 

A blow from that fist, as large as any giant’s, was more than enough to punch through their wall. 

The adventurers were showered with shards of ice, buried, and unfortunately, it was their scout who had taken the direct hit. 

Priestess cried out, shouting the name of High Elf Archer, who was crumpled like a dried leaf. 

“I’m…f…fine…” Her voice came in gasps, tiny and weak. When the metal helmet looked at Priestess, she nodded tearfully. 

Goblin Slayer let out a breath. It was all right, then—not critical. If it had been, she wouldn’t have been able to hide it. 

“So the bastard can move…!” As he rose up, clearing away the snow, though, Goblin Slayer was unable to act immediately. 

In front of him was the greater demon’s hand, like a snake raising up its head. 

Can it see me? 

He seriously doubted it. Perhaps that meant it had some form of extrasensory perception or the like. 

An old deer-hunting technique flashed through his mind: Put snow in your mouth, become a part of the scenery. Then go for the kill. 

“What’s the plan, Beard-cutter?!” Dwarf Shaman had Lizard Priest’s massive body across his shoulders as if he were hiding under it. Priestess was crawling along, still holding the Princess, and giving High Elf Archer a shoulder to lean on as she got drunkenly to her feet. 

Goblin Slayer didn’t know what to say right away. 

It was not a goblin. So what should he do? It was not a goblin. This was no goblin. 

This was not like that monster (whatever it had been called) that they had battled. This was different from the thing in the sewers, the dark elf, and even that ocean snake. 

He realized with surprise how few things he actually had experience of. 

Goblin Slayer thought. That was something his master had told him. All you can do is think. 

You have no talent. No smarts. No skills. But you have guts. So think! 

He thought. Would an icicle come crashing down or a snowball come flying? 

What did he have in his pocket? In his pocket, he had… 

“A hand.” He finally squeezed the words out. “…Let’s do it.” 

Even he could hardly believe the sound of his own voice. 

“Yes, sir!” came an answering shout, without an instant’s hesitation. 

A young girl was looking directly at him, clutching a sounding staff in her frozen fingers and heroically trying to keep her body from shaking. 

It was a demonstration of Priestess’s—yes—faith. 

§ 

The greater demon’s hand was starved and withering. 

A goblin’s flesh and soul—how much nourishment could there be in such things? 

Adventurers. 

It had to kill the adventurers, the Pray-ers. 

The poor fools must be preparing themselves to die. Their lives. Their souls. Their despair. 

The hand gently stroked the air, seeking these things. 

There. 

The senses of a greater demon, the thoughts of such a monster, were so far removed from those of the adventurers that they could not hope to fathom them. In the end, it was simply impossible to imagine what he—or she?—might be thinking. 

But there was the dwarf, working his way slowly back with the lizardman, the elf girl, and the human sacrifice. The way the muscles thrashed when the monster recognized that dwarf had to be inspired by something we could call joy, or at least greed. 

The muscles of the greater demon’s hand squeezed and bulged, the entire thing pulsating. 

Then it leaped—at which exact moment a stone came flying from one side. 

The hand stopped as if it had been slapped, the wrist turning this way and that. 

“Over…here!” 

It was just a rock. Sling or no sling, the girl’s slim build was not going to be enough to do any damage. 

But there she was, a girl standing there, fighting back the fear and the cold. 

When it spotted her, the movements of the greater demon’s hand became shockingly fast. It twisted toward her, its hideous fingers skittering along the floor like spiders. 

“…Eek?!” Priestess exclaimed at the terror of it. It was moving fast, probably too fast for her to deal with. It would catch her, clasp her, twist and break her, squeeze and choke her. Her flesh and bones would be reduced to mush, her innards to a bloody soup; she would be utterly shattered before she was even dead. 

“As if I would let you…!” 

“—?!” 

Priestess never shut her eyes as the hand closed in on her. And then the instant before it grabbed her, the arm was thrown sideways. 

Was it because of the icy floor? No. Magic, then? No. 

“Some call it Medea’s Oil. Others, petroleum. It’s gasoline.” 

There was an adventurer with a cheap-looking metal helmet, grimy leather armor, a round shield tied to his arm, and a sword of a strange length at his hip. Even a beginner would have better equipment than this man, who now threw a small bottle on the floor. 

A viscous black substance ran across the ground. 

“?!” 

The monster couldn’t keep its footing (or was that handing?), slipping and struggling. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir, fire…!” 

“We can’t, it’s too cold,” he said sharply. “Fall back and go!” 

“Yes, sir!” 

Priestess ran as gingerly as she could, taking care not to slip on the ice as she made for a corner of the room. Goblin Slayer moved to cover her retreat, reaching into his item bag. 

“‘Never leave home without it,’ eh?” He whispered the words Priestess spoke so often and pulled out a grappling hook. 

He sent it flying toward the hand scrabbling along the ice and oil. He felt it set with a bite; surely not enough to cause pain, but… 

“Hrm…!” 

When he pulled it taut, the gigantic arm went sliding on the gasoline, slipping around. This would help make up in some small way the great gulf in their strength and weight. It was not enough to turn the battle in Goblin Slayer’s favor, obviously, so he had to be careful what he did. 

“Come…!” He gave the rope a jerk as if directing a cow that refused to listen to him. He looped the rope around the hand several times as it continued to struggle with the gasoline. 

Making the floor slick was well and good, but it would be pointless if he was caught in his own trap. He slid his feet along to maintain his balance. He dropped his hips, put his strength into his legs. If he survived this, he would have to put cleats on his boots—or perhaps cover them in fur. 

“—!” 

The enemy, however, was not about to simply let Goblin Slayer have his way. The greater demon’s hand twisted its wrist powerfully, as if swatting an especially annoying fly. 

“Hrah…?!” Goblin Slayer was lifted into the air. 

A moment later, he slammed into the wall of the chamber like a toy on a string being wielded by a careless child. 

“Hrgh?!” 

He heard his armor crack, but he didn’t let go of the rope. 

He dropped to the ground, slapping the floor just before the impact to soften the fall. He was all right. Nothing hurt enough to be broken. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir!— Goblin Slayer!!” Priestess, heading deeper into the room, turned back and let out a cry as if she might burst. 

“There is no…problem…!” 

With a click of his tongue, Goblin Slayer stood up. 

Yes, I can still do it. It’s dangerous, but possible. 

He was still in better condition than after the beating that whatever-it-was had given him beneath the ruins. Perhaps that had been a higherlevel monster than he had realized. 

Then again, it was always possible that his own level had increased. 

Whatever. The point is, the difference between his power and mine is not absolute. 

He snorted, finding his own thought comical, then supported himself unsteadily. 

“How are you doing over there?” 

“G-good!” Priestess said, quickly turning back toward her own objective. “I’m…almost there!” 

When Priestess reached the double doors resting at the far side of the burial chamber, she pulled out an item. 

The Blue Ribbon. The thing Sword Maiden had given him, and he had given her just now. 

Priestess tied the Ribbon around one hand and pushed on the door. 

When she did so, lo and behold, a blue light began to glow beside the door, and a row of symbols carved itself in the air. 

It was a mysterious light, once lost. Priestess bit her lip as it shone upon her. 

I knew it, Priestess thought, recalling Sword Maiden’s words. She put a hand to her small chest. This is the key to this place…! 

Priestess quickly ran her slim fingers over the keyboard. It was all right. She could do this. “Anytime!” 

“I see…!” Goblin Slayer pulled on the rope with all the strength he had left. 

There was an answering snatch! as the hand grasped at the floor, fighting not to move. 

It was a tug-of-war—for an instant. 

“Hrn…?!” 

Unexpectedly, the hand went limp, and Goblin Slayer took a tumble. The greater demon’s hand, which had ceased to resist him, worked its fingers even as it slid toward him. 

“—Eek?!” Priestess let out an involuntary cry. She felt like the burial chamber was suddenly several degrees colder. 

Magical energy swirled around the greater demon’s palm, the air creaking. 

Another blizzard…?! 

Priestess’s past battles flashed through her mind like an inspiration. 

The gigantic ogre. 

The upraised arm. 

The swirling magic—conflagration. 

And him, standing with his back to her. 

Before, she had used up everything, hadn’t been able to move. 

But now. 

Now… 

“Goblin Slayer, sir!” 

“Orcbolg!!” 

A sufficiently advanced skill is indistinguishable from magic. 

Like High Elf Archer’s archery. 

She lifted one leg up to support her bow, off to the left, drawing the string with her teeth. It was bizarre, and yet, beautiful. And as for the arrow she had readied… 

“O sickle wings of velociraptor, rip and tear, fly and hunt!” Lizard Priest used the modicum of strength he had regained to invoke Swordclaw. “What is this great destruction of yours? If you wish to make corpses of us, bring forth the fiery stone fallen from heaven, and do it that way!” 

The flame of his life force, once guttering, had begun to burn a bit more brightly. The help for this last vestige of his consciousness, which he could not otherwise have maintained, did not come from his ancestors. 

Because, of course, he was not alone. 

“Dancing flame, salamander’s fame. Grant us a share of the very same!” 

It was thanks to Dwarf Shaman, who had used some coal as a catalyst to cast Kindle. 

With the renowned hardiness of his people, Dwarf Shaman had gotten them to just in front of the elevator. Now he grinned knowingly and took a sip of fire wine. 

“Do it, Long-Ears!” 

“Hhhh—rahhh!!” 

A very un-elf-like bellow filled the room, and there was a flash of light. 

Dragon fangs, her companion’s fangs, slammed into the greater demon’s hand. 

“—?!” 

It was not, of course, enough to cause serious pain. They were just the shots of a dying elf (no matter how superb an archer she might be) against a high-level greater demon (be it only its palm). It would be enough if they even pierced the skin. And yes, it was enough. 

The fangs of the fearsome nagas were powerful enough to stop the hand from summoning its magic. It reeled from the impact, the vortex of magical energy disappearing like water sloshed over the edge of a cup. The twisting air snapped back into place and, at that moment: 

“Yaaah…!” 

Goblin Slayer would not miss this opportunity. The grappling hook, which he had pulled out by sheer force, along with the oil on the ground, sent the greater demon’s hand sliding. 

“—!” 

Now. 

With the threat sliding directly toward her, Priestess didn’t hesitate for a moment: she began tapping the elevator’s keyboard. 

The doors opened without a sound. The greater demon’s hand slipped inside, literally. 

“—!” 

Beyond the doors was nothing but a hole leading to a very long drop. No creature alive could survive the fall—but the greater demon’s hand would not take the plunge so easily. 

Even as it slipped and slid on the gasoline, it spread its fingers, trying to catch itself on a wall or crawl along. It looked like some kind of bizarre spider, a creature otherworldly and fearsome. It might not escape the fall, but it was bent on at least taking this girl with it. 

If the greater demon had any personal awareness left, such was most likely its thought. 

All the more reason to… 

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

All the more reason to play her part, here and now. 

Her prayer, a prayer that shaved away part of her very soul, reached up to heaven and earned her a miracle from the all-merciful Earth Mother. 

The invisible barrier of Protection spread out to either side, like a lid, to shield her devout follower. 

“Hrgh…!” 

The greater demon’s hand, rebuffed, pounded angrily against the barrier, causing Priestess to wince each time as if she herself were receiving the blows. 

But that was all. 

Not long after, the hand began to slip away, and even though it dug its nails into the walls, loath to give up the fight, it was drawn inexorably back toward the pit, until it fell into the dark. 

There was a long, silent moment. Finally, High Elf Archer’s ears twitched, and she let out a breath. “Did we…do it?” 

She didn’t sound sure herself. 

Priestess, though, didn’t answer. Indeed, she couldn’t answer. The tingling in her neck still wasn’t gone. 

This isn’t over…! 

“—!” 

There was a deep thud, and a hairline fracture ran along the barrier of Protection like glass about to shatter. 

“Ah, ahhh…?!” 

The greater demon’s hand had flexed every muscle it had to leap upward and launch its fist against the barrier. Priestess yelped with pain as if she herself had been struck and dropped to her knees. 

Thud! A second hit. 

“Ugh… Hrgh…?!” 

Priestess’s vision clouded as a shock wave went through her solar plexus. She couldn’t breathe. She fell prostrate and groaned. 

“Hrrr… Ahh…” 

A third blow. It felt like it was tearing out her insides; she was flung back up to her knees. 

But…I can’t…! 

She forced back down the bitter fluids that threatened to come up, staring fixedly straight ahead. 

I can’t give in… This isn’t over… It isn’t…over! 

It wasn’t that she had some special assurance. She simply believed. 

Believed she must not be defeated here. 

The goblins. The stolen mail. The rescued girl. Her rescued self. Sword Maiden. Her friends. 

The thoughts swirled in her mind. Was this what it meant for one’s life to flash before one’s eyes? No, no. This was no time to be getting lost in memories. 

Goblin…Slayer…sir…! 

“It’s coming!” 

His words sounded to her like a benediction. She clung to them, supported herself with them, stood with them. 

The greater demon’s hand stiffened. It was pushed up from below, shoved against the holy wall. 

Why—how? 

Somehow, Priestess felt she could understand the hand’s confusion. It brought a smile to her pain-racked face. 

“This is…an elevator,” she said. “And you’re going up…!” 

It was the “box,” rising up from below, that had the critical effect. The greater demon’s hand was caught between the metal structure rising rapidly toward the surface and the Protection barrier… 

“—! —…! ! !! !!!! !” 

It survived for several long seconds before, with a disgusting squish, it was reduced to hunks of meat. 

With the cursed connection gone, the body of the goblin the greater demon had been using virtually melted. It ran down past the elevator in hideous, reeking black rivulets. 

A moment later, Protection disappeared, its job done, and the elevator’s incongruously cheerful ding! sounded in the burial chamber. The doors slid open without a sound. They were the entrance to a bottomless pit, to the very abyss. 

Everyone was breathing in hard, ragged gasps, and for a time, nobody spoke. 

“…A hammer and…an anvil…” Priestess managed at last. She almost stumbled, using her staff to support herself. She put her free hand against her throbbing stomach. 

This was the absolute limit. They were out of prayers after fighting all this way from the moment they entered the fortified city. 

As Priestess’s slim, elegant body pitched forward, she felt herself supported by a rough, gloved hand that casually clasped her and drew her close. 

“That’s right,” Goblin Slayer said. “You did well to remember.” 

“Because you…” Priestess smiled, her face sweaty. “Because you…taught it to me.” 

“…Is that so?” 

“Yes.” 

Goblin Slayer fell silent then, supporting her shoulder as they walked. One step, then another. They worked their way along a floor covered with oil and ice and blood and flesh, one step at a time, ever forward. 

In front of the elevator—so close, yet so far off—she found her companions supporting one another as they waited for her, as she had known she would. 

Just the opposite of another time I can think of, Priestess thought suddenly and smiled. 

Nobody acted like they were taking pity on her, yet she appreciated the gentle walking pace they took. And then suddenly, she noticed something. Something that might have been minor, trivial. 

He’s never…supported me as we walked before. 

Priestess thought she could feel heat rising in her cheeks and looked down. She saw his boots and her own feet side by side. 

So not all firsts were bad. 

That was her little insight, here in the heart of this dungeon. 

§ 

Of course, none of that meant it was all over. 

“He’s…going that way!” 

“Oh, for—!!” 

More goblins were waiting for them when the elevator arrived at the first floor. 

“GROORB! GBOOROGB!!” 

“GBBOROOROB!!” 

There were fewer than before, to be sure. These must have been the remainder of whatever they hadn’t destroyed earlier, or else monsters come up from lower floors. 

“GOOBOGB!!” 

“Why…you…!” Priestess swung her staff as hard as she could, keeping the goblins with their hideous expressions at bay. 

High Elf Archer loosed arrows nonstop—but compared with her normal shooting, her movements looked as dull and slow as a Porcelain’s. She had run out of bud-tipped arrows, too; now she relied on the rusty metal ones she stole from the goblins. 

“It…hurts…!” 

“GOOBOG?!” 

And yet, it was enough. The goblin stumbled backward with an arrow through his eye and collapsed. 

“Five!” 

Almost instantly, Goblin Slayer jumped on another enemy. 

“GBBOOGB?!” 

He used his shield to stall the upraised club, deflecting the impact and pushing his foe over before closing in. Restraining the creature’s futile resistance with the shield, Goblin Slayer stabbed out with his sword at the monster’s throat before twisting violently. 

“GOO?! GROGB…?!” The goblin died choking on his own blood. 

“That’s six,” Goblin Slayer muttered. Priestess and High Elf Archer, both breathing hard, looked at each other. 

The room was full of goblin corpses, including those from the earlier battle that hadn’t been cleared away. Goblin Slayer stepped on the bodies as his metal helmet turned. “How’s this area?” 

“All good,” High Elf Archer said with a weak flip of her ears. “I think. I’m not as sure as I’d like to be.” 

Her voice was thick with fatigue. She leaned her left shoulder against the wall to compensate for her right arm hanging limply at her side. 

“…I’ll call the others, then.” Priestess spoke bravely, but although she was uninjured, she looked much like High Elf Archer. She was so tired she was dragging her feet, tottering as she approached the door; she gave a little shout as she summoned the strength to open it. “It’s okay now,” she said. 

“Ah, sorry ’bout that…” 

From beyond the door Priestess held open emerged Dwarf Shaman, his face slack. He had Lizard Priest’s massive body across his shoulders, along with the much smaller form of the princess. 

“Many…apologies… If I could only make my body…work a little more…” Lizard Priest’s voice was muddled as he tried to apologize. He had gotten a little of his strength back—but just a little. His movements were obviously impaired after surviving the blast of freezing magic. Not to say someone other than a lizardman would have done any better… 

“No… I’m sorry I don’t have more power,” Priestess said, shaking her head. She meant both physical strength and the power of her faith. If only the goddess would grant her a more effective healing miracle… 

If only she’d still had the focus and vitality left to maintain a deep prayer connecting her soul to heaven. 

Perhaps Dwarf Shaman understood what she was thinking, for a tired smile came over his bearded face. “I wonder if you could carry these two no matter how much strength you had.” 

“But…” 

“Human muscles and dwarf muscles just aren’t the same, lass, no matter how many of them you’ve got.” 

In other words, this was his moment to shine. 

Even in light of his advice, Priestess couldn’t help but be stung by her own weakness. Still puckering her lips, she checked over Lizard Priest and the princess. It was the most she could do at that moment. 

Lizard Priest had always had plenty of life force, but the much weaker and more drained princess was in danger. Priestess touched the girl’s cheek gently, and the princess seemed to whisper something in response. 

“Thank you” and “I’m sorry.” 

She murmured the words over and over, as if she were talking to herself, and sometimes Priestess could make out Big Brother, Father, and Mother as well. 

Priestess looked at the princess. They were almost the same age, or perhaps the princess was even a little younger than her. Priestess, about to turn sixteen, closed her eyes as if to suppress something. 

A year and a half ago, she had been just like this. Ignorant, innocent, powerless, and above all, stupid. 

She’s…me…! 

Priestess hugged the princess’s battered body to herself. 

What had she been able to do since then? 

Was there anything she could do for the girl now? 

Could she be any use to him at all…? 

“Nothing is useless.” The low voice caught her by surprise, and she looked up. Goblin Slayer was looking around vigilantly, but he was standing near the wall. It was unusual, for him. “You must simply work with what you have.” 

“…I think what he means is, don’t worry about it. Though he could stand to learn to express himself a little more clearly.” High Elf Archer, despite her pale, sweaty face, had her usual reproof for Goblin Slayer. She would stiffen from time to time, press a hand to her side. Hopefully it was just bruised. Because if it was broken… 

“You two,” Priestess said, struggling to steady her shaking voice. “Are you both okay?” 

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer answered with a nod. “I can go on.” 

“Oh, I’m fine,” High Elf Archer added, but then she closed her eyes and looked down. 

Fine was not a word that appeared to describe either of them. 

So Priestess simply said, “Okay,” and was quiet. 

After a few minutes’ rest, with no signal from anybody, the adventurers got to work once more. They couldn’t afford to stay here very long. 

Nobody spoke. But all of them knew what was waiting for them next. 

They turned a corner of the corridor, heading up the stairs one step at a time, as if filling in spaces on a grid, heading for the surface. They fought as they went; the charge only took them twenty or thirty seconds. Despite their rest, though, it felt like it took an hour or two. 

And then finally, at last, they reached the top of that long, long staircase, where… 

“GOOROGB…!” 

“GOOBOGR! GBOG!” 

“GRROOR!” 

“GBBG! GROORGB!!” 

Goblins. Priestess shrugged, her face a mixture of fear, resignation, and readiness. 

The courtyard in front of the dungeon was filled with greenskins. They smirked at Priestess and High Elf Archer, obviously imagining how they were going to bring low the women and the other adventurers. They held weapons of every kind— How many were there? Twenty, thirty? Forty, fifty? 

“…Welp, that’s par for the course,” Dwarf Shaman said without much enthusiasm. “We weren’t very subtle about how we dealt with that greater demon’s hand. Otherwise, we might’ve gotten out of here unnoticed.” 

“…It’s the opposite of normal,” High Elf Archer said with a dry laugh. She had the same expression on her face as when they had been swarmed by goblins in the sewers. “It looks like we’re the ones who are going to get slain…” 

“Dungeons for a dragon, tunnels for a troll, and an abyss for adventurers! Heh-heh-heh!” 

“This makes good sense,” Lizard Priest said and got up from Dwarf Shaman’s back unsteadily. 

“You in one piece, Scaly?” 

“When I meet my death, it shall certainly be on my feet,” Lizard Priest replied. He made a wild gesture with his jaws, baring his fangs. It must have meant he was ready for anything—indeed, lizardmen were always ready for anything. His people always saw it as a good day to die. “So, have we any plan, milord Goblin Slayer?” He sounded downright pleased; his eyes spun in his head. 

During all this, the goblins were advancing on them step by step. It was clear they had no intention of launching a sudden charge. They were enjoying the sight of the adventurers drawing back toward the dungeon entrance. It was an absolute pleasure seeing them in the goblins’ accustomed place, looking this way and that. It was a balm to the heart, seeing those who normally hunted them reduced to such pitiful circumstances. 

All the more reason this was the perfect chance to teach them a lesson, to hurt them, impregnate them, eat them. 

Those women didn’t look very meaty. They would die quickly. That or enjoy them while they lasted. 

No, they could be enjoyed dead as well as alive. Just wring their necks and have fun with them after that. 

Wait, bury them up to their necks and see who can send their heads flying the farthest with the swipe of an ax—that would be fun. 

“GOOBGBOG!” 

“GRROOR! GRBB!” 

“GGGROORGB!!” 

The goblins drew closer, the hideous smiles still on their faces. 

Goblin Slayer didn’t say anything. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir…?” Priestess slid closer to him, looking up at his helmet. 

She felt she should say something at this moment. But she didn’t know what. There were too many thoughts, too many things she wanted to say; it was all she could do to push back the feeling that it was all going to overflow. 

So finally, she just looked up at that helmet with wavering eyes. 

It was a cheap-looking thing of metal. 

It was impossible to see the expression hidden behind the visor, but… 

“The nation will not act in this matter, nor will the army.” 

“…Right.” 

Goblin Slayer sought his footing, his attention never lapsing. He checked the width of the dungeon entrance, sank into a deep stance, and readied his weapon. 

He had found a place where the goblins would be unable to use their numbers to their advantage. 

He intended to meet them head on. 

He had not given up. 

“Presumably, they don’t even wish to be informed that a family member was kidnapped by goblins,” he said, and his helmet moved ever so slightly. His gaze turned toward the princess. 

Right. Priestess gave another small nod. 

There was a clicking sound. It came from her sounding staff: her hands were trembling. She gripped it tighter, but the sound didn’t go away. Her teeth were chattering, too. 

“Goblin Slayer…sir…!” 

As foolish as it seemed, she felt she had to do it. 

She reached out her small hand toward his rough, gloved one, almost as if clinging to him. 

He didn’t push her hand away. 

Instead, still looking at the goblins, he said, “This is goblin slaying.” 

The goblins were coming. 

High Elf Archer readied the very last of her arrows. 

The goblins were coming. 

Dwarf Shaman gently set the princess down and drew his ax. 

The goblins were coming. 

Lizard Priest spread wide his hands and tail, striking an imposing stance. 

The goblins were coming. 

Priestess bit her lip and stood fast, her sounding staff held in one shaking hand. 

The goblins were coming. 

The adventurer—the one in the cheap-looking metal helmet and grimy leather armor, with a round shield strapped to his arm and a sword of a strange length at his hip—said, “But if not…” 

The goblins were— 

§ 

“Lord of judgment, Sword-prince, Scale-bearer, show here your power!” 

§ 

—the goblins were blown every which way. 

“GOOROGB?!” 

“GBB?! OROG?!” 

A purple flash of electricity. 

The air boiled as the blade of judgment swept down from above upon the goblins, sweeping them away. The sky, which had been enveloped in dark clouds, suddenly shone like midday, a Thunder Drake growling overhead. It was almost no sound, just enough to make their ears tingle—true divine majesty. 

“Wha…?” 

“Well, now…” 

High Elf Archer could only gawk, while Dwarf Shaman gave a bit of an exasperated sigh. 

“I see—the hammer and the anvil,” Lizard Priest said with a shake of his head. “So this is what you meant.” 

“GOOROGB?!” 

“GBBOOG?!” 

The goblins, struggling to flee, were struck one after the next by lightning bolts that fell like rain. 

In the midst of it all, Priestess was looking directly at her. 

“Everyone, the goblins are not our enemy.” 

Her, standing atop the walls of the city, silhouetted against the pale blue of the dawn sky. 

“Not they, but the foul fellowship, the Non-Prayers who seek to usher the Demons of Chaos into this realm.” 

A beautiful woman, accompanied by a white alligator, a holy beast. 

The flesh of her voluptuous body was only just covered by her thin white garments. Her golden hair gleamed in the sun. The staff of the sword and scales, which she now held in reverse with the blade facing upward, was the sign of righteousness and the justice of law. 

If one were to picture the Supreme God as a female deity, she might well look like this. 

The only possible blemish was the dark sash wrapped around her eyes. And yet, it did nothing to mar her beauty. In fact, perhaps the sash only accentuated how stunning she was. 

“A certain adventurer told me thus.” To her bounteous chest she clutched a piece of paper bearing an unsightly scrawl as if it were holy writ. “Judge each and every one of them while they yet lived.” 

A great answering cry came from the city gates. Then the warrior priests came on like a tempest, literally trampling the goblins underfoot. The sword and scales moaned, and the monsters were induced to repent—when their skulls were smashed in. 

“O goddess of battle! Grant us victory!” 

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

“Lord of judgment, Scale-sovereign, Sword-prince, let there be light…!” 

“My god the roaming wind, let all on our road be good fortune!” 

“Watchman of the Candle, shine a humble flame into the shadows of our ignorance! May darkness never fall!” 

The onrushing figures, calling upon the names of their sundry gods, were certainly neither the army, nor adventurers. 

They were simply the fighting strength of the temple, who jumped to obey at a single word from a single great cleric. 

The outcome of this battle was no longer in doubt. One of the heroes who had fought the Demon Lord was present now. The deepest and most awful dungeon in all the world could hold no fear. A handful of goblins, so much the less so. There was no way the adventurers could lose. 

The goblins, who had thought they’d had their foes surrounded and now found themselves enveloped, began to shout and run. Perhaps they had it in mind to flee into the dungeon. But he met them with weapon in hand, as ever. 

“Yes, I told her,” Goblin Slayer said. He sounded somehow as if he were looking at something very bright. “But the rest was up to her.” 

Oh… 

Priestess blinked. 

She was sure, now, that she could see it. She shouldn’t have been able to see it, yet there was. 

The sword and scales held up by Sword Maiden were trembling. 

Her lips were moving ever so slightly, her teeth striking against one another time and again. 

The reason she was leaning on that alligator was because she didn’t have the strength to hold herself up. 

But… 

But there she was. 

With the morning sun at her back, its color mingling with the gold of her hair, she truly looked like a goddess. Weak with fear, hardly able to stand, terror tinging her expression—and yet, she confronted the goblins. 

Priestess realized that Sword Maiden’s unseeing eyes were focused directly on him. 

That was the answer; that was the reason. 

Priestess noticed that her hand was still clinging to his and blushed. She made to disentangle her fingers—hesitated—brushed his hand softly and, finally, pulled hers away. 

She was humiliated, pathetic, pitiful…and yet. 

I want to be… 

…a source of strength to him. 

That day, she stored up the smallest of prayers in her heart. 

One day, she swore, she would be.