Chapter 1 – A Premonition Of Destruction
Something dark spattered across the white snow.
“GOROBOGO?!”
The inarticulate howl belonged to no human. It was hideous and twisted, the voice of a goblin.
The monster flailed and struggled amid the maelstrom. A blade ran through him with the chill of ice. The monster screeched once, and then nothing more could be heard.
…No, there was something else.
Striding carelessly across the carpet of ice and snow was a single, solitary figure—an adventurer.
He had a cheap-looking metal helmet, grimy leather armor, a small round shield on his arm, and a sword of a strange length at his hip.
Stippled red and white from blood spatters and snow, the adventurer said calmly, as if he had not just taken a life: “Five.”
Merciful and cold, the beautiful dancing flakes, the snow sprites, were already covering all the bodies. Or perhaps for them, the pure white itself was beautiful, and they were simply overwriting the entire world. Soon a veil of snow would be laid over the fresh corpses.
As for him, a living goblin was a matter of great concern, but a dead one was barely worth considering. He walked through the falling snow noiselessly, staying alert while speaking in his usual low tone.
“Let’s go.”
“R-right…!”
The responding voice was frail, shaking and trembling like a ball that had been thrown forcefully against the ground. The girl who emerged from the snow behind him was pale-faced, trying desperately to keep up. She had red hair and an ample chest. It wasn’t just the cold that was making her shiver.
“A-are you sure about this………?”
“I see no problems,” he said, then thought for a moment and added reflectively, “neither for me nor in our surroundings.”
“O-okay…”
“Are you all right?”
The situation was not conducive to relaxation. Still, she forced her stiff expression to soften somewhat. It didn’t quite look like the smile he was used to seeing from her, though.
“Yeah. I’m okay…… Just fine.”
He nodded, then lowered his hips and set off at a walk, still vigilant. She followed after him with a flurry of quick, short steps. The way she kept constantly scanning the area made her anxiety all too obvious.
She stumbled on some wood, which made her jump. Under the snow were rotted trees. Rocks, too. And probably human bones.
There had been a village here, once. Long, long ago.
Not the one he and she had lived in. That land had already been put to a new use—a training facility for adventurers was being built on it.
Ruined villages could be found virtually anywhere. Maybe goblins did it, or an epidemic, or a dragon.
He knew that, and so did she.
Although he understood it fully, she had never felt it in her bones before.
Over the howling wind, the vile cackling of goblins echoed.
And now, at last, she grasped what it meant to venture where goblins dwelled.
§
“Lookit that snow!”
The window of the Adventurers Guild was all but whited out. To the elf’s eyes, it must have looked like the daughters of ice and snow were holding a dance. She sat looking outside with her chin in her hands and her long ears fluttering, a pleasant smile on her face. “This is how winter ought to be, I tell ya. Even if it means outside is cold, icy, and blasted by whistling wind.”
“As for myself, too much chill lowers my blood pressure to the point where I flirt with death.” In stark contrast, the lizardman priest was staying as close to the fireplace as he could. The other adventurers kept a healthy distance but regarded him with acceptance. After all, it had been nearly two years now since this fearsome visitor had first come to the frontier town. The only ones who goggled at him these days were the newly registered members of the Guild.
“Just goes to show you haven’t buffed up enough!” Female Knight threw open the door, looking as energized as a puppy that’s been out to play in the snow. Behind her came Heavy Warrior, Scout Boy, and Half-Elf Light Warrior, all looking exhausted. By the way they were all covered in snow, it appeared they had been forced to accompany Female Knight in her training.
Druid Girl helpfully brought over some warm grape wine, which Female Knight nonchalantly accepted. “Haven’t you ever heard of a Diamond Drake?”
“Such sacred realms are as yet far beyond me,” Lizard Priest said, breathing evenly as he leaned toward the fireplace.
“Want to…warm…up?” Without ever changing her rather melancholy demeanor, Witch did something rather unusual: she lit a flame at her fingertip. She let it loose like a fireball, and it flew into the hearth, stoking the flames to a roaring blaze.
“Ohhh, many thanks…!” Lizard Priest put his hands together in a strange gesture, as if he were worshiping a goddess; Witch only chuckled deep in her throat.
Spearman came over (Witch had hardly even gestured at him) and sat beside her with authority. “Big species gaps mean big problems,” he said. He thrust out a frothing mug of mead: Here.
“Hmm…”
“It ain’t cheese, but I bet you’ll still break out the usual ‘Nectar!’”
“Mmm.” Lizard Priest downed the contents in a single gulp, then exhaled, lost in thought. “The taste is rather unique…”
“I always find it weird how sensitive your tongue is. It doesn’t do a guy any good to have strong likes and dislikes, you know.”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, I am a carnivore, you shall recall. To eat leaves, I cannot abide.” The banter suggested that he had started to warm up a little.
High Elf Archer, seeing Lizard Priest in good spirits again, poked him in the shoulder with an “Oh” and a grin. “So what does that make us?”
“Dandelion-vores, I suppose. Talk about poor taste.” Dwarf Shaman stuck his head out from the kitchen to offer his remark.
“Forget you!” High Elf Archer shot at him, her ears sitting back. “That’s racial discrimination, dwarf!”
“You should learn to eat some meat. And you wonder why you’re still an anvil after all these centuries.”
“Don’t you make fun of me!” High Elf Archer retorted, puffing her chest out in genuine anger. “I’m two thousand years old, remember!”
“’T’ain’t anything to brag about,” Dwarf Shaman replied, stroking his beard in exasperation. To the table in the middle of the tavern he brought a huge stewpot. Inside, plentiful helpings of cabbage, potato, liver, and bacon were boiling together merrily.
“Our specialty!” Padfoot Waitress called from the kitchen with her arm raised, giving them a thumbs-up. “Rhea-made, padfoot-prepared!”
“…And dwarf-seasoned. Here, eat up.”
Steam billowed from the pot. Rookie Warrior and Apprentice Cleric, hunched with hunger and cold, came over and looked longingly at the meal. The pair had finally graduated from hunting rats, but they were still finding it difficult to make a proper living.
“Could we…?”
“…See no reason why not.” Dwarf Shaman held out bowls for the reluctant pair. The young boy and girl looked at each other, then at the steaming pot, and a second later, they fell upon the food. “Ah, go ahead and wolf it down, kids. Eat your fill.”
Then………
“Ah, phew…!” Tumbling into the Guild like a puppy was the slim and willowy Priestess. She shook herself vigorously, working the snow off her cape. She breathed on her trembling hands, sighing with relief to be inside in the warmth. “Hi, everyone, I’m back now…”
“Welcome back,” High Elf Archer said with a diffident wave of her hand. “How was the Temple?”
“It’s just so cold this year. There’s a nasty flu going around…” Priestess’s face fell.
Winter temperatures had been punishing this year. If it was just the ice sprites being more active than usual, that would at least be within the bounds of natural phenomena. As a servant of the Earth Mother, she would simply have to accept it without bitterness or complaint and try her best to deal with it…
But the spreading illness was bad enough that treating the afflicted required calling upon Priestess, who was no longer working as part of the staff at the Temple, which was something of note. Even if the person in question accepted it all simply with nothing beyond a thought of “so be it.”
“Hope it ain’t the black death or the Western Flu,” Dwarf Shaman said. “Here.” He ladled out a hearty helping of stew into a bowl for Priestess.
“Thank you!” she said, accepting the warm food with both hands and having a taste. “…It’s delicious.” She hadn’t even meant to say so; it had just slipped out—proof that she really meant it. What a joy to feel warmth spread throughout her whole body.
Is that pepper?
The slight tingling on the tip of her tongue might have been—must have been. Priestess nodded and took another sip. Then, suddenly, she looked around, seemingly concerned. “Um, where’s Goblin Slayer…?”
“And the first thing she’s worried about is Orcbolg. Boo.” The note of exasperation in High Elf Archer’s voice caused Priestess to blush and look at the ground.
“Goblin Slayer? I’m afraid he isn’t here today.”
The answer Priestess was looking for came not from the tavern but from the side of the building that handled Guild business. Guild Girl, done for the day, poked her head in as she pulled on her coat, getting ready to go home.
“Is he off on a job?”
“Uh-huh. That’s why I’m not staying any later myself.” Guild Girl giggled, ignoring Spearman, whom Witch was already dragging back down into his seat. “There are some villages that can’t make it through the winter with this cold. We’ll be loaning them provisions, so he’s helping with delivery.”
“So…the woman from the farm is involved, too?” Priestess briefly thought of the cheerful young lady who lived on the farm with Goblin Slayer. She was enamored with the older women around her like Witch and Sword Maiden, but she felt almost the same way about Cow Girl. She managed to act so…natural.
“Yes. It’s a bit of a trek, so I expect they won’t be back for a few days,” Guild Girl replied with a note of loneliness in her voice.
“I see…” Priestess nodded, then turned to look out the window. The white darkness was getting denser and denser. When she thought about how he was somewhere beyond that curtain while she herself was somewhere he couldn’t see her…
No, stop. I have to keep it together.
Feelings of unease and loneliness whirled in her mind, but Priestess shook her head.
She couldn’t work up the desire to go back to the Temple today. And it was impossible to practice slinging stones outside.
I guess I’d better just do what I can.
With that thought in mind, Priestess said, “Um,” speaking hesitantly but clearly to Guild Girl. “If it’s all right, could I borrow the Monster Manual again?”
“Ooh, quite the little bookworm,” Guild Girl said with a smile. “Certainly. Wait just a minute.”
Priestess let out a breath as Guild Girl went bounding back into the office like an excited child. She glanced over at High Elf Archer, who was smirking in her direction. “Y-yes, what?”
“Aren’t we eager.”
“That’s not true,” Priestess whispered in distress, but the High Elf ignored her.
“That sort of thing’s lost on me. I’m just no good at it. Even if I did try to read it, I’m sure I’d just stick to the famous parts. Like dragons, giants, vampires.” High Elf Archer counted off on her fingers, and indeed, those were all monsters that even Priestess knew at least by name. Thus she decided not to say anything further, but to wait patiently for Guild Girl to come back.
If they found out that the first page she flipped to was always the one about goblins, and how she started reading from there every time…
Priestess accepted the Manual, somehow feeling very self-conscious, and kept reading as discreetly as she could.
§
“Ugh, I can’t take this!”
As his niece came flying into the house with an expected shout, the owner of the farm just nodded. “I told you. Said you shouldn’t go out like that.”
“Aw, but…”
Cow Girl responded without much enthusiasm, looking uncharacteristically on the verge of tears.
Her expression wasn’t the only unusual thing about her, though; her clothes were different, too. She wore a lacy shirt that exposed her shoulders. A corset was wrapped around her waist, emphasizing her chest, and she was wearing a red pleated skirt. The outfit was not her usual work attire, nor the dress she had worn to the festival. She was obviously in her finest clothes.
And yet. The owner spoke in a scolding tone, as if he were chiding his daughter for doing something silly. “It’s winter—there’s snow out there, for goodness sake.”
“B-but I just bought this brand-new…” She stuck out her lip, but her words didn’t have the power to defy reality. Not after she had gone flying eagerly out the door and had almost as quickly come flying back in, with her shoulders shaking and the hem of her skirt rolled up…
It was cold. The skirt made it hard to walk, and it seemed liable to get covered in snow and mud anyway. And also, it was so utterly cold.
“How could I not want to wear it?”
All those factors had contributed to her rushing back inside, holding up her skirt and on the verge of tears. The owner could hardly help but be annoyed. “And if you caught a cold wearing it, what then?”
A question crossed his mind—had she started bringing people into her bed?—but he didn’t bring it up. She had never seemed the type to do such a thing. He was more than happy to see her interested in being fashionable, in going out, in doing the things a girl her age should be doing. The problem was—
—the one she’s doing those things with.
The owner let out a small sigh, trying not to let his niece see what he was thinking. “Instead of that skirt, wear some riding pants or something. And put on a coat.”
“Yes, sir…”
His niece disappeared into her room, clearly disheartened. The owner looked from the slammed door to the window, from whence he could see the armored figure standing out in the snow. He sighed again.
§
Goblin Slayer watched the insistent falling of the snow. He stood looking up at the sky, beside the cart, which was piled with cargo and, most unusually, had a horse attached to it.
“…” The breath that emerged from the visor of the metal helmet fogged white before drifting up toward the leaden clouds.
It wasn’t as though he had any special feelings regarding snow. The things his master had taught him on that snowy mountain were too brutal to be called cherished memories. At the moment, he was thinking about the difficulties of an armed party traveling through snow, about the potential dangers, and about goblins. He would have to protect the cargo, the horse, and her as well. How should he respond if they encountered goblins?
Should I call my friends?
His compunction at thinking of the girl and the others as friends was almost entirely gone now. But this “quest” was unofficial, practically a personal favor.
Better not, then.
“Sorry to keep you waiting!” He was ambushed by a cheerful voice coming through the snow.
He looked over to see Cow Girl racing toward him, her breath fogging in the cold air. The skin of her exposed shoulders was red, warm with blood summoned by the cold. She put on an overcoat to help shield herself from the elements, pulling up the hood as she ran. “What do you think?”
“If you’re not cold, then it’s fine.”
“Yeah?” She almost seemed to be having fun showing her outfit to Goblin Slayer, spinning in front of him.
“Your legs,” he said, noticing something different from before. “You’re okay like that?”
“Oh, these pants? …Yeah.” Cow Girl nodded. “Did you like the skirt better?”
“They’re both fine,” he said, low and gruff.
“Right,” Cow Girl said, weaving her fingers together as she thought. “I guess the skirt is a little heavier. And it leaves my legs a little colder.”
“Trousers, then.”
“But isn’t the skirt cuter?”
“…I’m not sure.” As he spoke, Goblin Slayer hopped up onto the driver’s bench. He gripped the horse’s reins in his right hand, reaching out to Cow Girl with his left. “Climb on.”
“Oh, sure.” Her hand—a bit large and muscular for a young woman’s—found its way into his gloved palm. With his firm, silent grasp, Goblin Slayer helped pull her up onto the bench.
Her rather large rump landed on the seat beside him with a poompf, and she chuckled, “Hee-hee.” Then she said, “Oh, what about the packed meals…?”
“The ones you made?” Goblin Slayer asked.
“Uh-huh.” Cow Girl nodded again.
“I brought them.”
“Okay, good, then.” Cow Girl puffed out her generous chest proudly, patting Goblin Slayer gently on the arm. His head bobbed up and down, and then he gave a snap of the reins. The horse neighed and started forward. The wheels of the cart creaked to life, carving ruts in the snow.
It would take them just a few days to reach the village that was waiting for the provisions they carried. A simple delivery. Nothing more, nothing less.
The world was swarming with monsters, and bandits were everywhere; there was no such thing as a truly safe journey. But that was a truism—a simple fact of life.
This was not an adventure. Just a delivery.
Even Goblin Slayer thought so.
§
The snow continued to fall. The creaking of the cart wheels was the only sound as they moved through a world gone white. At the source of that sound was a single dark figure, sitting atop the cart. Goblin Slayer continued to work the reins silently; beside him, she found she couldn’t say anything.
Or more like, I have no idea what to say…
Now that she thought about it, this was the first time she had ever taken any sort of trip with him, even one that only lasted a few days. It wasn’t like when they had gone to High Elf Archer’s village. And it wasn’t like when they made one of their regular deliveries.
So strange.
Cow Girl shifted, pulling her knees in, and let out a breath. She felt like she had been with him virtually every time she was in town. But now all she could do was sit there silently, staring at his face from the side. It looked just like it always did: an expressionless metal helmet.
I wonder what expression he’s making…?
“Hey.”
“Hwha?!” The way he spoke suddenly when she was deep in thought caused her shoulders to jerk in surprise. “Y-yes, what?!”
“You aren’t cold?”
“Er, uh, n-no… I’m fine.”
“I see.”
Cow Girl nodded, and that was the end of the conversation.
For a while longer, there was once again only the sound of the wheels scraping along the road. Cow Girl’s fingers fiddled aimlessly in front of her buxom chest. She took a breath in, then let it out. If she let the opportunity get away, then they would just go on like this.
“H-hey, uh…”
“What?” The word was brief, soft. She knew that was just how he always sounded, but for an instant she was almost overwhelmed.
“Um…” The words stuck in her throat; she closed her mouth, then opened it again. “Wh-what do you usually…talk about?”
“Usually?”
“Like, when you’re on an adventure… I mean, with your party.”
He grunted softly and didn’t respond immediately. Maybe he was searching for the words. As always.
“…Nothing in particular.”
That was all the answer she got, short and succinct.
“Oh, okay,” she whispered, and looked down. Snow was piling up on her hood, and she felt a shiver run through her body.
It was so, so cold.
“…………………Initiating…”
“Huh?” The word caught her by surprise, and she blinked.
“Initiating conversation isn’t my strong suit.”
“…Right.”
She knew that. Cow Girl nodded. She didn’t remember if that had always been true. But it certainly was now. She knew it all too well.
“So,” he said, and then he stopped for a moment. “So…I listen to what the others say, and I respond.”
“…I see.” She glanced away from him, up into the sky. She saw white flakes of snow dance down from the heavy clouds, as if coming straight for them. She saw her breath turning to steam, mingling with the snowflakes as it floated away. “Well then…”
“Yes?”
Cow Girl blinked as she looked up, then took just a glance at him. “May… May I talk? About, y’know…whatever.”
“Yes.”
He had answered twice now with the same word, but Cow Girl’s face lit up. “W-well, okay, uh…! Back when I was on break a little while ago—!”
“Right.”
“The receptionist girl and the others and I, we all played a game together. Some kind of, uh, tabletop thing…”
She sounded like she was bragging to the boy next door. Her talk wandered aimlessly. It wasn’t as if anything notable had happened. Sometimes the rolls of the dice had been good, and sometimes bad. She spoke of the weather that visited each day and of the crops and the animals on the farm.
She talked about what had happened while he’d been away. How the other adventurers seemed. Her cheerful voice bounded off the snow, disappearing into the sound of the wheels. It was still just as cold as ever, but Cow Girl no longer cared.
It wasn’t that far to the village, even with the road covered in snow. And people were waiting for them. It wouldn’t do to be late for no reason. And yet, even so…
I wish we could, maybe, spend just a little longer like this.
She shook her head at the embarrassing thought. “Oh, that’s right. It’s almost noon. If you want lunch, we should stop somewhere and—”
Creak. The cart came to a halt.
“…? Oh, you want to eat here?”
No answer.
He was looking straight ahead, and seemed almost as if he had stopped breathing. Then the helmet turned—right, then left—in quick motions. Had he glanced at her? No, that wasn’t it. His gaze had gone beyond Cow Girl, to where the snow was piling up in drifts.
“Uh, hey…?”
“This is bad,” he said quickly, grimly.
An instant later, the snow seemed to explode upward, prancing into the air.
“Eek?!” Cow Girl, frightened and baffled, was thrown sideways. Something lodged into the driver’s bench with a thunk where her head had been half a second before.
A spear…?!
Cow Girl had been flung to the ground, but she was surprised to find she didn’t feel much of an impact.
The reason was clear: she was enveloped in his arms. She stiffened when the realization hit her.
“Er, uh, wha—what…?!”
“GROORBB!!”
That inarticulate shout was all the answer she needed.
“GBB! GOROB!”
“GROBR!”
Shadow after shadow after shadow after shadow rose up from the snow, casting aside the cloths that had covered them. Hideous faces twisted with lust, they were monsters holding weapons of every kind. They were almost as large as children and about as strong and had the same cruel intelligence. They were the weakest of all the Non-Prayers, found in every corner of the world.
“G-goblins…?!”
“This way!” Goblin Slayer didn’t hesitate. He gave Cow Girl’s hand a sharp tug and set off running like an arrow.
“Wh-what about the horse and our cargo…?!”
“Consider them lost.”
We failed. The standard response would have been to ignore the attack and set the horse running as fast as possible, shaking the goblins with sheer speed. But thankfully—no, he didn’t let his thoughts go any further. The explanation for his actions was near at hand—in fact, it was literally in his hand. There was no need to think about anything else.
“One!”
“GGOORBG?!”
Goblin Slayer slammed full into one of the goblins surrounding them. Before the creature could respond, he had whipped out his sword and stabbed it in the belly. It was a vital point; the goblin died without drawing another breath. Goblin Slayer kicked the corpse away, pulling out his sword; he never stopped running.
“GOR! GOBG!”
“GBBGR!”
“Heek?!”
Flying stones, goblin shouts, spears, corpses. She didn’t know which she was reacting to.
Hearing the frightened cry from behind him, Goblin Slayer tightened his grip on her hand. He couldn’t use his shield with his left hand. And his back was exposed. He would have to push through them while paying absolute attention. What were his chances?
He thought he could almost hear the sound of dice being rolled above his head. But to hell with Fate and Chance.
Through the snow could be heard the last desperate whinnies of the horse as it was eaten alive. Goblin Slayer tossed a glance over his shoulder. He saw her face; she looked like she might cry at any moment.
He kept running. There was no other option.
“Hey— Hey… That horse…!” She tugged on his hand, her voice trembling. “The poor thing’s gonna die…!”
Goblin Slayer said nothing, only faced forward and ran.
It wasn’t that he chose not to speak. He couldn’t.
Nor could he look her in the face. Couldn’t tell her how grateful he was that the goblins were distracted by the horse. What sort of expression should he even wear while telling her such a thing? Never mind that his face was covered by a metal helmet.
Surely even she was more worried about her safety—no, perhaps his—than that of the horse. But how could he take any satisfaction from that?
“GOOROBG!!”
So he took all of that and slammed it into the goblin in front of him.
The monster was dashing along, eager to get his share, unwilling to be left behind by his companions. Goblin Slayer may have realized that, or not; regardless, he bashed the creature with his sword.
“?!”
The goblin, his brains spilled by the blade, fell over dead without ever realizing what had happened.
“Two!” Goblin Slayer grabbed the club from the monster’s belt even as he ran. It was a crude item made of bone. A femur—human, most likely.
“Ugh… Errgh…!” Cow Girl forced down what threatened to come up, putting her free hand to her mouth. They hardly had the time to keel over and retch.
Instead, she grasped his hand ever harder. If he let go—not that he would ever do such a thing—she didn’t know what she would do. Suddenly seized by the sense that she might be left all alone, she shivered because of something decidedly separate from the cold.
“Wh-what do we do…?” she asked, unable to keep the tremble out of her voice. “The frontier town… It’s over that way, isn’t it?”
“We can’t go back.” His answer was curt and dispassionate. “The goblins are lying in ambush.”
“Then…”
“The village should be nearby,” he said, and then he added, “At least, it used to be.”
Cow Girl swallowed heavily, bringing down not just her saliva but also the words she had been about to say.
With so many goblins…
…could the village possibly have survived?
She knew she would only distract him by asking the question aloud.
And then there was the snow. He might have been able to make it back to the town on foot, but she doubted she could. There was only one road.
That girl… If she…
That priestess who was always with him—what would she do?
Cow Girl had never been interested in becoming an adventurer. But now she regretted that she wasn’t. If she were, if she had been…
“They’re coming!”
“R-right!” She was snapped back to reality from her almost escapist musings. At the same moment as he spoke, there came two gruesome yells. She could hear them even over the blizzard.
“GOROGB!”
“GBG! GOOBG!”
Goblins!
One adventurer and one young woman—the goblins must have felt they had already won. They came closer, practically bursting with desire, faces alight with a disgusting joy. It was more than enough to terrify Cow Girl, to make her want to cry out. Without warning, she felt something warm run down her legs, and then she no longer knew what to do.
But he did.
“Three!”
Still holding Cow Girl’s hand, he took a big step forward, bringing the club down from high over his head.
Goblins are shorter than humans. Humans also have considerably longer limbs.
“?!”
The goblin was unable to close the distance between them before his head was smashed in and his brains were scattered all over the immediate vicinity. The corpse keeled over, swiftly hidden from view by the snow.
The price Goblin Slayer paid was that the club he was holding broke. Sometimes bone was simply fragile.
“GGBBGRO!” The remaining goblin grinned when he saw that. His enemy was now unarmed. Victory was his. He would kill this man—no, while the adventurer watched, he would take the girl and…!
“?!”
But it was not to be.
Without hesitation, Goblin Slayer jammed the shattered bone into the goblin’s eye. The shard pierced the fragile eyeball and proceeded into the monster’s brain. Death was instantaneous. The creature did a somersault, landing in the snow, where it continued to twitch.
Goblin Slayer crushed its hand underfoot and steadied his breathing. “Can you go on?”
“I… I’m fine…I think.”
Cow Girl didn’t know what was fine, though. She only knew that she must have looked awful.
“Let’s go.” He must have noticed her appearance, yet, he said nothing about it.
He’s probably being considerate.
“Right,” Cow Girl said in a vanishingly small voice and nodded, taking a fresh grip on his hand. She couldn’t imagine letting go. No doubt she had felt that way for some time now.
“GOROBG!!”
There were more spine-tingling cries. He must have noticed them long before she did.
Holding Cow Girl’s hand, he charged forward, slicing sideways at the form that appeared through the blizzard. Something dark spattered across the white snow.
“GOROBOGO?!”
The inarticulate howl belonged to no human. It was hideous and twisted, the voice of a goblin.
The monster flailed and struggled amid the maelstrom. A blade ran through him with the chill of ice. The monster screeched once, and then nothing more could be heard.
…No, there was something else.
Striding carelessly across the carpet of ice and snow was a single, solitary figure—an adventurer.
He had a cheap-looking metal helmet, grimy leather armor, a small round shield on his arm, and a sword of a strange length at his hip.
Stippled red and white from blood spatters and snow, he said calmly, as if he had not just taken a life: “Five.”
Merciful and cold, the beautiful dancing flakes, the snow sprites, were already covering all the bodies. Or perhaps for them, the pure white itself was beautiful, and they were simply overwriting the entire world. Soon a veil of snow would be laid over the fresh corpses.
As for him, a living goblin was a matter of great concern, but a dead one was barely worth considering. He walked through the falling snow noiselessly, staying alert while speaking in his usual low tone, “Let’s go.”
“R-right…!”
The responding voice was frail, shaking and trembling like a ball that had been thrown forcefully against the ground. The girl who emerged from the snow behind him was pale-faced, trying desperately to keep up. She had red hair and an ample chest. It wasn’t just the cold that was making her shiver.
“A-are you sure about this………?”
“I see no problems,” he said, then thought for a moment and added reflectively, “neither for me nor in our surroundings.”
“O-okay…”
“Are you all right?”
The situation was not conducive to relaxation. Still, she forced her stiff expression to soften somewhat. It didn’t quite look like the smile he was used to seeing from her, though.
“Yeah. I’m okay…… Just fine.”
He nodded, then lowered his hips and set off walking, still vigilant. She followed after him with a flurry of quick, short steps. The way she kept constantly scanning the area made her anxiety all too obvious.
She stumbled on some wood, which made her jump. Under the snow were rotting trees. Rocks, too. And probably human bones.
There had been a village here, once. Long, long ago.
Not the one he and she had lived in. That land had already been put to a new use—a training facility for adventurers was being built on it.
Ruined villages could be found virtually anywhere. Maybe goblins did it, or an epidemic, or a dragon.
He knew that, and so did she.
Although he understood it fully, she had never felt it in her bones before.
Over the howling wind, the vile cackling of goblins echoed.
And now, at last, she grasped what it meant to venture where goblins dwelled.
§
“Ahhhh, gosh, what to do, what to do…” High Elf Archer’s plaintive voice sounded in the tavern. Stretched out across the table, waving her arms and kicking her legs, she looked the very picture of a little child.
“…Are y’really two thousand years old, eh?”
“Sure am. How rude.”
“You’d be lucky to pass for thirteen.” Dwarf Shaman sighed, exasperated from the bottom of his heart, and took a swig from his cup.
The sun was down, and a lethargy had settled over the assembly of inebriated adventurers in the tavern.
The snow was copious, the wind powerful and cold. One would have to be in rather severe need of money to go out adventuring on a night like this.
“That Goblin Slayer, he’s got nothing but time on his hands,” Female Knight had been complaining earlier, along with other things of the sort, but now she was completely overcome by drink. She was pitched forward like an oarsman in a boat—on what was apparently a sea of drool.
Heavy Warrior looked at her and grunted, “Hopeless. You’re no more grown-up than the kids.”
He hefted her on his shoulder. In fact, Scout Boy, Druid Girl, and Half-Elf Light Warrior were nowhere to be seen. The two youngest had been sent off to bed early, while Heavy Warrior accompanied Female Knight at her cups.
“We’re gonna call it a night,” he said. “Don’t you all go getting hungover.”
“Curze you… If you’re gonna take a girl to ’er bedroom, treat her like she’s a princess…”
“Yeah—you, a princess. Riiight…” Heavy Warrior ignored Female Knight’s dreamy mumble, the stairs creaking as he worked his way up them.
“Sure thing,” Spearman said, and stole a glance at Priestess. “Don’t you need a little sleep yourself, young lady? You worked at the temple again today, right?”
“I’m okay,” Priestess said, blinking her heavy eyelids. “Something might…happen…”
“You’re obsessed.” Spearman yawned listlessly. “You could wait up all night tonight; he won’t be back so soon.”
“That’s not really why I…”
…was waiting. Priestess scratched her cheek shyly, looking down as Witch chuckled to herself. She understood how transparent her feelings were, but she couldn’t help being embarrassed. She tried to hide it by adding, “B-but you’re right; just waiting around doing nothing…”
High Elf Archer shrugged. “How about some tabletop practice, then?” She glanced over at the reception desk, which was now vacant. Guild Girl, who had left in the snow after her shift was over, was nowhere to be seen; she was probably snug at home by now. The night shift receptionist was trying to ward off sleep with some tea, mindlessly filling out paperwork. “We don’t have enough people, though, so we couldn’t go on with our adventure.”
“In that case…” Lizard Priest, who had been sticking close to the fireplace, stretched out his long neck. “…what if we were to consider going on a real adventure?”
“Not enough people for that, either!”
By people, in this case, she really meant people in the front row.
Goblin Slayer, Priestess, High Elf Archer, Dwarf Shaman, Lizard Priest. She was well aware that a party blessed with three spell casters, as they were, would be selfish to ask for much more. But it was true they only had one pure front-row member.
Priestess glanced at Lizard Priest. He was certainly stalwart himself, of course. “Without Goblin Slayer, it’s not easy, huh?”
“Dunno if we can really call a weirdo like him a proper warrior, though,” High Elf Archer said with a cackle and a note of affection in her tone.
“That’s true,” Priestess said ambiguously, unable to deny it.
A warrior, huh?
She put one of her long, thin fingers to her lips in thought, her eyes settling on Spearman. “…Er, have the two of you been partied together long?”
“Hrm?” Spearman raised an eyebrow. “Ah… Eh, five or six years now, or…a little more, maybe?”
“Yes… About, that long.” Witch squinted with familiarity and gave an amorous smile. “Something…on your…mind?”
“Well, uh, er…” Pinned in place by those beautiful eyes, Priestess jabbered and tried to decide where to look. To deny it seemed unbearably childish. “…S-sort of?”
“Heh-heh…” Evidently amused, Witch produced a pipe from her ample chest, whispered something and tapped the end with a finger. There was a foosh and a faint light appeared; Witch took a long drag on the pipe, her slim body shifting almost anxiously. Then she opened her lips as if she were giving a kiss, producing a ring of sweet-smelling smoke. “All in good…time,” she said, a laugh rumbling from her throat. “You’ll get there… All in good time.”
“…Right.” Priestess nodded resolutely, then let her eyes fall toward her glass of milk, now tepid.
But how much time was “good time”? Until she became a Silver-ranked adventurer? Or until she was no longer anxious about being left alone?
Or perhaps—until her biases and prejudices had fallen away?
Feeling as if Witch had detected that ugly side of her, Priestess brought the milk to her lips with something less than conviction.
“…Uh, got a second?” a voice called out hesitantly.
“?!” Priestess coughed and almost choked, then turned around to see two familiar adventurers.
It was Apprentice Cleric and Rookie Warrior—two people about her age who looked like they had nearly outgrown their sobriquets. The young man was wearing well-used leather armor and carrying a club (actually, a long stick perhaps a bit too narrow for that term), and he had a sword at his hip. A leather headguard hung at his shoulder. He looked nearly every bit the accomplished warrior.
As for the cleric, she didn’t look so different, but the way she carried herself was more composed and confident.
And me…?
What about her? Priestess just smiled, careful not to let the thought show. “Something the matter?”
“Actually, we, uh… It looks like we’re gonna be promoted…” Scratching his cheek shyly, Rookie Warrior explained that the decision had already been made unofficially.
“My,” Priestess said, her eyes wide, and then she clapped her hands. “Congratulations to both of you!”
“I guess, but I mean, it’s still just from Porcelain to Obsidian.”
From the tenth rank to the ninth. What about her? By fighting that ogre in the sewers, she had… No. Before that, she had been saved by him, then joined her current party; that had allowed her to advance more quickly. Otherwise, she would be in the same place as the two young people before her—if she had even survived that first cave.
But—huh? Priestess cocked her head in curiosity. She had shown him the proof of her promotion with such joy…
“Neither of you look very happy. What’s wrong?”
“About that,” Apprentice Cleric said, knitting her eyebrows. “When I told the Temple, there was a handout…”
Handouts were delivered from the gods to their followers: messages, prophecies, and sometimes commands. No one could be forced to follow them, but there were very few who ignored them. After all, what benefit would there be in doing so? Assuming one wasn’t obsessed with goblin slaying.
Thus, Priestess quickly guessed what the problem must be. “I’ve heard the trials imposed by the Supreme God can be very difficult. Is that…?”
“Uh-huh.” Apprentice Cleric nodded, despondent as a child who’s gotten lost on the road. “Go ye forth to the northern peak, he says. But…”
“We’ve spent all our time around towns, never on any snowy mountaintops,” Rookie Warrior said, his expression grim. It was true; if they went charging off right now, they seemed likely to end up dead.
Priestess put a finger to her lips with a thoughtful sound. Indeed, her party had been involved in a battle on a snowy mountaintop the previous winter. It had been a trying ordeal, one that might have been far worse for her had she not had experienced companions with her.
Truth be told, she had been thinking of simply going back to the Temple to work while she waited for him, but…
What would he do?
“…Is it goblins?”
“Huh?”
“Oops…” Priestess laughed uncomfortably and shook her head. She hadn’t meant to say that. It didn’t mean anything.
No. It didn’t mean anything, but it still gave her the push she needed. She clenched her fist, resolutely drained the rest of her milk, and took her sounding staff in hand. She could see Witch nod at the edge of her field of vision. She nodded back.
“I’d like to help you,” Priestess said, her voice cracking slightly. She took a deep breath. She spoke as if she were praying. “Will the rest of you join us?”
“An adventure!” High Elf Archer responded immediately. She kicked back her chair and jumped to her feet, her ears as straight as the arm she raised to volunteer. “I’m in! I’ll brag to Orcbolg about the adventure I got to go on while he was away!”
“…And you think that’ll bother him?” Dwarf Shaman asked, steadying the table High Elf Archer had nearly knocked over. He had gathered up the remaining food and was chomping his way through it as if to imply it would be a waste otherwise. He washed it down with a swig of fire wine, then burped noisily. “What about you, Scaly?”
“I am most flattered to see my help sought out. It happens quite rarely.” Lizard Priest spoke with his usual gravity even as he stayed close to the hearth, trying to absorb its warmth. “I myself have no objection. After all, a little cold won’t spoil the food. Ah, culture is a fine thing!”
He seemed to mean that so long as he had cheese, all would be well; High Elf Archer gave in and shrugged haughtily. “So? What about you, dwarf? A little cold shouldn’t bother you, with all your insulation.”
“A good spanking would cure you of that nasty prejudice of yours.” Dwarf Shaman brushed the crumbs out of his beard, hoisting himself out of his chair. “I’ve no intention of stopping you, but…”
“But what?” High Elf Archer’s ears flicked suspiciously.
“What do we do about the reward?”
“Oh!” The surprised exclamation came from none other than Priestess.
I hadn’t thought about that…!
What to do…? What to do?
Priestess, pacing back and forth, could come up with no answer. The bout of courage she had felt a moment before wilted. The boy and girl, too, looked like they might cry. They didn’t have any money.
Then…
“Split it, half…and half.” Rescue came in the form of a voice from beside them. Priestess looked over to see Witch winking at them like a mischievous child. “Like, good…friends.”
“…She’s right,” Spearman, who had been watching the proceedings silently, chimed in. “Best thing to do on a search like this is to split whatever you get out of it.”
“Oh, w-well, let’s do that, then!” Rookie Warrior’s face brightened immediately.
Apprentice Cleric jabbed him in the side. “What the god told us to go get, though—we can’t split that!” Rookie Warrior looked let down, but she ignored him.
“Mmm,” Dwarf Shaman said, nodding in satisfaction. “Sounds good to me.
“—” Priestess couldn’t say anything at all. She sat heavily in her chair, looking at her cup. It was empty. There was nothing inside.
High Elf Archer had gotten the ball rolling; all her friends were chattering excitedly about what they were going to do. She was happy for that. Glad that they had accepted her suggestion. But…
“…Let’s go tomorrow, when the snow lets up a little.”
The night to come was still long, the snow still falling fast.
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