Goblin Slayer - Volume 9 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Assassin In The Ruined Village

The hiding place the two of them found was a storehouse half buried underground. It must have been where some commoner kept their food, once upon a time. The whole place was starting to rot, but the familiarity of the structure appeared comforting to Cow Girl; she started to calm down. 

“The goblins have already been through here,” Goblin Slayer said, digging through the contents of a shattered barrel. Even goblins apparently refused to eat chaff. “They feel they have the luxury.” 

The two of them were shielded now from the cold outside; the storehouse could hardly be called warm, but at least it protected them from the wind and snow. Cow Girl seated herself in a corner, exhaling. “Will we be safe here?” Though she didn’t say it, in her mind, she added, At least for a while. 

“We can’t be certain.” Goblin Slayer sat beside the entrance, cradling the sword hanging at his hip. He would tilt his metal helmet once in a while to see outside. For the moment, all they could hear was the sound of the blizzard. “They’re not diligent enough to check a place a second time so soon after they’ve already raided it.” He stopped, then added, “But.” He struggled not to let the fatigue creep into his voice. “These are goblins we’re dealing with.” 

“…Right.” Cow Girl nodded, opened her mouth, then closed it again. 

Was there something she wanted to say? Behind the visor of his helmet, Goblin Slayer moved only his eyes to look at her. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” Cow Girl said, shaking her head and offering a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I see.” 

“…Hey.” 

“Yes?” 

“What do you want to eat when we get home?” 

Goblin Slayer thought for a moment. But for him, it didn’t require much thought. “Stew.” 

“You really like that stuff, huh?” 

“Yes.” He nodded shortly, then fell silent. Cow Girl looked at him and opened her mouth again, but again she stopped short of speaking. She shouldn’t, she realized. 

There were footsteps crunching through the snow. Fleet and unhesitating, just audible over the wind. 

A goblin. 

He moved at virtually the same instant the shadow fell over the storehouse door. 

“GOROGB?!” 

He wrapped his hand around the mouth of the goblin, who was letting out an easy yawn, and slit its throat with his drawn sword. There was a whistling geyser of dark blood, the spray reaching as far as Cow Girl’s face. 

“Heek…?!” She somehow managed to suppress her scream; Goblin Slayer clicked his tongue. It was by no means in reproach of her, but only of himself. The same applied to what happened next. 

The goblin had, of course, been shirking his duty. That duty, though, was to find the adventurers. He had a knife in his hand. 

Goblins, as everyone knew, had no concept of self-sacrifice, of doing anything for the benefit of their comrades. If anyone were to ever bother researching the goblin language, they would surely discover no words for such things. This particular goblin simply struck out with his knife in the throes of death. Just an involuntary convulsion of the body. 

The motion struck the rotting barrel nearby, however, and sufficed to destroy it. The piled-up detritus on top of the barrel fell to the ground with a clatter. 

“Hrg…!” To Goblin Slayer, it sounded like the rattle of dice rolling. 

Well, to hell with dice. 

“Get behind me!” 

“Huh? Er… R-right!” Cow Girl wiped the blood from her face and stood quickly, doing as he said. He kicked the corpse into the storehouse, making a space for himself. Cow Girl trembled. “We’re not gonna run…?” 

“In a moment.” 

He nimbly pulled some rope from his item pouch, stringing it in a low spot across the entryway. Then he stood beside the door with his sword at the ready, breathing steadily and counting off the seconds. 

There was cackling laughter and rushing footsteps—goblins. 

“GOROBG! GOROBGGB…?!” 

“That’s two!” 

The incoming monster stumbled on the trip wire, and Goblin Slayer brought his sword down. He sliced through the goblin’s spine; it didn’t even manage to make a noise before it was reduced to a twitching lump of meat. This time, Cow Girl didn’t scream. She just tensed, so she would be ready to react the next time he moved. 

“Three!” 

The next goblin tripped, too, and Goblin Slayer put his fat-dulled blade through the creature’s medulla oblongata. 

To kill a goblin was easy enough. The problem was doing it over and over and over. 

Goblin Slayer left his sword where it was, taking a spear from the new corpse. Another silhouette filled the doorway. Goblin Slayer set up his weapon instantly. 

“Four!” 

“GROGOBG?!” 

The goblin fell over the rope and died with a spear lodged in him. Goblin Slayer threw away the corpse, protruding spear and all, and let out a breath. “They seem to have stopped.” 

With his right hand, he was already moving to pull the sword out of the third dead goblin. He gave it a shake to get the blood off, then wiped it clean with one of the goblins’ loincloths, taking a critical look at the blade. It would stand up to a little more use. 

“…You think they’ve given up?” 

“That would certainly be easiest for us.” But he doubted it very much. He informed her of this disinterestedly, his left hand taking hers. “Let’s go,” he said. Then he added, “Don’t stop.” He sounded very serious. “Or you’ll die.” 

“O-okay…!” Cow Girl gave his hand a squeeze. “…I understand.” 

Goblin Slayer strengthened his grip on her hand, then barreled out into the snow. 

“GORG!” 

“GOROOGOR!!” 

The goblins waiting for them outside showed obvious surprise; the adventurers had moved quicker than they’d expected. 

I’ll show you. 

The goblins had been desperately trying to transport a steaming pot of boiling water. Perhaps someone among them had learned something from the previous battle about assaulting fortifications. 

“Five—six, seven!” 

Goblin Slayer’s movements were precise. He spun the sword in his hand, reversing his grip, then he flung it away. 

“GOBG?!” A goblin with a sword through his arm screamed and let go of the pot with no regard for the consequences. 

“GOROGBBGB?!” 

“GRG?! GROGBB?!” 

That, of course, resulted in three goblins writhing in pain when they were showered with boiling water. Regardless of all the snow around them, their bodies bloated with burns in the blink of an eye. There was no help for them. Goblin Slayer ran through the goblin line and grabbed a nice, warm club. 

He didn’t need to finish them himself; they would die. Goblins never helped their own. 

Goblin paladin. 

Assuming that such a figure was not present. 

“GROGOB!” 

“GOOGOBOGR!!” 

The goblins came pressing in one after another as they located Goblin Slayer and Cow Girl. They pulsated with fear at the deaths of their companions, with anger and rage at these adventurers who thought they could do whatever they wanted, with lust for the young woman. 

Under other circumstances, he would have killed them all. If he had met this horde not on the open field but in a secure location, somewhere confined, there would have been any number of ways to do it. 

“Can you still run?” he asked, and after a moment’s thought he added, “It’s okay to close your eyes.” 

“I’m… I’m okay…!” Cow Girl said between heaving breaths, running desperately after him. “I’m…getting the hang of this…!” 

“Understood.” 

But they had no margin for error. What to do? He had to think. In his pocket. Think. 

Snow. Goblins. Ruined buildings. Water. Lake. Goblins. Lookouts. Well. Goblins. Goblins. Goblins. 

“—!” 

Goblin Slayer made up his mind and charged ahead. Whatever else, he had to distract the goblins, even for a moment. It wasn’t that hard to do. 

“Listen!” 

“Y-yes?!” 

“At my waist. The dagger there—draw it!” 

“D-dagger…?!” He could feel her fumbling for the knife as they ran. “Uh…” She sounded hesitant. “This weird-shaped one…?! 

“That’s it!” Goblin Slayer lashed out at an encroaching goblin with his club. Eight. “Throw it at a tree!” 

“You’re sure?!” 

“Yes!” 

He said nothing further. He could feel Cow Girl twist. That was enough. He lifted the club and threw it at a goblin careless enough to get close. It smacked the creature in the forehead and left his neck twisted in a bizarre direction. “Nine!” 

Just as Goblin Slayer dug his hand into his item pouch, he heard Cow Girl exclaim, “Hi…yaaah!” 

The cruel blade with its bent-cross shape made a whining sound as it spun through the air. It carved an arc that the goblins followed with their eyes and ears. They were laughing. Where did she think she was throwing? What a fool. Cackle, cackle. 

He knew all this already. Cow Girl had never had any training. She couldn’t hit anything, even if she tried. 

And so the knife hit a tree root. Something big and immobile, easy to find. 

“We’re jumping in!” 

“Huh?! Hey, wait, that’s… No, don’t—!!” 

He could hear Cow Girl objecting. Still, he jumped. 

Snow came rumbling out of the branches of the tree the dagger had hit. When it was over, the goblins would have gone from laughing to blinking. 

Where did they go? they would be thinking, but the goblins would never guess. They would quickly turn to blame each other for the adventurers’ escape, and an ugly argument would ensue. 

Of course, of course. 

Not one of them would think to look in the well just nearby. 

§ 

“Heek?!” Cow Girl exclaimed as her body encountered the almost breath-stoppingly cold water. 

She blinked quickly, though. It wasn’t actually as bad as she had thought. In fact, it was warmer in the well than outside. And… 

“I can…breathe?” 

“It’s a Breath ring.” 

The speaker was close by, his words muddled even more than usual by the water. 

It was him. 

He was holding her, supporting her body as it floated in the water. Cow Girl stiffened a little at the realization, wondered whether to pull away, but then relaxed as she settled into his embrace. It would have been embarrassingly childish to struggle, and in this situation, foolish, too. She looked up at his helmet from point-blank, tilted her head slightly. 

“A ring…?” 

“I put it on your finger.” 

Now that he mentioned it, she noticed the ring glinting dimly on her right hand, the one he had been holding earlier. It must be what was keeping her safe here in this well. She had the strange sense that her entire body was surrounded by a bubble. She was still wet, though; her hair and clothes floated gently. 

She looked up and saw a circle of sky, wobbly and distant, distorted by the water. 

They were in a well. She registered the fact afresh, understood that they had jumped into it. 

“I see,” she said, bubbles coming out along with her words and drifting up toward the sky. “…Sure would’ve been nice if you’d told me before we jumped in.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “There was no time.” 

“Will we be safe here?” 

“I don’t know.” As he answered, bubbles escaped from the slats in his visor. They seemed like the slightest sign of uncertainty. “I covered the sound of our jump. And they didn’t see us. Our footprints should soon be erased by the snowfall. Tracking us will be difficult.” He listed off the factors one by one—to her, it almost seemed like he was praying—and then he added softly, “Most likely.” 

“……” 

“These are goblins we’re dealing with. They aren’t very capable. But they might get lucky. It’s always a possibility.” 

“…And if they find us?” 

“Hopefully, they will think we threw ourselves to our deaths in despair.” 

I doubt they noticed the rings. At that, Cow Girl looked at her own hand. 

They had matching rings. Cow Girl was a simple farm girl; she didn’t know what such things were worth. Livestock, crops: those were what she knew about. But this was a magic ring. It must be very valuable. 

Even so, though, the ring he had bought her at that festival was worth more to her. 

“It’s difficult to search a well for corpses. Unless that monster, whatever it was called, orders it…” 

He was wearing armor. The water was cold. Bringing them up would take time. The goblins would object. That would take more time. 

He was muttering to himself until, with another burst of bubbles, he spat out, “Luck will decide our fate. We have no other choice.” 

“Out of the frying pan, into the fire, huh?” Cow Girl whispered, and then she grinned from ear to ear. “You know what? That’s okay with me.” She rested her head against the hard leather of his armor. Her chest was so close to his, yet, she was sure he wouldn’t feel the beating of her heart. She didn’t want him to think she was afraid. “I know how hard you’re working for both of us.” 

“If it comes to nothing, then it was pointless.” He sounded like he was dismissing his own efforts. “I’m certain my teacher could have thought of something at least a little better.” 

“But your teacher isn’t here right now. You are.” Before he could object, she continued, “You’re the one who’s rescuing me.” 

“…Is that so?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“I see.” 

Good. Cow Girl nodded, then sank further into his arms. She shifted around, so that her back was against his chest, and looked up. She wished she could have seen the stars or the moon or anything, but the sky was still the same leaden gray, and it was almost noon. If they really were going to die here together, it was an awfully prosaic place to do it. 

I guess at least he can’t see my face. 

It was always she who couldn’t see him. Sometimes it was just as well to be hidden. 

“…Um, and anyway… Sorry. I apologize.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, I mean,” She scratched her cheek, unsure what to say. “I’ve just been a burden.” 

There was no pause before he replied, “No.” Cow Girl looked at him and blinked. “You couldn’t be.” 

“…No?” 

“No.” 

“I see,” she said, more little bubbles floating from her lips. “I see.” 

With a final “Yes,” he fell silent. Cow Girl didn’t say anything either, looking up at the sky. Snowflakes danced down, forming patterns on the water that she could observe from below. It wasn’t a starry sky, but, well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“You aren’t…tired?” 

“No.” 

“It’s okay—you can go to sleep.” Cow Girl tugged at her hair, spread out in the water. Down here, the color looked different, different from the usual red, and despite the circumstances, she found it funny. Suddenly, a memory came to her, of them playing in a nearby river together when they were young. It must have been summer. Not winter. “We won’t be going anywhere for a while, will we?” 

“…” He grunted somewhere deep in his throat. “They could drop a rock on us.” 

“If all we have to do is keep an eye above us, I can do that.” 

He seemed very reluctant. But after not too long, Cow Girl felt him let out a deep breath. The bubbles drifted upward. 

“…Please do.” 

“Sure.” 

Cow Girl shifted so he could relax. She kicked at the water, her body twisting as if in a dance, so that she was resting against the side of the well, facing him. The wall was made of rock, hard and cold. Far more so than his armor. 

“…” Cow Girl looked up, then stole a glance at him. His helmet was tilted ever so slightly forward, and he appeared to be napping already. It was understandable: he hadn’t stopped moving since yesterday, hadn’t stopped watching and thinking. 

“Hey,” Cow Girl whispered, so softly that she wouldn’t disturb his sleep. A few more bubbles escaped her. “…D’you want to go home?” 

She didn’t ask where. She wasn’t looking for an answer. 

He said nothing, long enough that she thought he was truly asleep, but then he replied, “Yes.” His voice sounded like that of a newborn saying its first word. “I do.” 

I see. Cow Girl nodded. She clasped her knees, round as a bubble herself, and floated there, looking up at the circle of sky. 

She truly despised goblins.