Goblin Slayer - Volume 9 - Chapter 4.1

Interlude – Of How Goblins Are Unsuited For Command

“Blargh! Haven’t you found them yet?!” In a rage, the ogre kicked over the pile of rubble he had been using for a stool. 

In the middle of a crowd of goblins who were diligently keeping their distance in hopes of not getting swept up in their leader’s anger was one who was prostrating himself as he made his report. The ogre wasn’t fond of such displays of obsequiousness, but he was fond of knowing his subordinates were completely subjugated to him. Goblin, after all, was practically a synonym for betrayer. As ignorant and stupid as they were, they thought they were the greatest things in the world, and that all others were nothing but nuisances. 

They are useful, though, if you know how to use them. 

Battle fodder, that was what they were good for. That capacity, at least, the ogre had to acknowledge. They were innumerable, and ideal for turning loose upon a foe for indiscriminate rampage. And if they did get it into their heads to rebel, there wasn’t a goblin alive who could kill an ogre. None of this would have been possible with dark elves. 

Dark elves… 

This was another item on the list of things that annoyed the ogre. 

The honored Demon Lord acknowledges one of his commanders. 

In a word, the battle had been a complete disaster. The human assassin who called herself the hero had been cutting down generals one after another, their plan dying with them. The battle in which the armies of Order and Chaos confronted each other to settle matters on the field had been lost as well, and the Demon Lord had been destroyed. The ogre, bereft of his forces, had fled to the mountains with cries of “This is not defeat!,” but— 

“Truly, the howl of a dog brought to heel.” 

Such were the words of the dark elf who had appeared before him, a man who cloaked himself in a superficial courtesy masking a rich contempt. 

The ogre’s standard response to such treatment would have been to tear the person limb from limb while still alive and then feast on his innards. But now, with his armor broken and his arrows exhausted, such a threat would have seemed comical. 

Instead, the ogre asked what business the dark elf had with him, whereupon the other man’s mouth, red as if daubed with blood, twisted into a smile, and he said, “I’ve heard a tale from a companion of mine, brought to him by a rhea adventurer in his employ.” 

The adventurer who had so brutally murdered his brother, the ogre was told, was said to live somewhere on the western frontier… 

He knew then that he had taken the bait. That he had become the dark elf’s pawn. He knew he would be nothing more than a decoy to distract from whatever the dark elf was planning. But so what? The ogre had equipment, he had troops—even if only goblins—and he would eventually have revenge for his brother. 

If he could achieve that, then it mattered not to him what else might be afoot. 

So then, why…? 

The ogre’s angry breath steamed out of his mouth. The snow just kept falling, the air was still freezing, and the goblins’ morale was as low as it had ever been. In fact, morale wasn’t even the right word. They simply didn’t want to do anything. 

“Tired of tormenting the prisoners? Eh?” 

He gave the gibbering, whining goblin a good scowl, sending the creature running away pell-mell. The goblins acted tough, sure—when they were busy abusing someone weaker than them. Argh, there was nothing to be done with them. 

No doubt their heads were full of resentment at having followed the ogre here. If I knocked down that big lummox and made myself the chief, there would be hot food and women to spare, each would be thinking. Idiocy. Idiocy that would be pounding on the insides of those tiny heads. 

I can’t bring myself to ask what they think. 

He cast his gaze on the desolate village, hemmed in by ashen snow, when in the distance, there came another scream. It sounded like a pig about to expire—but he knew it was the agonized yell of a woman on the verge of death. 

Curse and damn these goblins…! 

Perhaps he should murder a few as an example. And he very nearly did, but then he shook his head, thinking better of it. 

“Ah, yes, that’s the way.” Yes, there was another plan. Goblins, being goblins, saw things from a…lower angle than he did. “An example might be just what they need.”