Goblin Slayer - Volume 9 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – In The Cave, A Monster’s Shadow

The adventurers chose not to wait for nightfall, but to climb the northern mountain immediately. 

“Happily, we’ve expended only a single spell,” Lizard Priest said as easily as if he were talking about how to cook dinner. “I believe our best opportunity may be to strike first and bring the matter to a close.” 

There were no objections. As soon as Apprentice Cleric and Priestess had finished praying for the departed souls of the hare-boy and the sasquatches, they set out. Thankfully—if one could say that—the difficulty of this path was vastly less than the challenges they had faced on the way to the village. 

“They don’t give two thoughts to where they’re walking,” Harefolk Hunter complained from the head of the party. And indeed, the sasquatches appeared to have simply brushed aside trees as they went. That at least made the way flat and easy and so clearly marked they couldn’t get lost even in the blizzard. 

Priestess let out a relieved breath, but she still didn’t relax too much. “Is their home very far?” 

“Nah,” Harefolk Hunter replied with a hop, pointing with one furry finger. “Look, it’s right over there.” 

Through the blowing snow, a single dark point stood out against the cracks of the mountain, spreading like a stain. 

“A cave… How typical,” High Elf Archer remarked, peering at the entrance and flicking her ears. 

“Can you hear anything?” Priestess asked. 

“Hm… Is that…music?” She frowned. “Drums, I think. Just a tuneless pounding, like dwarves at a drinking party.” 

“Ah, lay off. Better than sipping daintily at our wine like a bunch of elves.” Dwarf Shaman gave an annoyed tug of his beard and slurped down some wine. “Something about it does bother me, though.” 

“And what’s that?” 

“The sprites. It’s well and good for the ice and snow sprites to be dancing, but they’ve really let themselves go. No inhibitions at all.” 

“Well, yeah, it is winter.” High Elf Archer puffed out her chest as if to emphasize what a silly worry this was, but Dwarf Shaman gave her a look as if she were human. 

“…My point is, they aren’t preparing to welcome the sprites of spring.” He sighed and took another drink. Then he passed the jug to Lizard Priest, who had been silently observing the cave entrance. 

“I thank you,” the lizard said, taking a noisy drink. “So what you are saying is that you’ve no sense that spring is coming at all?” 

“Not around here, at any rate.” 

“Mmm,” Lizard Priest grunted soberly. “A matter of life and death, indeed.” 

“So that’s why those sasquatches are riding high,” High Elf Archer said with a frown. Even among the flower-loving, nature-cherishing elves, she had especially high and bright spirits. She naturally preferred spring and summer to winter. But she wouldn’t have tried to upend the cycle of nature in order to have them. To struggle was one thing. Inventive measures for surviving the season; fine, too. But not destruction. The elves knew that no one, whoever they be, could or should control nature. Here in these mountains, a seed of Chaos was blooming, something an elf could not abide. 

“…I guess we can’t just hack and slash our way through this one,” Priestess said, concerned. Cutting one’s way through a horde of goblins was difficult enough. And much more so other monsters. 

“But listen,” Rookie Warrior said. “Controlling the seasons like that—is it even possible?” 

“Well, in strict terms, it’s not impossible… Not impossible,” Dwarf Shaman answered, taking another drink from the jug Lizard Priest had returned to him. “An especially powerful sprite-user might be able to, or one of the more famous wizards.” 

“Doesn’t sound like there’s much hope for us, then,” High Elf Archer said with a shrug. “I doubt you can stand up to ‘one of the more famous wizards,’ dwarf.” 

“Anvils can’t talk.” 

“Oh, what? It’s true, isn’t it?” 

The argument began. As it threatened to beach itself on their normal topics, Priestess gently cleared her throat. Lizard Priest took note of it, and Priestess flushed. “A-anyway… Could it be anything other than a spell caster?” 

“Lessee,” Dwarf Shaman said seriously. “Could be a magical item. With one of those, anyone could do it.” 

“I see, so that’s why,” Apprentice Cleric murmured, attracting the party’s gaze. Normally, she might have blushed, but now she was deep in thought. “The handout from the Supreme God…” 

“Hey, it said to go and ‘get’ something, didn’t it…?” Rookie Warrior added and clapped his hands. “That’s it!” 

“Well, now we have a goal,” Priestess nodded. And she couldn’t imagine the gods would look askance at them for obeying a handout. 

“In that case, the question is whether to send a scout,” Lizard Priest said. 

“Sure doesn’t look like they’re paying much attention,” High Elf Archer quipped. 

“Why trouble ourselves about it further, then?” 

Priestess, half listening to them, suddenly found herself overcome by a sensation that made the hair all over her body stand on end. She put a hand to her neck and found that the hair was indeed standing up, and she was sweating. 

What in the world…? 

She didn’t recognize this feeling. She didn’t know what it meant, but it felt like she was forgetting something, like she was panicked from forgetting something. 

“Something the matter?” Dwarf Shaman said, patting her waist gently. Priestess jumped a little. 

“N-no, nothing… Just a little cold.” 

“That right?” Dwarf Shaman stroked his beard, grinned, and chuckled a little nastily. “Well, don’t let it get to you. Y’want Beard-cutter to be proud of you, right?” 

“G-Goblin Slayer has—!” 

—nothing to do with this. The words were swallowed up by the wind and disappeared. 

§ 

High Elf Archer bounded along as if she were a rabbit herself. It was all Priestess could do to keep up, panting as she went. The only reason she was still anywhere near the scout was because High Elf Archer occasionally stopped, her long ears flicking. 

“You sure about this? Splitting up, I mean.” 

“I am. We aren’t going…to fight, after all…” Priestess wiped the sweat from her brow, trying to catch her breath. “Besides, I made them come with me last time, too.” 

The two of them were on reconnaissance. They had left behind the slow-moving Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman, while Harefolk Hunter stood watch over the cave. Naturally, they had Apprentice Cleric and Rookie Warrior sit out as well; only the two of them went for the entrance. Harefolk Hunter had insisted on joining Priestess, but… 

“It’s too dangerous alone, and honestly, I’m not comfortable going with just me and a first-timer,” Priestess explained. 

“Huh,” High Elf Archer said flatly, looking into the cave, which yawned like the jaws of a beast. “Well, if you’ve thought it through, then fine. Practically leaderly.” 

“Oh, stop that…” 

Now they were so close that even without an elf’s ears, Priestess could hear it. 

Winter’s here, winter’s here, 

our season has come. 

Ha, play your magic cards, 

cast your spells and raise your voice. 

Dice mean nothing, 

wit and strength our arms 

our arms to fight, now let us fight. 

The Witch of Ice has spoken right: 

these peaks have no need of the weak. 

The summer of the dead is through 

here proudly the black lotus blooms. 

Winter’s here, winter’s here, 

our season has come! 

The sasquatches’ song reverberated through the cave, accompanied by the beating of primitive drums, a sound much like a person being struck. Priestess shivered. The chill she’d felt earlier hadn’t left her. 

“Let’s go.” 

“Oh, right!” 

High Elf Archer strode calmly into the cave, Priestess following quickly after. 

Wish I had some light… thought the elf. 

The cave was gloomy inside, something underfoot scraping with an awful dry sound at every step. The one silver lining to having no light was that she couldn’t be sure if it was bones she was walking on. 

Obviously, they couldn’t light a fire. Unlike one of their usual goblin-slaying expeditions, they couldn’t afford to be noticed now. 

The lingering, nauseating smells were all odors Priestess didn’t recognize. Big beasts and their fur. Rotting meat and organs, and the stench of blood. A completely different set of smells from the reek of goblins and their filth. 

It was completely different, she realized to her chagrin. A reminder that this was a sasquatch den. 

Priestess realized the rings on her sounding staff were clinking. It was because of her shaking hands. 

“Oh, ah…!” 

Why? That was the thought that consumed her. Priestess forced her hands to be still. I’m scared. 

She felt a terror she hadn’t experienced even when facing down the sasquatch earlier. She was on unfamiliar ground. Walking headlong into the den of monsters. It wasn’t as though goblin slaying didn’t frighten her. But this was an adventure. 

“Noman—somehow, Noman killed my brother!!” 

The echoing wail made Priestess freeze. 

“Shh,” High Elf Archer whispered with a finger to her lips. “Over here.” She pulled Priestess into the shadows. Priestess was grateful for the warmth of her hand. 

“Spare me your foolishness!” This voice was high-pitched, almost tinkling, coming from the room just ahead. 

High Elf Archer’s ears worked up and down, and she led Priestess gently by the hand. There appeared to be a fire burning in the next chamber, and Priestess peeked in tremblingly, as discreetly as she possibly could. 

“If no man did it, are you confessing to doing it yourself?” 

A woman, white of skin and hair. The scant clothing she wore was white as well, as was all her jewelry. The only thing that wasn’t white lay just below her high-tied hair: eyes that glowed red as blood. 

The white woman was standing by a rocky outcropping, surrounded by sasquatches. The fire seemed not to be there for warmth, but simply to provide light. The shadows of torches danced here and there, playing over the woman’s body. The sasquatches were holding strange drums. 

Priestess’s eye was drawn to one in particular that looked out of place beside the primitive altar. It glinted dully in the firelight; she could tell it was made of metal. It was certainly not something a bunch of man-eating sasquatches should be pounding on in a cave. 

That’s it. She knew instinctively. That had to be what they were after. 

“Remain steadfast! After all I’ve done to put the sprites of spring to sleep, and steal the bunnies’ little treasure!” 

Their what? 

What could she be talking about? Priestess considered, then shook her head, no. It was more important to listen than to think right now. 

“But, Sis. Y’think that devil was telling the truth?” one of the sasquatches asked, nibbling on bones that might have been harefolk or human; it was impossible to tell. “That if the Demon Lord comes back, the whole world will have winter forever?” 

“One can only wonder,” the white woman answered and then snorted. “I suppose he sees it as an excellent excuse to use us for his own ends, but that’s all right with me.” 

“Er, meanin’…?” 

“We simply use him as well.” A cold smile crept over her face. “We eat the rabbits to build up our strength, and then we destroy those devils.” 

“Great idea! That’s our Sis for ya!” 

“Well, if you believe me, then beat those drums! It will all avail nothing if spring comes back!” 

“You got it!” 

And then the pounding increased. The roar was almost overwhelming, a wave of sound. No; in fact, it was like being trapped in a blizzard. Priestess blinked furiously, hugging herself as she shivered. 

With things like this… 

…It just might work. 

She didn’t know what “treasure” the woman had been alluding to, but considering what the party had available to them, there was a way. It was just like the underground ruins they’d visited once upon a time. Stupor and Silence. Put them to sleep, quiet all sound, and then, in one fell swoop… 

Priestess smiled bitterly to herself. She was just copying his strategy wholesale. 

I didn’t think I relied on him quite that much… 

“Hey, c’mon…!” High Elf Archer said sharply, pulling on Priestess’s sleeve. Her ears were laid back, and even in the darkness, she was obviously pale. 

“What’s wrong? I’m trying to think of a plan…” 

“Forget the plan, let’s go…!” 

She wasn’t going to brook any objections. High Elf Archer took Priestess by the wrist and began leading her straight out of the cave. Her grip was so tight it hurt, and Priestess’s voice slipped out. “O-ow…! Just what on earth is the matter?” 

“Didn’t you notice?” 

Notice what? Priestess cocked her head. Had she missed something about the enemy’s fighting strength, or some other crucial factor? 

“That woman—she didn’t cast a shadow.” 

“Huh…?” Priestess, proceeding toward the entrance at a quick jog, glanced behind herself. The pounding seemed to follow her, though it was quieter now. That nameless chill ran down her neck again. 

A white woman—the Witch of Ice. 

Indeed, this was altogether different from goblin hunting. 

§ 

“I don’t know who or what the Witch of Ice really is, but the ‘treasure’ she mentioned, I think it’s probably an arrow.” Harefolk Hunter’s ears wiggled when the story came out. Even back at the crevice, the sounds could still be heard. The adventurers looked at each other when they caught the singing. “My father’s arrow…” 

“Is there something special about it?” Apprentice Cleric asked. 

“Uh-huh.” Harefolk Hunter nodded. “Way long ago, a messenger of the Supreme God came to our village bearing a silver arrow and some medicine.” 

“We kept that stuff around,” Harefolk Hunter said bluntly. 

Priestess bit her lip. It was easy to picture: the brave hare-man trapper going off with the heirlooms of his ancestors in hand to save the village—and being destroyed in the process. 

A silver arrow and medicine… 

“So the arrow is lost now…,” Priestess said. 

“It need not necessarily be so,” Lizard Priest said calmly. Everyone looked at him, and he continued somberly, “What makes fearsome game so difficult to hunt is not the killing, but that you must overcome your own fear in order to hunt it at all.” 

“Meaning…” Dwarf Shaman stroked his beard. “…what, exactly?” 

“The name Witch of Ice clearly implies she is a spell caster. Perhaps she has investigated and sealed up this arrow.” 

“So it might still be there after all!” Harefolk Hunter’s ears bounced. They quickly came down again, though. “Oh, but…” 

“What is it?” Rookie Warrior asked. “There’s more to the story?” 

“It’s not just the arrow,” the hare said, hanging their head. “Dad took the medicine, too…” 

“Was it something rare?” Priestess asked. 

“Yeah,” Harefolk Hunter replied, and then spread out furry paws. “According to the legend, you need a witch’s hair and a lotus blossom, and then maybe you mix them with a black pearl or something…” 

“…‘Or something,’ huh?” Apprentice Cleric puffed out her cheeks and made a face. Priestess herself was probably doing the same. After all, the only witch around was the one they were fighting; the world was blanketed in snow; spring seemed far away; and to top it all off, they were on the side of a mountain. 

Harefolk Hunter looked disconsolate. “But without those things, they say we’ll never be able to expunge the evil…” 

“Sounds like a job for a dwarf!” High Elf Archer chirped, pointing at Dwarf Shaman. 

“Listen, you,” he grumbled, but he nonetheless started digging through his bag of catalysts with his stubby fingers. “It’s not like I carry every blamed thing under the sun in here. Let’s see…” He pulled out a bottle of dried flowers, a glistening black gem, and a long black thread. “…There. A lotus blossom, a black pearl, and a witch’s hair. If y’don’t know the proportions, we can just throw ’em all together.” 

“Oh look, you do have them.” High Elf Archer sniffed and puffed out her chest proudly. 

“Um,” Priestess added, smiling uneasily. “That hair… It doesn’t happen to belong to…” 

“Oh no, not her,” Dwarf Shaman said with a rumbling laugh. “I bought it from a Witch Hunter. He claimed she’d been spreading illness in some village.” 

“Still sounds kinda twisted,” High Elf Archer remarked with a guffaw. 

“You need what you need,” Dwarf Shaman shot back. “Unlike those of us who just fritter away our money. Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get this black lotus?” 

“Oh, please! I buy the things I want because I want them!” 

“And I’m sayin’ you’re wasting your money, Anvil!” 

Priestess wasn’t exactly thrilled to see them arguing, but she nonetheless put a hand to her chest in relief. 

“So if we can get the arrow, we might be able to manage something,” Harefolk Hunter said, bringing furred hands together happily, and Priestess nodded. 

“In that case,” she said, thinking, “the question is, where’s the arrow?” 

They didn’t have long to spend searching. The next day the sasquatches would come again, and more hare-people might be eaten. 

If we have to search every corner of that cave complex… 

It would take more time than they had. She didn’t know if it was natural or man-made, but it was clearly home to a lot of branching paths. And if the sasquatches lived there, she could imagine it having a lot of rooms. 

No time. 

Priestess bit her lip. He had told her that there was always a way, but… 

What did she have in her pocket? Was there anything…? 

“A witch, a witch…,” Rookie Warrior mused, arms crossed. Then he exclaimed, “Hey!! I’ve got it! That’s it!” 

“What’s it? Stop shouting…” Apprentice Cleric jabbed him with her elbow, then frowned even more at his yell of “Yowch!” 

“Those sasquatches will notice us…!” she hissed. 

“N-no, listen!” Rookie Warrior said, rubbing his side. “That thing! The thing we got way back?” 

“What? …Oh!” It took her a second, but then Apprentice Cleric realized what he was talking about and dove for her bag. 

Not this, not that: she practically turned the pouch inside out, irrelevant trinkets flying everywhere. Priestess picked up an old comb, brushing the snow off it with a smile. She had been the same way, once. 

“Here! Here it is!” Apprentice Cleric finally came up with a much-burned-down candle. “Our Seeking Candle!” 

“Is that magic?” High Elf Archer got up close to it, her nose twitching as if to take in the smell. “I’m surprised you have one of these. Didn’t you two have better things to buy?” 

“Someone gave it to us,” Apprentice Cleric said, unable to completely hide her shyness. “I’m so glad we didn’t use it up…” 

“So the matter is settled.” Lizard Priest looked toward them with a slow motion of his long neck. “We enter; we reclaim the silver arrow; and finally, we kill our foe.” 

Yes? As strategies go, it was simple and direct. High Elf Archer smiled pleasantly. “I don’t think it’ll be as easy as all that.” 

“But considering what we know,” Dwarf Shaman said with a gulp of wine, “do you have a better idea?” 

“I’m not a big fan of difficult things… You guys?” When Harefolk Hunter shot down that idea, Apprentice Cleric and Rookie Warrior looked at each other. 

“Well, that’s…,” Apprentice Cleric said. 

“The two of us, we’ve always just hunted rats in the sewers…,” Rookie Warrior added. 

The debate went on. It lasted for ages—no, Priestess realized, it only felt like that to her; it hadn’t actually been that long. It was simply that people get tired when an argument goes on with no conclusion. Especially in cases like this, with no obvious right answer. 

I wonder what’s going on, Priestess found herself thinking. This sort of thing had been so rare before. Why hadn’t it happened until now? There was one obvious answer. Goblin Slayer. If nothing else, he made decisions quickly. It wasn’t that he was never uncertain. Priestess had realized that during the battle in which they had burned down a mountain fortress. But even so, he decided. He acted. That had to be the key. 

In that one respect, her first party had been the same way. They could have spent time conferring and preparing. But if they had, the kidnapped woman wouldn’t have survived. And so, she thought, their judgment then had been right. 

Let’s do it. 

She clutched her sounding staff and nodded. She had already answered this question the moment she became an adventurer. 

“Let’s go in there, find the silver arrow, and finish the job.” The rest of the party looked squarely at her. Thinking fast, Priestess went on desperately, “There’s a way. I only just thought of it, but…” 

All the things in her pocket. All the possible options. 

No one objected. High Elf Archer’s ears bounced jovially up and down. “You sound a lot like Orcbolg.” For better or for worse. She giggled, and Priestess blushed. 

“Well, that’s growth, after a fashion,” Dwarf Shaman offered. 

“I am most grateful for what promises to be an opportunity to warm myself at last.” 

The adventurers all stood up. They each went over their equipment, made sure clasps were fastened and weapons were ready, and then double-checked each other. 

“Right.” Apprentice Cleric and Rookie Warrior nodded at each other. 

“Antidote!” 

“Check!” 

“First-aid supplies!” 

“Ointments and herbs, check!” 

“Light!” 

“The lantern from the Adventurer’s Toolkit, some oil, and a torch! Got a candle?” 

“The Seeking Candle, obviously… Um, map!” 

“None this time! …There isn’t, right?” 

“Nope. Now weapons and armor!” 

“Chest-burster, check! Roach killer, check! Knife, check!” 

“…You come up with the worst names.” 

“Oh, who cares? Plus, they sound cool—leather armor and helmet, check! Now spin around for me.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Apprentice Cleric turned in a circle so Rookie Warrior could double-check that her equipment was ready. It reminded Priestess of the time when he had inspected her mail for her. It was still there, under her vestments, one of her longest-standing companions. Once she had nearly lost it, but having it here now was a great relief. 

“Hey, don’t laugh at them,” High Elf Archer whispered to her, but Priestess shook her head. 

“No, it’s… It just takes me back.” 

“Oh yeah? …I guess I can see where. Time is sort of fast and slow at the same time, huh?” 

When she put it that way, Priestess realized it was true. She had been doing this barely two years. She blinked. 

“You sure about this?” Harefolk Hunter asked uneasily, hefting a rucksack. “They said something about the Demon Lord, right? That sounds like sort of a big deal. Can we really…?” 

It would be a boon to the village if the Ice Witch and her sasquatches were destroyed. But wouldn’t it be better to go back to the capital, to let the king and his army know? That would be better for the humans and their friends, he was sure. After all, who were the victims here but a few scrawny rabbits? 

The words caused Priestess to review her party. High Elf Archer shrugged, while Lizard Priest rolled his eyes happily in his head. Apprentice Cleric and Rookie Warrior were still fixated on their checklist. Besides them, Dwarf Shaman grinned over his beard. 

“Ha. You’re the experienced one here, lass,” he said. “Why don’t you tell ’im?” 

Priestess blinked again, just once, then cleared her throat gently. Puffing out her small chest as much as she was able, she turned to Harefolk Hunter. “There’s one good reason,” she said. “Because we’re adventurers.”