Goblin Slayer - Volume 9 - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Goblin Slayer, Into The Maelstorm

There was no special reason the goblin decided to go over to the well. 

Yes, he was thirsty. But mostly, he was just sick of that spitting, self-important ogre. Just because he was a little stronger than the rest of them, he thought he could push everyone around. He made them do all the work! They didn’t get to have any fun. Just work, work, work—it was the worst. 

The other idiots were all throwing themselves into the job without a second thought, so he suspected he could duck out for a little rest. Hell, kicking back in the shade for a few minutes, muttering angrily—it wasn’t anything that the others weren’t already doing. It wasn’t such an awful thing to do… 

So when he found the bucket of the well heavier than he expected, he could think of no special reason for it; he simply cursed the gods. 

“?!” 

Shortly, he stopped thinking at all, when a hand slid out of the water, grabbed him by the throat, and sent his consciousness sinking into darkness with a cracking sound. To the very moment of his death, he never believed it was his own fault. 

The goblin’s corpse was pulled into the well, disappearing underwater with nothing more than a quiet splash. Cow Girl let out a little yelp as the body came falling in, but he focused on studying their surroundings. 

He being Goblin Slayer. 

“Good. Come on up.” 

He had climbed out of the well and stood there dripping, observing their silent environment. He summoned Cow Girl in a soft voice; she gave a small nod, then nervously took the rope and began climbing up the wall. Despite the handholds, the side of the well was slick, and she couldn’t let go of the stiffness that came with her anxiety and fear. Just when she thought her hands wouldn’t move anymore, a glove reached out and caught her, then pulled her the rest of the way up. 

“Th………thanks.” 

“Yes.” 

He said nothing more, but crouched low and began walking quickly. He didn’t speak, but Cow Girl saw the implicit instruction to follow him and did so. In any event, she didn’t want to contemplate what might happen if they were separated. It made her very obedient. 

There was a tremendous uproar coming from a village, not too far away but not that close. It was obviously that monster, shouting at his goblins. They didn’t have much time. 

Cow Girl saw that he was moving away from the direction of the sound, so she thought they might be anticipating a minor retreat. It was an expectation she knew would be betrayed. He would never leave any goblins alive. Hadn’t he told her as much not long ago? 

“……The lake…?” 

“That’s right.” 

They were back at the frozen lake they had visited earlier. He crouched down, pulled out his knife in an icepick grip, and drove it into the ice. Cow Girl, unsure what else to do, sat down heavily next to him. Her soaking body began to shiver, though she thought the ring was supposed to keep her from feeling cold. 

Oh yeah. I’ve gotta dry myself off. 

That was something else he had said earlier. She would get frostbite. 

Still, she was too embarrassed to take off her clothes here, so she did what she could by wringing out the hem and sleeves of her clothes. It produced a copious amount of water. Her clothing clung uncomfortably to her skin, and her wet hair was tremendously heavy. 

“…Are you okay?” she asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Not drying your body.” 

“Yes,” he answered distractedly, with a slight nod. “I will soon warm. I’m fine,” he said. Then he added, “Soon.” 

“Yeah…?” There were a lot of things she didn’t fully understand about what he had said. 

Cow Girl hugged her knees, curling up into a ball, giving little shakes of her body to chase away the cold. No…not so much the cold. Mostly the fear. 

Despite her sopping clothes, she could just feel a hint of her own body heat. But there hardly seemed enough of it to take comfort in it. 

“Hey…” 

That’s why, finally, hesitantly, she called out to him. There was nothing else she could do. 

“What?” His voice was quiet; his hands worked ceaselessly, and he didn’t turn to look at her. 

Cow Girl gazed into space, hoping to find words for what she wasn’t even sure she should ask, but finally she buried her forehead in her knees and said, “That monster… He said something about you killing his brother…” 

“Yes.” 

Cow Girl swallowed. “Is it true?” she asked in a small voice. 

His response was curt. “I don’t remember.” 

“So it might be a…a misunderstanding. Mistaken identity…?” 

“He doesn’t remember whom he has killed either.” 

She had been hoping for something, however distant, with her question. But he undercut that hope. 

“Makes no difference to me.” 

“I see.” The murmur was soft on Cow Girl’s lips. “Sure, of course not.” 

At length, he took the ice he had carved away and sculpted it further with his knife, then tossed it to her. 

“Eep!” Cow Girl exclaimed at how cold it was, but then he also passed her a relatively dry cloth. 

“Polish that.” 

“Th-this thing?” 

“I’ll make several more.” 

“Uh, sure, right…” 

And then? She swallowed the question and began polishing. He went back to silently hacking at the ice. 

She didn’t know how long they spent that way. She had just set down yet another piece of ice when he finally glanced up. 

“Looks like the storm has let up.” 

“Now that you mention it…” Cow Girl blinked and looked at the sky. Beyond the white clouds above them, it was possible to see the sun. 

“I wouldn’t count on the gods’ dice rolling in our favor, but…” 

“This is a good chance.” After the whisper left his mouth, he picked up the pieces of ice that Cow Girl had polished. 

“I’m going,” he said brusquely. “You, leave the village.” 

“What…?” Cow Girl blinked. The frost on her eyebrows tingled. 

“I’ll make a commotion. They will focus on me. With any other nest, some might be able to flee, but…” He adjusted his grip on the slippery ice, muttered something about the terrain of the village, and then finally continued dispassionately, “Thankfully, that whatever-it-is is unlikely to allow that. You should be able to escape.” 

She could have predicted he would say this. Escape—that was why they had been running all this time. And now he was going to kill. 

Just like always. 

“…Okay.” And so Cow Girl didn’t argue, but simply nodded. Just like she always did. “I’ll go home then… I’ve got to make a nice, warm meal for you, after all.” 

“Yes,” he said shortly, and then he began walking slowly down the snowy path. To her surprise, she couldn’t hear his footsteps. 

For a few moments, Cow Girl watched him intently as he walked away from her. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. What could she even say? Something that wouldn’t burden him. Do your best? He always did his best. 

There were the things she wanted to ask. The things she wished he would say. After a beat of hesitation, Cow Girl said, in a voice that threatened to be swept away by the wind: “You will come home, won’t you?” 

He didn’t stop. He just went silently on. 

There was no way he had heard her. Well, in that case, there was no other choice. Cow Girl rubbed her eyes, nodded, then turned slowly around. She had to get out of here, quickly—find a village somewhere, tell them what was going on, get help. 

Just as she began to jog away, something overtook her. 

“I don’t intend to lose.” 

A few brief words in a quiet voice, spoken dispassionately—his words, his voice. 

That’s right: that’s how he always was. 

Argh, he has no idea how I’m feeling. 

She let out a breath, gently, then set her face and started off into the snow. 

§ 

Even after they had set up camp in the village, even with the captives and his troops close at hand, still the ogre felt nothing but anger. 

“GOROGB!” 

“GGOBOGGGR!!” 

The goblins laughed hideously as they had their way with a prisoner. They had no sense of restraint; they would go on until the light faded from her eyes and they killed her. 

It was just the same now. The monsters were cackling and brandishing a sword at her, so he glared at them to shut them up. 

Argh, goblins are only good for battle fodder. 

They showed no inclination to follow orders of any kind, but let them see a bit of rage, and they would instantly fall into line. Even then, they were probably mentally sticking their tongues out at him. Those were goblins for you. 

Kobolds would make better servants! 

Even as he privately managed to malign both goblins and beastmen simultaneously, the ogre looked at his army with profound anger. These cave dwellers were inherently all but unqualified for aboveground work, but they were all the ogre had, another fact that irritated him. 

“So slow…! I gave them a deadline, and it’s almost here…!” He looked up; he could see the hateful sun in the cloud-whitened sky, searing his eyes. He didn’t know what those idiotic giants and that icy witch up on the mountain were doing, but the blizzard seemed to have stopped. 

That made the ogre angry, too, his seat creaking underneath him. 

Each and every one of them—all so incompetent…! 

“GOBGR! GOOBOGR!” 

“Oh, be quiet!” 

A goblin approached him, bowing his head in supplication. There to sound out how he was feeling, perhaps. The ogre let him know by kicking him away. Then he picked up the jar the goblin had been holding, which came rolling toward him. It was a jar of wine sealed with clay. It sloshed when he shook it; there was still something in there. 

The ogre pulled out the seal and drank it down in a single gulp. 

“Still coming for me, adventurer…?!” 

“…GOBBG.” 

“What, are you afraid…?” He ignored the goblin’s half-hearted obedience and contemptuous glance, tossing aside the empty vessel. If this was what it came down to, then so be it. It only went to show that the adventurer was a cheat and a coward and a weakling. The ogre would finish things here, then assault the town, find him, subject him to every humiliation imaginable, and finally kill him. He would murder the adventurer’s entire family before his eyes, rape them, eat them, make him beg to die before he indulged them. 

Or perhaps he would break every bone in the man’s body. The man’s cries of Save me! would turn to a pitiful mewling of Kill me quickly. 

The ogre licked a few drops of wine from his lips, took up his war hammer, and stood. 

“Looks like you’ve been abandoned,” he said to the women on the crosses, but their response was muted. Just a quiet “Ah” or “Ugh,” and a faint shiver against the cold. But the ogre noticed it: the slightest flicker in the women’s dull, dark eyes. 

That was the most you could expect from humans. They might wish to die, they might give up on everything, but it wasn’t going to happen. The ogre snorted and picked up his hammer with both hands. 

“I’ll do you a favor,” he said. “You can tell me which one of you wants to die first.” 

He didn’t mean die quickly or easily, of course. The women just managed to look at each other. 

They each wished to die quickly. But they didn’t want to die. Let someone else go first. But they didn’t want to say that. 

“What’s the matter, can’t decide?” The ogre snorted again, then gestured to his goblins with a sharp jerk of his chin. 

“GBOORG!” 

“GBG! GOORGB!” 

Where was that contempt of a few minutes ago? The goblins smiled their monstrous smiles and swarmed the women. Screams of “Nooo!” erupted as they felt the creatures massing at their feet. 

“Hurry up and pick, or I’ll let them handle it. Just think how that adventurer will rue the sight of your bodies—” 

Shff. There was the sound of snow being kicked aside, a footstep. 

“……?!” 

The goblins didn’t stop. But the ogre saw it. The women, too, raised their heads feebly. 

It was a dark shadow. 

It emerged from among the battered and ruined houses and headed in their direction. 

Walking toward them nonchalantly, almost leisurely, was a pathetic-looking adventurer. He wore grimy leather armor, a cheap-looking metal helmet. At his hip was a sword of a strange length, and on his arm was a small round shield. 

My brother was killed by the likes of that? And I was sure they said there was a girl with him… 

Well, whatever. It was a goblin report. You couldn’t trust them. 

The ogre held up a hand to stop the goblins and, obviously pleased, said, “I’m impressed you’ve made it here by yourself. A little late, but…well, I’ll forgive you.” 

The man didn’t say anything. He seemed to be just standing there, the helmet unmoving. Was he afraid? The ogre snorted. Fine. If he was, then fine. 

“I am not like you. If I used my hostages as shields, it would be a trivial matter to wipe you out. But then it would be meaningless.” The ogre hefted his hammer slowly, pointing at the adventurer with a haughty gesture. “Instead, I’ll give you a chance to fight. This is revenge for my brother, and I want your death to be…elaborate.” 

“I don’t care why you’re wrong, but you’re wrong,” the man said softly. “It is you who will die, and I who shall slay.” 

“Like a barking dog, you adventurer!!” 

At the ogre’s order, the goblins screeched and surged forward. 

Goblin Slayer drew his sword and charged into the maelstrom. 

The battle began. 

§ 

“Hraah!!” 

“GOROGB?!” 

The flash of Goblin Slayer’s sword sliced through the goblin’s nose. Black blood exploded against his visor as he kicked the goblin away and moved forward. 

“GOROOOGB!” 

“Hmph…!” As the next opponent jumped, he met him with the shield on his left arm. 

“GORGGB?! GOOORGB?!” 

The sharpened edge smashed into the monster’s eyes; the goblin stumbled back screeching and tumbled into the snow. The first one, and this second, might still be alive, but life wouldn’t be worth much to them. If a goblin’s life could ever be said to be worth much… 

“……” Goblin Slayer shook off the blood that dribbled from his weapons, then looked slowly around. 

“GOROO…!” 

“GBGR…GBBG!” 

The goblins growled, backing up a step or two. 

This shouldn’t have been possible. Their enemy was just one man. They were many. And behind them was that lumbering brute, shouting and threatening them. 

That being the case, the adventurer should have taken fright, or charged them desperately—any adventurer would have. They were so stupid, after all. As far as the goblins were concerned, everyone but they themselves were complete idiots. All of them thought so. 

That was what made them angry. That was what made them scared. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else but them who wasn’t stupid. 

An unsteady circle was forming with Goblin Slayer at its center. Each of the goblins was confident, though he had no proof, that he and he alone would not meet a grim fate. That baseless confidence slowly turned into fear: he wanted himself alone to avoid this fate. In all the world, there is no such thing as a brave goblin who feels no fear. Each thinks only of his own gain, of triumph, of gloating over his opponent. Otherwise, why would they attack people? Why would they seek to steal from people? 

“GOORGBB?!” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t even turn around at the attempted ambush; he simply took his sword in a reverse grip and drove it into the creature’s stomach. The goblin whose innards were now so violently disturbed collapsed, howling in pain, his guts pouring out on the ground. Goblin Slayer took a step forward, and all the goblins in front of him took a step back. 

The snow had stopped falling. The wind had stopped blowing. The white blanket over the ruined village was streaked with blood, and it would no longer be covered over. 

“GOBR…” 

“GBBBRG…” 

The goblins looked at each other, uncertain. This was not what they had expected. Should they all attack at once? But who would make the first move? They worked their nasty little brains in a struggle for control. It was the second, or the third, goblin to act who had the most to gain. Nobody wanted to be first. But… 

“What’re you so afraid of, you little slobs…?!” 

One of the monsters standing at the outer edge of the ring was suddenly swept away with a shout and a war hammer. It was, needless to say, the one belonging to the ogre. He gave a frustrated swing of his hammer to shake off the blood, then bared his teeth, enraged. “If you can’t even serve me as skirmishers, then serve me as a warm-up!” 

His blood was coursing hot at the prospect of revenge. His eyes shone, causing the goblins to quail. 

“GGORG!!” 

“GOR! GGOOBOG!” 

With enemies both before and behind, the goblins began to wail. If they didn’t rush the fool, then all that waited for them was death. And they didn’t want to die. Nobody does. This was all that adventurer’s fault, they were sure… 

“That adventurer” didn’t miss the instant of opportunity this provided him. 

“Fools,” Goblin Slayer spat, then assaulted the edge of the ring, battering enemies with his shield. His size and his equipment gave him such a weight advantage over the goblins that one or two of them were never going to stop him. 

“GOOBG?!” He bowled over one goblin, stomping on him as he went past, breaking two or three of his enemy’s bones but never slowing down. 

“GRGG?! GBGO?!” 

“GOOROGOGO!” 

The goblins couldn’t abide this; they swarmed forward, as many of them as were able, using their allies as shields. It would be fine: the adventurer’s attacks would hit someone else. They would just need to kill him while he was distracted—! 

“One…!” 

“GOOBG?!” 

They had the right idea. Goblin Slayer’s sword stabbed the first goblin to reach him through the throat; so much the worse for him. The second and third goblins went flying at Goblin Slayer, even as they chuckled about the way their companion was drowning in his own blood. 

“GOR?!” 

“GBBGR?!” 

However… 

When the one in front raised his club, he raised it so far that he bopped his companion behind him on the head; his companion then gave him an angry kick. 

The swing of the broadsword from behind, meanwhile, bit into the shoulder of the companion in front; he began howling and flailing in pain. 

“Hmph!” 

“GOOBOGR?!” 

While they were fighting, Goblin Slayer worked his way closer to the outer edge of the circle. He swung a sword that still had a corpse on it, letting it go and taking out two or three more goblins with it. He jumped into the space he’d created, punching a goblin in the face with his free right hand. 

The creature yowled and staggered backward, whereupon he grabbed the sword from its waist and lobbed it at a goblin farther along. 

“GRGB?!” 

“Two!” 

The goblin fell back with a sword sprouting from his throat. Goblin Slayer used him as a stepping stone and ran on. 

Step on the body, kick off. Height, not very high. Hang time, not very long. While you were in the air, you couldn’t move easily; you were defenseless. 

“GOOG?!” 

“This makes three!” 

He landed on a goblin as he hit the ground, breaking its spine. But it was not over. Goblins continued to press in around him. They clanged their weapons, spat and shouted at each other. Goblin Slayer swept with one leg out of a low stance. 

“GOBGR?!” 

One goblin, unfortunately for him, tumbled forward—and of course, there was another behind him. So then, what happened? 

“GR! GOROOGB?!” 

“GOBB?!” 

He was crushed, naturally. And the one who crushed him lost his own footing. So what about the one behind him? 

“GOROG?!” 

“GOOBGGG?!” 

Stumble, step, flail, struggle, get sucked in, and fall—it happened to several goblins in a row. 

Goblin Slayer, still in his low stance, managed to vault over the confusion in an instant. 

“GOOB?!” 

Neither did he neglect to borrow a club from one of the writhing goblins as he went by. 

“Damn fool goblins…! How can I have so many of you, and you still be so useless?!” The other monster, whatever it was, was very angry; Goblin Slayer heard him in the distance while he himself bashed open the skull of a fourth goblin. 

“GOBBG?!” 

Four. He brought the club back, raised it up to intercept the next strike, and used the momentum to lash out again. The goblin, momentarily flummoxed by having his weapon batted away, presently found himself slammed back into his companions. There was some taunting, and he stopped moving. Goblin Slayer grabbed the hand spear the goblin had dropped, throwing it into the group and trusting he would hit something. 

“GOBBGRRG?!” 

A goblin who now had a spear lodged in his chest fell backward, taking some of his companions with him. As they shoved the body away, they were briefly immobilized again. 

Goblin Slayer picked up every weapon they dropped and started flinging them in every direction. 

It was all just repetition. Gods, wherever he looked, it was goblins, goblins, goblins. He could swing his weapon at random and kill something. 

One thing Goblin Slayer could not do: face down an entire army on an open field and prevail. Luckily, goblins had no concept of proper massed tactics. At least so long as there was no goblin lord among them! 

“GOOGG?!” 

“That makes twelve!” Goblin Slayer said, obviously controlling his hate. 

Friendly fire. Frustration. Fear. Anger. Chaos spread like falling dominoes. And all the while, Goblin Slayer worked away at the increasingly tattered net. 

“Adventurerrrr!!” 

Waiting for him was that massive monster. Goblin Slayer kept his eyes fixed on the creature, running in a beeline like one of High Elf Archer’s arrows. 

There was that huge hammer, which must have taken so many lives. The metal glinted dimly in the reflected light from the snow. One hit from that would probably be critical. Just like in that fight long ago, he couldn’t assume he would survive such a blow. 

And what did he have? A club, a shield, and a handful of miscellaneous items in his pouch. 

No problem. 

Goblin Slayer was so low to the ground he was practically lying down, but he continued to pick up speed. 

“Diiiieeeee!!” The war hammer came down. It produced a moaning wind as it sought to crush his skull and shatter his spine in a single strike. In that bare instant, Goblin Slayer slapped both his hands against the ground. Mud and brownish snow jumped up like a spray from a puddle. 

Did the force of the hammer cause it, or was he just trying to stop in a hurry? Regardless, the effect was the same, and immediate. In the nick of time, and by a hair’s breadth, the gleam of the war hammer was buried in the ground in front of Goblin Slayer. 

Soft! 

While the ogre tried to dislodge his hammer from the mud, Goblin Slayer sprang into action. His path changed—like one of High Elf Archer’s arrows. 

“Ngrrrr!!” the ogre roared. The hated adventurer was using his prized hammer as a launchpad, a step stool, to get above him. It was deeply shaming for the ogre. He switched his grip on the hammer, preparing to deal a blow to the adventurer in his pitiful gear. 

But Goblin Slayer couldn’t care less about the feelings of a monster whose name he didn’t even know. Of course not. The moment he hit the ground, he rolled to neutralize the impact, then jumped to his feet and kept moving forward. He was moving—not toward the monster, not even toward a goblin. 

“Oh…” 

“You’re alive.” 

Her voice was so soft, and Goblin Slayer’s response so short. The woman nailed to the cross blinked. From behind him came the howling of the ogre and his goblins. Time wasn’t even short; it was nonexistent. Goblin Slayer used his scant few seconds to tell the woman something. 

“This will hurt, but then it will be over.” 

“…Ergh.” The woman nodded weakly. With a cruelly mechanical motion, Goblin Slayer tore the woman from her cross. “Wah, ahh…?!” 

The woman convulsed as the nails ripped through her flesh. Goblin Slayer put her over his shoulder. There was another. He jumped to one side, sliding through the snow to get himself moving toward her. 

“You filth!! Consorting with prisoners—looks like you’ve got all the time in the world, eh!!” The ogre slammed his hammer into the ground, looking as if he could kill with a glance, with one brutal smile. 

“Not especially.” As he made this quiet response, Goblin Slayer swept out with a hand that had been in his item bag. 

“Grah?!” There was a dry clack as something bounced off the ogre’s face, and flecks of red scattered like snowflakes. The monster cried out and pressed a hand to his face, stumbling backward. 

It was an eggshell, packed with pepper and other blinding agents. No matter the monster, eyes and noses always made convenient targets. 

“What’s this, some childish…prank?!” 

The ogre had underestimated him. Taken him too lightly. Just like goblins did with those they thought were weaker than themselves. The ogre was seeing red, literally and figuratively, and he gave a great, careless swing of his hammer. 

“GOROOGB?!” 

“GOB?! GOGR?!” 

He felt flesh crush and tear. But it was only goblins, filling in for Goblin Slayer. The adventurer, who had used his shield to shove the goblins in the ogre’s direction, continued to head for the next captive. He wasn’t quick, as he already had one former prisoner over his shoulder. He was, though, outside the circle. On the side with the ogre, shouting angrily and flinging his weapon around. The goblins could only watch from a distance, and Goblin Slayer took full advantage. 

“Here we go.” 

“O…kay…” This woman answered him with strength in her voice, and when he tore her off her cross, she bit her lip and bore it. 

Now the prisoners were free. Carrying them like casks on his shoulder, Goblin Slayer turned to face his enemies. 

His movements would be slow now. He had only one hand free. He doubted he could use a weapon. If it came to a fight, he would probably lose. 

He didn’t have to save them. He could have abandoned them. But the thought never crossed his mind. If it was do or do not do, then he would do. That was among the first things he’d been taught. 

“Half-wit of an adventurer… Is that how you wish to die?” The ogre, having finally brushed the blinding powder from his eyes, twisted his lips into a sharklike grin. 

Humans were all fools: that was what the goblins said, and for once, they were right. They would waste time rescuing hostages—whether out of some concern about what people would think of them, or out of their own terminally soft hearts, it didn’t matter. There were a few who would have abandoned the captives, but the likes of them would soon fall from the path of Order regardless. 

As for which category this adventurer fell into, it was clear to see. And to send his type into the depths of despair, that was the greatest joy of Non-Prayer Characters. 

“Very well. As you wish—I’ll kill you while those girls watch. It’s their bad luck that their would-be savior was such an idiot…” The ogre began to lumber forward. Goblin Slayer didn’t respond. He just looked up at the sky. Beyond the whiteness of the clouds, the sun could be seen shining. It was past its zenith. It was shining as brightly as it ever would in this season. 

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. 

“GGBBOOR?!” One goblin gave a confused shout. Several more, following him, looked at the sky. 

It was smoke. Smoke was rising. They could feel heat on the wind. Red tongues were licking the heavens. 

Fire. A conflagration. 

“GROG?!” 

“GGOOBOR?!” 

“Wha…?!” The ogre was all but speechless. Fires had broken out all around the village. He ignored the goblins, who were busy each trying to foist on the others the responsibility of dealing with the fires. The haft of his hammer creaked in his hand. 

This bastard had reinforcements?! 

As the ogre goggled in amazement, Goblin Slayer spat, “Who would ever take a fair fight with the likes of you?” 

The smoke billowing on the wind was already starting to envelop the village square. The thin, inky strands blocked the sight of even those who could see in the dark. He felt the heat. If he could block their vision with the fire-warmed smoke, their advantage would be undone. 

The ogre couldn’t have known. 

He couldn’t have fathomed that Goblin Slayer had taken the pieces of ice that he had cut and Cow Girl had polished, and had placed them in various locations around the village. That while he had been waiting, encamped, for Goblin Slayer to appear, the adventurer had been calmly laying a trap. Or that sunlight focused through a piece of ice could achieve temperatures high enough to start a fire. Or that the dry wood of these houses, along with pieces of wood and buried branches, could burn perfectly well in spite of the snow. Or that this man knew a thousand and one ways to interfere with goblins’ ability to see in the dark. 

“I don’t care what kind of monster you are.” 

The goblins were in an uproar, terrified; the ogre held his war hammer in shaking fists. The smoke rose, soot and embers dancing past. Half obscured by the curtain of ashes, the adventurer spoke calmly, dispassionately. His voice never once cracked or rose, almost mechanical. 

“But I am going to kill all the goblins.” 

§ 

Goblin Slayer ran through the curls of smoke and twists of fire, the women still slung over his shoulders. 

“GOORGB!” 

“GB! GOR!” 

All around them was the hideous gibbering of goblins. But while the monsters could see in the dark, smoke still blinded them. It did the same to the ogre, who could be heard raging and smashing the already-ruined buildings around him. The women twitched with fear at every crack and roar, but Goblin Slayer paid them no mind. Every second, every instant was precious. They were already outnumbered. They absolutely must not lose the initiative. 

Goblin Slayer let go of the women’s bodies for a fraction of a second, rifling through his item pouch. He withdrew a handful of small, sharp stones and scattered them on the ground behind him. 

“GOORGB?!” 

“GGBB?!” 

The goblins pursuing them—Goblin Slayer had simply assumed they were there—cried out in pain. Foot wounds would slow them down, make it harder for them to go through or around the fires. 

That’ll finish off a few of them. 

Next, he threw a pebble in a random direction. It bounced off something metal, ricocheting away. 

“GGOBR!” 

“GORB! GGBRO!” 

Several goblins could be heard to shout and run off in the direction of the pebble. Without hesitating, Goblin Slayer flung his dagger toward them. 

“GOOBRG?!” 

A scream. Probably pierced through the throat. The correct height was burned into his memory. He was accustomed to fighting without being able to see. But not so the goblins. No goblin imagined he might find himself in such a situation. 

There’s no reason not to reduce the enemy’s advantage. 

Such was what Goblin Slayer had determined, and he was pleased with the results. 

Then, while the goblins were busy being confused, Goblin Slayer made for a well he had spotted. 

“I’m going to put you in here now.” 

“…Wha—?” 

A frightened voice. The slayer of goblins quietly assured her things would be fine, then placed rings on the women’s bandaged hands. 

“You’ll be able to breathe. It’s unlikely they will find you. Until things quiet down, hide here and wait.” 

“…Ah… Mmm…” 

He saw the slight nods from the women, then seated them in the bucket in the well and lowered them down. There came a heavy sound of something hitting the water, then a second. The goblins all around, though, weren’t listening for such things. They probably didn’t even notice. 

That will do. 

If his old friend had managed to alert anyone, then adventurers would be coming. Considering the situation, they wouldn’t send anyone untutored enough not to look for survivors. He could be confident that even if he happened to die here, those girls would be saved… 

“………Mmm.” 

When his thoughts reached that point, Goblin Slayer grunted softly. He might die. It was only appropriate to plan for such a happenstance, and it was nothing he could complain about now. And yet, suddenly, he found thoughts of Cow Girl and Priestess, Guild Girl, all his friends and companions, flashing through his mind. 

Would they be sad? Most likely. Others, too. But it was perfectly common for an adventurer to die. He was confident that they would drink some wine, start chatting and laughing, and one day, they would be able to go back to their ordinary lives. 

“Perfect,” he whispered. He could not wish for more. To be treated as an adventurer! 

“But it may not be today.” 

Goblin Slayer cast aside his happy imaginings, returning himself to reality. Death—death itself was something to accept, but he did not intend to die. The two were very different. 

“Now, then…” 

He checked his weapon and equipment, reviewed the mental map of the village he’d been careful to make. 

“GGBORB!” 

“GOROOBG!” 

Goblins yelled from every direction. It didn’t mean much. But he could also hear the ogre braying. “Lost your nerve, adventurer?! You and your tricks… That’s all that gave you victory over my brother!!” 

“I agree.” Goblin Slayer didn’t know who this brother was, but he always used tricks, so he was sure the ogre was telling the truth. 

He picked up some of the mud and melted snow at his feet and threw it in the direction of the shouting. There was a wet slap, and the ogre roared out, “There you are!!” 

“Here I am,” Goblin Slayer murmured, and then he spun on his heel and ran. 

Run, run, run, run. Run like a sword cleaving the smoke, run for one place. 

It was obvious that the goblins—and even the whatever-it-was leading them—didn’t know the geography of this village. 

I knew they were idiots. 

The monster followed along blindly, with no idea where his quarry was taking him. 

A moment later, the smoke cleared abruptly. They had come to a space open enough that it had somewhere to go. The ogre blinked the last of the smoke from his eyes, then took an earthshaking step forward. There, at last, was the adventurer. His grimy leather armor, his cheap-looking metal helmet, that sword of a strange length, that round shield on his arm. A pathetic man; a novice would have better equipment. 

“Lost the women, adventurer?!” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t answer, but slowly slid back, step by step, measuring his distance. 

The ogre took this for fear and laughed like he had found new prey to devour. “I know what happened! You abandoned them when they got too heavy! Dropped them like a couple sacks of flour, you miserable wretch!” 

Behind his visor, Goblin Slayer grunted softly. Goblins were pouring in behind the ogre. There were even more of them than he’d thought. Nasty, clever survivors who had threaded their way through fire and smoke, past the ragings of their master, to be here now. 

So Goblin Slayer took one more step back. The ogre closed the distance, and the goblins followed him. 

“GOOBORG!” 

“GGBRG!” 

The goblins looked at each other with whispered laughter. That adventurer was as good as dead. This was going to work. They had survived. They would be rewarded. There was no question. All this was the most obvious stuff in the world to goblins. They never doubted that their prowess and capabilities were clear to all and that they would receive compensation in proportion to all the work they had done. 

All the more reason to bring pain to that adventurer. The head would be ideal, but at least a finger or two. They needed proof that he was dead, that the job was done. 

If nothing else, they could always steal the trophies from the slob who had done the work. 

Snapping at each other, watching each other suspiciously, the multitude of goblins surrounded the adventurer. 

“……” 

Goblin Slayer said nothing, only held his sword out in his hand, glaring at them. He turned in a circle, keeping the monsters at bay. If they all came at him at once, it would be over. He knew that all too well. 

Keeping a close eye on the ever-narrowing distance between him and his enemies, Goblin Slayer took another step back. 

Then the ogre broke easily through the ring surrounding Goblin Slayer, drawing closer to him. In his hands was the massive war hammer, capable no doubt of crushing anyone unfortunate enough to be underneath it when it came down. The ogre gave it a great swing through the air, teasing the adventurer. “A pathetic, living stain of an adventurer like you… Repent, and then go to your death, pounded like a coffin nail!” 

“I want to ask one thing,” Goblin Slayer said. He looked through his item pouch, grabbing something in his hand. “This brother of yours—was he, too, capable of nothing but swinging his weapon around?” 

“…?!” The ogre caught his breath; he didn’t see precisely what the question was asking, but the note of contempt was all too obvious. 

“If so, then perhaps I do remember,” the adventurer went on. “There was a huge goblin beneath the water town.” 

“But,” Goblin Slayer said, perplexed, “you don’t appear to be a goblin.” 

“You wretched, sniveling, stinking—!!” The hammer came down with a reverberating blow, scattering snow and ice. Goblin Slayer jumped back, almost rolling away. The ogre cursed and spat as he brushed the ice off his weapon. “I thought my hammer would be enough to squash an insect like you, but…!” He pointed with an outstretched hand. Goblin Slayer saw the light gathering at his fingertip. “Carbunculus…Crescunt…!” 

Magic began swirling, heating the air as the words of the spell boomed. The light changed to flame; the flame coalesced into a sphere, increasing in intensity, drying out the air, burning bright. Finally, at its absolute hottest, burning red, blue, and even white, it lit up the whole the field, beneath the clouds. 

Snow vaporized, turning to steam. Goblin Slayer dropped into a low stance. However bright it might be, it was nothing compared to her light. 

“Iacta…?!” At that moment, as his fireball rocketed away from him… “Wha… What…?!” His feet slipped. Or rather, they sank. His fireball shot off in a random direction, and then it sank, too, causing a burst of hot steam. 

This was impossible. The ogre blinked and looked around. The bizarre sights didn’t stop with what was under his feet. 

“GBOORGB?!” 

“GOBR?! GOORGB?!” 

The goblins were drowning. First their feet went under, then they were up to their chests, then to their heads, until only their flailing arms were still visible above the surface of the… earth. 

The earth? 

For the first time, the ogre noticed the piercing, biting cold. 

This was no earth. It wasn’t earth! This was—it was water! 

“A-adventurer—!!” He searched for his arch nemesis as if to find an answer. But the adventurer was gone without a trace. “Damn youuuu!!” 

The ogre’s hammer, in which he had placed so much stock, now dragged him down with its weight. Down into the dark water, where the ogre was swallowed beneath choking goblins. 

Goblin Slayer watched all of this intently from just nearby. He had thrown himself into one of the holes in the ice he had carved earlier. Sparkling in his hand was a Breath ring. The guttering spark was his lifeline. 

It didn’t matter if one could use magic or had a massive war hammer: deal a violent enough blow to a frozen lake, and this was what would happen. If one knew it was coming, one could jump into the water first. Then there would be no flailing, no drowning. 

And this eliminated all the goblins in one fell swoop—or perhaps not; there might still be survivors in the village. Pulling himself up by the grass on the shore, he heaved his drenched body onto the land. On all fours, he spat out a breath, then tumbled over onto his back and inhaled gratefully. 

His body felt unnaturally heavy. Was it fatigue? No doubt. Cold, too. He was so terribly tired. 

“……” 

Twice, three times he heaved a breath in and out, then got unsteadily to his feet. He didn’t want to take so much as a single step, but he had to move. Well then, he would move. Everything was do, or do not do. There was no try. It wasn’t a matter of can or can’t. 

This was no time for counting. And he had no idea how many goblins might be left in the village. But Goblin Slayer needed to finish them off. 

“…Time to go.” 

He looked toward the village: smoke was still rising from the houses; goblin screams could still be heard. The women were still hidden; they hadn’t been found. But he didn’t want to keep them waiting. That girl, his old friend—he was always keeping her waiting. Today, at least, he could hurry. 

“What was it called…?” 

That monster? 

Goblin Slayer thought a moment, but weariness kept the word from coming to his mind. 

Fine. Instead of thinking harder, he turned toward the lake and sighed. “I have goblins to—” 

“Ad…vennnntur…errrr!!!!” 

A geyser of water exploded upwards. Hacking and coughing, the giant came flying high into the sky before landing on the ground with all his weight. 

It’s hard to say if Goblin Slayer immediately understood what had happened. If he realized the ogre, rather than letting go of his hammer, had deliberately sunk down. That he had then kicked powerfully off the bottom of the lake. 

Regardless, Goblin Slayer moved his ponderous arms and legs, readying his shield, holding up his sword, prepared to receive his attacker. 

He could see the monster coming on, the fatal force closing upon him, and he— He— 

§ 

“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness!” 

§ 

There was a flash of light, so bright and so intense it seemed as if the sun had come crashing down to earth. 

“Nrraghh?!” The ogre, temporarily blinded, stumbled. He no longer knew quite where he was bringing his hammer down. Goblin Slayer, almost unable to believe what was happening, kicked off the ground and leaped backward. 

A hairbreadth. The hammer slammed down, sending up a spray of snow and ice, and water, too. 

It shouldn’t have been possible. Goblin Slayer got to his feet, steadying his breath. 

He had heard a voice he should never have been able to hear. But there it was. 

“Goblin Slayer, sir!” The voice betrayed much anxiety mixed with even greater joy. He could hear the girl calling from the edge of the mountain. Goblin Slayer turned toward her. 

There. 

There she was, she and her companions, riding on a sled. Priestess was at the head of the party, her sounding staff raised high. The wind whipped her golden hair across her cheeks and forehead, but her eyes never wavered, and the skin of her face was flushed. 

“This time…we made it…!” 

Goblin Slayer smiled. Inside his helmet, his lips turned up ever so slightly—no more. “A cloth sled?” 

“Yes indeed.” Dwarf Shaman laughed, sliding through the snow and jumping off beside Goblin Slayer. “This girl here, she said to dunk a blanket in water and then use Weathering to freeze it right up.” 

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, she has truly imbibed the teachings of Milord Goblin Slayer.” 

“Teachings? More like the insanity! Orcbolg’s corrupting our youth, I tell you!” 

Lizard Priest, swaying slightly, and High Elf Archer came next; Priestess only blushed deeper. 

She tried to offer a modicum of objection: “Well, I…” 

But Goblin Slayer shook his head. “It was a good idea,” he said shortly, trying to keep his voice even. “Thank you.” 

“…Yes, sir!” Her smile was so bright it rivaled her miracle of a moment ago. “But shouldn’t there be someone else here…?” 

She meant Cow Girl, presumably. She sounded so considerate. Goblin Slayer nodded. “She’s safe,” he said, and then, perhaps thinking this wasn’t quite enough, added, “I had her run away.” 

“Thank goodness…” Priestess put a hand to her chest. 

“I figured as much.” High Elf Archer, an arrow in hand, nimbly alighted onto the ground next to Priestess. “Gotta say, we could see you from a long way off.” She looked downright bored as she watched the massive monster haul himself to his feet, supporting himself with his hammer. “And it turns out to be an ogre, of all things. Here, of all places…” 

“Ogre,” Goblin Slayer echoed absently. “So that’s what it’s called.” 

“You could at least remember it!” High Elf Archer looked up to the heavens. “We fought one on our very first adventure!” 

“Adventure…” Goblin Slayer gazed at the ogre, thinking back to those ruins. So that was it. That had been an adventure. “…I’ll remember that.” 

The helmet nodded slowly, prompting a satisfied “All right!” from High Elf Archer. 

“In that case, I suppose one would call this a rematch. A splendid opportunity to redress the humiliation of our last encounter.” Lizard Priest smiled merrily—which was to say, fearsomely. 

Dwarf Shaman took a swig of fire wine. “So, what’s the plan, Beard-cutter? We’ve just finished an adventure of our own, and we’re feeling a little run-down.” 

“…I have a plan,” Goblin Slayer replied. He always had something in his pocket, so to speak. With all of them gathered together, there were any number of plans. “Let’s do it.” 

“Yes, let’s go…!” 

The party moved as one. Goblin Slayer dropped into a low stance, sword and shield at the ready. Lizard Priest was beside him with a polished Swordclaw. High Elf Archer pulled back her bowstring, while next to Priestess with her staff, Dwarf Shaman was reaching into his bag of catalysts. 

It was a formation they had used many, many times. A familiar stratagem for facing down any monster. 

The ogre, hammer in hand, looked askance at the sight. 

“I see now…!” 

Adventurers. 

They were adventurers. 

“I see what you are!!” 

“I agree,” Goblin Slayer repeated. “I think you do!” 

And then, despite all his weariness, he launched himself forward. 

§ 

“Nrrragghhh!!” 

The roar was accompanied by the crash of a hammer, but the adventurers each dodged away nimbly. One blow would be fatal: that, at least, was no different from before. 

High Elf Archer frowned, fixing her aim as she shouted, “What’re we doing, Orcbolg?!” 

“The drop,” Goblin Slayer said shortly. 

“Didn’t you do that already?!” Her arrows came even faster than her words, lodging in the ogre’s chest one after another. But he broke away the shafts with a great sweep of his hammer, the damage not even fazing him. 

“A poor show, elf!!” 

“Yipes!” High Elf Archer jumped away from the hammer that came at her in response. That huge lump of metal was no joke. If it struck her, she would be lucky to have a limb left to shoot with. When she pictured being squashed like a bug under someone’s palm, the blood drained out of her delicate face. 

Diligently judging his distance, though, Goblin Slayer said, as if it were completely natural, “We will do it again.” 

“Aw, for…!” Fine. High Elf Archer smiled as if they weren’t in dire straits, running along so lightly she hardly left a footprint in the snow. 

Goblin Slayer glanced at his archer, looking for her shot, but his question was for Dwarf Shaman. “Spells?” 

“Think I can manage one or two more.” 

“Save one for me.” 

“Will do!” 

Finally, Goblin Slayer looked at Priestess. She was readying her sling. There was resolve in her expression, but her cheeks were pale with fatigue. She might not even have enough left in her to ask for another miracle. 

“Don’t—” 

“—do anything crazy? I won’t,” Priestess answered firmly, with a knowing smile. “If crazy or over-the-top can help me win, then it’s no trouble at all.” 

“Good.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Then he looked back at the contest between the ogre and High Elf Archer. High Elf Archer fired, ran, jumped, forcing the ogre’s hand. The hammer slammed into a tree trunk, shattering a branch. But she flickered like a dapple of sunlight, and suddenly she was on the next branch. The forest might have been dead and dry, but it was still a forest. The elf was like a fish in water. She would be able to hold out for a while yet. 

“What do you think?” asked Goblin Slayer. 

“Perhaps you’ve heard the song sung long ago and far away?” Lizard Priest slapped Goblin Slayer on the shoulder with his tail, rolling his eyes in genuine merriment. “They say a giant, no matter how large, cannot run from gravity. And when one walks on only two feet…” 

“It’s settled, then.” Goblin Slayer pulled a grappling hook from his item pouch, tossing the hook end to Lizard Priest. “Pull it tight.” 

“And tie it around the sturdiest tree I can find, I’m sure. Understood!” 

Just this handful of words was enough, and two figures went running off through the snow. As soon High Elf Archer saw them, she knew what their plan was. She grabbed hold of a branch and flipped up to the top of a tree, so lightly she seemed to weigh nothing at all. 

“Work with me!” 

“Okay!” 

Hearing the voice of her redoubtable companion, Priestess took aim with a stone in her sling. She sent it flying with a whistle, and—perhaps because her target was so large, or perhaps thanks to all that practice—she hit the ogre in the face. 

“Nice try! You think one stone flung by one little girl is going to do anything to me?” 

“How about this, then? I’ve got more than just arrows for you this time…!” High Elf Archer took a bolt from her quiver, bit down hard with her small white teeth, and nocked it into her bow. The bowstring sang out, almost musical, as she sent it flying. It made a perfect straight line toward the ogre— 

“Gragh?!” 

No sooner had it slammed into his eyeball than it broke and splintered. The ogre looked shocked. 

“Heh,” High Elf Archer sniffed proudly, swinging herself to another vantage point. “You just pulled out my other arrows and healed up from them, so I thought I’d try something different. Elves are renowned for their intelligence, y’know!” 

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that.” High Elf Archer’s long ears twitched as they picked up Dwarf Shaman’s grumbled comment. She wanted to shoot something back, but they were in the middle of a battle. She kept her peace. “Now or never, Orcbolg!” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t respond. Lizard Priest finished tying the rope around a tree trunk. “Ready, Milord Goblin Slayer!” 

Goblin Slayer ducked around the ogre’s feet, once, twice. A trip wire could send even goblins sprawling. There was no way a creature this big would fail to fall. 

“Groohhh…!!” 

He pulled the rope tight; it strained against the ogre’s weight. He forced himself not to slide in the snow. He gritted his teeth, fatigue stiffening his muscles. 

“Nrrrragghhh…! To think such a childish trick could…!!” 

The same was true of the ogre. He rooted himself, trying to work his tottering body upright even as he tried to get the shrapnel out of his eyes. He was through with this. Forget tormenting them; he would simply slaughter them all. 

“Carbunculus… Crescunt…” 

He pointed his finger again, words of true power spilling out of his mouth. The magical light glowed at his fingertip. Lizard Priest, pushing up against the trunk of the tree to keep it from falling down, widened his eyes. They needed him, the largest in the party, to keep the grappling hook lodged in position. “Fireball spell imminent…!!” 

“We’ve heard this one before!” High Elf Archer frowned. Was it the dwarf who had done it that time? 

“…Here…goes…!” The smallest figure of them all, that of Priestess, moved in to confront the swirling storm of magic. She held up her sounding staff in both hands as if clinging to it; with resolve in her heart and her eyes closed, she proclaimed the words of her incantation. “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, grant your sacred light to we who are lost in darkness…!!” 

The Holy Light miracle had been used once not long before. If the enemy knew it was coming, it was a simple matter to close their eyes for an instant against the flash. It was quite effective at blinding opponents, but it was also nothing more than that. 

So the ogre, recognizing what was going on, glanced away from Priestess… 

“—?!” 

…and then his eyes went wide when nothing happened. 

When Priestess saw his expression, a bold and unexpected smile crossed her still-young, sweat-streaked face. 

I’m not surprised. She pointed her sounding staff squarely at the ogre, her small chest bursting with pride. I only said the words of the prayer! 

“Now!” she exclaimed. 

“You got it!!” Dwarf Shaman, a mouthful of fire wine already set to go, carved a sigil in the air with his fingers. “Pixies, pixies, hurry, quickly! No sweets for you—I just need tricksies!” 

And pixies loved tricksies. If there was a job to be done in a hurry, they would gladly come running. Chuckling little winged creatures placed the ogre’s feet in a bind. 

Now only one thing could happen. 

“Gaaaaaahhhhh?!” The ogre lost his concentration, his words of true power vanishing into thin air, the light fading from his finger. Unable to set his feet, he tumbled helplessly backward, rolling into the lake. 

“Yaaah…!” As a geyser of spray shot into the air, Goblin Slayer jumped. One shout and he was flying. He aimed for the chest of the sinking ogre, his sword in a reverse grip. “Cut the rope…!” 

“So I shall!” Lizard Priest howled, and then slashed the rope with his sharp claws. The rope jumped, and the ogre, with nothing else to hold onto, slid right into the water. 

Even as the ogre flailed and sank, Goblin Slayer drove his blade into the monster’s throat and twisted. 

“Gragh?! A-Adventurer…!!” Wracked with pain and choking on blood, the ogre’s eyes still flashed. 

Ah. Damaged, the creature was. But it wasn’t a critical hit. This adventurer, with his poor blade, couldn’t hope to deprive an ogre of his life with one decisive attack. He was a foolish, one-trick pony, the ogre thought. He would simply sink down again and spring back up. Though using the same trick twice was a sign of desperation… 

“That little girl, and your elf friend, too—I’ll feast on them while you watch…!!” the ogre spat. Goblin Slayer looked dispassionately into his face. A single red eye, glowing like a fire, gazed at the ogre. 

And then he spoke. Calmly, mechanically, in a voice as cold as the wind blowing through a valley. “Sink.” 

“Wha…?” 

“And we’re up!!” Before the ogre could comprehend what he meant, Dwarf Shaman was shouting. His stubby fingers formed one sigil after another in the air. “Come out, you gnomes, and let it go! Here it comes, look out below! Turn those buckets upside-down—empty all upon the ground!” 

The ogre, feeling as heavy and sluggish as if he were bound with chains, sank into the freezing water. “Wha— Why— You stinking— Adv—venturrghhh…!!” The dark water filled his mouth, his nose. He coughed and hacked until he could no longer speak. 

Goblin Slayer kicked off the ogre’s chest, jumping to shore. As for his sword, he left it in the monster’s throat. 

The ogre tried to watch him, to stay focused on him. But the dark water was already closing around him, and he couldn’t see anything. The water clung to him as if it were muddy, yet no matter how he struggled and swam he could find nothing to hold onto. He was being forced to fall. Very, very slowly. 

Do you think he ever realized it was the work of Falling Control? 

The ogre wanted to jump up onto land. He wished he could slice the adventurers apart. He didn’t want a pathetic death like this. He didn’t want to drown. No. But his shout turned to bubbles, popping and vanishing before they reached the surface of the lake. 

And that was his end. 

“…So it’s over.” Goblin Slayer heaved himself up on shore and rolled over, clearly spent. His body felt even heavier than before. It was as if his whole being was made of lead. Even breathing was difficult, and he felt an impulse to take off his helmet. No, he mustn’t. There were still goblins. Still goblins. He couldn’t take it off. There were still… 

“Goblin Slayer, sir, here.” 

His thoughts were interrupted by a gallant offer of a bottle from beside him. He looked over and saw Priestess, obviously tired herself, peering through his visor and holding out a stamina potion. 

“Ah,” Goblin Slayer said, his voice scratching. “…Thank you. That helps.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Priestess replied, blushing shyly and looking down. “You’re always helping me.” 

Is that so? Goblin Slayer drank the potion. 

That’s right. Priestess sat heavily next to him. 

Goblin Slayer was finally able to take a great, deep breath. 

“Man, we just took an ogre down head-on,” High Elf Archer said as if she couldn’t quite believe it. She stared at the water, its surface still disturbed by small ripples. Then she gave a triumphant flick of her ears and turned to the party with a broad smile. “Doesn’t that make us pretty much as good as Gold-ranked adventurers?!” 

“Don’t start,” Dwarf Shaman said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Once you go Gold, you get involved in politics, and that’s all danger and no profit.” 

“Oh yeah, guess so,” High Elf Archer responded, sounding disappointed. She seemed to have completely forgotten her little argument with the dwarf in the middle of the battle. 

So simple, Dwarf Shaman chuckled to himself, stroking his beard and taking a swig of wine. 

“Just so, just so. One may have the strength of a Gold, but to save all the nuisance, one remains Silver. Well, to wear rank lightly is best.” Lizard Priest, freeing the grappling hook from where it had been lodged in the tree, rolled his eyes happily. The rope had been cut, but the hook itself was still good. True adventurers knew the importance of reusing materials wherever possible, even little things like this. “This is top-quality,” he added, hefting the war hammer the ogre had let go of during his struggles. Lizardmen, by tradition, fought only with their fangs and claws and didn’t use weapons, but even so, they had a sharp eye for valuable metalcraft. It was no skull or heart, but it would make a fine trophy. “Loot matters… Now, Milord Goblin Slayer, I presume the cleanup comes next.” 

“Yes.” Goblin Slayer gave a small nod and looked to the ruined village, from which smoke still rose. There were still goblins around. And the formerly captive women remained in the well, waiting for the battle to end. Now that the real fight was over, they had to tie up the loose ends. Reduce the number of goblins in the world. 

There was a mountain of things that still had to be done, and so it had not been his day to die. 

“So… An ogre, was it?” Goblin Slayer felt his strength returning thanks to the potion; he pulled himself to his feet. He tottered slightly and Priestess supported him with a delicate hand. Goblin Slayer spoke again: “Goblins are far more frightening.”