Goblin Slayer - Volume SS1.02 - Chapter 2.1

Interlude – Of How They’re Unable To Come Home Because The Map Is Unfinished

“Eeeeeeeeeeek!!” 

A woman’s high-pitched scream echoed throughout the abandoned mine, accompanied by a fleshy smacking and a muffled yell. 

The girl’s upraised foot had struck the goblin square in the jaw. The little devil thumped to the ground, frothing blood: a critical hit, no question. 

Well, that was goblins for you. There was no need for any special weapons or skills to kill them. 

“Why would goblins set up in an abandoned mine anyway?” The martial artist girl asked, not even bothering to set down her leg. 

The young warrior frowned. “…I heard there was a battle to the east. Maybe they came from there.” 

“Huh? Through the central region? Sounds like a lot of trouble to me.” 

“Traveling underground, you can go anywhere,” the young warrior said, trying to forestall unpleasant memories. He took his hand off his sword, which he hadn’t even needed to draw. 

“Makes sense,” the girl added, impressed. He didn’t want to just foist much of the fighting on her, but there wasn’t much choice. It was hard to keep an eye on everyone from the very front of the formation. But if he were second or third in line, his weapon couldn’t reach the enemy. 

Maybe I should take up the spear like a certain someone I know… 

As he considered the possibility, Young Warrior turned to the man behind him. “What do you think, Professor?” 

“Hrm, lessee,” the man they called Professor replied in a surprisingly brusque voice. If one lifted up his weathered coat, a wolflike face would have been visible. He was a padfoot wizard, approaching middle age—suggesting that he had given up life as a lecturer to pursue a dream of adventuring. Fangs bared, he continued, “All this dust gets in my nose, keeps it from working right. And all these crisscrossing paths make mapping a tall order.” 

“We only need the rough outline. We’re not here for an official survey or anything.” 

Right, right. The padfoot wizard nodded amiably and began sketching on his sheepskin paper. 

I made the right choice, having him be our cartographer, Young Warrior thought, impressed by the man’s calm demeanor. His skill was necessary to collect their reward from this quest, and besides, the ability to keep a cool head was always valuable. He inspired far more confidence than some hot-tempered spell caster who seemed liable to fire off magic at the slightest provocation. But then there was— 

“—? Is something the matter?” The young woman looked at him in confusion, her long hair hanging down. But even she was all right. The problem was the other two. 

“Heeey, looks like it just keeps goin’ this way!” 

“You have no idea how hard I worked to keep this young lady from getting too far ahead.” 

From the darkness emerged a dwarf girl, so young she still hadn’t grown her beard, and an elf boy. 

Well, it wasn’t actually that easy to tell how old they really were. The dwarf fancied herself as a scout-in-training; the elf was someone who had discovered his faith in the Earth Mother. That was all the young warrior knew about them, and for the time being, it was all he needed to know. 

“Whazzat?! We hardly made any progress before you were all, Let’s go back, let’s turn around, ooh, I’m so scared!” 

“Be serious. I’ll have you know we simply see things differently from dwarves.” 

Young Warrior had sent them on ahead because both of them could see in the dark, but the reconnaissance mission had quickly degenerated into this. He put a hand to his face. 

Glad they get along so well… 

He thought of his former—he was loath to say departed—companions. He realized now how hard that monk had worked to lead them. He would have to apologize someday. 

“It’s great you’re such good friends,” Martial Artist said with a broad smile. It didn’t seem he could expect any intervention from the flummoxed-looking padfoot wizard, either. 

“Excuse me,” the warrior said, maintaining his calm, “but I asked you to scout ahead, not get into an argument.” 

“Hmph!” The dwarf girl puffed out her cheeks, while the elf priest gave her a triumphant smirk. 

“And I asked you to go with her, not to let her bait you into a fight.” 

“…Hrmm.” Elf Acolyte tried to keep the smile on his face, but the dwarf girl now glared at him. 

“Look, you even got me yelled at,” she said. 

“Who got who yelled at? You started it.” 

“Says the guy who lost everything gambling, got alms from a nun, and suddenly found religion.” 

“Hrgh?!” 

This was something of a critical hit in its own way. 

The dwarf, brought up in the military, knew how to handle herself in an argument, and if she lacked something in intellect vis-à-vis the elf, she certainly had him beat on experience. 

The elf fell silent as the dwarf cackled beside him; the warrior decided that was enough for now and got ready to move on. 

“Okay, form up and let’s go deeper. We’ll have to report the appearance of goblins eventually, but…” 

“The map’s not finished yet, huh?” the silver-haired fighter asked. 

“Right,” the warrior replied, and then he took a step farther into the mine. Whereupon… 

“…Well, this won’t do at all. What a terrible smell,” Professor grunted suddenly. 

Young Warrior instantly had his sword in his hand. “You, the Odd Couple, look after the Professor. Me and the girl will be out in front. Professor, get ready with your magic.” 

“Wha? Wha?” 

“Hey, who’s an odd couple…?!” 

Martial Artist was thoroughly confused, and the elf was incensed, but Young Warrior ignored them both, fixing his eyes on the darkness ahead, straining his ears to hear. 

The first thing he detected was innumerable footsteps. Then came the awful stench. And finally, the eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. 

What to do about helmets? 

There were a lot of enemies. In a pitched battle, wouldn’t it be a bad thing if the commander couldn’t survey the whole field? 

After an instant’s consideration of the helmet hanging on his back, he tossed the equipment away, though for a different reason from before. 

“Shoulda bought a bowl helmet…” 

“Goblins, and…something very big!” 

The greenskins poured out of the darkness. 

“GOORRBGG…” 

“GOROB! GGBBRROG!” 

Four, no, five of them. They had crude weapons in their hands. That was good. Not good, but good. 

“GBRRRRR!” 

And then there was the creature leading this little band, a giant who towered almost to the ceiling of the mine tunnel. With the club it swung thoughtlessly in its hand, it was a profoundly intimidating sight. 

Young Warrior recognized it. He had never seen one, but he’d heard tell of them in his last party, albeit briefly. 

“A hob!” 

“Well, strictly speaking, that means giant in the old tongue,” the padfoot wizard said nonchalantly. Maybe the warrior shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already forming sigils with his hands. 

“It has the whiff of poison,” Elf Acolyte said importantly. “I suppose it will be my job to neutralize that.” 

“Seeing as that’s the only miracle you’ve got, yeah, I guess so,” the dwarf quipped. 

“Hmph. This is not the time for talk.” 

“If you say so.” The dwarf girl pulled out something that looked like a cross between a billhook and dagger and held it in reverse grip. She knew it would be her responsibility to protect their spell casters. Young Warrior nodded. 

“My armor’s the thickest,” he said, “so I’ll handle the goblins. Their poisoned blades will be less likely to get through my armor. And you—” 

“Take the big one! Got it!” Martial Artist called out excitedly. As she sprang forward at the enemy, the battle began. 

“GRRORB!” 

“GBR!!” 

These were goblins they were dealing with. Young Warrior cast a glance to either side, mindful of the possibility the enemy might break through the walls (an unpleasant memory), then he advanced. 

Trying to swing a two-handed sword like a madman would gain him nothing in this confined space, but… 

“Hrr—aagghh!” 

He made a sidelong sweep with his blade. The tunnel just barely accommodated the move, the tip scraping along the wall. 

“GOOBR?!” 

At that same instant, a glistening dagger bounced off his sword. A goblin flinched back. 

So it was poisoned, huh? 

But everything was well in hand. The warrior licked his lips, dry with the anxiety of combat, and brought his sword back to center. 

Provoke, parry, and when he was close enough, launch an attack of opportunity. 

His role was to be the tank. The heart of their assault would be the young woman currently rushing through the enemy ranks, shooting through the heart of the foe like an arrow. 

“GGGBBORG!!” 

Naturally, no monster would be very disturbed by the sight of one unarmed girl charging at them. 

This monster took a snorting breath, raising a club until it brushed the ceiling of the narrow cave, then brought it down with deadly force. 

“Yah!” Martial Artist twisted away from the arc of the weapon. Her hair spun and floated from the resulting air pressure. “Hiii-yah!” 

Then she dropped her hips into a deep stance and thrust her fist out in front of her. There was a ringing, like that of a great bell. 

“GOOB?!” 

Ripples spread across the hobgoblin’s hideously distended belly, and the giant stumbled a step back. 

But that was all. The massive goblin looked down at his stomach in confusion, then produced an awful grin. 

“GGGGGG…!” 

“Yikes, what’s going on here? That thing is soft!” 

The thick layers of fat acted like a kind of armor themselves, protecting the creature from any real harm. As the girl learned to her chagrin. 

“Don’t get distracted—keep at it!” 

“GOOROGB?!” 

The warrior had diverted a goblin’s attack to the side, his sword at a slant, then retaliated immediately with a cut, landing his first kill. He was already kicking the corpse away as he shouted to Martial Artist, who replied, “Okay!” 

“Ahh… Hup!” A dart came flying from behind Young Warrior, taking advantage of the attack of opportunity he’d created. 

“GBRO?!” A goblin exclaimed when the dart buried itself in his hand, earning Young Warrior enough time to reform his stance. 

“Heh-heh-heh! These trick bows are rather fun,” Elf Acolyte said. He was holding a spring-loaded dart gun. 

The dwarf girl, standing beside him with her dagger in hand, grumbled, “What happened to the precepts of the Earth Mother?” 

“Don’t insult me. This is a minimalist weapon, strictly for self-defense.” 

That explained why the elf didn’t have any money. The warrior smirked, then slashed another goblin. 

“GOOBORG?!” 

That made two. Reloading that little toy of the elf’s would take time. He didn’t want to count on it for anything. 

It was Dwarf Scout’s presence and protection that allowed Elf Acolyte the luxury of simply standing and shooting. In fact, she had to protect all three of the people on their back row. Young Warrior believed he could trust her with this. 

He focused forward and saw that the battle between Martial Artist and the hobgoblin was still going on. 

“Hrr—hah!” 

“GOOOG! GOROBG!!” 

But exactly the sort of thing that often occurs in these fights happened to her. 

Maybe she was overenthusiastic. Maybe she got her distancing wrong. In any event, the hobgoblin caught her leg and stopped her cold. 

“Hrk?! Ahh?!” 

“GOROGB! GOOOGBGR!!” 

The hobgoblin’s expression twisted hideously, while Martial Artist’s face was seized with fear. 

Would the creature crush her leg or simply swing her around helplessly? Goblins possessed a child’s cruelty. 

“Professor!” 

“Arma…Fugio…Amittimus! Weapons, flee and be lost!” 

Later, he would reflect that making the calm, restrained padfoot the last in line had been something of a stroke of genius. The old wizard was already conjuring up the right spell before Young Warrior had to ask for it. 

Words of true power were released by this invocation and assailed the hobgoblin. 

“?!” 

“…!” 

The first way the Fumble spell manifested was to pop the club right out of the goblin’s hand. 

Now Martial Artist’s eyes shone. Her leg whipped around in the creature’s grasp. 

“HIIIIIII-YAH!” With a screech like a bird of prey, she pushed off her opponent’s own hand to launch a flying kick. She came in, spinning like a top, smashing into the hobgoblin’s face. 

“GBORG?!” The scream could barely be heard over the crunch of breaking bones. Blood gushed from the monster’s broken nose, and it crumpled to the ground without another sound. The Professor later explained the most likely scenario was that a piece of bone had been driven into its brain. 

Now that was a critical hit. 

“Hup… Ah… Man, that was a close one…!” Martial Artist landed unsteadily on her feet, putting a relieved hand to her ample bust. 

Young Warrior let out a deep breath, said, “Good,” and again set upon the goblins in front of him. 

“GOBORG?!” 

“GRG?! GOOBG?!” 

There were just three of them left, and their leader was dead. 

We can do without a description of the rest; the party finished off the monsters, every last one. 

Now, then. 

With the fight over, what remained was to go through the goblins’ possessions. 

“Ahem, let’s see here. It’s not like I’m expecting goblins to have anything worthwhile on them, but…” 

It was, of course, Dwarf Scout who reached out, grinning, toward the corpses. Young Warrior was staggered by how nimble her large fingers were. But he had other things to worry about. 

He searched in the baggage for the water pouch. When he found it, he looked over at the padfoot wizard. 

“Go ahead, both of you,” the old beast replied. “I don’t mind. Beauty before age!” 

“Thanks.” 

The young man headed slightly down the tunnel to where the girl was sitting in a corner. As he drew near, she looked up at him with a cheerful but strained expression; she seemed hesitant. 

“…Here.” Instead of pointing any of this out, he sat down next to her and offered her the water. 

“…Thanks, I’ll have some.” 

The martial artist girl tried to take the skin, but her hands were trembling too badly. Was it nerves? Terror? 

“Gosh, uh… Adventuring, it’s… It’s a lot…” 

“A lot scarier than you thought, right?” 

“…I thought I was going to die there,” she whispered. Then she managed two swigs before closing the pouch. 

“Yeah, it was bad.” Young Warrior nodded, letting the waterskin she passed him roll around in his hands. “I was scared, too. But, well, I guess that’s better than not being scared.” 

“…Is it?” 

“If you weren’t scared, I think you’d pretty much be on your way to dying.” 

Of course, sometimes you die even if you are scared. 

The little addendum provoked a “What the heck?” from Martial Artist. Her smile was forced, but it was there. 

“Scared of a bunch of goblins. There go my bragging rights, huh?” There was a note of disappointment, even disgust, in her voice. “And here I told Momma and Poppa that I was gonna go out into the world and make my fortune.” 

“You think being scared shitless by a Rock Eater’s any better?” 

“A rock what?” She tilted her head in perplexity, her silver hair cascading down. Never mind, he gestured with a half smile and a shake of his head. 

It was so completely different. Different from her. Different from his last party. 

“Anyway, not everything goes right the first time. Long as you’re alive, you’ll get another chance.” 

“…Right.” 

Because things had been so different, he wasn’t sure if the words would be any real comfort to her. Maybe they were simply what he wished somebody had said to him. 

The girl gave a nod, short but determined, and to his own surprise, that made him…happy. 

“Hey, this hob’s got a letter! Not that I can read it!” 

“Ah, dwarves, as smart as you are tall. Give it here… Hmph, I thought so. So that’s the story.” 

“If I can’t read it, there’s no way you can—is there?!” 

Over by the hobgoblin, the elf and the dwarf were quarreling noisily. The old wizard, a pained smile on his face, worked his way between them. When he had retrieved the grimy sheet of paper, he nodded knowingly and said, “Ahh. These aren’t letters so much as pictographs. Most likely they mean something akin to Wait for orders.” 

“Pictographs… So goblins can’t read?” 

“Not necessarily. Judging by the style here, I would say it was a warlock who wrote this, perhaps…” 

He didn’t sound personally concerned about it. Considering the size of the mine, they had to be nearly through with their expedition. 

Young Warrior, watching the whole scene distractedly, suddenly asked, “Hey, can you read and write?” 

“Not a word!” the dwarf girl answered, puffing out her ample chest with something suspiciously like pride. 

Young Warrior smiled. “Well, maybe you can learn when you get a chance. You and me both, together.” 

“Sure!” 

Gotta keep going, a little longer. 

That’s what he would say to that bald-headed monk when the man got back to town. Maybe over drinks. 

His choice made, Young Warrior got slowly to his feet.