Goblin Slayer - Volume SS1.02 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Her Scenario, His Scenario

“I’m curious—what was it you were talking about with that girl?” 

A hawk screeched and circled overhead. Arc Mage, leading the way across the pathless field, glanced back. 

Goblin Slayer, laden with cargo so heavy it forced his shoulders down, grunted under his helmet. “Nothing special,” he said. Then he added, “I simply helped her with work.” 

Arc Mage smirked, took a dainty sip of the cider, and swallowed noisily. Her eyes were tender as she said, “That’s not what I meant. I meant that witch.” 

“I requested her to do some work for me.” 

“Ah, that makes it all clear. And when you’ve got a perfectly good magical worker right here in front of you. Though I guess I am your quest giver.” 

Most lamentably, that leaves me unable to take on your requests. 

Arc Mage giggled (was something funny?) and kept walking at a lively pace. Goblin Slayer, carrying the baggage, trod through the brush behind her. 

Arc Mage didn’t tell him where they were going. And Goblin Slayer didn’t ask. There were goblins at her destination, and his job was to get rid of them. It didn’t matter where they were headed. He didn’t need to know anything except exactly what was required to do battle. 

“Tell me, don’t you ever get hot in that costume?” Arc Mage loosened the collar of her own shirt—deliberately, it seemed—and fanned at her cleavage. Of course, as far as Goblin Slayer could see, there wasn’t a drop of sweat on her. The slight flush in her cheeks must have been from the alcohol. And even that was normal for her. 

“No,” Goblin Slayer responded briefly, then looked up at the sky. 

The sunlight was strong, so bright it threatened to blind him. Summer must be nearly here. It would only get hotter. 

“I think it’s about time we found a place to camp for the night,” Goblin Slayer said. Arc Mage nodded. 

“Can’t count on the wind in summer, can you?” 

It was nearly the end of the second day since they’d left town. 

§ 

“In the end, my quest for you is goblin slaying,” Arc Mage said with a smile. It was night, and she was sitting by the bonfire Goblin Slayer had made. To avoid any risk of starting a wildfire, he had cut down nearby grass, then gathered up dry branches and grass and used them for fuel. 

“Is that so?” Goblin Slayer replied as he put a skewer of cheese-covered sausage on the fire. 

When the cheese had started to melt, Arc Mage pulled it back off, muttering “hot, hot, hot!” as she bit into it. “Mmmm…!” By the way the edges of her mouth turned up in pleasure, she seemed to like it. 

Goblin Slayer, who had purchased the food almost at random, let out a small breath of relief. 

“This comes from that farm, doesn’t it? Did you do that on purpose?” 

“The farm.” Goblin Slayer looked down once more at the skewer in his hand. It was well cooked now—did they make this sort of thing on the farm? He bit into it, and the cheese was sweet, the sausage salted just right. One bite, then two, disappeared into his steel helmet. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

“…Are you that type? The type that just wants to fill their stomachs and get some nutrition and doesn’t care about anything else?” Arc Mage made a face that said, I can’t believe it, but he shook his head slowly from side to side. 

“I am not picky, but my master taught me that if you want to stay alive, eat things that are warm and fatty.” 

“Ho,” Arc Mage said, sounding impressed this time. “A personage of wide experience, it seems. Yes, I agree. If you have warm, fatty things, you can live.” 

“He was a rhea.” 

“Makes sense.” Arc Mage nodded and put her lips to the opening of the bottle of cider as if it were the mouth of a lover. Then she licked up the droplets and gestured at him with the hand holding the bottle. “That’s where we get the will to live. You eat what you want to eat.” 

“…What I want to eat?” 

“Damn straight. No need to deny yourself.” Arc Mage took a swallow of alcohol and a big bite of sausage as if to illustrate her point. “In that sense, I do wonder about the goblins.” 

“…” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t say anything, but picked up a good-sized stick and stirred the fire. When he looked closer, he saw that the stick was forked at the end. If one were to tie a rock there with some rope, it could be an excellent club. 

“Are goblins happy, unhappy—? It must be easy, being completely ignorant, never thinking about anything.” 

“…” 

“But then again, look how thin they are, how wasted with hunger. Their appetites are never satisfied. They’re never full.” 

“I don’t care,” Goblin Slayer said. He almost spat the words. “The issue is what decisions they will make, how they will act. Not how they think about what’s around them.” 

“Yes, indeed. You’re absolutely right.” Arc Mage tilted the bottle of alcohol toward her, loath to waste a single drop. 

The fire crackled. Goblin Slayer stirred it again. 

“That’s why— Well, that’s why I don’t think it’s wrong of you to decide not to write a book about goblins.” 

That was likely the reason he managed not to miss the last of her whispers. And it was probably to blame for why he couldn’t see her expression, either. 

“The pursuit of knowledge isn’t a happy one. It takes such effort. First to obtain it, and then to live with it. 

“And most people don’t even want it in the first place,” she added. 

“People don’t want dry histories of heroes—they want romantic ballads.” 

Goblin Slayer nodded. He had a sense of what she meant. He remembered, back in his own village, hearing a number of stories of heroes. Each had probably been mangled by the bard who sang it. But he had believed them and dreamed he would become an adventurer—or at least, that he wanted to be. 

But he never could be. It simply wasn’t possible. 

“Even the Monster Manual is like that. Look how hard we’re working, eh? And we’re hardly the only ones.” 

Learning, researching, writing, editing. Arc Mage’s words seemed to dance through the night air. 

Collating, binding, transport, delivery, reception, and storage… 

The knowledge of how to do all those things was itself the great precondition to the production of the book. 

“And that knowledge”—Arc Mage spoke with the mercilessness of someone cutting open the belly of a living thing out of absolute necessity—“we have no obligation to share for free with some kid who runs away from his village, can’t even read, and gets himself killed hunting goblins.” 

Even if they were told, they wouldn’t have either the inclination or the capacity to understand what they were hearing. 

That’s learning for you. 

“So you won’t write a goblin book? Purely from the perspective of cost versus benefit, you’re absolutely right.” 

Goblin Slayer thought for a moment. There had been a temple of the God of Knowledge in his village. A small one, but still… Looking back now, he wished he had gone to it more often. As it stood, he had no education other than the basic letters his sister had taught him. 

“…I thought adherents of the God of Knowledge were passionate about spreading learning and study.” 

“Yes, about gaining and sharing it. Their ideal world would be bounteous and kind and peaceful and sounds wonderful.” 

Goblin Slayer thought again. A world where anyone and everyone had access to knowledge. He couldn’t imagine it. Reading and writing were one thing, but knowledge wasn’t something one was simply given. 

Neither simply given, nor simply gained, he thought. 

“But our world isn’t ideal, not by a long shot. It’s the gods’ tabletop, overflowing with fate and chance.” 

I’ve got no sympathy for people who go ignorantly to their deaths. Not when I don’t even know their faces. 

Thus, Arc Mage murmured—maybe she didn’t even especially intend for him to hear—and then once again put her lips lovingly to her cider bottle. 

“The light of knowledge is thin, and the darkness of ignorance still o’erweening.” 

“…” 

“Your own knowledge might be one spark against that darkness.” 

The words caused Goblin Slayer to move his helmet slightly, to look in her direction. In between the darkness of the night and the glow of the fire, he thought he could just see her eyes brimming. 

Maybe it was an illusion. “Then,” he asked, “what about yours?” 

She didn’t answer…except for the hint of an ambiguous smile that he caught just beyond the flames. 

§ 

“And so we’ve come to a corner,” she said as they reached the edge of the field. The brush thinned out beneath their feet, bare earth becoming visible. 

There was a wilderness ahead. A wasteland. The earth here was a dirty red color, as if seared by a flame; some said it was the aftermath of a great battle from the Age of the Gods. 

That didn’t interest Goblin Slayer. He said only, “I see.” 

“About one out of every four directions will yield one, in broad terms. Of course, it doesn’t have to be four.” 

And once again, he repeated, “I see.” He did, however, add, “Is that our destination?” 

“In a manner of speaking, yes. 

“For example,” she said, giving a shake of her hand. She produced a die, the flourish unnatural, as if she were doing magic. 

The die sparkled like the fang of a beast, or like a treasure. It caught the red light of the sun and scattered it everywhere. 

“How many corners does this die have?” 

“Eight.” 

“Excellent. And faces?” 

“Six.” 

“Another superb answer.” 

Now… Arc Mage gave an alluring smile, as if to an especially talented student. “If you come to one of those corners, what do you see?” 

“…” Goblin Slayer thought for a second. Then he stated a simple fact. “Three faces, I suppose.” 

“Indubitably!” Arc Mage smiled as if he had guessed exactly what she was thinking. 

She didn’t appear to be aware of any danger, even though she was walking backward. Goblin Slayer adjusted the load on his shoulders and walked behind her, which was to say, in front of her. 

“When you aspire to reach the top of a mountain, is the summit your true destination? Or the view? Or what’s beyond? That’s the question.” 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said for the third time. “So there are goblins there.” 

“We finally found it, and look. It’s enough to make a girl’s heart break.” 

Have a look. 

Arc Mage spoke almost as if she could see behind herself, then turned around with a smile. 

Goblin Slayer hadn’t noticed until she called his attention to it. 

A dark tower. A great, looming shadow in the gloom. 

It stood tall over the wasteland, reaching up to the sky. 

He blinked behind his visor. Then he grunted. “…I missed it.” 

“Not surprising. Only people who know about it can see it.” 

Goblin Slayer nodded disinterestedly, then crouched down and looked closely at the tower’s entrance. 

Yes, there they are. 

Goblins moved like stains of ink against the shadows. Guards, most likely. They carried short spears and stood vacantly at their posts, looking tired. 

“Thinking alone won’t tell us what in the world they’re doing here,” a voice whispered in his ear. He caught the faint whiff of cider and medicine. 

Behind his visor, Goblin Slayer dropped his eyes, taking in Arc Mage where she leaned on his shoulder. 

“I wonder if there was some kind of battle to the east. To bring the shades of the goblins’ deaths all the way out here.” 

“Shades…?” He didn’t know this word very well. 

Noticing his uncertainty, Arc Mage simply said, “I’ll explain later,” and laughed. “The easy way would be to climb the outer walls or fly through the air to make for the top, but I guess we can’t do that.” 

“Climb the outer walls,” he echoed softly. 

I see. That’s one possibility. 

“…So we will go through the inside?” 

“Yep. C’mon.” 

Arc Mage twisted as if pulling out of a man’s grasp, coming off his shoulder. She still had the same pregnant grin on her face as always. She asked him, “What will you do?” 

He answered. There was only one answer. No need to hesitate. 

“I will kill all the goblins.” 

It was clear what had to be done. 

And where. 

The only question…was how. 

§ 

With the tower looming before them, the adventurer and his quest giver watched and waited for their chance. 

Goblins grunted and growled at the entrance. There were no trees around the tower; the guards would be able to see for quite a distance. 

There was just a single rosebush, large enough for two people to conceal themselves. Once they got past it, the goblins were sure to notice them. 

“…There’s no shadow,” Goblin Slayer said softly. The sinking sun was falling behind the tower, wreathing it in darkness, but the tower itself cast no shadow. It should have been impossible unless the sun were at its zenith—no, even then. 

“So it will be difficult for us to hide as we approach.” 

Naturally, Goblin Slayer wasn’t concerned with such trivial details for their own sake. Then too, since goblins could see in the dark, he didn’t know whether hiding in the shadows really helped. Regardless, a full frontal assault without so much as an attempt at something better bothered him. 

“Look close. The goblins don’t cast shadows either, right?” Arc Mage’s voice was fast and high-pitched; she made no effort to hide her excitement. “That’s because it’s all shadows. Shades can’t cast shadows. It only makes sense. See what I’m saying?” 

“No,” he said bluntly. It came out as a soft grunt. “I don’t understand what these shades are that you keep talking about.” 

“They’re what spell casters chase.” Arc Mage grinned, although Goblin Slayer saw nothing funny and remained silent. “I told you. Thinking about it won’t get you anywhere. They’ve respawned from some battle somewhere.” 

“…” 

“Meaning, just like the tower, the shades of those goblins are being cast from somewhere. For example…” She gave Goblin Slayer a pointed glance. “That green moon you talked about, say.” 

“…So can we kill them?” 

Arc Mage gave him an amorous wink. Then she chuckled, like when a child manages to correctly guess the answer; she sounded quite amused. “Things with no shadows lack something in life force. They’re flat, front and back the same. I won’t say there’s no way you can kill a shadow.” 

“So we can kill them.” Goblin Slayer focused on the only part of that speech he understood, and this was the conclusion he drew from it. Otherwise, there would have been no point in his quest giver dragging him all this way out here. 

Yes. Arc Mage nodded. “You know how we say ‘to shadow’? To imitate? It cuts both ways. What we do to the shade affects the thing that casts it. We can take advantage of the identification with the true tower…” 

Then Arc Mage murmured, “I guess there’s no real point in discussing this,” and smiled. 

“Well, think of it like a hex. Step on a goblin’s shadow, and he’ll die. It’s the same logic.” 

“I understand,” Goblin Slayer said. He didn’t know anything about hexes. “That will do, then.” 

There was only one thing that mattered. 

He couldn’t understand this tower that had appeared out of nowhere, nor the goblins Arc Mage called shades. 

“What you are saying is, those goblins can be killed.” 

His next actions were swift as the wind. Once he knew what to do, there was no reason to hesitate. 

Goblin Slayer picked up some small stones lying in the wasteland, choosing the most well formed of them. 

“Here I go.” 

Even as he spoke, he was flinging the stone, then drawing his sword and rushing in. 

The goblin guard spotted him kicking his way out of the rosebush and opened his mouth. 

The stone flew toward him as if it had been waiting for this moment, smacking him in the brain stem and throwing him backward before he could shout. 

“GOROBBG?!” 

“One…!” 

The other guard tried to raise his spear, but Goblin Slayer slammed full into him. 

“GBB! GROBG!!” 

He deflected the crude spear tip with his shield, then slashed across the throat with his sword. 

“GRBBO?!” 

A dim geyser of blood arced through the twilight, staining the steel helmet. 

“That’s two.” 

He pulled out his sword and shook off the blood, drove it into the throat of the other, still-twitching, goblin, and said, “…If they bleed, then I agree. We can kill them.” 

Everything about them, right up to the way they felt under his blade, was like real goblins. And the corpses didn’t vanish, either. Being shades or shadows or whatever else seemed to make scant difference, and that was just as well. A goblin was a goblin. 

He wiped the blood and fat on one of the monsters’ loincloths, then picked up a short spear. Again, be it a shadow or whatever, as long as this weapon was real enough, it was no inconvenience to him. 

“We’ll go inside before we’re noticed. Come on.” 

“Sheesh, always in a hurry, you are… Ooh, wait just a second.” 

At his summons, Arc Mage tried to stand up from her place among the roses, making the bush rustle. Jogging carefully so as not to tread on the flowers, she came over and reached out to one of the goblin corpses. 

He thought she was about to pull out that curved knife, but he was wrong. 

“No time here. This will have to do for a disguise.” She chuckled and doused her fingers in the blood, smearing it onto her face in complicated patterns that looked like letters. When Goblin Slayer caught a whiff, it smelled to him like fresh ink. 

“Is that some kind of spell?” 

“Call it Flavor Text. Come on, let’s go!” 

Goblin Slayer nodded, and they passed through the entrance to the dark tower. 

§ 

I’ve never seen anything like it, but it just seems to repeat itself, Goblin Slayer thought as they worked their way through the tessellated tunnel with an item whose purpose he didn’t understand. 

Inside, the tower was like an especially convoluted maze. Was it made of metal? The passages went on and on seamlessly, no windows, barely large enough for the two of them to walk abreast. 

Before they had entered, he had thought they might need a torch, but although there was no visible source of light, it was surprisingly easy to see inside. For some reason, though, everything always faded into darkness at a set distance ahead of them. He had tried lobbing a lit torch into the gloom, but nothing changed, so he simply accepted that this was the way things worked here. 

“Your ability to take things for what they are is one of your virtues.” Arc Mage laughed, but… 

The most important thing was that they hadn’t yet run into a large crowd of goblins, but he didn’t like wasting time in transit. 

“Six…!” 

“GBBOR?!” 

Goblin Slayer smashed the edge of his shield into the nose of a goblin who was coming around the corner. It shattered the nose, stabbed into the brain, and the goblin fell back and expired, a bloody mess. 

The brain is a vital point, even for a goblin. Such was the conclusion he had come to after a great deal of fighting, reflection, investigation, and analysis. 

There was something to gain from each goblin he slaughtered, whether it was theoretical knowledge or practical skill. All was reference, all was practice, and all was experience. 

“Seven!” 

This, for example. 

Goblin Slayer hefted the spear in his hand and flung it as hard as he could down the passageway. It stabbed through the air, then through the chest of a goblin, delivering another fatal wound. 

He jumped on the gasping, blood-vomiting creature, breaking its neck. 

“Your throws are getting better and better.” Hee-hee. From a step or two behind him, Arc Mage restrained her laughter as she spoke. “Being able to take the initiative and attack anywhere, in a room or a hallway or wherever else—that makes you strong.” 

And unlike a bow and arrow, he didn’t need two hands to do it. 

Goblin Slayer nodded at this, then picked up a club from one of the goblins. “Do you know where we are going? If we get lost, we’ll be in trouble.” 

“No worries on that score,” Arc Mage said, making a broad and elegant gesture with her left hand. On it was the crackling glimmer of Spark. 

“This will be our guide—or maybe I should say, wherever I go, that’s where we want to be.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“The destination isn’t chosen by the spark but by its master.” 

Just keep going. Goblin Slayer heeded Arc Mage’s words. 

Despite several forks and a few chambers, the scenery never changed. The room they finally arrived at looked just like all the others, the only difference being a thick door amid all that empty space. 

No, there was another difference as well… 

“What is this?” 

Something like mist floated in front of the door, which appeared as if made of ebony and had no keyhole. 

Goblin Slayer ignored it at first, inspecting the door. It was good that it didn’t have a keyhole. But although it seemed like two doors that would open in the middle, there was no seam at the center. 

“Hmm… That would appear to make this the center of it all,” Arc Mage said, sounding at once amused and concerned as she started prodding at the mist. Each time she did so, the black haze would shift in its shape, jumping and popping like a bubble. “The true body that’s lost its form by casting this shadow… In other words, I think this is the key.” 

“Can you do anything about it?” 

“We just need to get this thing back into its proper form… I think?” 

“I don’t know,” Goblin Slayer replied, looking back the way they had come. 

He heard the gibbering voices of goblins. Maybe they had finally noticed something was wrong. 

Then there were stamping footsteps, and then more chattering. The sound of a medley of equipment smacking one against another. 

Under his helmet, he let out a breath. This would be relatively easy. No enemies behind, just the one entrance ahead. Much simpler than defending a village. This was a fight he couldn’t afford to lose—but that was as it always was. Nor was there any change in what he had to do. 

“I’ll leave that to you.” 

“Yes, well, I’ll give it the old college try,” she said bravely from behind him, and meanwhile, he met the first goblin to jump through the entrance with his club. 

“GOBORO?!” 

“Hmph.” 

The monster’s skull shattered, spraying bone and blood and brains everywhere. 

Goblin Slayer slammed the club into two or three more before he tossed it away and dropped into a deep stance. 

The grimy leather armor, the cheap-looking steel helmet. On his left arm was tied a small round shield, while in his right hand was a sword of a strange length. 

“GOB! GOOBBG!!” 

“This makes ten!” 

As the goblin shouted and flew at him, he swept his blade upward to catch him under the chin. 

“GOBOGO?!” 

The monster’s twitching corpse smacked into its neighbor as it landed. 

Without missing a beat, Goblin Slayer used his shield to catch the club swung by a goblin on the left, then swept, ignoring the numbness in his arm. 

“Eleven…!” When the monster stumbled, he jammed his sword into its throat. Blood came gushing out, polluting the hilt and his hand. Goblin Slayer immediately let go of the sword, taking an ax from the now-dead goblin as he kicked the corpse away. 

The goblins had shoved aside the body of the first monster he had killed and were closing in from the front. 

“Hrm…!” 

He deflected a spear with his shield, dealt out a blow with his ax. He gave no thought to restraint. The slaughter of them all was his only goal. 

“The enemy wants you dead! You think you can win when you don’t care if you hit them or not?” 

Thus said his master, while raining down a flurry of blows upon him. 

Draw your sword with the intent to kill, and think of restraint only after. 

Goblin Slayer took a deep breath, steadying his breathing; he pulled out the ax he had buried in a goblin’s head. 

“Ten, and two.” 

“GOROBG…” 

“GBBB…!” 

The goblins, unsure how to press the attack, growled hatefully at him. 

At this distance, smell could no longer cover for anything. 

A woman. There’s a woman there. A young woman. And it’s just the two of them. Take. Steal. 

The goblins made hideous faces, full of lust and hatred. Shades they may have been, but they were still goblins. Perhaps that made them worse. 

They had found a woman at last, and they were frustrated to discover their way blocked. Yes, they were the ones trying to attack her, but that didn’t give this adventurer the right to stop them. 

If only he weren’t there. This was his fault. 

“GRRGB! GBGOROGOB!” 

“GOROGG!” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t understand the goblin language. But somehow, he seemed to understand what the band of goblins was thinking all too easily. 

Now, how to kill them? 

His hand went to his ax as he thought, Let them come. The narrow entryway would keep them from ambushing him and hamper the effect of their numbers, and in a one-on-one fight with a goblin, he couldn’t lose. 

At least, not so long as his strength held out… 

“…What in the world?” 

This confidence kept him from feeling much concern even when he heard Arc Mage mutter in surprise behind him. 

“This is wrong, this isn’t right…!” 

“What is it?” 

“This sort of corporeal body isn’t supposed to exist! It’s not structurally possible!” 

“I see.” 

He’d never heard her sound so perplexed, or so worried, before. 

But why should he think that he could understand anything, let alone everything, about another person? 

“I can still hold them off,” he said. “For a while.” 

“Yeah, I know… Believe me, I know…!” 

He could hear her biting her thumbnail. But he was more interested in the actions of the goblins, who had begun to smile viciously when they heard the woman’s voice. 

“GGOBOGOBG!!” 

A leap. 

Perhaps the monster was trying to jump over not just the corpse of his companion, but even Goblin Slayer’s head. 

Goblin Slayer gave a deep sigh. He had plenty of strength left. 

“GOROR?!” 

“Thirteen.” 

He knew one goblin weak point: right between the legs. 

He delivered a merciless ax blow to that point. 

“GOBOGOBOGOOBO?!?!” 

The goblin gave an earsplitting howl, his eyes rolling back in his head as he twitched and thrashed. 

“GOROB?!” 

“Fourteen… Hrm.” 

The goblin screamed and fell backward, trying to extract the dagger from his eye, and there expired. 

Goblin Slayer nodded. So the eyes were soft. 

“That makes them vulnerable.” 

Sometime, he would have to come up with a way of blinding them. That was, if there was a sometime. 

He kicked a weapon from the goblin writhing at his feet into his hand. 

“GOROG! GGBOROGO!” 

“GOOROGBG!!” 

The din of battle continued. Arc Mage, meanwhile, frowned her handsome features, sweat and tears running down her face as she worked at the mist. 

It was indeed just like fog: try to catch hold of it, and you found yourself grasping empty air. 

But so what? 

That was no different from everything else. 

No different from everything she had achieved until now, everything she had obtained. 

She crouched on the floor, pulling a blackboard and chalk out of her bag. She began writing numbers furiously. 

All was numbers. Data was made of numbers. 

If the gods themselves were data, then even they could be understood, figured out. It had to be possible. 

One, two. Goblin Slayer continued to produce his pile of goblin corpses. In time with him, her brilliant brain began tying ambiguous things together, one, two. 

“…I see, I get it! I understand! It all…makes…sense!!” 

The cheer of triumph came when there were perhaps another ten dead goblins on the ground. Arc Mage threw aside the chalkboard, taking up the deck of cards she’d assembled into a spell book. 

“A projection of a higher dimension! It’s like drawing on paper—in other words, this is the shadow!” 

She gave a powerful tap to the floor of the dark tower as she stood. Then she turned over the cards in her hand, and with the whirlwind of magical powers that came welling up, she set upon the mist. 

“Three vertices, three lines. Four vertices, four faces. And if so, then one dimension higher, the smallest figure!” 

The words, like a spell, came fluently, slamming into the black fog one after another, turning them back from nothingness, changing them like a blooming flower. 

“…Meaning five vertices, five cells!” 

Clack. There was a sound as of something activating. 

Immediately, a single line appeared down the ebony door, a line of light that ran as if carved with a sword. 

Here openeth the dark tower! 

“YYYEEESSS!!” Arc Mage exclaimed in a voice that could have passed for a hunting horn. “Once you understand it, it’s nothing! Child’s play! Goblin Slayer!!” 

“…Yes.” 

He was in the middle of attacking his twenty-sixth goblin, jamming the broken tip of a short spear into the monster’s eye. When he pulled the spear back out, the eyeball came with it, ocular nerve and all. Goblin Slayer threw the whole thing away, spun on his heel, and started running. 

“GORO! GGBGOGOB!!” 

“GOROGB!!” 

With the impediment suddenly removed, the goblins rushed into the room like a dark flood. 

“Can you close the door, too?!” Goblin Slayer demanded. 

“Of course I can! Who do you think I—?” 

“Then do it…!” 

Goblin Slayer grabbed Arc Mage up in his arms, ignoring her little yelp. 

“Gah! You know, I think your treatment of women could use some refinement, you—!” 

“Just do it now!” 

Ignoring every objection and complaint, Goblin Slayer jumped directly through the door. Behind him, he could hear the gibbering, slavering goblins closing in. 

“I know, I know, you don’t have to shout,” Arc Mage groused from his shoulder. She made a motion with her fingers. In response, the black mist roiled and changed shape. 

“GOROOGGB!!” 

One goblin reached out, trying to force his way through the door—but it was too late. 

“You lot…are not invited.” 

The ebony portal closed without a sound, locking. 

The only thing left was a lone goblin arm, lying on the ground like a chopped nut. 

§ 

“…So what, exactly, was that?” Goblin Slayer asked as they climbed a seemingly endless spiral staircase. 

On the other side of the door was a set of stairs that corkscrewed around and around, so far it seemed like it might go on forever. Judging by the height of the tower, though, that was only natural, and neither the adventurer nor the quest giver complained. 

Goblin Slayer, though, certainly didn’t voice the question from an inability to stand the silence. 

“Mm, well,” Arc Mage said, puffing out her chest like a proud child. “It was a shade. Those who live in a world of lines and faces can’t comprehend height. We’re not so different, ourselves…” 

We know length, width, and height, but add another axis that springs from an additional dimension… 

Still, there was a knowing grin on her face. “…But we can see the shadow the thing casts and tease it out. If we know how, that is.” 

“So that was that strange object.” 

“You got it.” 

“Can the goblins break through it?” 

Hmm. She stopped, leaning against the wall for support. Goblin Slayer stopped as well, looking back at her. 

“Well,” she said, nodding, “I understand what you’re asking, but strictly speaking, the answer is no.” 

“It’s impossible for them?” 

“Not impossible. But it’s possible in the same way it would be possible for a monkey to write a novel by scrawling random letters.” 

Or like a random encounter with a dragon. Goblin Slayer grunted softly. 

The chance was greater than zero. That fact could inspire courage, or concern. By chance or by fate, what would happen would happen. To hell with the rest. 

“Then answer what I was actually asking.” 

“If you meant are there goblins up ahead, the answer is certainly.” Arc Mage gave a wave of her hand as if she were tossing a ball. “Those are shades, remember. You glance up, and poof, there they are. You can’t fathom where they come from.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Even I was surprised.” 

She gave her cider bottle a loving pat, then one of those kisses, drinking noisily from it. Phew! She let out a warm breath then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“I finally get a fix on my destination, and it turns out to be a goblin nest.” 

“That happens often.” Then Goblin Slayer elaborated quietly: “Very often.” 

“I wonder if we should chalk that up to fate, or to chance. It’s a puzzle.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“You’re no fun.” Arc Mage laughed aloud. Goblin Slayer ignored her, taking the next step, then the next. 

If there were goblins here, then he had to focus on being ready for them. Everything else was trivial. 

He pulled a stamina potion out of his bag, drinking it down in a single gulp the way Arc Mage drank her cider. There was no telling how high this tower was, how long the fight with the goblins would continue—so perhaps he should have nursed it a bit at a time. 

“Well, you don’t need to worry about anything other than goblins,” Arc Mage said, jogging up behind him, and she sounded very confident. “If this tower is for us, then that amorphous thing is my obstacle… In a word, the shade of a god.” 

“A god.” 

“What you might call an avatar or a spirit. It’s not easy to grasp the form of a deity. My mathematical formulas might even count as divine, you see?” 

A god. 

Goblin Slayer didn’t look back. The word felt so far from him. 

It wasn’t a goblin, and that meant it was of no interest. 

§ 

Arc Mage, indeed, was as good as her word. 

“Yes… Yes, yes!” She challenged the gods’ froth on the next level as well and achieved a brilliant victory. “When you know the rules and the formulae, the rest is calculation! Try that on for size! …Yes, I’m sure about this!” 

The blackboard and chalk had been summarily abandoned back on the second level. Now Arc Mage simply put a finger to her chin, muttered to herself for a moment, and then exclaimed, “It’s eight!” 

The amorphous foam reversed, shining like stars as it formed into a key that then opened the door forward. Goblin Slayer, who had been defending them against the encroaching goblins, immediately hefted Arc Mage up and ran through. 

“I thought I told you to learn some manners!” 

“Not interested.” 

All was repetition. On the third level, and the fourth, she didn’t even bother pretending to calculate. She would simply give the floor a hard tap with her foot then use the magic that swelled up to control her cards, opening the door on the spot. 

“Sixteen—,” it was, and then, “—Twenty-four!” 

And even so, it was like magic. 

Thankfully, it allowed Goblin Slayer to conserve a considerable amount of his strength. The goblins’ aggression didn’t seem to wane for having to climb the stairs. And if he couldn’t wipe them out all at once, then he would just have to keep up the work individually. 

He changed tactics, changed equipment, changed weapons, used every bit of his knowledge, relied on practiced movements, then switched to something different. He slashed throats, gouged eyeballs, split skulls, spilled viscera, smashed faces. The less work it took, the better. 

From that perspective, the fifth floor could be called just a bit of trouble. 

“Hrm, hrm, hrm… Well now, this sure is something else.” 

“Is it difficult?” Goblin Slayer asked, stepping on the neck of his hundred and second—or was that hundred and third?—goblin. 

“GOROOG! GBBGR!” 

“GRB!” 

His shoulders heaved with his breath. He fought to get his breathing under control then smashed another goblin with his shield. Despite a brief rest and some potions, the fatigue was undeniably building. The delving of massive, complex labyrinths was the work of powerful, Gold- or Platinum-ranked adventurers. Goblin Slayer, still among the lower ranks, had never imagined himself in such a world. 

But it is still better than the fight in the village, he concluded, thinking back to a defensive battle he had once fought, single-handedly covering an entire settlement. 

This was nothing. Compared to that fight, here he had only to worry about what was in front of him. And it wasn’t raining. 

Just one person to protect. Fresh weapons being brought to him by his own enemies. The only issues were strength and focus. 

“Difficult! Now, there’s a word!” Arc Mage let up a howl of her own. 

Difficult? Difficult, you say? Do you know who you’re talking to? She glared at the shade of the higher dimension with the look of a general surveying a battlefield then put her cards to work. 

“Just you look at this! A hundred and twenty? I could bring that together with one hand tied behind my back!” 

The thin air bubbled up, blossomed, and flowered into a key. The key turned in the lock. The door split silently in two. Arc Mage gave a triumphant chuckle. “The way has been opened! Let’s go—we’ve no time to dally with goblins!” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t answer but only said, “One hundred and five,” as he stabbed a goblin in the neck. 

“GOOBGGRGRG?!” 

The monster screamed and fell back; Goblin Slayer let the sword go, picking up a club at his feet. 

“It is not easy to annihilate them all.” 

“I told you, they’ll keep on spawning forever! But we have limited resources!” 

Goblin Slayer gave a click of his tongue and turned quickly. Arc Mage appeared to have learned from experience; she was already heading through the door. 

“I don’t ever want you lugging me around again!” she exclaimed as Goblin Slayer followed after her. 

“GOOBGRG!” 

“GB! GBOOR!” 

The goblins jabbered behind them, but then the door shut tight, locking them out. 

They were once again at the bottom of a massive spiral staircase. Goblin Slayer let out a deep breath. 

“I don’t like it.” 

“What don’t you like?” Arc Mage asked, looking puzzled as she made to start climbing the stairs. She took a small, reluctant sip of her remaining cider, the bottle now mostly empty. 

“The thought of what would happen if these goblins got out of this tower.” 

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. And here I thought you were worrying about how to get home.” 

Goblin Slayer shook his head. The only directions to go were up and down; the job at hand would not change. 

“Well, don’t sweat it. They only exist inside the shade of the tower.” 

“So they can’t leave it?” 

“And when the sun goes down, shadows disappear. They’re only here when the tower is. Most likely…” She looked up the stairs with a dreamy expression. “…when I arrive, that’ll be the end of it.” 

“I see,” he said curtly. 

Arc Mage looked at him in exasperation then laughed aloud. She put her hands on her stomach, almost rolling around, reminding him of the first time they’d met. 

“You really are a special one! Aren’t you curious at all about what’s in here or what I’m trying to do?” 

“That doesn’t interest me,” he said, shaking his head. “Or…” 

Arc Mage had settled herself on the stairs and rested her chin in her hands, eagerly awaiting what he would say next. 

Goblin Slayer gave one of those quiet grunts of his then went on softly, “…My teacher told me that all things come down to do or do not.” 

“A rhea teacher,” Arc Mage said, squinting. “He didn’t say success or failure?” 

“Success and failure both come about because of doing. If you do not, they never occur.” 

This was the first time he had said this to anybody. He didn’t understand why he had chosen to say it now. 

I believe it, he whispered. I didn’t do it. Didn’t attempt it. That’s why. 

“I don’t question what other people decide to do.” 

“As long as it doesn’t get in the way of killing goblins, you mean?” 

“That’s right.” 

Arc Mage nodded. She looked genuinely, profoundly happy. “Now I know getting you for my quests was the right choice, Goblin Slayer.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Heh!” She gave a nasal chuckle then got lightly to her feet. “All right, let’s go! Your quest giver’s destination is just up ahead, dear adventurer!” 

Do you really know that? To Goblin Slayer’s inquiry, Arc Mage replied that of course she did. 

“Four, six, eight, twelve, twenty. These five are the basis for the shapes of things as we know them.” 

They climbed the stairs, going into a hallway out of which goblins poured. They silenced their footsteps, silenced their breathing, and, finally, silenced the goblins, proceeding ever deeper. 

It was a different level, and the details varied subtly, but the layout was basically the same as all the others. They were obviously aiming for a chamber in the center of the tower, and quest giver and adventurer alike proceeded without hesitation. 

In fact, so long as Spark shined on her finger, there would be no hesitation. 

“So far, the shadows cast into this tower have been five, eight, sixteen, twenty-four, and one hundred and twenty.” 

“Five of them.” Goblin Slayer brought his hand around at a goblin behind him, slashing the monster’s throat. There was a whistling sound and a geyser of blood. He waited until the creature was dead then cast the corpse away. 

“That’s why I think we’ve hit the end here. I think five should work again.” 

“Is that so?” 

“To be fair, we won’t know for sure until we try…” 

In any event, it was just as she said. 

There was the ebony door in what was presumably the final room—and before it, again, a shadow. Arc Mage frowned. “I hate to admit it, but I’ve miscalculated,” she said. “But anyway, the principle’s the same. We’ll manage.” 

“Is that so?” Goblin Slayer nodded. “Then I will keep doing my job.” 

“GOOBOGR! GOOROG!” 

“GGOBOGOB!!” 

Even the voices of the goblins coming up from behind were the same. Goblin Slayer forced his body, growing ever heavier, to move, taking up a position to defend the door. He produced another stamina potion from his bag. Not many left now. He gulped it down. 

“GOROOGB!” 

“…I’ve lost track of the numbers.” He clicked his tongue and pitched the bottle away. It smashed open along with the skull of the goblin it hit, and the battle began. “That’s one.” 

“Add one hundred five and twelve to that,” Arc Mage said without turning around. Goblin Slayer harrumphed softly. 

“One hundred eighteen.” 

Then he swung the club in his hand, slamming it into the next goblin. 

“GOOBOG?!” 

“That’s one hundred nineteen!” 

§ 

Slice the goblins, stab them, hit them, strike them, fling things at them, and, finally, kill them. 

“GGOBOGR?!” 

“GOOGRB! GBOG!!” 

In a word, Goblin Slayer went about producing a mountain of corpses. 

No matter how many he murdered in that narrow entranceway, no matter how many bodies piled up, their aggression never waned. Was it because they were shades, or simply because they were goblins? The attackers merely used the corpses of their fellows as shields, flinging stones from behind them. 

“………Hrm.” 

The rocks bounced off his shield and his helmet with a dull popping sound. His arm was numb. He had to fight to hold his head up. A hit to his shoulder had gone through the armor to his flesh, and now he was slower to move his shield. 

“Ohh, ah!!” 

“GOROOBG!!” 

One goblin saw his chance and came rushing out from behind the barrier. Goblin Slayer tossed his sword, which had nearly slipped out of his hand, at the monster, keeping him at bay. He staggered backward with the sword lodged in his throat, coughing up blood until he tumbled to the ground. 

Happily for Goblin Slayer, he had an armory’s worth of weapons there at his feet. He kicked a club up into his hand, almost groaning as he tried to even out his breath. The goblins understood well how to use their numbers to their advantage; whether this was instinctive or deliberate, he didn’t know. They would try to rush forward and take all the glory, or use their foolish compatriots as decoys. 

It was not that the goblins didn’t fear death. Each was simply, albeit baselessly, certain that he alone among the horde would not die. 

As the onslaught continued, Goblin Slayer’s strength began to ebb. The battle to get here had been nothing compared to the war he was waging now. It was his experience defending that village which allowed him to make the jump to this battle. 

In that case, he’d had plenty of time to establish defenses. If only he could have built some kind of barricade right now. 

I don’t have enough hands. 

They were only goblins. The weakest of all monsters. No matter how hard they fought, that fact remained. 

But the sheer quantity of them could be enough to bring low a party of adventurers. Let alone a single adventurer all by himself. 

Goblin Slayer had learned that lesson by now. Whether he would live to make use of it was another question. 

“Damn… What the hell is wrong here?!” 

The situation wasn’t lost on Arc Mage. She was smart enough. She had to understand. And that only made her the more panicked. Sweat dripped down her brow. 

Desperately wracking her brain to deal with her own foe, the shadow floating in the air, she was faced with one cruel fact. 

“…It’s going to take too much time!” 

She knew. 

She understood. 

She knew what this meant—and she knew all too well. 

“This goes beyond the hundred and twenty earlier. This… This is six hundred!” 

A six-hundred polychoron—an entity that easily surpassed anything Arc Mage had imagined. 

She could fathom it. She could imagine it. 

And yet, even yet, how much time would it take to calculate it? 

How much time had she spent getting here? 

How much time offering her life to the game board, meeting her master, honing her knowledge, running this way and that— 

“Still not enough time…?!” 

Her vision blurred. She knew. It wasn’t that she was bitter or sad. It was just the natural byproduct of heightened emotions, or so she kept telling herself. And thus, she didn’t even give herself the time to wipe the tears from her eyes but continued her challenge to divine providence. 

For the same reason, Goblin Slayer had to buy them every minute, every second he could. 

“GOROBBG?!” 

“Oh-hh—!!” 

How many now? He had forgotten the number she’d told him earlier. 

His breath came in ragged gasps. The oxygen wasn’t reaching his brain. 

Was it his master who had guffawed and informed him that his brain was only useful for making snot? 

And no one ever died from a lack of snot… 

“GBB! GOROBG!” 

“…Feh!” 

Something struck his foot. A goblin had crawled through the mountain of corpses and brought a dagger down on it. 

Try as he might to count the number of kills, but in the midst of this battle, he could hardly make sure it actually tallied up with the number of corpses. 

Of course, Goblin Slayer was ready for this; he made sure to protect his feet. The blade didn’t touch his body. 

He did, however, feel his footing grow unsteady: goblin blood. He shifted his hip to catch himself, and that was when the goblins pressed in. 

“GOBB!” 

“GROGGB! GROB!!” 

“Ahh!!” 

He gritted his teeth and rolled sideways, lashing out with his club. A couple of goblins he caught in the shin yelped and fell down. A third goblin went tumbling over them. 

Goblin Slayer felt a shock of fear. He couldn’t allow them past him. Must not let them get to her. 

One goblin made a beeline for the defenseless woman behind the adventurer, probably making some hideous face. Goblin Slayer slapped the floor tiles, stretching himself out. 

An impact at his back. Other goblins in the way. He ignored them. 

Then he let go of his club and grabbed the goblin’s foot with his right hand. He had hold of it. He pulled. 

“Hrr—ahhh!” 

“GBBBOR?!” 

The shield in his left hand flashed up toward the back of the head. The edge of the shield split the head, and blood came gushing out. 

He didn’t have even a second to spare. The goblins were pressing in. A weapon. He needed a weapon… 

“I’ve…got one…!” 

He lifted up the still-twitching goblin corpse. Then, using it like a shield, he slammed it into the horde of enemies. 

“GOOBOGR?!” 

“GOOB?!” 

Quantity would always have certain advantages, but so would quality. 

The armor-clad adventurer added his own weight to that of the corpse as he shoved. He slammed into several goblins at once, pushing them back outside the chamber. 

“Hrr, uh…!” 

Goblin Slayer let out a great breath, noticing the fresh pool of blood forming beneath him. The dull ache in his back was not, it seemed, from a club or other blunt weapon. He reached around behind himself to find an ax had shattered his armor and wounded him in the back. Perfect. This was a weapon. 

He pulled it out, ignoring the flow of blood. A stunning pain lanced through him, but he held his breath and bore it. 

“How much…longer?” There was the slightest quaver in his voice as he asked the question. 

“I don’t… I don’t know…!” The strangled response sounded to Goblin Slayer like the speaker might burst into tears at any moment. “I can solve it. I can tease it out. I will. But—but I just don’t have enough…time!!” 

Goblin Slayer took a breath in, let it out. 

“You don’t?” 

“No…! Damn! To come this far, all for… Arrgh, damn it all…” 

Arc Mage stopped talking for a moment. She took a few hesitant, shallow breaths, as if unsure whether to say anything further. 

Then she spoke. 

“This was supposed to be my scenario, my adventure. I’m…sorry for dragging you into it.” 

“It’s a goblin-hunting scenario,” Goblin Slayer replied evenly. “There is no problem.” 

It was nothing but problems. Under his steel helmet, Goblin Slayer’s lips tugged upward. 

In front of his eyes was a goblin horde. Behind him was the quest giver. He was injured and exhausted. He would soon reach his limit. The effect of a stamina potion was essentially an advance on your own vitality. Beyond that limit, there was no more strength. 

By hook or by crook, if he could kill goblins, then it was no chore for him. 

Ah yes, but… 

What have I got in my pocket? 

It was one of the riddles his master had asked him. 

He never had figured out the answer. Perhaps it had been a ring of some sort. 

But he did know what he had in his pocket at that moment. 

“My hands.” 

It was ever thus. 

It was not a question of able or unable, nor of whether things would go well or poorly. 

It was only do or do not. 

First, Goblin Slayer took the ax in his hand and threw it. It spun through the air, struck a goblin in the head handle first, then bounced off him and lodged its blade in the head of the goblin next to him. 

“GOROOOOBB!” 

“GGGB! GOOBG!” 

The goblins howled and yammered. Goblin Slayer reached into his bag and drew out a certain item. 

“I will buy us time.” 

And then, weaponless, he walked forward, into the maelstrom of goblins. 

“GOOBOG!” 

“GBBB! GBGO!” 

Empty-handed fighting. The goblins laughed out loud to see him walk toward them, looking pathetic with his panoply of injuries. Arc Mage looked up with the distinct sense that the laughter was mocking her. 

“Buy us time?” 

The shapeless mist was in front of her. 

Under her feet ran the blood of goblins, or of Goblin Slayer—she didn’t know which. 

If she turned around, she assumed she would find a sea of blood. But she didn’t turn around. 

“I…am such…an idiot!” 

If you have no time, just buy some. 

It was so simple! Why hadn’t she considered that fact sooner? 

Arc Mage gave the crimson pool under her foot a powerful tap. 

She gave herself over to the flow of red magic that came welling up, putting her hand to her deck of cards, to the spell book she had compiled. 

“You, lightning, follow after me—!” 

One card torn in half. An incantation shouted. 

The red bolt of lightning emerging beneath her feet flashed as if to bless what she willed. And on her finger, the spark shimmered. 

“Expedite!” 

Arc Mage accelerated, leaving the world behind. Her flesh, her thinking, her very mind. As a result, she didn’t fully register what had happened until it was all over. 

Goblins poured in from the entryway of the chamber. Pressing forward, coming close. 

Goblin Slayer moved toward them, something grasped in his hand. 

He thought he could hear the sound of dice rolling somewhere far away. He didn’t like it at all. 

He had no intention of trusting his quest giver’s life to any such thing. 

“GOBBGR!” 

“GOR! GROOOBG!!” 

The goblins crashed in like a surging wave— No. Goblin Slayer knew what a true wave was. He had never seen one, but he had learned about them. 

“Take this, you fiends!” 

An instant later, the scroll he had untied exploded stupendously. 

No, it only appeared to explode. 

It was in fact a geyser of water that blocked out vision. An overpowering stench of salt. 

Goblin Slayer had never seen the ocean, but he had learned that this was how it smelled. 

“GOOBOGR?!” 

“GGO?! GOROG?!” 

The goblins, though, had no way of knowing that. They didn’t even have a moment to contemplate what had happened. 

They would never have conceived that the water had come spewing out of the scroll held by the man in front of them. 

The goblins screamed, their bodies torn apart by a rush of high-pressure seawater. Resistance was simply futile. 

Goblin Slayer was confident that the water would fill the tower from top to bottom. 

The plan he had thought of when Witch had told him about Gate scrolls worked beautifully. She had been in high spirits when he asked her for help, dubbing him “Most interesting.” 

“I agree,” Goblin Slayer muttered, tossing aside the scroll as a supernatural flame consumed it and sitting down. “This is most interesting indeed.” 

§ 

He was greeted with a bizarre sight. 

Goblin Slayer had never seen anything like it before; it looked like something that shouldn’t exist in this world. 

A four-sided crystal twisted in upon itself, writhing and projecting rays like tentacles. It appeared like a chaotic roil of bubbles, and when he looked directly at it, he couldn’t pin down its shape—something phantasmal. 

This was the six-hundred polychoron, as Arc Mage had called it. He didn’t particularly understand the expression. 

He did, however, understand that the door had been unlocked and opened, and that was all he needed to know. 

“You do know how to pull a crazy stunt, don’t you?” Arc Mage said as they pushed open the ebony door and began to climb slowly up a long golden spiral staircase. “A water attack? I wonder what you planned to do if the tower collapsed. Same question goes for a cave. You’d be buried alive.” 

“It was the first time I’ve tried it,” he said defensively. “It was effective, but it wouldn’t be versatile.” 

“No kidding.” Arc Mage didn’t sound very happy. “Can’t go betting your life on an unreliable trump card.” 

One step, two steps, three. She almost seemed like she was about to start skipping up the stairs; she turned to face him in a spin that was nearly a twirl. The smell of cider drifted to him, and he stopped walking. 

A finger was pointed directly at the visor of his helmet. 

“By hook or by crook, if you can win, then it’s never a chore.” 

“Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “I will be careful.” 

“Good.” Arc Mage puffed out her chest, pleased, and nodded like an instructor. The two of them resumed walking. 

The stairs seemed to go on forever—forever and ever. The only sounds were their footsteps and their breathing, and the lack of windows meant the dark inner wall wound upward, on and on. 

They had no idea how high they were, nor what time it was. Most likely, dawn would be breaking soon. But now they were probably still in the last watches of the night. Goblin Slayer considered the matter idly. He couldn’t say why he thought this. He just did. 

Arc Mage and Goblin Slayer were both at the limits of their endurance. Their steps were unsteady, their vision wavered. Their breath came in short gasps. Their feet dragged like stones. 

But for one reason or another, they took no rest. They only acknowledged the fact of their fatigue; the desire to take a break didn’t enter into their minds. 

They continued climbing the stairs, silently. 

They kept climbing, so why did it feel as if they were traveling down the center of the spiral? Suddenly, Goblin Slayer thought he caught a heart-aching aroma of stew. 

It had to be his imagination. A product of the exhaustion. 

With that, he cast aside all his doubts. 

And thus—not, perhaps, because of this, but all the same—the next thing he knew, there were no more steps to climb. 

They had arrived at a landing, at the very top of the spiral staircase. In front of them was—of course—an ebony door. 

“…” Arc Mage brushed her hand along it, almost a caress. It was designed like a double door, but there was no seam. “…I’m gonna open it, okay?” 

Goblin Slayer nodded. Arc Mage placed her trembling palm against the door. 

She didn’t push very hard; the door seemed to open of its own accord, beckoning them inward. And then… 

Fwoo. There was a breath of wind. 

It was the sky. 

Dark blue, then red, then white, the clear night sky. 

Clouds drifted by, a pale blue color, a whole train of little wisps carried by the wind. 

This very landing was the edge of the world. And so what was beyond must be that which was completely beyond. 

Arc Mage looked at the door, the door to empty space, as if she might burst into tears at any moment…and smiled. 

Ahh, so this is it. Or perhaps, I finally made it. 

The difference between the two emotions was subtle, and Goblin Slayer couldn’t decide which it was. 

“Satisfied?” 

“Yes, no.” She blinked several times, then gently rubbed the corners of her eyes. “It’s not quite over.” 

“I see.” 

“The place I want to go, it’s past here. So I have to go on.” 

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said again, then nodded and looked at the sky. 

He had once climbed a snowy mountain with his master, and the view from the summit had looked much like this. 

He remembered his master humming some sort of song. He didn’t much understand poems or songs, so he had forgotten it—but now he wondered if it might have been good to remember it. 

“Ahh, now I see… So that’s the story.” Arc Mage spoke suddenly, her voice small. She put a hand to her ample chest, took in a deep breath, and let it out. Spark glittered on her finger as it rose and fell in time with her breathing. 

Then she looked at him with a smile as clear and soft as the sky itself. 

She looked at him, under his helmet, hidden behind his visor. 

“I’m sorry about all this. It looks like I’ve dragged you into my own scenario.” 

She had said the same thing to him before. So he answered the same way he had then. 

“It’s a goblin-hunting scenario, isn’t it?” 

So it is. And it had been, from the very beginning to the bitter end. 

Goblin Slayer said calmly, “You talk too much, but you tell me what’s important. There is no problem.” 

Arc Mage looked at him in surprise, then pursed her lips a little almost as if pouting. “You… You are truly a strange man.” 

“Is that so?” 

“I should certainly think so.” 

“I see.” 

He nodded, and she let out a chuckle rather like the one she’d given when they first met, but somehow different. 

“Say,” Arc Mage said, looking at him curiously. “Do you know that old legend…the one about the giant who spent an eternity trying to scoop out the ocean with a shell?” 

Goblin Slayer thought a moment before he answered. “No, I don’t know it.” 

He had a vague sense he might have heard it once from his sister but found he couldn’t quite remember. 

There were so many things he had forgotten or didn’t know. About his sister. About his master. 

“What about it?” 

“…The giant scooped all the way down to the bottom of the sea, where he found a rare treasure, a jewel beneath the waves. Or so they say.” 

“I see.” 

“That’s why I won’t laugh.” 

“…” 

“I won’t laugh if you become Goblin Slayer.” 

Goblin Slayer didn’t say anything. 

Arc Mage squinted as if she was satisfied with that, then reached out her hand to the sky, though she knew it couldn’t touch what she desired. 

On her finger, the ring flickered. 

“I told you once. Your knowledge is a spark.” 

Sometimes a person goes through life without ever striking a spark. 

Sometimes they go on some adventure, die in some deep, dark place, and that’s the end for them. 

The words seemed to pile up on her outstretched hand. 

“But still, there’s a spark.” Just like so many of those who dare to become adventurers… “You have one, too.” 

So I won’t laugh. 

Goblin Slayer didn’t immediately respond to her. He moved his helmet, looked at the sky. The sky, just streaked with the first hints of golden daybreak. 

He didn’t know what he ought to say, nor what he ought to do. 

“…And what about yours?” 

“My…?” When he finally produced a question, Arc Mage squinted against the brilliance of the sun and answered, “I don’t know. That’s what I’m going to find out.” Then she slowly removed the Spark ring and held it out to Goblin Slayer. “On the way home… No, on the way forward, you’ll need this, won’t you? 

“I’m leaving the rest up to you,” she said, then winked awkwardly. 

“Think of it as…your reward. In advance.” 

“My reward,” Goblin Slayer murmured, eliciting a quiet “Uh-huh” from Arc Mage. 

“For everything I’ve asked of you on this quest, and beyond.” 

“…” 

“Ask the receptionist to fill you in on the details. You two are close, right?” 

Were they? Goblin Slayer didn’t know. 

Was he, in fact, close to anyone? 

Thus, he thought for a moment, then decided to ask about the only thing he needed to know. 

“…Will it help me hunt goblins?” 

“Personally, I hope so.” 

I see. Goblin Slayer nodded. Then he took the ring. 

She said the Spark ring had the power of Breath. If he was going to keep drowning enemies—for that matter, even if he wasn’t—it couldn’t hurt to have it. 

Whether anything would be of help, or not, was entirely his responsibility. That was what his master had taught him. 

So he would make it useful. He decided on that then and there. 

When she saw Goblin Slayer nod, she brushed his helmet with her now ringless hand. 

“Well, see you.” 

And with those few words, she stepped out into the sky as casually as if she were walking out her front door. 

Then she disappeared from Goblin Slayer’s vision. 

He waited and watched for a moment, but saw no sign that she would return. 

He didn’t know where she had gone, nor did he care. He assumed that no matter how carefully it was explained to him, he would never have understood. 

She was not a party member. Nor had they adventured together. 

If someone asked what she was to him, the answer was that they were quest giver and adventurer. Not friends, or anything else. 

But perhaps, if pressed, he might have admitted that they had been what she had once called them. 

Traveling companions. 

Goblin Slayer looked in his hand. The ring glowed faintly. The shimmer of the Spark was fading as if it had never existed. 

It was nothing more than a Breath ring now. 

He stuffed it into his item pouch, then slowly started walking. He could hear the door close behind him, but he didn’t even think of looking back. 

When he began to attempt the long climb down the stairs, he found that the height was not so great, and he moved from floor to floor in almost no time at all. 

But water had pooled here and there, goblin corpses floating in it. 

Ah: indeed, he did need the ring. 

He put it on his finger, and without hesitation, he dove into the water. He walked as if he were swimming, until he reached dry land, then he went under again and repeated the process. 

In the blink of an eye, he had descended to the first floor. And when he emerged and looked back, the tower was vanishing like a shadow. The dawn sky seemed to go on forever as the sun emerged over the ridge of the mountains. 

He squinted into the golden light and found he had a mysterious certainty that he would not see her again. 

He went back to town, back to the Guild, and reported the quest complete, then stopped by the tavern. He ordered a mug of apple cider, which the chef silently handed to him, and which he drank in a single gulp before going back outside. 

Beyond the crowded street, he could see the great, wide sky. He squinted behind his visor, holding the ring he’d received up to the light. 

He could see there no glow of any spark. 

She had said that one aspires to the summit because they want that place, they want the view, or they want whatever is beyond it. In that case…she must have wanted whatever was beyond this sky, whatever was past it. 

He had no idea what might be out beyond the “board.” No idea what she could have been seeking there. 

A playing piece could hardly imagine the province of the players in heaven. 

So maybe she had gone to uncover the truth of it all. 

Maybe her aspiration had been to become a player herself. 

That was as far as Goblin Slayer thought before slowly shaking his head back and forth. 

It was far too presumptuous a thing for him to imagine. That had been her scenario, not his. He had been only a traveling companion, and in no position to judge the fruit of her labor. 

Whatever trials they had overcome, whatever benefit they had received—it was all hers. 

His stride was less certain now. Exhaustion weighed on every inch of him, and the cider had started to reach his brain. 

Even so, his heart felt clear as the sky. 

There was just one thing he could say with confidence. 

She achieved what she wanted.