Goblin Slayer, Vol. 15

Heavy Warrior and Centaur Waitress looked at each other, both utterly confused.

§

“…I’m really not much for urban adventuring.”

“I see.” The bluntest possible answer. Goblin Slayer’s grimy metal helmet shook from side to side.

The Adventurers Guild was filled with a pleasant burble that was, effectively, peace. In the waiting area, adventurers clad in and carrying every imaginable kind of equipment sat on the benches or otherwise congregated. Every single one of them seemed to be staring at Heavy Warrior, who was looking weak and out of sorts. Virtually no one outside his party had ever witnessed him this way, for the only times he’d acted anything like this were perhaps on his very first adventure—when he’d smacked his huge sword directly into a wall—and when he’d been sweating a promotion.

It was clear that the cause of his distress on this occasion was Female Knight, who was standing behind him and looking royally angry. Or did it have to do with the two centaur women standing some distance away? The smaller one was glaring around intimidatingly, trying to protect her rather confused older sister.

The young centaur girl had her black hair tied up and carried a huge katana and a giant bow across her back. Her hands and all four of her legs were armored in leather—lightly, by human standards.

“It looks a bit like the sort of equipment an elf would wear,” observed Priestess with some admiration.

“I believe those are the weapons and armor of the people of the plain,” Lizard Priest said, shaking his head on its long neck.

Not long ago, the young cleric might have been in a tizzy about this, but now she was unfazed.

Heavy Warrior cast a resentful gaze at Goblin Slayer. The malign influence he was having on this purehearted young girl!

“I don’t know the circumstances,” Goblin Slayer said.

“Well, neither do I!” Heavy Warrior insisted. He sighed, clearly
at the end of his rope. If he didn’t know what was going on, then of course Goblin Slayer wouldn’t.

The grimy adventurer and the adventurer whose weapons had been taken from him: One would never have imagined they were both Silver-ranked. They glared silently at each other.

Recognizing how thoroughly unproductive the moment was, Female Knight finally came up and jabbed Heavy Warrior in the back of the head. “This is your fault, blast it.”

“How is this my fault?”

“You’re the one who tried to get a hand on that girl’s older sister and her princess.”

“I didn’t try to
get a hand
on anything!” Heavy Warrior groaned. “Not on anyone’s older sister and not on any princess.”

Female Knight glared as if to say,
Excuse me?
Heavy Warrior could only sigh for the umpteenth time.

Bloodshed at a tavern was hardly unusual, but nobody wanted things to get out of hand. He’d given the tavern keeper a few coins for the trouble, left the centaur waitress to talk down her little sister, and made his retreat. He’d figured everyone would have cooled off by the next morning. And yet, now here he was.

He’d found Female Knight charging into his room in the morning, grabbing him by the nape of his neck, and dragging him to the Guild…

“And how exactly am I supposed to find this princess?” Heavy Warrior asked.

This one scruffy warrior was the only person he could turn to—what was he supposed to do? The high elf girl was watching the scene with undisguised amusement, while Dwarf Shaman seemed to be treating it as a show to accompany his meal. Heavy Warrior’s accountant and the kids had promptly looked at him like a pariah and beaten feet.

Maybe if Spearman had been here…

Naw. He’d have laughed himself sick about this.

But Spearman wasn’t an option, because he wasn’t there. He and his partner were off on an adventure at the moment. Thank the gods.

“She’s looking for a princess?” Goblin Slayer asked.

“That’s what she says,” Heavy Warrior replied.

“Hmm.”

“I was just having a drink! I only said I was finally done sharpening my sword, and I could go on an adventure tomorrow.”

“I see.”

Heavy Warrior nodded at Goblin Slayer, who mumbled his various responses, and repeated: “I’m really not much for urban adventuring…”

“I see.” The helmet shook again, and then the two men lapsed into silence. If left to their own devices, they seemed likely to go on like this forever, until the end of time.

Female Knight, however, had finally had enough. “Argh! We’re not getting anywhere!”

Maybe it was her wish for an explanation that prompted Centaur Waitress to seize the moment. She clopped up to the group, holding her little sister by the hand—well, more like her sister refused to let go. “Uh, I’m sorry about her. Really.”

“Sister! You don’t have to apologize!” the younger centaur girl shouted, looking as if she might draw her sword at any moment. She was obviously not in the mood for discussion. “This man is at fault, and he alone!”

“See, this
is
all your fault,” Female Knight said with a glare at Heavy Warrior, who stared helplessly up at the ceiling. He had never wished so desperately that the Supreme God would come and pass judgment himself. But the knight’s deity had entrusted righteousness and justice and whatever else to humans. Maybe this was just another divine trial.

“Um…”

The Supreme God refused to intervene, but the Earth Mother stuck up for him.

“Maybe we could start by going over exactly what’s happening. Slowly. From the beginning.” Priestess was speaking to the centaur girl, nervously but not haltingly at all. Her collection of adventures and experiences had progressively shaped her into a real adventurer in her own right. “Fighting here is just going to cause trouble for everyone…”

Okay, so her motive wasn’t deep compassion for Heavy Warrior—she cast a quick glance at the Guild reception desk. Guild Girl was standing there with a key in her hand and the kind of smile Heavy Warrior had never seen her make.

“She’s quite right,” said Guild Girl. “Perhaps you’d come talk over here?” Her language was so polite, yet it likewise brooked no argument.

Female Knight was on the move before Heavy Warrior could even try to stop her. “Yes, thanks, that sounds like a great idea.”

“Not at all. Please let me know if I can be of help in any way.” The key to the meeting room was reverently passed from Guild Girl’s hand to Female Knight’s.

“Okay, upstairs. You bunch of scoundrels…” Female Knight looked triumphant, grabbing Heavy Warrior’s arm with a grip every bit as irrefutable as Guild Girl’s pleasantries. That the Supreme God didn’t see fit to punish her implied this was according to his will…

Looks like it’s me against the world right now
, Heavy Warrior thought. He nodded at Female Knight, looking like a prisoner about to be led to his execution.

§

“Okay, what’s going on here?”

“Yes, do tell.”

“Hey, don’t ask me!” Heavy Warrior sank onto the bench, defeated, as High Elf Archer and Female Knight interrogated him, the elf’s eyes shining and the knight’s sharp as steel.

The meeting room on the second floor of the Adventurers Guild was by no means a small space—but with two centaurs and a lizardman crammed into it, it did start to feel a little claustrophobic. The room had been designed by humans, and although people of every kind came through the Guild, the builders probably hadn’t designed the place with centaurs in mind. And if they had, then humans would probably have found the results pretty uncomfortable.

“Uh… Ha-ha… I’m sorry, y’know? Really,” said Centaur Waitress, whose legs were bent uncomfortably in order to fit in her seat.

Lizard Priest, ever the gentleman, responded with a friendly nod.
“Goodness, fear not. You were simply dragged into this, it seems.” But even the lizardman’s decency couldn’t spare him a glare from Centaur Waitress’s younger sister, who still hadn’t left her side.

Heavy Warrior had hoped the young woman might have come to her senses after spending the last night with her older sister, but she’d done nothing of the sort. In fact, she looked ready to draw her blade at any moment, as if she was poised to face down an army. In her mind, this was enemy territory, and she was right in the middle of it.

“Ever since last night, she hasn’t stopped talking about how the princess is missing and she’s come to find her,” Centaur Waitress said, sounding downright hopeless.

“Hmm.” Dwarf Shaman, who had been listening throughout the course of the conversation, grabbed a tipple and then asked, “This princess—she belongs to your people?”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s like…” Centaur Waitress made a gesture at the hair by her forehead, then traced it along her nose. “She had this one lock of white hair in her bangs. It looked like a silver star. Beautiful and awe-inspiring.”

“And now she’s gone?”

“She always was a bit of a tomboy—not that I’m one to talk! Ha-ha-ha!” Centaur Waitress laughed loudly, but even her attempt at cheerfulness couldn’t take the edge off the atmosphere in the room.

“All right, out with it,” Female Knight said, closing in on Heavy Warrior—even though this seemed less and less likely to have anything to do with him. At least, that’s what the other adventurers thought (except maybe Goblin Slayer; it was hard to tell with him). They nodded at one another.

Only one person in the room knew what was really going on.

High Elf Archer turned her eyes with their starlike sparkle on the younger centaur. “Guess there’s nothing for it but to…”

“…!”

“…ask you…” High Elf Archer trailed off, smiling ruefully at the brutal glare she received in return. She waved her hand dismissively, as if to say there was no hope here. If the centaur was willing to take that attitude even with a high elf, it at least proved that she didn’t want for courage.

However, this was no way to have a conversation. And if they couldn’t talk, then nothing was going to be solved. Just as they were trying to think of what to do:

“Um…”

There was a rustle of cloth, and as naturally as anything, Priestess was kneeling in front of the younger centaur. The centaur, who had knelt down on the carpet, yelped an “urk” and looked startled to find someone at eye level.

“I’m sure you’re worried about your princess. But you can’t figure out what to do on your own, can you?” Priestess asked.

“…”

The centaur didn’t respond, but Priestess, taking this as confirmation, said, “I thought so.” She nodded briefly and smiled. If the girl hadn’t needed help, why would she have come all the way to an unfamiliar human settlement to seek out her older sister?

Priestess didn’t say anything like,
It’s okay
or
It’ll be all right
. Instead, she whispered, “Come,” and placed her palm atop the centaur girl’s clenched fist. “Do you think you could tell us what’s going on? Maybe we’ll be able to help you somehow.”

“……”

The girl remained silent for a long moment, meeting Priestess’s blue eyes with a close-range glare, but finally she asked hesitantly, “How do you think you can do that, exactly?”

“Well, let’s see…,” Priestess said, putting a slim finger to her lips and looking theatrically thoughtful. “At the very least, if you’ll share your story with us, we can all think about what to do together.”

“……”

Once again, the centaur was silent. She looked at Priestess, who was waiting anxiously for her response, then at her older sister, standing to one side. Centaur Waitress brushed the girl’s cheek, then let her hand run along her neck, as if to say,
Talk to them
. The girl’s ears, flicking restlessly on top of her head, finally lay flat. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll talk.”

Was that resignation in her voice or resolve? She clenched her fists, and her lips formed a single straight line. She thought silently for several moments, then began with no preamble: “……The princess set
off from our
ulus
, our tribe, saying she was going to be an adventurer, and now we don’t know where she is.”

“Hmph. Hardly an uncommon story.”

The sniff came from Female Knight, who still had Heavy Warrior cornered. For that matter, she still had him lifted up by the collar, and there was a striking quality of emotion in her voice. Only Priestess seemed to understand why, but she just smiled.

“Perhaps for you, but it’s quite rare for us,” the centaur girl said with a firm shake of her head that made her long ears and braided mane quiver and the sword and bow across her back tremble audibly. “What’s more, the princess wasn’t alone. She was tempted away by an adventurer.”

“
This
adventurer?” Female Knight asked, lifting Heavy Warrior up even farther and eliciting a sound like a squished frog from him.

The girl studied him closely, then announced with absolute conviction: “The adventurer
was
carrying a greatsword.”

“Well, there it is!” Female Knight said.

“There
what
is?” Heavy Warrior snapped. Then he added, “Let me go already!” He took her arm and twisted gently, and simple principles of body weight caused her grip to come open.

“Hrm,” she growled, but Heavy Warrior was busy rubbing his neck.

“There must be a zillion adventurers who dress like me,” he said, puffing out his cheeks at the idea that he might be the victim of a false accusation. “Lots of people carry broadswords—even if most of them are just hunks of metal.”

“They’re only imitating the saga—that black-clad swordsman’s been a legend for a long time,” Dwarf Shaman said easily, chuckling at the unusual sight of the despondent Silver.

Admittedly, the “black-clad swordsman” who had been so popular was supposed to have been an attractive man who wielded
two
blades, but times change. Nonetheless, it was still true that Heavy Warrior was among those who had attempted to follow in the swordsman’s footsteps. How many adventurers, inspired by the way the legend made their pulses pound, had tried to trace its path, discover how it might end?

Now no one could know. Heavy Warrior had to realize that he would never reach that place, yet he still kept facing silently forward. He was an adventurer, and no matter how pathetic he might seem, how inexperienced, that was the only thing he could do.

“You just need to wear a helmet, like Orcbolg,” High Elf Archer said, breaking the tension (purposely or not).

The centaur girl’s palpable grief weighed on the room, and the elf’s irrepressible cheerfulness was like a refreshing breeze blowing through. Hard to tell if she was acting on her comportment as a noble or whether it was something instinctive to high elves, but whatever the case, she drew a circle in the air with her pointer finger, the gesture immensely refined. “Then people wouldn’t mistake you for anyone else.”

“I was also told to always remember my helmet,” Goblin Slayer muttered (a very earnest remark).

“Yeah?” Heavy Warrior replied.

There was wisdom, sometimes, in what the man in the grimy armor said, but at the moment, he didn’t seem likely to be very helpful. In fact, Heavy Warrior suspected the rather troubled-looking cleric girl was his best bet. A couple or three years ago, she would probably have been standing there in a panic, but now she looked downright capable.

I guess the person herself is always the last to realize
, Heavy Warrior reflected.

He thought of the kids in his own party and wondered if maybe he could stand to be a little tougher on them.

In any case, he shot Priestess a pointed look to keep things moving.

“Right,” she said and nodded. “If that’s all, then I’m not sure there’s…anything we can do.”

If the centaur girl wanted them to bring the princess back, that might be one thing. But if Priestess had been in a position to put people to work, she wouldn’t have left things to this girl alone.

“Are you going to hire adventurers?”

When she remembered the hubbub surrounding the king’s younger sister, Priestess quailed at the thought of having everything entrusted to her. She was not so simplistic, however, as to let those feelings show here and now. Instead, she maintained a serious demeanor and, in
an attempt to get the centaur girl to keep talking, had spoken gravely to her.

“We haven’t heard anything from her since then,” the centaur girl said.

“It’s possible…”
Possible she failed.
Not that Priestess would dare to say it aloud.

Adventurers took on dangerous quests—that was what made them adventurers. There was no quest that carried no danger of death. If you could just make money in complete safety doing this work, then who would hire adventurers for anything? No, be it slaying a dragon, mucking out the sewers, or hunting down goblins, danger was always at hand. It was sometimes greater and sometimes less—but even goblins, which were supposed to be the least threatening creatures in the world…

“Our princess was an accomplished fighter in her own right. Do you dare suggest that she would let herself be overcome like that?!” the centaur yelled reflexively, seeming to intuit what Priestess was thinking. “She never reached the point of going on an adventure! She was supposed to send word when she got to town, and she didn’t even do that!”

“…I admit, that is a little strange,” Priestess said.

The Four-Cornered World was full of adventure and danger, Fate and Chance—in the open field as much as anywhere. Okay, so maybe not everyone was going to bump into a dragon right on the road, but you could certainly have an unlucky encounter with a monster.

Still, this was a young woman who had gone to town in the company of a real adventurer, with hopes of becoming an adventurer herself. Would someone like that disappear without a trace, without asking anyone anywhere for help?

I think this could turn out to be quite the adventure
, Priestess thought. Something far beyond a goblin hunt, whether it was the doing of monsters or people. She couldn’t help hoping, though, that it might turn out to be nothing more than a simple case of a young woman running away from home. And that led to the hope that if that were so, the young woman might be reconciled to her family. Families weren’t always lucky enough to get along well all the time, but there were better ways to take one’s leave.

“Don’t centaurs worry when the eldest daughter leaves the household?” Dwarf Shaman piped up, more or less ignoring Heavy Warrior, who was still being cornered by Female Knight, who was still convinced that he had somehow lured the girl into it. “I mean you and your princess both.”

“Why should we worry? It’s the youngest who inherits,” Centaur Waitress said, as if it should have been obvious.

“A younger sister was born to the princess, so she was able to leave with no concern and no regrets,” the waitress’s sister added, equally blunt.

“Hoh,” intoned Dwarf Shaman, impressed.

“Children are born stronger after bloodlines have already been joined,” Centaur Waitress went on. “It doesn’t settle everything, but that’s how our
urus
thinks, at least.”

“There are indeed many and varied customs,” Lizard Priest said jovially.

“You’re one to talk,” High Elf Archer said with a bit of a smile. “Don’t you kidnap your brides or something? I’ve got questions.”

“What a thing to say.” Lizard Priest’s eyes rolled merrily in his head. He bared his fangs. “I have heard centaurs are the same way.”

“Really?”

“Mm!” the centaur girl said with confidence, puffing out her toned chest proudly. “Obtaining an excellent spouse and making the bloodline ever stronger helps the tribe to glory and victory.”

“The point is, this girl’s the youngest, so she’ll inherit our household,” Centaur Waitress said. She poked her little sister in the forehead and teased, “What are you doing, dummy?”

“But, my honored sister!” the girl exclaimed, holding a hand to her brow. “I’m already an accomplished
baturu
! A warrior!”

She could protest that she was a centaur warrior-noble all she wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that she was the youngest child.

“Dummy,” her sister repeated and poked her again, this time eliciting an “ow!” from the accomplished warrior.

Female Knight and Heavy Warrior were jabbering away, as were Lizard Priest and High Elf Archer—and Dwarf Shaman, naturally, wasn’t about to stop them. The somber atmosphere of moments ago was swept away, replaced by lively chatter and noise.

Goblin Slayer, who had been silent until then, watched the room for a moment and then said, “This is most familiar.”

“Yep,” said Priestess, who was watching everyone with something like pride. “All these youngsters who end up with us are like that—just nervous. Besides…,” she added, “she’s no scarier than a Viking.” Priestess was making a joke, sort of—it was the truth, but not all of it.

Probably.

The centaur princess had gone missing, and this girl had come after her but had no one to turn to. Those were feelings Priestess could sympathize with. It was like being in a temple where you didn’t know anyone, where you were forced to confront the fact that you were all alone in the Four-Cornered World. It was like supporting a wounded companion, leaving another of your friends screaming behind you as you crawled away through a dark cave.

Priestess knew in her skin the anxiety of such moments, the creeping terror.

“I see” was all Goblin Slayer said. He was silent for another moment, watching his friends and colleagues chatter boisterously. Priestess, sitting beside him, knew what he was thinking at such moments. Even if she couldn’t see what was behind the visor of that grimy metal helmet. After a beat, he raised his head and said gravely, “…Do you think goblins are involved?”

Every gaze in the room shifted to him.

Goblin Slayer’s helmet turned to take in Heavy Warrior, whom Female Knight had once again in her grasp. “I owe you a favor.”

“I’m gonna owe
you
a favor by the time this is over.” Heavy Warrior forced Female Knight’s arms away again and resumed rubbing his neck, his lips turning up in a smile. “I’ll pay you back sometime.”

“Very well.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “You’ll have to treat me to a drink or the like. I believe that’s the going rate.” He thought for a moment; then his helmet tilted in curiosity. “But why me?”

“No other good scouts around.”

“…” Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment, then said, “…I think of myself as a warrior.”

High Elf Archer let out the sigh she’d been holding in, attracting a blank look from Baturu.

§

“My goodness, that sounds terrible!” Guild Girl exclaimed, and she wasn’t being fatuous—this really was a serious matter.

An adventurer committing a kidnapping?

That was a problem. A big problem. A problem of blame. Who knew how far the ripples might reach?

The whole purpose of the Adventurers Guild was to certify that adventurers, so often regarded as riffraff and scoundrels, were nothing of the sort. That was the reason the country had gone out of its way to establish the Guild system. If people found out that the Guild had given its approval to someone who turned out to be a kidnapper, that would be a major issue. If it turned out to be someone from far away, who didn’t know how things were done around here, they might be able to smooth things over, at least…

No, no!

Someone really was missing, so the very best they could hope for was that she would return unharmed.

“Anyway, all I can tell you is that there haven’t been any centaurs who have registered as new adventurers recently.” Guild Girl flipped through some records as she spoke.

“I see.”

Centaurs stood out in a crowd. If one had been at the Guild, that alone would have been enough to get people talking.

Goblin Slayer nodded. “I should take that to mean that she isn’t around here, then?”

“She didn’t register as an adventurer here, at least.”

But then, this town wasn’t that big. If a centaur princess with a distinctive lock of silver hair on her forehead (so the centaur girl described her) was to show up here, somebody would have noticed. Which implied…

“I can’t imagine she made it all the way to the capital,” Guild Girl said. “But that still leaves—”

“The water town.”

“Yes, exactly.” Guild Girl nodded.

There were, of course, plenty of small villages and pioneer
settlements dotting the frontier where adventurers would be needed. But if a young centaur woman, taken with the idea of becoming an adventurer, had come here, there were likely only so many places she might have gone.

Maybe I’m stereotyping, but…
, Guild Girl thought. It seemed to her that a centaur, whose people lived on the open plain, wouldn’t be particularly impressed by life among frontier pioneers.

“I’d have to double-check to be completely certain, though. Let me have another look at the Adventurer Sheets,” she said. She stood up and, after a moment’s thought, added, “I’ll also check for this adventurer who was supposedly wielding a broadsword.”

“Yes, please,” Goblin Slayer said.

“Of course.” She smiled at him and then jogged back behind the curtain without ever looking anything less than refined and elegant.

Her colleague glanced up. Her face was stuffed full of sweets; whether she was on break or if this was a bit of slacking off was hard to tell. “What’s up? Trouble?” she asked.

“They say an adventurer has vanished along with the person who came to town with him,” Guild Girl replied.

“Blargh!” her colleague exclaimed, a sound not very fitting for either a disciple of the Supreme God or an employee of the Adventurers Guild. Admittedly, Guild Girl would have made the same sound if her position had permitted it. But it didn’t.

Inspector stuffed the last of the treats in her mouth and washed them down with some dark tea, then said, “If our
more experienced
colleague found out about this, there’d be hell to pay.” She didn’t even try to hide her annoyance.

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“You’ve got that right.” Naïveté.

Sometimes joking was the only way to cope.

In any case, Guild Girl was grateful to her friend, who immediately swept away the detritus of her snack and stood up. She pulled out the Adventurer Sheets of adventurers who had been active recently, and the two of them started flipping through the pages. A centaur adventurer and someone carrying a huge sword would both have stood out.

Goodness…

She discovered there was no shortage of adventurers who wanted to swing around a broadsword. Reasons varied: It was cool, or glorious, or it made them look strong, and so on. The fact that it wasn’t just men but some women, too, maybe went to show the great glory of the Supreme God. Maybe.

Guild Girl thought she recalled songs about one of the six members of the All Stars being a warrior, a red-haired foreign mercenary who carried a massive blade.

I’m pretty sure she was a black-haired woman, wasn’t she?

As Guild Girl scanned the pages, her eyes and hand and brain working, her mind cast away all extraneous thought.

“Mm, nothing here,” Inspector said.

Guild Girl looked up when her colleague spoke, then added, “Looks like it.” She nodded, closing a notebook. “Maybe she really did go to some other town.”

“Yeah, probably.” Inspector nodded as well, then stretched and put the papers back on the shelf. “I guess this is one of those things we’d better report to the Guild President, huh?”

“Could you handle that for me?” Guild Girl asked. A cleric of the Supreme God would be in a better position in a discussion like that.

“I don’t mind—but I’d sure like to try using Sense Lie on this centaur girl.” Inspector wiped some sweat from her brow as she finally finished reshelving all the papers. She looked very serious. “It’s not that I think she’s lying necessarily, but I need to be able to say I made sure.”

“I understand that.” Guild Girl smiled and giggled, brushing aside her braid, which had settled on her shoulder. She knew very well that her colleague wasn’t drunk on power, wielding her authority in suspicion of everyone and everything. If she was that sort of person, Guild Girl doubted she would ever have received a miracle from the Supreme God. “I’ll check with Goblin Slayer, but I think that should be all right.”

Guild Girl reemerged at a quick jog, looking as energetic as a puppy; when she had explained the request to Goblin Slayer, he said, “I see,” and nodded. “I don’t believe she would listen if I asked her, but if the request came from our cleric, I doubt there would be a problem.”

“Thank you so much. Given what’s going on, I’ll set things up so that this is a proper quest from the Guild.” Part of it was that even Silver-ranked adventurers didn’t work for free—but above all, it was because this incident affected the Guild’s credibility. They would at least have to issue a survey quest. “I’ll prepare a letter of introduction to the water town for you; you can show it to them when you arrive.”

“Yes, please,” Goblin Slayer replied.

Still…

Even as she industriously filled out paperwork and chatted with Goblin Slayer, Guild Girl couldn’t suppress a smile. She knew it must seem out of place. She absolutely knew that this wasn’t the time. Still. Yes, even so, and yet, it made her so happy.

“I think you’ve changed, Goblin Slayer,” she said.

“How is that?” he asked.

“I mean…” Guild Girl held some paperwork in front of her to hide her smile; she looked as pleased as if she was speaking of herself. “You sound interested in an adventure involving something other than goblins.”

“…”

You’ve become an outstanding adventurer.
That was essentially what she’d said to him, but he only sank into a brief, almost sullen silence. Finally, he grunted and said, “…I don’t see it.”

§

“There’s no need—
I
don’t have to engage in such antics to know what I’m saying is the truth. If I know, that’s enough.”

“But don’t you think if lots of people knew you were telling the truth, it would help you find your princess?”

“Hrm…”

“I know you can do it on your own—so just think of how much faster it’ll go if everyone helps out!”

“Hrrrm…” Baturu’s ears lay back on her head, and she nodded sweetly. If Priestess said so, then all right. Evidently the cleric had indeed been able to talk her around.

Such was the scene Goblin Slayer found upon returning to the
waiting area. He was sincerely pleased to find it had been the right choice to let Priestess handle the young woman.