Goblin Slayer, Vol. 15

You know, I wonder…

Were centaur women the same
down there
as human women? Priestess blushed at her own crude thought.

“Hnnngh… I’ve never been so embarrassed…,” Baturu said, her hooves clopping on the marble.

High Elf Archer grinned like a cat. “Just think of it as cultural exchange!” She was very much fond of bathing these days, and she quickly stretched out her legs and relaxed. It was a gesture unbecoming a princess of the elves, yet strangely, it was still beautiful, so lovely it could have been a painting.

Priestess kept stealing glances at High Elf Archer out of the corner of her eye as she placed a cloth (not the one for her mail) on the floor. “Would this work?” she asked.

“Yeah… Sorry.”

“Not at all,” Priestess said.

Baturu slowly bent down and laid on the cloth. Priestess lowered her little butt down next to the centaur, and all three of them let out contented sighs.

They might quibble and quarrel, but the warm air relaxed them from the cores of their bodies, releasing the tension in their muscles. It was tiring, rattling along in a wagon for so long. The sweat that rolled off their bodies, flushed from the steam, seemed to take the day’s fatigue with it. As they relaxed into it, it made their hearts lighter. The heart and the body are inseparable, after all, so it’s hard to affect one without affecting the other.

Hence why Baturu’s voice was languorous as she asked, “But why a bath, though…?”

“It’s important to rest your body after a long trip,” Priestess said, sounding equally relaxed, and she added, “Besides, you always get to be better friends by sharing a tub.” That was just something she’d
discovered through experience—that the easiest times to talk were just before you fell asleep or in the bath—in any case, when everything and everyone was jumbled together, that was the perfect time.

“What do you think?” High Elf Archer asked, her eyes half-closed. “Starting to trust us now?”

“Truth be told, not quite,” Baturu said.

Which is another way of saying she trusts us enough to tell us she doesn’t trust us!
Priestess thought, and it brought a smile to her face, even though Baturu still looked put out.

The centaur stared at Priestess dubiously and continued. “Aren’t adventurers just uncouth ruffians anyway?”

“Uncouth ruffians with the state’s seal of approval,” High Elf Archer quipped.

“But
we
are not subjects of your king,” Baturu said, her tone still sharp.

The high elf—also not a subject of the king—smiled and shrugged; Priestess, for her part, let the comment roll right off her back. Understanding each other didn’t mean always saying,
Oh yes! You’re absolutely right!
If it did, how could a lizardman, a dwarf, an elf, and some humans all go hunting goblins together?

“I guess you must not have liked the idea of your princess becoming an adventurer,” Priestess suggested.

“It…it was her own honorable decision. It’s not mine to comment on,” Baturu said—which basically meant
no
. The centaur pressed a washcloth to her face, pretending to wipe away some sweat from her glowing cheeks, and rubbed vigorously. “The only reason I came along with you was to make sure you actually did the job—and didn’t just say you were
still looking
while you wasted my time and my money.” She stared at them, her expression hard, tense. “I can imagine some cunning operator trying to pull just such a scheme.”

“Eh, lots of humans can’t tell the difference between clever and sneaky,” High Elf Archer said.

Priestess felt a little bit attacked. But how could a centaur or a high elf be expected to follow the human laws of a human kingdom set by a human king? It was hard enough even for other humans.

Read the whole history of the Four-Cornered World and you would
never find an ideal place with no problems. Thus, that wasn’t an issue Priestess could address. Instead, she looked up at the statue of the hermaphroditic Deity of the Basin and that of the Supreme God above it. This wasn’t quite a matter of Law or Order, but…it shared the same roots. There was no simple answer—which was precisely why the gods had entrusted it to Pray-ers.

“But it might be true—that we never find her,” High Elf Archer said, drawing Priestess back into the present moment. She made an idle circle in the air with her finger until her digit came to rest by her cheek; her face was tinged with some frustration. “Human money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”

“Doesn’t that go without saying?” Baturu mumbled, bringing an unexpected smile to Priestess’s face. The cleric tried to apologize to her friend, who was giving her an
oh what
look, but she couldn’t stop giggling.

“But even so,” Priestess said proudly, even though it was all she could do to wipe the tears from her eyes, “we won’t stop looking until we find her. That’s what adventurers do.”

“Yeah!” High Elf Archer said, puffing out her modest chest. “That’s right!”

“Eep!” Priestess exclaimed when she found herself suddenly confronted with the magically delicate body, and the two of them soon fell to jabbering. Only Baturu remained resolutely, sullenly silent.

§

“My goodness… To think you would show up so suddenly. I would have liked to make some preparations.”

“I see.”

Goblin Slayer had been shown into one of the innermost chambers of the Temple of Law. The last golden rays of the day’s sunlight poured down amid the chalk pillars, carving bright streaks in the purple tendrils of night. In the garden, a white sacred beast lay in repose, a bird perched on its scales. You could listen closely, but all you would hear would be the trembling of the grass and flowers in the wind and the burbling of water.

It was a calm, quiet environment where serenity reigned.

The woman who was the master of this place, her body covered in soft flesh, bent over, forming alluring curves. A pale thigh peeked out from under her thin vestments, looking as delicate and beautiful as glass. She proved that there were women in this world so beautiful, they could capture a person’s heart just sitting there. A succubus looking for a form in which to incarnate herself could find no better example.

Not that many succubi would wish to imitate this woman if they knew the deeds she had done.

Sword Maiden furrowed her brow and pursed her lips at the man standing before her as if she was the most innocent of girls. “It puts me in quite a pickle.”

“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded brusquely, then accepted her invitation to sit down across from her. He knew this was a personal space belonging to Sword Maiden, the archbishop who shouldered the burden of Order in this area; he had been here before. It had always been a purified place, but today that fact was underlined by its tidiness.

The cleric withdrew to the entryway of the room with a bow; Sword Maiden acknowledged her with a nod. Then she put her hand to her ample bosom as if to still the pounding of her heart. “Might I ask what brings you here today?”

“Several things,” Goblin Slayer answered, still businesslike. “But first, goblins.”

“Goodness…” Sword Maiden sounded like a young woman hearing some horrible tale. She put a hand to her rosy cheeks, and maybe her eyes under her bandage had gone wide with fear.

Goblin Slayer knew the reaction was heartfelt. Thus he chose his words carefully—but he made no attempt to hide anything. “On our way here, we were attacked by goblins. They had…wargs, or whatever they’re called. Mounted troops.”

“A wandering tribe, do you suppose?”

“I can’t be certain.” There had been no time to investigate—or rather, he had prioritized getting here (he dutifully corrected his own understanding of his actions). Then he asked, just to be sure: “Have goblins been appearing around here again?”

“Not at all!” Sword Maiden exclaimed, her voice going up a register. The only ones who had heard her sound like that were the cleric who attended upon her personally, the other four members of Goblin Slayer’s party—and Goblin Slayer himself.

Sword Maiden looked at the ground as if embarrassed to have let herself be heard that way. A ripple passed through her golden hair as she shook her head. “No… There’s been nothing of the sort,” she said much more quietly, and then she looked up as if to gauge his reaction. She seemed to be peering through the visor of his metal helmet, looking beseechingly at him. To her eyes, neither the night darkness nor the shadows made a whit of difference. “There’s been no sign of goblins in this city since you got rid of them for us.”

“Hrm…”

“There have been evil elements, of course. But with that much, we can…”

…make do.

It was not a statement of pride—with her position and her power, it was simple fact.

The forces of Chaos would be rampant in any city as large as the water town. Agents of dark cults hid in dark places, demons corrupted people’s hearts, and unsavory nobles worked their own sort of mischief.

Vice was everywhere, be it in the lawless wilderness or the civilized settlement; it simply took a different form in each. How could one both praise the bravery of those who fought against these forces and simultaneously deride them as incompetent?

Goblin Slayer was aware that he knew nothing. It must be so difficult simply to stand alone, believing in the gods, forcing down one’s fear of goblins. The woman before him had accomplished things he could not dream of doing.

“Whatever the case,” he said, “if it’s not goblins, then it is beyond me.”

“Yes,” Sword Maiden replied, grasping the sword and scales. “Thankfully…and most unfortunately.” Then a mournful whisper escaped her lips. “You will not have to trouble yourself.”

“I don’t know if it’s related to the matter I’m pursuing, but it is a fact that goblins appeared,” he told her.

“I’ll take extra caution. If they’re in some vanguard of Chaos, they might be a sign of a shadow about to fall on the town.”

One thing above all others: Goblins ought to be destroyed. On that point, this man and woman agreed absolutely. They nodded at each other. Although only Sword Maiden flinched at the way her cleric-attendant privately sighed to herself.

“Well,” Sword Maiden began reluctantly, afraid to voice such an untoward question, “if you’re going to be here for very long, you must need a place to stay…” She then mumbled, “If it’s no trouble…” Her pale fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress. The same hem goblins had torn at. It was still beautiful, like her eyes. “…Perhaps, if you’ve no objection, you would like to stay at this temple.”

“That would be a help,” Goblin Slayer said, nodding earnestly under his helmet. He was truly fortunate to receive the help of others. “I know it’s quite an imposition, but if we could turn to you for this, I would be grateful.”

“Goodness…!” This time, she sounded like a young noblewoman receiving a poem from a man she adored. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to tell me.” She dipped her head, blushing so furiously that she was embarrassed to even take a step forward.

“I am looking for someone. I’m on”—here he paused and hesitated for a long moment—“an adventure.”

“You’re looking for someone?” Sword Maiden murmured, the words dropping into the twilight space between them. The cleric moved soundlessly, lighting a candle in a candleholder. The flickering flame mingled with the last wisps of the sinking sun and set the shadows dancing.

Was this what they called an air of mystery? To Goblin Slayer’s rustic sensibilities, it seemed so—not that he really knew what an “air of mystery” was supposed to constitute.

“We went on many adventures but rarely a search… Er, never mind.” Sword Maiden giggled as if recalling some game she’d played as a child. “I suppose we did. Down in the Dungeon.”

“Unfortunately, I suspect this will take place in town. If the object of our search is still here.”