Goblin Slayer, Vol. 15

She found herself rising off the soft rush mat under her behind more often than she sat on it—and they said the Circus Maximus in the royal capital was even grander than this! She could hardly imagine what would happen if a girl raised in the countryside like her was to go there.

“Unless I’m very much mistaken, those races started with war chariots—and I think the greeting was given in the middle of the race!” Dwarf Shaman said.

“The centaur races have been rather popular lately,” said a grinning young woman—the one who had invited the party here. She looked pleased to be there with them, and indeed, she had once been a member of their group. Now she was a prosperous businessperson—it was Female Merchant. They hadn’t seen her since their adventure in the desert.

She had been quick to accept Sword Maiden’s request—how could she object to taking these dear friends of hers to see all the excitement at the coliseum?

“Both the Quadriga and the Biga,” Female Merchant told the group. “The salutation is the most recent form of a tradition that’s changed over time, once including songs and dances.”

“You humans get so attached to your traditions—but then you change them at the drop of a hat. I don’t understand it,” High Elf Archer said, although she was happily clutching a handful of gambling tickets. The fact that she didn’t throw them away suggested that either she had successfully picked a winner or she didn’t grasp what they were for.

Then again, maybe it was the trendy (in the water town) clothing she and Female Merchant had plotted to wear (giggling all the while). To Priestess, the outfits seemed to show an embarrassing amount of skin.

I can’t quite bring myself to look at them
, she thought, rather in spite of herself—though at the same time, the outfits looked like they would be nice and cool in this hot weather. If nothing else, it certainly showed off the high elf’s healthy body to best effect—which is to say, it looked very good on her.
Maybe I should’ve asked for one, too
, Priestess
thought—just for a second—but she quickly reproved herself, reminding herself that it wasn’t good to waste money.

High Elf Archer, for her part, seemed to be having too good of a time to worry about her clothes—maybe she was caught up in the excitement of the crowd.

“That outfit is quite becoming on you,” Lizard Priest commented, nodding his long head somberly, then taking a bite of the cat meat in his hand.

“Oh, thanks,” High Elf Archer said, waving at him with a feline grin.

Lizard Priest swallowed—he seemed to find the food quite tasty. “I’m most intrigued by the idea of a contest between battle chariots,” he said, then mumbled, “And how much better it would be if there was cheese!” which brought a giggle from his high elf companion.

“I’m always surprised to remember that you do like to take the reins, don’t you?” she said.

“Yes, I’m inspired by one particular saga that tells the story of a man who fights false charges of being an assassin by means of a chariot race against his mortal enemy.”

“That’s not even the main
point
of that saga,” High Elf Archer added with a wry smile. “Besides, that’s a really long one!”

“Never heard of an elf complainin’ about anything being too long before!” Dwarf Shaman remarked.

“Anyway, I’m glad we saw this. They’re really fast, those centaurs.” High Elf Archer was in too good a mood to be bothered by the dwarf’s quip. She could be heard to say “I’ll treat you later” to Lizard Priest, so maybe she really had won her bet.

“Sweet nectar!” Lizard Priest exclaimed, slapping his tail against the grandstand, drawing surprised looks from the other spectators.

“…”

Priestess glanced at Baturu, who wasn’t saying anything. Her still-young face was painted with displeasure. She’d remained sullen and silent ever since they had set out for the arena. Priestess was trying to decide whether to say something to her, but before she could come to a conclusion, Goblin Slayer said, “So what does this have to do with the so-called Silver Blaze?” His voice was cold, almost mechanical.

He must have found the competition interesting, for he had watched it without a word.

Right.
Female Merchant nodded politely, then glanced around them.

“It’s fine,” Goblin Slayer said. “With this much chatter, it would be all the harder for anyone to hear what we were saying.”

“Very well… You said this centaur you’re looking for is a beautiful woman with a silver star streaking across her bangs.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Goblin Slayer replied, nodding. Priestess noticed him glance at Baturu from under his helmet. The centaur girl’s ears twitched, but of course she didn’t say anything.

“Silver Blaze is one of the competitors here, someone with exactly the features you describe.”

“Hoh.”

“A young up-and-comer with fantastic legs. Everyone was excited to find out what kind of competitor she would be…,” Female Merchant said before whispering grimly, “but then she disappeared to who knows where.”

Some claimed—this was just a claim—that it had been the night of the storm some days ago. They said a suspicious man had come to the dormitory where the centaurs were who hadn’t participated in the race, looking insistently for “quality.” The lanistas, seeing that the man looked like a no-good gambler, set the dogs on him and drove him away.

But when everyone woke up the next morning…

“…They realized Silver Blaze wasn’t in the dorm. Her personal lanista was missing, too.”

“Surely they could simply have searched for them? Would they not have found them quickly?”

“They did conduct a search, but…they failed to locate her, unfortunately.”

The other lanistas had immediately started looking for Silver Blaze in a furor. She was far and away the most beautiful of the centaurs—very distinctive. They should have found her easily.

“But all they found was the corpse of her trainer, lying on the edge of town, his skull split open.”

Now, that sounds like the start of an adventure
, Priestess thought, and she wasn’t really wrong.

Goblin Slayer grunted softly, and the other members of the party exchanged thoughtful looks.

“Okay,” said High Elf Archer, blinking. “So is that gambler the culprit or something?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know,” Female Merchant replied. Her words were direct, but her expression was one of ambivalence and concern. She cast glances right and left. “The gambler was apprehended promptly, but he swore up and down he didn’t do it…”

“Feh! So does every two-bit lowlife!” Dwarf Shaman said, taking a gulp of his wine. In the arena, they were already preparing for the next competition; the sand had been cleaned up and the dirt packed back down. “But you’ve got your Lady Archbishop round here, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s not as if she’s personally involved in every investigation.”

Which was not to say specifically that she wasn’t involved in this one. This was the water town, after all, on the very knees of the Temple of Law that shouldered the responsibility for Order on the frontier. With Sword Maiden standing before them—she of the All Stars, the six heroes so beloved of the Supreme God—there was no one who would be able to pull off a lie.

“We asked a cleric of the Supreme God to invoke the Sense Lie miracle,” Female Merchant said.

“And…?” How had it turned out? Priestess was eager to know.

“It was no good. I don’t mean the miracle; I’m sure that was quite valid. The man insisted he knew nothing of the incident and had nothing to do with it, and that seems to be the truth.”

“So you still don’t have any idea who did it…?”

“No, and there were few footprints, which has meant plenty of rumors going around.”

Maybe it was the doing of the birdfolk! No, a demon appeared and took her away! Or maybe some other agent of evil? Maybe it was some kind of snatcher, a doppelgänger or a snark. The story had long been told of the hunter who, in one night, killed six monsters who had disguised themselves as people in order to infiltrate human society. There were some things in this Four-Cornered World that simply brooked no credence.

“Does anyone really think it’s the doing of the diamond knight?” Female Merchant asked, scowling. “People believe the stupidest things.”

“Perhaps a dragon has taken her away to his cave,” Lizard Priest quipped, earning him a “come on!” and a jab of the elbow from High Elf Archer (a jab he hardly noticed). In any case, it was true that there were many sources and forces of Chaos slithering around the Four-Cornered World, fishy and suspicious actors beyond number.

“There was even talk of bringing in a consulting detective from the capital,” Female Merchant said.

“Consulting detective…” It was either High Elf Archer or Priestess who mumbled the words, finding them unfamiliar.

Female Merchant giggled and smiled. “There’s been one soliciting work recently.”

Oh…

Female Merchant was able to smile despite the painful brand still present on the nape of her neck, which she sometimes reached up through her hair to scratch. To see her show such pleasure, like any other girl her age, brought almost a sense of salvation to Priestess.

She realized how precious it all was.

It was this realization that prevented her from leaving Baturu to her own devices. “My princess would never do something so degrading,” the centaur grumbled. No doubt she was looking up now, glaring, unable to take any more. She was staring straight at the centaurs who had entered the arena moments before. They were waving to the cheering crowd, strutting around, prideful and beautiful. Or at least, so they looked to Priestess…

“Those girls are being put on display! Have they no shame?” Baturu demanded.

“I don’t think they’re doing anything dishonorable,” Priestess ventured, but Baturu appeared to disagree. No matter how they tried to see eye to eye, humans and centaurs were just different, and sometimes different things simply didn’t match up. They could walk side by side, but they would never be quite in step.

“I’ve heard the Valkyrie herself was once a sword fighter,” Priestess offered.

“I neither know nor care about your human gods,” Baturu snapped, and there wasn’t much Priestess could say to that. Instead, the centaur continued: “I have no idea who this Silver Blaze actually is, but my princess would never stoop so low as to—”

“If you’re so sure about that, would you like to meet one of them?”

It was Priestess’s friend Female Merchant who threw this lifeline. She looked Baturu in the eyes, just as Priestess had—indeed, Female Merchant had learned by watching her friend. Even with her large, equine body, when she was seated, the centaur warrior was not so much taller than a delicate human female (Baturu herself seemed a bit on the small side among centaurs).

Female Merchant saw confusion mingled with anger in Baturu’s eyes. She offered a small smile. “I don’t mean Silver Blaze, of course. But one of our aurigae was close to her.”

“If nothing else, we must confirm whether this Silver Blaze was the centaur princess,” Goblin Slayer said—businesslike, and no more, as ever. At the same time, however, he seemed to be saying that a shouting match here would solve nothing.

Baturu cast a barbed glare in the direction of the metal helmet. Priestess, as well as the other party members, knew quite well that Goblin Slayer meant only and exactly what he said. They looked at each other and grinned. They could try to explain, but it seemed likely to just antagonize Baturu more. Better to keep things moving along. That was one excellent reason to leave this matter to the party leader…

Except he doesn’t actually realize, does he?

He was truly hopeless. He preached the importance of swift decision-making but didn’t believe that he did it himself.

Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment, seemingly considering the way his companions were looking at him. When he spoke, though, it was in the same unflappable tone, with the same decisiveness: “Show us there, if you would.”

§

The maidens who gathered in the garden of the Valkyrie and the Trade God, the gods of the true path, rushed along the racecourse,
illuminating the garden with their smiles. They wore dark-colored training uniforms, their hearts as pure and true as their bodies. They ran, beautifully, the hair of their tails never disheveled, their pointed ears never laid back. What could be more natural?

Needless to say, none of these young ladies was so uncouth as to let her horseshoes clatter as she ran.

The competitors’
ludus
—their training grounds—was located within the precincts of the water town, not far from the arena.

Priestess breathed a sigh of relief as she extricated herself from the still-buzzing crowd of spectators. Gondolas plied the river as they walked alongside it, and she was surprised to discover that this alone was enough to calm her down.

The place Female Merchant brought them was indeed appropriate to be called a
ludus
, which also meant school. A red-roofed building was surrounded on four sides by what looked like the walls of a fortification, surrounding an inner courtyard. Training tools of all kinds waited within, and there was even a practice racecourse.

“All right, listen up! You have to create an hourglass within yourself!
You
have to understand your own pace, how fast you’re going!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Why’re you trying to get out in front? Hang back and conserve your energy! Everyone fall in; we’re going to keep practicing our side-by-side running!”

“Yes, sir!”

“All right, first, take a break,” said another voice. “Make sure you get plenty of water. Anyone feeling ill?”

“I’m all right!” one person responded.

“I think one of my horseshoes is coming off…”

“Make sure you get it secured posthaste. That goes for all of you—if you want to win, take the best possible care of your legs!”

“Hey, your tail is looking a little scruffy.”

“Oh! I’m s-sorry…”

“Listen, even the gods are watching us. We’ve got to be presentable.”

The lanistas, who were distinguished by the wooden swords they carried, could be heard instructing the racers. The centaurs responded
with vigor, perspiration was shed, and everyone pushed and fought for anything that might make them even a fraction faster.

What most surprised Priestess was the presence of other centaurs, not just humans, among the lanistas. Although it made sense: Humans had only two legs; they wouldn’t know how to run with four like a centaur.

“Ah, the passion! Most admirable,” Lizard Priest said, smiling at the scene. “I am put in mind of the training barracks in my own village.”

He continued mumbling to himself (“Soldiers who would stand side by side must be from the same barracks or at least from a place of similar capacities”) as Female Merchant bowed shyly to him. “I appreciate your saying so. Things are finally going more or less according to plan…”

To have an accomplished warrior like this lizardman praise the establishment was more than an honor for a human. Who could blame Female Merchant if she allowed herself a little smile? Indeed, it was only natural.

“So,
’hem
,” Dwarf Shaman said, looking up at her, “this is your place, then?”

“I acquired it shortly after it began operating. An acquaintance sold it to me at a bargain price—they felt it was better than seeing the place go to waste.” Looking back on it now, she could see there might have been an element of friendly affection at work—but only looking back on it. For when a scarred young woman suddenly reappeared and went into business, the pushback was severe.

It often wasn’t enough simply to make a profit and earn back an investment. Female Merchant was coming to understand that much of the loathing for nobles’ games stemmed not from lofty ideals but from sheer lack of understanding. So it was that the same crowd who cheered and celebrated at the coliseum would kick the proverbial sand at the people involved as they walked away. She understood she mustn’t get too attached, become too obsessed, but still…

“I know but little about all this, but I’ve managed to come this far, thankfully,” she said.

Still, she felt she was justified in a measure of pride, that this couldn’t be called a mere diversion for her.

“Sure, it’s terrific. Lots of things never do go according to plan, after all!” Dwarf Shaman laughed, showing his teeth. Female Merchant still felt rather flattered.

Her touch of embarrassment was perfectly natural, but far be it from the sharp eyes of High Elf Archer to miss it. “What? What? Are you planning to make adventurers compete, too?”

“Ah, that might be a good idea,” Female Merchant said merrily. “That dungeoneering contest turned out to be such a success, after all…”

“Oh, please, don’t. Something you just show up and whip through is no adventure. She’d just be mass-producing Orcbolgs,” the elf quipped. This provoked a guffaw from Female Merchant (a polite, girlish guffaw).

The subject of the chuckling himself showed no sign of being either bothered or interested.

I’m not sure what to think…
Priestess found herself smiling, too, but also a little embarrassed; she shifted uncomfortably. Her anxiety about her own inexperience hadn’t disappeared yet, but she couldn’t help wondering if they saw her that way, too. Although she was very happy to see one of her dear friends succeed so well.

Without warning, Goblin Slayer spoke up. “Now,” he said, his tone diffident as ever. “About Silver Blaze.”

“Oh yes, of course,” said Female Merchant. “Pardon me.” She coughed, her cheeks reddening, and she glanced around the training area. Her eyes soon lit on one person in particular, and she called her name, a name of Lightning.

Yes, Lightning: It was the centaur who had appeared with the suddenness of a thunderclap at the end of the race earlier. She was lovely and distinguished, with black hair and her mane tied neatly behind her head in a single braid. Her figure was clearly visible as she approached; Priestess had had an inkling from the spectator seating, but now she was sure:

She’s…big.

The thought came unbidden to her mind as she looked at the centaur woman. As at the race, her outfit revealed a toned, trained body. She wore a look of determination, and with the red sash she was
wearing, she had the bearing of a prince. Still, the curves visible under her training outfit were unmistakably womanly; she had an allure much like Sword Maiden’s.

The centaur approached with a gentle clop of horseshoes, and Female Merchant engaged her in friendly conversation. “You’re running already? The race just finished.”

“I’m merely cooling down. I’m not pushing myself; don’t worry.”

“How are your legs?”

“Nothing to be concerned about.”

If Priestess felt a touch of surprise, it was because something seemed off about the centaur’s gait. Running at full speed must put a substantial burden on their legs.

When the racer noticed Priestess glancing at her limbs, she came over and took her hand easily, bringing it gently to her lips. “Might I ask what I can help you with, my young lady?”

“Eep!” Priestess squeaked when the dashing centaur greeted her as respectfully as if she were nobility.

I mean… Of course I’m surprised, right…?

“We want to know about Silver Blaze.” The voice was calmness itself, and it brought strenuous relief to Priestess as it spoke on her behalf. For the racer’s eyes had glittered like lightning, so irresistibly beautiful that Priestess had almost been sucked into them. She could have gazed at them for eternity, at risk of her life. Instead she was instantly smitten, and that alone seemed to be enough.

“Silver Blaze?” The golden eyes blinked. “Are you fans of hers? I daresay one could get jealous!” Her gaze took in the dwarf, the lizardman, the figure in the grimy armor—and then she stopped beside him. “So even a high elf is in the thrall of our Blaze? I’m sure if you saw
me
run, I might sway your affections…”

“We saw you,” High Elf Archer said, laughter chuckling in her throat. “And you were beautiful, truly.”

“You are too kind. If you wish, I could be moved to give a private demonstration run for you…”

Female Merchant mouthed,
All right, enough
, though she didn’t say anything. (
Some people
, she appeared to add,
have no constancy.
)

At that, the racer’s lightning eyes sparkled with mischief, and her
lips moved alluringly. “Oh, don’t get all upset. My worthy opponents won’t let me live it down if they get all the attention at the track.”

“I can’t believe this. And you’ve got a race to run!”

“Aw, going to kick me out for being insolent?”

“I can’t—can’t believe this…” Female Merchant had her head in her hands, while the racer laughed uproariously. It was almost hard to tell whether they were joking around or not. The racer looked free and easy, but it was clear there was more to her than that. No one who was simply frivolous could ever learn to run like she could.

Another voice spoke up: “There’s no way it was the princess…” It was Baturu, staring at the ground. She was murmuring, but the racer certainly heard her. “The princess would never wish to put herself on
display
on some other thing than grass…”

“Grass? You mean turf? Only the Circus in the capital has that—too much trouble to be forever replanting it and keeping it up around here.” The racer trotted over to Baturu’s side, kneeling slightly to look her in the face. “If you’re running on turf, you’re running in the capital. I’d love to try it myself someday… But perhaps you feel I shouldn’t?”

“…!”

Baturu gave a sharp intake of breath, her cheeks flushing with heightened emotion. Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes. She tossed her head up and exclaimed, “A-aren’t you ashamed?! To be…? To do…?”

“I have my modesty, of course. I grant I was more than a little nervous the first time I ran in front of an audience.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Ha-ha-ha.” All Baturu’s yelling seemed to roll right off her back. The eyes that crackled with lightning fixed the young girl in place. “I come from a long line of runners. Like my parents… Well, my mother was anonymous.” But her father, she said, was a famous racer who had won many prizes. Her eyes squinted in a smile; she sounded downright proud of it. “So I tell you, in all my races, I have never felt shame about the blood that flows in my veins. Never once.”

To that, not even Baturu had an answer. Instead, she opened her mouth, then closed it, and finally she bit her lip, looking at the ground. “But the princess…,” she said.

When the racer reached out to run a hand gently through her hair, Baturu didn’t push her away. Even as she patted Baturu’s head, the racer’s lightning eyes flickered in the direction of the other adventurers. “This princess—was it Silver Blaze?”

“We don’t know,” said Goblin Slayer. “That’s what we were hoping to find out.”

“Hmm… Perhaps you could describe her for me?”

“We only know what we’ve heard,” Priestess said, but she offered what she could on behalf of Baturu, who couldn’t look up, couldn’t even speak. No one in the party remarked on the droplets spilling from her eyes onto the ground in front of her. Neither, of course, did the centaur with the lightning eyes.

“That description—yes, it does sound like her,” the centaur said when she was told of the lock of silver hair that shot like a comet across the princess’s brow. “She was a lovely young lady. She ran so comfortably. And she was a princess? I suppose it would explain much…”

“How do you mean?” Priestess asked.

“She had…a nobility about her. The way she carried herself was impeccable. Does that make sense?”

“I see…” Priestess looked at High Elf Archer, then at Female Merchant, and she thought of King’s Sister, who wasn’t there at that moment. Compared with her, the way they held themselves was—well, it was completely different. “Yes. That makes perfect sense.”

“She say anything ’bout how she came to be in these parts?” Dwarf Shaman asked.

The lightning-eyed racer’s ears took on an uneasy cant. “Well, she was with a different
ludus
. And we’ve only met on the track a few times…” The centaur put a hand to her chin thoughtfully; she almost looked like an actor playing a part. Her other hand never stopped gently stroking Baturu’s head, though it was obvious she was thinking hard. “I must say, though, she never seemed to want to talk much about her past. We always spoke of racing.”

“But surely you must have heard something?” Female Merchant asked, touching the racer’s flank in a gesture of intimacy. “I know you always want to chat when you see a new girl. Even if you’re not serious about it.”

The answer didn’t come immediately. The shouting of the other centaurs rushing around the inner courtyard echoed this way and that, mingling with the voices of the lanistas. A particularly emphatic gust of wind stirred up the courtyard’s dust and stagnant air.

After a long moment, something seemed to shift in those lightning eyes. They closed slowly, and the centaur exhaled. “Just to be clear, what I’m about to say is no comment on her racing. I want you to understand that.”

“I’ve never seen Silver Blaze race,” Goblin Slayer said brusquely. “And what I haven’t seen, I cannot comment on.”

That seemed to satisfy the centaur. Something like a smile entered her eyes. “I was told she came from a coachman.”

“Coachman?”

“Someone who sells centaurs for a living. They lead their victims on with promises that they’ll take them somewhere fun and exciting.” And once the centaurs are convinced that they’re going to a joyous Pleasure Island, they’re sold as simple, stupid donkeys.

The price of ignorance for a naive youngster who just wants to get away from the herd and live in freedom is always great. Although any adventurer would understand that there are certain things you can’t obtain if you don’t take the risk.

“The selling of slaves as such isn’t illegal,” Female Merchant noted, adding quietly that some people at some
ludi
must buy them without knowing where they came from.

A person might find themselves enslaved for many reasons: They might be captured in war or fail to pay a debt, or it might be punishment for a crime. All one had to do was work industriously until one had bought one’s freedom—no particular problem with that. In every time and every place, however, there were those who would abuse the system.

“This is sounding more and more like an urban adventure,” High Elf Archer said with a “hmm,” although she added in a whisper that she wasn’t thrilled about that. She acted as if she was thinking about something profound and important, but the human world was always a complicated and confusing place to the high elves. She quickly abandoned any real attempt to deduce anything, instead smacking
her party leader gently on the back. “I think this is your department, Orcbolg. The whole thing beats the heck out of me.”

“I’m not very knowledgeable in such things myself.”

Yeah, right!
High Elf Archer snorted again, but she, too, felt like she was grasping at thin air; it was all a mystery. The party members looked at one another, but no answer was forthcoming.

“So what’s your feeling—does this have anything to do with that murdered lanista and the kidnapping?” Dwarf Shaman asked.

“I suppose it seems likely that he was killed because he was seen trying to abduct her,” Priestess offered.

“I must point out that at the moment, we have no positive evidence that this Silver Blaze is indeed the princess we seek,” Lizard Priest said.

“We don’t know for sure.” The helmet shook side to side. “But we have information. We can do what we can.”

That would seem to imply that this slayer of goblins had a next step in mind.

Good by me, then.

High Elf Archer, satisfied with this conclusion for her own part, glanced over at Baturu to see if her heightened emotions were finally starting to come down. The small centaur was rubbing her eyes; she slowly looked up to meet the lightning eyes of the other woman.

“Then…you’re saying that the princess was among those who were tricked and…and sold?”

“I’m afraid I can’t speak to that with any certainty. All I know is…” The tall centaur almost trailed off—not because anything dark loomed over them but out of compassion. One more time, she ran her fingers through the smaller girl’s hair. “All I know is the grace with which she ran.” She then added, “Though you may not wish to hear it.”

“No,” Baturu said, shaking her head, her mane fluttering with it. “I see now that you run with your whole heart. I saw it myself, and still I belittled you. For that, I can only apologize.”

“It’s all right. If a cute girl’s talking to me, I’m happy no matter what she says.” The centaur with the lightning eyes smiled broadly. The expression fit her gallant features perfectly, yet it also had a girlish
innocence. It was like a blossoming flower, and rather than exuding maturity, it made you realize how young she was. “If you want to clear your conscience, come cheer for me! I would love to dedicate a victory to a lovely young thing like you.”

“I…I wish you wouldn’t tease me…,” Baturu said. Girlish the centaur might be, but her behavior could be hard to watch.

At Baturu’s stammering response (accompanied by a blush in the cheeks), the other woman’s grin turned to something more mischievous. Even a few of the centaur girls practicing their running had stopped to stare—it was too much.

“Goodness gracious!” Lizard Priest said, shaking his long head in admiration, his eyes rolling. “You are a fair lady indeed! If you were a lizardman, I doubt I could keep my claws off you!”

High Elf Archer puffed out her cheeks—what was he even saying?—and jabbed him in the side.

“Most unfortunately,” replied the centaur, one of those lightning-shimmering eyes closing in a wink, “I’m partial to comely lasses myself.”

Oh, for…

This time it was Female Merchant’s turn to pout in exasperation.

§

“I’m going out for a bit,” Goblin Slayer said. “What will you do?”

“I’ll go with you!” Priestess said promptly.

They had just gotten back from the aurigae ludus
. The sun was getting lower in the sky, twilight spreading out above their heads. Night surged in like a wave, soon to swallow the town.

High Elf Archer was watching it from the window, looking thoughtful—a vision that could have been a painting in its own right. “I’ll stay here. I’m pretty tired,” she said, her jade eyes flitting over to the corner where Baturu knelt. “And I’d like to have a little chat.”

“Are you sure about that…?” Priestess asked.

“What’s to be sure about? It is what it is. Don’t give it another thought.” High Elf Archer waved at Priestess, who nodded. Instead of leaving Baturu stuck with her all the time, maybe it would help to have someone else try to talk to her once in a while.

In fact, I’m convinced.

There might be ways that an elf was closer to Baturu than a human like her was.

The conversation inspired Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest to share a quick glance and a nod. “S’pose we’d better try chatting with those lanistas, eh, Scaly?” Dwarf Shaman said.

“Mm, indeed. I think if we can find somewhere to treat them to a drink, they should be quite forthcoming,” Lizard Priest agreed. High Elf Archer giggled—it sounded like he just wanted a bite to eat—but her laughter was nothing malicious. It was just the usual humor between party members.

Goblin Slayer gazed around at the group, then said soberly, “Very well. I’ll trust you to take care of things.”

Though there was much Priestess still didn’t know, she had the impression that this was how urban adventures went—in other words, just as on a regular adventure, they each had their own role to play.

Come to think of it…

She realized it had been the same on their last adventure in the water town (that had been quite a while ago), and the thought brought a smile to her face.

The town streaked with twilight. The gondolas floating lazily along the canals. The sweet, cold ice treat. Somehow she only ever seemed to come here on adventures, and she’d never had a chance to just take in the sights.

“Still, I think the place seems calmer than before,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded as they walked along the road. “It’s just…sort of a feeling.”

“I see.”

It was probably because they had been able to drive out the goblins. That was certainly, unquestionably a good thing.

There was an ever so slight touch of softness in Goblin Slayer’s voice as he walked beside her, and it made Priestess’s steps lighter.

Even so, walking a new road in a city she didn’t know very well could be more confusing than delving a dungeon. Everywhere she
looked, there were flagstones and stone buildings, and the burbling of water came from everywhere at once. She had been so engaged in walking along with Goblin Slayer that she no longer knew where she was. If she’d been told at that moment to go back to the Temple, she didn’t think she could have made it. The racetrack was somewhere in town, too, yet she wasn’t sure where that might be, either. Instead, she worked hard to keep pace with Goblin Slayer as he strode through the roads.

The shadows of the looming buildings grew ever longer, quavering as the last light of day faded away.

“So, um, where are we going?” Priestess asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You…you don’t?”

That seemed to be the entirety of his explanation. Priestess couldn’t hold back a frown, and if Guild Girl had been there, she probably would have smiled wryly. Maybe only Cow Girl, waiting for his return back on the frontier, could have taken this answer with a straight face.

“Ah. No, that’s not what I mean,” Goblin Slayer added, evidently recognizing Priestess’s concern. “I have landmarks.”

“Landmarks?”

Goblin Slayer pointed to a chalk streak etched on the road, a tiny symbol. It would look like a child’s scribble if you hadn’t been told about it or didn’t know what you were looking for.

Oh!
Out of the flotsam of Priestess’s memories, an insight presented itself. “Is that from the Rogues Guild?”

“It’s a sign,” Goblin Slayer said. “Passed down, or so it’s said, from the Gray Wizard himself.”

The Rouges Guild—an association of criminals. A gathering of the unsavory and the underhanded. Priestess felt herself go stiff. It wasn’t that she specifically disliked the Rogues Guild—they’d helped her more than once.

But it’s…only natural to be a little nervous, right…?

“You’re sure they won’t mind you following their trail?” she asked.

“They would tell me if there was a problem.”

His words were brief, piercing—yet Priestess happily said, “Right!”
and nodded enthusiastically. For it meant she only had to follow and trust him.

With her experience, of course, she didn’t have to study the symbol in detail, let alone sketch it for herself. No sooner had she seen it than she was carving it into her memory.

What must Goblin Slayer have thought as Priestess followed him like an enthusiastic puppy? He was not one to be uncomfortable with silence—so his thoughtful quiet at that moment meant he was searching for the words.

Finally he said, “There is no particular need for you to remember that symbol. This method isn’t necessary for all adventurers.”

“It isn’t?”

“I needed it. So I learned about it.” Goblin Slayer took another corner at his nonchalant stride, heading for an intersection. He didn’t look back, but Priestess followed him dutifully. “As for you, you need only find a scout to be in your party.”

His advice was very brief—did that mean someone other than himself? Priestess didn’t quite understand. Did it mean he envisioned her leaving this party someday?

But that…

It seemed both eminently reasonable and completely unimaginable at the same time. Or wait, maybe he was simply referring to the times she’d temporarily teamed up with another party.

Hrm…

Yes, that has to be it
, Priestess told herself. This person always said what he meant. There were no hidden meanings lurking behind his words. Priestess thought she understood that much.

“However, you should be aware that such things exist,” he said.

Priestess responded earnestly: “Right.”

They seemed to be heading ever farther into a dark alleyway, yet the farther along they went, the livelier it seemed to get.

I wonder if we’re getting near the main street.

And so it turned out the place Goblin Slayer had brought her to was no seamy back alley. Instead it was a part of the town that was sophisticated, pretty, and calming, not unlike the arena they’d visited earlier
that day. There were classy inns and restaurants from which the alluring aromas of fancy cuisine emanated.

Beyond those places, there was another—a building so large and so elegant, it could have been mistaken for a king’s mansion: the casino.

§

When they entered the casino, for a moment, Priestess simply stopped and stared. It was all completely new to her. She had never heard so many coins jangling at once. She quickly realized that the source of the sound wasn’t actual money but small chips that were doing their best impression of currency. Even so, they must have represented a far greater sum than she had ever seen in one place in her life.

Populating the building were gentlemen and ladies of every sort, from every people group, wearing a dizzying array of fancy outfits. Goblin Slayer was leading her farther within, but Priestess’s eyes were going in every direction at every turn. Here there was a table covered in green felt, with chips sliding back and forth across it; there, dice were being rolled. Over in another corner, there was a racetrack small enough to fit on a table; a closer look revealed that players were racing with centaur-shaped pawns. They would lay down chips to advance their pieces, and occasionally cries of
“Ave Caesar!”
would ring out.

Maybe it was always more exciting to do something than to watch it. Humans couldn’t run like centaurs, after all.

Some people were tossing five dice hoping for matching faces; others rolled three skulls. Another game that appeared to be growing heated was one in which two pawns shaped like sword fighters closed in on each other. Just when you thought all the pawns must be riflemen with repeaters held aloft, you would notice pawns like beautiful goddesses, too. One thing all these games had in common: They were every one of them long-lived board games with a tradition and a history.

Many of them, though, were quite strange. Priestess was particularly intrigued by one that was about trying to get as much loot as you could out of a trap-filled dungeon. The deeper you went, the more
treasure you could get, but the more traps there would be—and the bigger the chance to lose it all.

Another thing that set Priestess’s eyes spinning was the profusion of beautiful and highly exposed young women. For a second, she thought they were harefolk, but then she would see human ears, or elf or dwarf ears, peeking out from their heads. So the rabbit ears were just some sort of accessory…

We certainly couldn’t bring
her
here
, Priestess reflected, thinking of the friend who waited back at the Temple as she took in the panoply of games. But then again, some of her other friends, like High Elf Archer or Female Merchant, would definitely enjoy themselves in this place. Even if Priestess could practically see Baturu frowning…

“…Do you suppose they have hnefatafl here?” she said, the thought occurring to her suddenly. It was the game she had played—and very much enjoyed—up north.

“You’re curious about these games? Would you like to play?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t…” She waved her hands vigorously. She hadn’t expected such a response from Goblin Slayer. He seemed like he might practically be about to give her some money to take to the tables, and what would that make her but a child getting her allowance?

Besides…

They were an adventurer in grimy armor, striding along, and a priestess in a dusty cloak, keeping pace through a sophisticated place of entertainment. Looks of disdain came their way from every direction, which Priestess noted with a sense of intimidation. She could tell she didn’t belong here, and she gripped her sounding staff firmly in both hands.

“
Ahem
, but anyway… Couldn’t we have come here from the main street?”

“The question is not where you’re going but how you get there,” Goblin Slayer said. It was like a riddle.

No, Priestess thought, it wasn’t
like
a riddle; it
was
a riddle. They had taken a roundabout route, following a series of mysterious symbols to get here—that had to be some sort of signal. For behold…

“Greetings, esteemed patron,” said a handsome man in a black suit, presumably an employee of the casino, who approached without a
sound. Priestess had enough experience from her various adventures to guess that this man must have trained as a scout. He greeted them as courteously as if they were members of the royal family. “This way, my good sir. And your friend…?”

“Hrm,” Goblin Slayer said, but he didn’t answer immediately. Priestess continued clutching her staff and tried standing up straighter. Finally he said, “Today, I want you to get used to this place.”

“Oh, y-yes, sir!” Priestess said, thrilled that he hadn’t said
wait here
or
stay behind
. Instead she felt it was an affirmation that she could learn much by watching things here. She bowed deeply in polite farewell, and Goblin Slayer walked off. The employee went alongside him, showing him into a back area of the casino.

From under his helmet, Goblin Slayer’s eyes flitted toward the man in the suit. “Would you be so kind as to keep an eye on her?”

“But of course, my dear patron. I had every intention.”

“Of course you did.”

It should have gone without saying. But these days, he felt he found himself saying more and more things that could have gone without being said. After all, the girl had scolded him so many times to the effect that if he didn’t say something, his message would never get across.

Which implies…