Goblin Slayer, Vol. 10[100-107] PDF

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“Information.” Goblin Slayer’s reply could not have been more brusque. “A wine merchant, the water town. I want to know what he’s been doing lately.” “Wha—?” Priestess nearly dropped the glass from which she had been about to take a delicate sip. This person he mentioned—he wasn’t totally irrelevant to what was happening, but still. Priestess blinked, grunted softly almost the way he did, but then tilted her head when she received no response. “…What’s his connection to you?” “I don’t know,” Goblin Slayer replied, another brusque answer. “That’s why I’m investigating… Or having him investigated. And then I’ll make my move.” “Aha,” the shopkeeper said, stroking his chin in what might have been admiration. “I see now…” And then he circled one of his short, fat fingers in the air, like a spider weaving thread. “And how much, for this information?” “How much do you want?” Priestess let out a breath. Huh, I should have known he wouldn’t bother negotiating. That was when the eyes below the kerchief squinted. The voice got low, like a dagger held in the hand. “Y’mean t’slap our face with money?” “That’s right,” Goblin Slayer replied, as though nothing were unusual. “This is an important request. If it’s too much for you, fine.” “Yer suggestin’ we can’t handle it?” “Can you?” A pair of appraising eyes stared from under the gray kerchief, into the cheap-looking metal helmet. Priestess discovered she had been clinging tighter and tighter to her sounding staff without realizing it, out of a subconscious recognition that something—she didn’t know what—was about to happen. It wasn’t caution, of course, that caused her to clutch her staff, or the desire to be able to react instantly—it was simple fear. This was not the kind of adventure she was used to, the kind that took place out in the field. This was urban adventuring, city adventuring. A situation she knew absolutely nothing about, she realized belatedly. She’d thought she had learned a thing or two in the past two years, and now—this. “…” The air was tense, and Priestess realized she could no longer hear the

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strains of music from the corner. She swallowed heavily, feeling like the sound must be audible all over the bar; she could hardly take a breath. She had no idea how much time had passed—probably less than she thought—when the shopkeeper held up three fingers. Goblin Slayer, seeing it, nonchalantly dug through his item bag, produced four small pouches of gold coins, and slid them over. They jingled as they ran along the countertop. At length, the shopkeeper let out a breath. “…Yer not much of a negotiator, good sir. There’s a fine line between bein’ generous and bein’ a mark.” “You and I are neither friends nor companions,” Goblin Slayer said softly, a breath rasping out from beneath his helmet. “But I’m asking you to do that which I cannot. It’s only fair that you have your price for it.” The shopkeeper in his gray kerchief studied the cheap-looking helmet with a mixture of seriousness and exasperation. Finally he said, “All these years and not a peep from ya—I thought you’d washed your hands of us. Then finally y’show up, and this is what y’do… I swear, only our dear Burglar could produce a student like you.” Was that annoyance or admiration Priestess detected in the whisper? She wasn’t sure. Then again, the words—and the way he said them—sounded much like the way she herself often spoke of Goblin Slayer. The shopkeeper slowly shook his head from side to side, grabbed the little pouches, and stuffed them in a bag. Then his gaze turned to her. “Best pay close attention, young lady. He may not look like much, but he’s an adventurer of Silver rank. Gonna be a right help to you very soon, he is.” For the first time since she had arrived, Priestess’s expression softened, and she giggled. Yes, she said, she knew that. “Good, good,” the man in the gray kerchief replied, patting his chest, which now bulged with coins. “A request from this master here, we’ll try our best to accommodate.” Goblin Slayer also did something for the first time since they had arrived —he shifted uncomfortably. “…Don’t call me master.” From the sound of his voice alone, Priestess knew. He was embarrassed. §

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“Phew…” Outside, the sky was as clear and blue as when you wake up from a dream or burst through the surface of the water. Priestess found herself making a sound of relief and taking grateful gulps of air. It had been so suffocating inside, almost literally—not just the space but the conversation. She knew fervently that such a place was not her territory. It wasn’t repulsion she felt but alienation. It was not a place she belonged—a truth she comprehended completely, even if not rationally. “What… What was that place?” She looked back and saw nothing but a cozy general store. That was all. But it would never look the same to her again. “A gathering place for runners. Underground adventurers.” Goblin Slayer’s words were disinterested, mercilessly brief. He did not look back but only went ahead at his bold stride, leaving Priestess to rush to catch up with him. “Underground…,” she gasped. “You mean, they haven’t registered with the Guild?” “Yes.” Priestess really didn’t understand any of this. That meant they went without the proof of identity offered by the Adventurers Guild, without the guarantees about quests, with nothing. Nothing except themselves—a precarious position indeed. “That’s why they use those signs and rituals—to verify who you are and to protect themselves.” He still sounded dispassionate, but he seemed to have read her mind. To live in complete freedom, unattached to anything, was also to be completely unprotected from anything. The right to simply drift along meant the obligation to accept that you might die in the wilderness with no one to find you. Perhaps that was what made one a no-goodnik, a rogue. “All it means is that places like this do exist, and some people do live this way.” Goblin Slayer stopped in front of Priestess, who had gone tense as if from fear. His words were as dispassionate as ever, and yet… It isn’t a place he comes willingly. That, Priestess thought, was what he was really saying. “Goblin slaying,” he said, and then he fell silent for a moment. “Goblin slaying alone is not adventure.”

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“Yes, sir” was all Priestess could manage. She thought she understood, distantly, why he had never come to this place until now. They walked a little farther, until Priestess finally and truly felt she had gotten some distance from the general store, and then she stole a glance backward. She took a breath as she looked at the building looming in the distance. “Do you think…those are good people there? Or…bad people?” “They take money. Sometimes they do good things for it, sometimes bad. That’s how it is.” Priestess found that, still, this way of life seemed incomprehensibly foreign to her. “I see.” She wasn’t sure if the small whisper reached him where his back was turned to her. He had started walking again, stride, stride, and she jogged to catch up. “So next, we…?” “Gather evidence. That’s what the man said, and that’s what we’re going to do.” “Evidence…?” “Yes,” Goblin Slayer said, but then he let out a breath. It almost sounded like he had laughed, ever so quietly. “It’s only something I learned from my master. I never had anything to do with them.” “Yes, sir!” Priestess nodded. She felt as if the weight on her heart had lifted a little. § “Guess my talk was too hasty.” I thought gathering information meant we were going to be visiting another dirty back alley. Not this place… Priestess fidgeted, the sheer surprise making her uncomfortable. The room was thoroughly organized and clean. The table was free of dust or food. Priestess was seated squarely on one of the chairs. They had left the frontier town and traveled down the road a ways, between the stone wall and the fence, through the pastures full of grass. To the farm, the farm where Goblin Slayer lived.

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“Is that so?” “It is, it is…” Goblin Slayer, seated beside her, was conversing with a middle-aged man across from him, the owner of the farm. Of course, it wasn’t that Priestess had never met this person. She had spoken to him before and had even had reason to visit this farm. That first spring battle after she became an adventurer—even now it remained vividly in her memory. So this man was not a complete stranger, but she had never sat down with him for a conversation like this. Urrgh… Her gaze shifted uneasily, eventually meeting that of Cow Girl, who was also at the table. Cow Girl had been surprised to see him come back in the middle of the day and had been even more surprised to see Priestess with him. The third surprise was when he’d said he had something to discuss with the owner; she had gone to the main house, indicating that she would make tea. And so she had, and she poured it into a teacup, which now sat before Priestess. She brought the steaming cup to her lips and let out a breath. It was strange: It tasted somehow like the tea Guild Girl offered them at the Guild. Maybe she uses the same leaves. It was just a passing thought for Priestess, but as it crossed her mind, she noticed Cow Girl chuckling. He’s seriously hopeless, isn’t he? she seemed to be saying, and that made Priestess feel even more relaxed, and she began to smile. “So his suggestion…was that you get rid of the pastureland and turn it into fields?” “In so many words, yes. Tear up that old fence and that stone wall, he said. Build something new, he said.” The owner looked like he was about to explode. He didn’t appear to wonder why Goblin Slayer was asking about this. Perhaps it just seemed normal to him… Or did it? Priestess didn’t know. “The price he offered wasn’t bad. And I’m not a young man anymore. If I don’t hire some help, I don’t see how this farm can go on forever.” So eventually I’ll have to change things was what he seemed to be saying. He frowned. “But I am an old man. Set in my ways. To do something completely new now—I don’t have the heart for it.” “I see,” Goblin Slayer said obligingly and glanced out the window. Or

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more precisely, Priestess thought he did; she could never tell exactly where he was looking thanks to his helmet. She followed his gaze (or assumed she did), which took in the spreading pasture, the cows contentedly munching on the grass. It was by no means a large farm, but it was a well-kept piece of land, a place to be proud of, she thought. Goblin Slayer seemed to feel the same, for when he spoke again, he still sounded thoughtful and polite. “And it would take a good deal of help to convert this land to fields anyway.” “I admit, some of it’s that I personally don’t like the idea. The merchant said he would find people to do all the work.” The owner could just take the money, take the help, obediently turned his pastures to fields, and live out his life. Yes, yes, that could be a very easy existence indeed. He would have so many hired hands, he wouldn’t even have to work himself. He could simply sit and enjoy his dotage. “But I tell you,” he said, “I may not look like much, but I’m a yeoman, a freeholder.” A touch of self-admonition entered his voice. It was he who had protected this land, he who had cultivated this land—it was his land. Whether he hired helpers or turned the whole place to crop fields, it was he who would make the decisions for his land. “…” Under his helmet, Goblin Slayer took a breath in, then let it out. “I believe you.” It was just those three words, but his answer seemed to satisfy the owner, who nodded slowly. Then, his face still stern, he said, “The old dog even said he had a marriage proposal for you…” “What?” someone said, accompanied by the clattering of a teacup—was it Priestess or Cow Girl? Cow Girl, at the very least, stood up from her chair. Her eyes were open wide, and her voice prickled with what might have been bewilderment, or confusion, or even simple pique. “What the hell? I didn’t hear anything about that.” “Because I turned him down,” her uncle said flatly. He picked up his cup of dark tea and took a sip. “We aren’t nobility, here. We don’t think about each other in terms of what would be best for business.” Maybe that wasn’t what Cow Girl had wanted to hear. Still red in the face, she swung her arms aimlessly, making a sort of moaning sound. Priestess, now very uncomfortable, kept her eyes down but managed to sneak a glance at him. She couldn’t see his expression—what was he thinking? How did he

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feel about this? “…” Goblin Slayer grunted softly, then fell into a sullen silence. She hadn’t seen him pick up the cup in front of him, but she noticed that it was empty.

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