How must she have looked to the man—Goblin Slayer—as she sat dumbly, forgetting even the pain in her shoulder? He strode closer until he loomed over her, frightening Priestess and making her tremble.
Even now, up close and with the torch illuminating him, his visor hid his face, and she couldn’t see his eyes. It was as if the armor was filled with the same darkness as the cave.
“You just registered?” Goblin Slayer asked quietly, noticing the rank tag hanging around her neck. He had one, too. It swayed gently in the light of the torch, which he had set on the floor. The color reflected dimly in that little bubble of light—it was unmistakably silver.
Priestess let out a small “oh…” She knew what that color meant. It was the third-highest rank in the Guild’s ten-level system.
Only a few people in history had achieved Platinum rank, and those of Gold rank usually worked for the national government, but after those came Silver, indicating some of the most-skilled unaffiliated adventurers plying their trade independently.
“You’re…Silver rank.” He was a hardened veteran who could hardly have been further removed from the Porcelain-ranked Priestess.
“I’m sure if you wait a while, some other adventurers will show up…”
Could this have been the adventurer about whom Guild Girl had been speaking?
“So you can talk.”
“Huh?”
“You’re lucky.”
Goblin Slayer’s hands moved so easily, she didn’t have time to react.
“Wha—? Ahh!”
The arrow’s hooks tore her flesh as he pulled it out, the sudden wave of pain leaving her breathless. Blood flowed from the wound as her eyes welled up with tears.
With the same casual manner, Goblin Slayer reached for a bag on his belt and took out a small bottle.
“Drink this.”
Through the clear glass, she saw a green liquid that emitted gentle phosphorescence—a healing potion.
Just what Priestess and her party had wanted but had had neither money nor time to buy.
She could have simply taken it but instead glanced back and forth between the bottle and the wounded Wizard.
“S-sir!” To her surprise, when she managed to make her voice work once, the words came pouring out of her. “C-couldn’t we give it to her? My miracle couldn’t—”
“Where is she hurt? What happened?”
“I-it was a dagger…in her stomach…”
“A dagger…”
Goblin Slayer felt Wizard’s abdomen in that same assured way. When he jabbed it with a finger, she coughed up more blood. Throughout his brisk examination, he didn’t so much as glance at Priestess, who huddled protectively over Wizard. Then he said flatly, “Give up.”
Shocked, Priestess turned pale and swallowed heavily. She hugged Wizard tighter.
“Look.” Goblin Slayer pulled out the dagger still lodged in the mail under his shoulder. A dark, viscous liquid she couldn’t identify was slathered all along the blade.
“Poison.”
“P-poison…?”
“They make it from a mixture of their own spittle and excrement, along with herbs they find in the wild.”
“You’re lucky.”
Priestess gulped again as the full meaning of Goblin Slayer’s words dawned on her.
Lucky the arrowhead hadn’t been dipped in poison, so she was still here. Lucky the goblin with the dagger hadn’t been the first to attack her…
“When this poison gets in your system, first you have trouble breathing. Your tongue starts to spasm, then your whole body. Soon, you develop a fever, lose consciousness, then you die.”
He wiped the chipped blade with the goblin’s loincloth and stashed it on his belt, then murmured inside his helmet, “They’re such dirty creatures.”
“I-if she’s been poisoned, all we need is to cure it, right…?”
“If you mean an antidote, then I have one, but the poison’s been in her for too long. It’s too late.”
“Oh…!”
Just then, Wizard’s rolling eyes focused ever so briefly. She gurgled from the blood in her throat, and with trembling lips, she formed words without a sound, without voice. “…ill…e…”
“Understood.”
No sooner had he said it than Goblin Slayer cut Wizard’s throat.
Wizard jumped, gave a low moan, then coughed up one more mouthful of bloody foam and died.
Inspecting the blade, Goblin Slayer clicked his tongue when he saw it had been blunted by fat.
“Don’t be upset,” he said.
“How can you say that?!” Priestess exclaimed. “Maybe…maybe we still could have…helped her…” She clutched Wizard’s body, gone limp and lifelessly heavy.
But—
She couldn’t get the rest of the words out. Had Wizard really been beyond saving? And if so, was killing her a kindness? Priestess did not know.
She only knew she had not yet been given the miracle cure, which neutralized poison. There was an antidote here, but it belonged to the man in front of her. It wasn’t hers to give. Priestess sat on the ground shaking, unable to drink the potion or even to stand.
“Listen,” Goblin Slayer said brusquely. “These monsters aren’t bright, but they’re not fools. They were at least smart enough to take out your spell caster first.” He paused, then pointed. “Look there.”
Hanging from the wall were a dead rat and a crow’s feather. “Those are goblin totems. There’s a shaman here.”
“A shaman…?”
“You don’t know about shamans?”
Priestess shook her head uneasily.
“They’re spell casters. Better than your friend here.”
Goblin spell casters? Priestess had never heard of such a thing. If she had, maybe her party would still be alive…
No.
She resigned herself to the thought in her heart. Even if they had known, they wouldn’t have considered these shamans something to be afraid of. Goblins were weak prey, a way for new adventurers to cut their teeth.
Or so she had believed until earlier that day.
“Did you see any big ones?” Goblin Slayer studied her face again as she knelt on the ground.
This time—just barely—she could see his eyes. A cold, almost mechanical light shone from within that dirty helmet.
Priestess stirred and then stiffened, disturbed by the unflinching gaze that watched her from inside the helm. She suddenly remembered the warm moisture on her legs.
She had been attacked by goblins, watched her friends die in moments, saw her party all but annihilated, and she alone had survived.
It seemed unreal.
The throbbing pain in her shoulder and the humiliation of wetting herself, on the other hand, were undeniable.
“Y-yes, there was one…I think… Just running away, took everything I had…” She shook
her head weakly, trying to call up the dim memory.
“That was a hobgoblin. Maybe they took on a wanderer as a guard.”
“A hob… You mean a hearth fairy?”
“Distant relative.”
Goblin Slayer checked his weapons and armor, then stood. “I’ll follow their tunnel. I have to deal with them here.”
Priestess looked up at him. He was already looking away from her, staring into the blackness ahead.
“Can you make it back on your own, or will you wait here?”
She clung to her sounding staff with exhausted hands, forcing her trembling legs to push her up as tears beaded in her eyes.
“I’m…going…with you!”
It was her only choice. She couldn’t bear either going back by herself or being left there all alone.
Goblin Slayer nodded. “Then drink the potion.”
As Priestess gulped down the bitter medicine, the heat in her shoulder began to fade. The potion contained at least ten different herbs and wouldn’t do anything dramatic, but it would stop the pain.
Priestess gave a relieved sigh. It was the first time she had ever drunk a potion.
Goblin Slayer watched her down the last of it. “All right,” he said, and he set off into the murk. There was no hesitation in his stride; he never paused to look back at her. She scurried to keep up with him, afraid of being left behind.
As they went, she cast a glance back. Back at the still, silent Wizard.
There was nothing Priestess could say. Biting her lip, she bowed her head deeper and vowed to come back for her friend.
