“Yes.”
It was the shortest of answers. Dispassionate, calm—the way he sounded when he was focusing his attention on something. There was a clatter as he pushed back his chair and got up with a nonchalant motion.
“I’m going to go gather my thoughts,” he said to Cow Girl. “May I leave her with you?”
“Huh? Oh…” Cow Girl was caught off guard, but she nodded. “Yeah, I…I don’t mind.”
“Pardon.” Goblin Slayer dipped his head. Priestess wanted to say something, but she couldn’t form the words, and in the end, she stayed silent. As for him, he swept the room with another motion of his helmet, then turned once more to the owner of the farm. “Thank you. You’ve been a help to me.”
“That so…?” His tone was ambiguous, admitting no exact emotion as he set his cup on the table. “Be glad if it were…”
“Yes, sir… This has been informative. Very.” And with that, Goblin Slayer strode boldly out of the room without so much as a backward glance. He opened the door of the main house, then shut it noisily.
“………”
“Ha-ha…”
Priestess and Cow Girl looked at the door, then at each other, and then they both shrugged, sharing a tired expression.
§
Their target is the farm, Goblin Slayer concluded, but then he quickly shook his head. And most likely, it’s just a means to an end.
The wind rustled through the grass at his feet, then blew past the stone wall and down the road. Goblin Slayer turned his head, watching it go, then looked up at the sky. He could see birds flying through the brilliant blue, high above. He squinted against the light that came in through his visor.
Everything seemed to swirl around him, to pull him in and draw him after it. He had never found his current situation disagreeable. How could he? It was just…
Fighting goblins in the confines of a cave was simpler. He found himself having the thought more frequently. Maybe, in the end, he really wasn’t cut out for this.
He sniffed at that superficial idea. Everything was a matter of do or do not do— Can or cannot had no part in this. That was all.
He fought to retain his typical vigilance as he started out toward the pasture and a nonchalant stride. As he walked along, lost in thought, the cows wandered over to the familiar armored figure. Giving them each a pat on the nose, he found a decent spot and sat down. Just mulling the whole problem over wasn’t getting anywhere, so it was time to organize what he knew. Goblin Slayer picked up a convenient stick and began scratching in the dirt.
They were after the farm. Why was that?
He drew a line, then a circle at the end of it, and then added a smaller circle beside that one. He drew the town and the byway, the farm, and then lines representing the stone wall and the fence, as best he could remember them all.
Destroy the fence, dismantle the stone wall, flatten the pastures—it would leave the farm naked. But to what end?
Their target is the farm.
Of that much, at least, he was sure. It was clear that this was some kind of stratagem for that purpose. Perhaps it seemed a little paranoid, but sometimes one needed a little paranoia. Many a rogue could have told you how an excess of caution had saved their lives.
But Goblin Slayer grunted softly. He couldn’t elaborate his diagram any further.
It wouldn’t end if he protected the farm. It wouldn’t end if he killed the goblins. It wouldn’t even end if he destroyed the nest.
Adventuring is…quite difficult.
“Well, if it isn’t Goblin Slayer. Having a nice little conversation with yourself?”
The cool, clear voice came at him from over his head. Hrk, he grunted and looked up to discover the dauntless grin of Female Knight. Behind her was Heavy Warrior, looking put out, along with their other party members, Scout Boy, Druid Girl, and Half-Elf Light Warrior. That had to mean…
“An adventure?”
“Er, nah, just heading to the water town. The others’ll meet us, and we’ll all link up.”
Goblin Slayer searched his recollections and concluded that “the others” must be Spearman and Witch.
“So what’s got you so worked up anyway? Hey…what’s this?”
“A map,” he said as Female Knight craned her neck to see. He poked one of the small circles with the stick in his hand. “I don’t understand why the enemy would attack here,” he grunted. “Even though it has happened before.”
“Well, obviously, because it’s a branch castle.” She said it like it was so simple. Female Knight puffed out her armor-covered chest proudly, as if to say, You don’t even know that?
“A branch castle.”
“Uh-huh. They’re sometimes called supporting castles, but the point is, it’s a fortification that helps protect the main castle. Sometimes they’ll build simple ones during castle sieges.”
“Hmm.” Goblin Slayer made a sound of gratitude for this perspective from an unlooked-for place. Branch castle—it was a fascinating term. An expression from a field he knew nothing of. He focused his concentration.
Female Knight, however, didn’t appear to notice as she continued to expound. “You can’t just ignore the branch and attack the main fortifications. But at the same time, when you try to attack the supporting castle, you find yourself under siege from the main castle, too.”
“A dangerous proposition.”
“Mm.” Female Knight nodded. “So a lot of strategies account for the best way to get rid of any supporting bastions.”
For example, you might offer peace in exchange for the dismantling of branch castles…
She spoke fluently of military engagements, of stories drawn from actual battles—the sorts of things a knight might be expected to know. He did not know anything about her past, but an itinerant knight or knight errant was still a knight.
“I see” was all Goblin Slayer said as he nodded and tried to force all this into his head. He didn’t have the intelligence to remember it all at once. But he could always make the effort to try to remember.
“…Naw, I know what this is—it’s a map of this farm, ain’t it?”
“Hrgh?!” Female Knight almost choked as she found her lecture interrupted by Heavy Warrior, peering over her shoulder. She fixed him with a glare as she said, still imperiously, “Wha—? But— Hey! What I said made sense, didn’t it?! It made so much sense!”
“No,” Goblin Slayer said. He felt sincere respect, and he endeavored to take a polite tone. “It’s a fact… This was helpful. I appreciate it.”
“There, see!” Female Knight sniffed victoriously at this show of support, while Heavy Warrior only sighed. He appeared to feel that this was an ongoing problem with knights—or perhaps with this particular knight.
Goblin Slayer regarded the two of them and their party, and then—maybe he felt it was the right thing to do—bowed his head. “Pardon me. I didn’t mean to take your time while you were getting on your way.”
“Aw, don’t mention it.” Heavy Warrior waved a gloved hand and grinned. “Trying to save time by acting like you don’t have any, that’s when you lose the most of all.”
“Is that the case?”
“Sure is. Depending on the time and the situation, ’course.”
“I see.”
And then, after this brief conversation, Heavy Warrior and his party set out on the road once again.
The journey to the water town. The number of days it would take to go there and back again. What would be done there—Goblin Slayer thought about all of it.
What should he do? How should he act?
Heavy Warrior had said once—when was it?—that he wished he were king. Indeed, Goblin Slayer could see now what a difficult position that would be. It was not something that could be handled simply by destroying the goblins in front of you. You had to see more, know more, think more, and make firm decisions.
“…Adventuring is hard.” As Goblin Slayer strode away at his bold pace, he thought about what was in his pocket.
His hand was there. Always. And with his hand, he could enact a plan.
At the moment, most of his plans were not very adventurer-ish.
So what should he do?
Be roguelike—that was the answer.