Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash vol. 1

20. The Little Pride of the Goblin Slayers

They woke before the bell rang at 6:00, and began to prepare. They ate whatever seemed good for breakfast, heading to the north gate for 8:00. They met up with Merry and headed to the Old City of Damuro. They still weren't done making their map of the Old City yet. They mapped out more of it while searching for goblins.

If it was just three goblins, they had gotten to the point where they could handle them without too much issue now. However, when the lightweight-class goblins that specialized in evasion were thrown into the mix, they had to be careful.

Sometime the goblins had ranged weapons, as well. Mostly it was crude shortbows. Their arrows were slow and didn't have much force, so they weren't that scary, but crossbows were dangerous. If they took a hit from them in the wrong place, crossbows could be instantly lethal. And heavily equipped goblins were sometimes strangely strong, so if they underestimated them, they would be in for trouble.

For groups of four or more, unless the conditions were exceptionally good, they let them go. Four goblins was about their limit.

If they saw a group of five, they pretended they hadn't. If there were five, six, or more goblins, it was safe to assume they were a family, or a clan, or some other group with their own territory. There were often similar groups nearby, so attacking one was like stepping on the tail of a tiger.

Most of the goblins acting alone looked poor, but sometimes they had valuable items hidden in their goblin pouches. That made them a target.

Once a day, they would go to that place.

The goblins of the Old City fell into two broad categories: those that stayed in one place and didn't move around much, and those that traveled from place to place. Those guys were the latter of the two. They were only in that place occasionally.

When the party saw them from a distance, they had a hard time just sitting still.

But, no. Don't rush it. It's not time yet.

Currently, Haruhiro's was the only party using the Old City of Damuro as their hunting grounds. They didn't need to worry about anyone stealing them from them. Now was the time to build their strength.

When they returned to Alterna, though not every day, they would go to Sherry's Tavern.

Not to do anything in particular. They just drank and talked. Merry didn't do much talking, but that was a million times better than Ranta, who talked far too much.

The other volunteer soldiers sometimes poked fun at them, saying, "Hey, Goblin Slayers," or "How's it hanging, Goblin Slayers?" or, "Is Damuro fun, widdle Goblin Slayers?" Actually, any time they went to the tavern, they could count on being called that once or twice.

Ranta would say, "Oh, shut up!" but if they got mad each and every time, there would be no end to it.

Haruhiro didn't mind the name that much, actually. He thought it didn't have such a bad ring to it.

Goblin Slayers. It's nice. I quite like it. If they're calling us that, we'll become the best goblin slayers in the Volunteer Soldier Corps.

Day after day, it was goblins, goblins, goblins. Goblinsgoblinsgoblins.

At first, all goblin faces looked the same to him, but now Haruhiro could tell them apart pretty well. The vast majority were male, and females were exceptionally rare, he noticed. According to Merry, most of the females were kept in the New City by upper-class goblins as wives.

"There's one harem I'm not at all jealous of..." Ranta said.

"Even goblin girls wouldn't take you, Ranta."