Goblin Subjugation (7)
A goblin burrow always has more than one entrance.
I had figured they designed it that way so the whole nest could scatter down different tunnels the moment something bigger came knocking. Apparently these fifty goblins had decided a dozen humans weren’t worth the trouble of running. They came pouring down the hillside in a single, chittering mass.
Professor Anton and Paul were already climbing the slope at an almost leisurely pace.
Among the swordsmanship faculty—and, if the students’ gossip was right, among the entire kingdom—Anton ranked at the very top. More precisely, he ranked among the best on the whole continent. Naturally he was the strongest man in the Academy as well.
The black-haired first-year walking beside him was Paul, a commoner with no noble blood at all. He was already the finest swordsman in his year and the clear favorite of the professor. Watching him now, I could see why.
A low thud of mana rolled out of him; the power wrapped his body like a second skin. Then he simply walked into the goblin swarm.
His line was perfectly straight. Even the lightest thrust found a vital point, and a goblin is still a living thing—once steel is planted in the right place it falls.
After only a few exchanges I understood something fundamental: in swordsmanship, talent is more than half the battle.
Paul’s blade came down in a single vertical cut. A terrifying whistle of air split the hillside; goblin arms and legs cartwheeled through empty space. With a dull clang several bodies were flung skyward like rag dolls.
“Paul! Too many wasted motions. You’ll tire yourself out at that rate!”
The professor’s voice carried easily across the slope.
He’s still not satisfied even with that? I watched every movement with open admiration.
“Wow… he’s incredible. Really incredible.”
The boy standing next to me snickered as if I’d just told a good joke.
“Paul got in on pure talent alone. I doubt there’s a single second-year who could take him.”
“I see…”
A short while later, after cutting down more than a dozen goblins, Paul finally stepped back, breathing hard. Anton took his place.
Anton was strong.
In less than five minutes every goblin was dead. Where the professor had passed, only corpses remained.
“Miss Blair, we could barely handle one goblin between us, and this… this is just a one-sided massacre.”
Crane’s voice was thin; the last word trailed off. He kept his face turned away as if the sight saddened him, yet he kept stealing little glances, waiting for my reply.
“The gap is so huge I don’t even know what to say. If we keep working at it, maybe we’ll get better too.”
“That Paul kid is the same age as us… how can he already move like that…”
A low groan slipped from Crane’s throat.
“Ever since the ambush scattered us, my head’s been spinning nonstop.”
“About that ambush, Miss Blair…”
He folded his arms and let out a long breath.
“Hm? What about it?”
“It wasn’t the goblins. I heard it from the other students.”
“What? If it wasn’t goblins, then who?”
I stared at him with wide eyes. Crane fell silent, scanning the surroundings. Only after another stretch of quiet did he speak again.
“Kingdom humans staged the ambush. The professor traced the arrows and confirmed it.”
“You’re saying… someone deliberately targeted Academy students?”
Looking back, it had always felt wrong. There was no way the goblins could have known we were coming to support the subjugation. Had the very people who requested help dug a trap and waited for us?
I still remembered the moment clearly: twin explosions on both sides of the ravine, earth cascading down, arrows falling like rain. That kind of ambush required knowing our exact route and positioning a sizable force with military precision.
While Crane and I talked, the rest of the work finished. Every adult goblin had been slain. Students formed groups of three and entered the burrow, killing the remaining young and freeing the captive women.
Of the five village women pulled from the tunnels, two had bellies swollen as if heavy with child.
So the stories about goblins breeding with human women are true after all?
“Ugh…”
I clamped a hand over my mouth and barely managed to keep the rising nausea down.
With the subjugation complete, we hurried back to the Academy.
The corridor of the Academy hospital was quiet.
The only people moving with any purpose were temple priests, healers, and the families of patients. None of them had reason to raise their voices. Even the friends and relatives waiting to take discharged patients home spoke in low, careful tones.
After finishing the discharge paperwork I emptied the remaining coins from the pouch the Baron had given me and counted them again.
The priests’ recovery magic had worked better than expected, but the bill was another matter. Four days of hospitalization for an arrow through the calf, plus treatment fees, had eaten through the gold coins from the Blair estate and most of my living allowance as well.
The thought of scraping by until next month’s stipend arrived made my chest tighten.
“Haa…”
A sigh escaped before I could stop it.
Fana had come to meet me on discharge day; her face was darker than usual.
“Unnie… there’s some bad news.”
“What is it?”
“Word came from home. Until things improve they can’t send living expenses. They said we should try to manage somehow…”
“What? What happened?”
“Father was swindled out of the wheat sales money. He lost a huge sum.”
“Oh no…”
All I could do was sigh again.
The Blair barony’s only real income was the vast wheat harvest from the plains. If that payment was gone, there was nowhere else for money to come from. Tuition and dormitory fees had already been paid in advance, but everything else—starting with food—was now a problem.
“Maybe I should look for work somewhere too…”
At Fana’s words I pressed my lips shut. She clasped her hands together, anxiety plain on her face.
“No. I spent too much buying things, and I got myself hurt volunteering for the subjugation, so the hospital bill is on me. I’ll take care of it.”
A part-time job should fix this, right? I told myself that simple thought and spoke to her in a soothing tone.
Before coming to this world I had worked every kind of odd job; it couldn’t be that hard. But the ways a poor Academy student could earn money were surprisingly few. Without the Academy’s restrictions I might have tried anything, yet finding work that still left room for classes and training was never easy. On top of that I now had to cover living expenses for two—myself and my little sister Fana.
“Hmm…”
I walked the crowded Academy shopping street in silence, eyes sweeping every storefront.
All the good spots are probably taken already…
Most part-time work paid about five guilders an hour. My calf had healed, but it still ached; anything that required running or sudden movement was out of the question.
When I asked Professor Anton, he mentioned an acquaintance who ran a bakery and needed a female student to help with sales. That was where I was headed now.
The address led to a corner of a prime commercial street and a bakery called Soul of the Twin Swords.
Why would anyone name a bakery “Soul of the Twin Swords”…?
But I needed the job. Whether it was called Soul of the Twin Swords or Dragon’s Balls made no difference.
“Hello.”
“Welcome! Fresh bread just came out of the oven—try a piece.”
The owner flashed a white-toothed smile. He looked to be in his fifties, a thickly muscled, unmistakably macho man.
“Um… I’m not a customer. Professor Anton sent me. My name is May Blair.”
I bowed, voice a little tight with nerves.
“Ah, the student coming for the part-time job. I heard. Family troubles, short on hospital and living money…”
He said nothing more for a moment, simply ran his eyes from the top of my head to the tips of my shoes, then spoke again.
“We’ll start you today, then. Six hours a day, ten guilders an hour.”
“What? Really?”
I was genuinely startled. Ten guilders an hour was nearly double the usual rate.
“The work itself isn’t hard. I’ll teach you how to arrange the bread and so on little by little. For now just handle the register and cleaning. Call me Manager.”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
The manager kept staring at me, then seemed to remember something.
“By the way, what’s your relationship with Professor Anton?”
“Pardon? He’s my benefactor. Someone I deeply respect.”
“So nothing special between you?”
“Of course not.”
At that answer his eyes lit with interest and slid over my body as if licking it. Then, in a voice suddenly warm and friendly, he said,
“Thanks to you, Miss May, this bakery’s sales are going to climb. I like you already. Looking forward to working together.”
I felt a flush of awkwardness under the sticky weight of his gaze.