Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Rista
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"If you want to escape safely, don't let go of my back and follow me."
The city slumbered within a fog of sorcery.
Visibility was abysmal—you couldn't see ten meters ahead. The sky held neither moon nor a single star.
Caw, caw, caw... Aside from the eerie, chilling cries of crows, the world was filled with an unsettling silence.
"What the hell is this fog...?"
Trailing behind the Goblin Slayer, I tried using Bell Quirius to dispel it, but no matter how much I burned away, it never ended.
A perfect combination of incantation-type Altigma, amplification-type Delvasch, and taboo-type Orvios—one that inspired awe even toward the sorcerer. This blend was infinitely multiplying the fog.
My versatile abilities had been reduced to near zero, and even Bell Quirius was unusable at will. It was the worst possible environment for me.
'I feel like I've seen something like this before... When and where? This spell combination feels tailor-made to counter Bell Quirius...'
Since the fog was constructed from spells, even Bell Sidias couldn't peer beyond it. In other words, using mana sight filled my vision with strings of 010100101 gibberish, blocking everything out.
"No time to space out."
In that instant, a corner window shattered, and a hulking brute burst from the dust cloud, swinging a greatsword.
It was a stealth attack that had erased even its killing intent within the fog, yet the Goblin Slayer countered with absurd speed and precision.
He caught the greatsword on the edge of his shield, grinding against it before sparks flew as he closed in and drove his blade into the brute's throat.
"Don't give me that look. He's dead anyway."
As the brute thrashed vigorously despite the throat wound, the Goblin Slayer plunged his blade tip into its heart. A crow's wail echoed, and the brute went still.
"These are crows at their core. Adventurers who've had their bodies hijacked."
But that wasn't the end of the ambush—the Goblin Slayer's skills weren't limited to that either.
With fluid motions like flowing water, he subdued enemies emerging from the fog using daggers, short swords, and shortbows in perfect harmony. It was the artistry of a true master, drawing involuntary admiration.
The first assailant struck by a thrown dagger dropped to his knees. He snatched a longsword from the man's belt and slashed the second brute's thigh, toppling him. Before the third woman could open her grimoire and cast, he embedded an arrow in her shoulder.
The gruesome part was how crows crawled from their heart regions each time... The Goblin Slayer called them corpse crows.
- Lin.
Staring at the Goblin Slayer's back, an inexplicably nostalgic silhouette surfaced in my mind. But I shook my head to dispel it. That guy's dead—three hundred years ago.
"Behind you!"
As he finished off a mage, I hurled a fireball at the brute approaching his back.
"Gaaah—"
The flames incinerated not just the brute's body but the crow inside in one go. The Goblin Slayer nodded and beckoned.
"This way—hurry!"
I dashed after him.
Past a half-collapsed stone wall where rainwater pooled ankle-deep in the muddy path, through a warehouse stacked with beer barrels, into the inner ramparts.
"How do you know the way so well?"
"Crawling through sewers hunting thousands of goblins makes it nothing. Goblin nests are tougher."
As he spoke, the Goblin Slayer drew two daggers from his shoulders and hurled them into the fog. Immediately, someone thudded to the ground.
Damn, he's incredible...
Who the hell is this guy?
It wasn't the pinnacle of swordsmanship—more like he'd ascended to mastery through harmony of gear. Hunting thousands of goblins? No way that wasn't a lie.
"<Landkeep> has four gates. Three are guarded city gates, closed at this late hour."
"And the other?"
"A hidden postern in the southeast. We'll exit to the Crimson Range through there."
"The Crimson Range? That's—"
"—Quiet."
In that moment, the Goblin Slayer yanked my shoulder into the shadows of an ivy-covered wall.
I realized why, and my lips trembled. A dozen armored figures soon clattered past the alley in front of us.
No denying it now. The Black Church was definitely after me. I whispered, holding my breath.
"They're looking for me too? How many are there?"
"Explanations later."
How long had we pushed through the fog when the postern appeared—but dozens of crows circled overhead, their dark blue eyes gleaming.
"Wait here."
The Goblin Slayer crept toward a building flush against the ramparts. It looked like a soldiers' stable, secured with a massive padlock.
...!
That was when one crow spotted us. Its chilling screech drew the others' gazes, cold sweat beading down my spine.
Another part of the sorcery...?
The runes were utterly different, but the structure was eerily similar to Rudiyën, sending shivers down my spine.
"Bell Quirius."
The fog warped my vision grotesquely, inducing vertigo, but with us spotted, I couldn't ignore them.
No sooner had seven-petaled white flowers bloomed in my eyes—those observing fate's domain—than they oxidized to ash in transcendent flames.
My mind burned white, blood streaming from my eyes in backlash as I clutched my forehead. That's when the Goblin Slayer spoke.
"Come on—in."
In that time, he'd picked the padlock with a few twists of wire, carefully opening the door and gesturing me inside.
"What's this?"
A large trapdoor lay in the building's floor. The Goblin Slayer gripped its handle with both hands.
"Sewers. The only safe way out of <Landkeep> right now."
The trapdoor opened to a stench of rotting sewage assaulting my nose, triggering instinctive revulsion... But with unknown enemies about, no choice.
Endless rain had turned the sewer floor's filth into a waist-high torrent.
The Goblin Slayer lit a torch with flint and led, illuminating the dark surface. The roar of the rapids was so loud we could barely talk.
"Hey, how much farther?"
"Shut up unless you want to swallow shitwater."
"Ugh..."
I'd nearly slipped several times when Aki, roused from happy sleep, grumbled in her sleep before snapping her eyes open.
"Fooing...?"
Spotting the sewage waves surging behind, she cackled wildly, thrashing to escape Celesia's sling.
"No, no, bad! Aki, sit—stay still...!"
"Spla-sh!"
"Wait, Aki, wait! Stay!"
"Nyunge, nyunge, nyunge."
I'd gone through hell bathing this one already—do it again? Better to die.
Chaos reigned.
Amid the sewers' fetid reek and Aki's antics, bile rose to my throat when light glinted far ahead on the surface.
Light shining in.
The sewer pipe ended above rapids feeding into a tributary of the Darcheri River, which pierced the Empire's southwest. Diving in, the water was so clear and refreshing...
Aki splashed joyfully with out-out shouts, while Pipi pecked my head furiously for the cold dunk.
"Sorry, sorry! My bad—stop!"
Perhaps pitying me, the Goblin Slayer sighed shortly, shook his head, and extended a hand.
"Here."
Grabbing it, we climbed the raging rapids' bank. Pipi tilted her head.
"Who? Who? Who?"
"A guide, for now... So, what's the plan? Crimson Range? Why there? Witches?"
Cross the Crimson Range, and you'd enter the Republic without border checks.
"Not the destination—a route. Can't use normal roads, as you see."
As if to prove seeing is believing, the Goblin Slayer pointed his gauntleted thumb at <Landkeep>'s skies. Chills raced down my spine.
Crows.
Countless crows... circling ominously through the rain curtain, wailing.
And that wasn't all.
At the center of their formation, a massive winged shadow... oozed creepy glow from three squirming eyes.
"What the hell is that...?"
If Bell Sidias couldn't analyze it, it wasn't black magic—something with real substance.
Aki bared fangs, growling low with tense hostility rippling from her.
"We need to move where those crow eyes can't reach. That's why the Crimson Range route."
"Mountain paths would be the same, no?"
"Who said normal mountain paths? Tunnels."
"What tunnels?"
"Ones dug by goblins or rat-spiders. I'm the expert. Follow."
As if it was my choice, the Goblin Slayer strode toward the horizon-filling crimson waves of the range.
Gazing between his back and the crow flock wailing over <Landkeep>...
'The Witch Association hunting me must tie to the Black Church.'
I could ignore and rush my journey, but then no city or village would shelter me. I'd face ambushes like today's forever.
'So, follow for now...'
Hear from the witches about this and my hunters—might find answers.
And didn't Water Dragon Yeriserika advise the same? Seek the little ghost.
'Journey's off to an ominous start from day one...'
Leaving the crows' cries behind, I scratched my rain-soaked head and followed the Goblin Slayer.
We marched through the night.
Crossing rain-soaked meadows knee-high in wilted grass, through dense fir forests wafting resinous scents, we reached the foothills as rain ceased and moonlight poured.
The Goblin Slayer instantly spotted a brush-hidden tunnel from beast droppings, tracks, and traces.
"Tracks say about thirty inside. No problem. Through here, we'll exit to the southwest slopes."
Dragging my weary body to follow into the tunnel, I paused.
A strange doubt hit me.
I'd have brushed it off normally... No, it'd nagged since our city escape.
"Why does someone with your insane skills use such a weird moniker?"
"Weird moniker?"
"Goblin Slayer."
"So?"
"Why use that?"
Pure curiosity tilted my head. The Goblin Slayer stiffened. Helmet hid his face, of course.
"Wanna guess?"
"Ah, got it. For laughs?"
"Why think that?"
"Goblins are bottom-tier monsters—Alliance barely sees casualties. Newbies get the pest extermination quests. But 'Slayer'?"
Slayer titles were for hunting mighty foes.
Dragon Slayer Arthur Brius, who slew five wyverns blaspheming divinity five centuries ago; Demon Slayer Kassel Linkan, hero of the upheaval three centuries back...
Fride once said funny nicknames stick in memory—naming Tureina 'Ash Witch.' Made me a bit sad.
"For disarming foes with laughs, dormouse slayer or shrew slayer fits better. Goblin Slayer feels half-assed."
Curiosity prompted again.
No intent to mock—genuine question. But his voice floated oddly.
"I'm the Goblin Slayer, goblin—"
"—Wemouse, wemouse, wemouse."
"—exterminator, proud of—"
"—Shwew, shwew, shwew."
"So it's not a derogatory—"
"—Spla-tch, Wae-mch!"
Pipi buzzed his face the moment he spoke, worst timing.
Worse, Aki mimicking cracked me up—I stifled a chuckle. How to hold it?
Amid the antics, he trembled, lost composure in a surge. His voice turned startlingly clear.
"D-don't laugh! What's so funny?"
Then, hurling off the helmet he'd never removed even in that fog battle.
"You have no idea the hell I went through tracking you for ten days—no thanks, just mocking me?"
In that instant, my vast world of solitude shattered root and stem.
In that instant, I heard my broken soul's second hand tick, shivers racing my body.
In that instant, my heart—frozen dead since waking from long sleep—stirred quietly, leaving footprints.
'Hallucination...?'
Under moonlight, in summer's humid warmth, sweat-slick silver hair gleamed faintly.
Beneath, golden-flecked eyes blended impish mischief with sun-like pure warmth.
Three centuries ago, all were drawn to those sincere, kind eyes. Even Archmage Lin fell for that purity overwhelming with happiness.
'He's dead. Definitely—Josuhar said so.'
Echoes answered not. A face never forgotten in life.
'You' I'd never forgotten for a second.
So why was I calling the name of 'you'—impossible in this era?
"Rista...?"