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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Goblins, Demons, Children (2)
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It was too soon to get worked up. Kadim carefully scanned the interior of the hut. His first priority was checking if any other monsters lingered.
The thick air revealed the hazy dust illuminated by the twilight seeping through cracks in the walls. Cracked pottery and dried fruits lay scattered across the floor. There were no cries, just the musty smell unique to such hovels. Fortunately, no signs of other monsters lurking about.
But it wasn't completely devoid of presence.
"Mmgh... mmph, mmgh... "
Under the table cowered a girl about seven or eight years old. Her limbs were bound, her mouth gagged with a rag.
A deep furrow formed between the barbarian's brows.
"They tied up the kid like this and just ran off, huh..."
It was absurd. Unless they'd offered the child to the goblins as a sacrifice—which didn't seem the case—this scene made no sense.
Something complicated was clearly at play, though he had no desire to understand it. Kadim decided to free the girl and hear her out.
The ropes were tied so tightly that her arms were chafed raw. The rag was soaked with saliva and snot. Squatting down to meet her eye level, Kadim asked,
"I've got a question. Where'd your parents go?"
"Hic, snff... waaah, M-Mommy, waaaah..."
Instead of answering, the girl burst into tears and crawled into the corner. Kadim slowly stood and approached again.
"Hey, just answer me, and I won't hurt you. Stop crying..."
"Waaah, Mooom, M-Mommy, hic, eek, waaaah..."
Freeing her meant nothing. To the child, he was just a terrifying barbarian. Kadim muttered a curse under his breath and clicked his tongue.
"...Damn it."
The problem resolved itself once the merchant arrived.
Duncan entered the hut late, peeking around nervously, terrified of monsters or demons. He paled at the sight of the goblin with its head split open but comforted himself that it was better than facing a live one.
Kadim instructed him to calm the girl. Duncan nodded solemnly.
Pulling out a licorice root and popping it into her mouth, he shook a little tin rattle vigorously.
"Rattle-rattle, oh dear, little miss! If you keep crying like that, the stream by the village will overflow! Look here—tears stop! Right, rattle-rattle!"
"Hic, huff, huuu..."
She still looked anxious, but the sweet taste lingering in her mouth and the merchant's silver tongue finally quieted her sobs. Kadim glanced sidelong.
"You've got a knack for it. Were you a nursemaid before becoming a merchant?"
Duncan faltered at the straightforward question.
"Ah, ahaha... No, sir. It's just that my daughter back home is about her age..."
Kadim nodded indifferently, as if it were none of his concern. Now it was time to hear the girl's story.
"Hey, kiddo. What happened? Where'd your parents go, and who tied you up and left you there?"
"Mommy and Daddy. Sob, Mommy and Daddy abandoned me..."
"..."
"Wh-What?!"
Duncan gawked at the unexpected tale, eyes bulging like a rabbit's. Kadim narrowed his eyes—just then, the hut's door burst open.
Several people stood there: a bearded man clutching a handaxe, a ragged woman, and a gaggle of children who looked like their kids.
The woman shouted in agitation.
"Lenny! Baby! Baby!!"
"Damn it! Quiet down! There might still be goblins inside..."
The man tried to restrain her, but it was futile. She shook off his hand and rushed to the girl.
"Lenny! Are you okay, Lenny? Oh my god, baby..."
"M-Mommy..."
The woman hugged her tightly. But even in her mother's arms, the girl showed no relief. As the woman wept and murmured prayers of thanks, the child trembled, her small shoulders shaking with confusion.
Meanwhile, the handaxe-wielding man flinched at the sight of the hulking, fierce-looking barbarian. He flinched again upon spotting the half-cleaved goblin head.
Forcing down his tension, the man asked,
"D-Did you... do this?"
"No, my sword did."
The man stared blankly, dumbfounded. Kadim strode to the table, slammed his blade into the plank floor, and perched on a relatively small chair.
"I'd like to hear what happened. Were you possessed by a demon and offering your child as sacrifice?"
The wooden chair creaked in protest, and everyone inside and outside the hut swallowed hard in unison.
*
The woman took all the children outside. The man's hut filled with the village elders.
Under flickering candlelight sat pea stew and hard bread. They offered the meager supper and spilled their tale to the barbarian and merchant.
"This place was once crawling with goblins. The soil where we lived before wore out, so we burned it and moved here. Seeing the flames, most nearby goblins fled with tails between their legs."
"...But then something strange happened. Lately, the remaining goblins started attacking us. They were so ferocious, injuries piled up. This one got his bone broken by a club, and that one nearly went bald after having his scalp torn."
The man pointed to a young man with a splint on his arm and a middle-aged one draped in tattered cloth. Neither hid their gloom.
"Naturally, we didn't just sit idle. We gathered the village men to exterminate the goblins. But then... we saw 'it' with them."
Protruding eyes, saw-like teeth, ears sharper than a goblin's. Skin a deep crimson. Arms gaunt, but claws and hands grotesquely oversized.
An eerie aura, as if it weren't of this world.
Most shocking: it spoke human tongue.
—Humans... I see?
Its chilling voice sapped the will to fight. The villagers' faces twisted at the memory. Kadim, suspecting the culprit, remained impassive.
"How many horns on its head?"
"...Hm?"
"How many horns were on its head?"
"Uh... none. Not a single one."
"..."
To gauge a demon's strength, count its horns—the most straightforward way.
By Kadim's recollection, zero horns meant lesser demon. Each full horn upgraded it: middle, then upper tier.
He asked next about odd abilities or traits. The man said the already vicious goblins went berserk near the demon.
Not unusual. Monsters near demons or feeding on their flesh grew aggressive and stronger—tainted by demonic energy, becoming fiends.
Kadim assessed from the testimony.
"Lesser tier. No distinguishing traits from others, so pureblood type. ...Shouldn't be too tough."
The man hesitated, glancing at Kadim. The other villagers nodded gravely. Finally, he spoke haltingly.
"We... lacked the power to face that demon and its goblins. We barely held off their assaults, then surrendered in desperation."
"..."
"Surprisingly, the demon spared us. But it made a demand: next week, it'd come to the village. Each house must offer its most useless child as tribute. So we... tied our kids inside and fled."
The goblins hit the man's house last, sparing his youngest daughter. But others had already lost children. Deep sorrow shadowed the fathers' faces.
That's when Duncan, who'd listened silently, shot to his feet in outrage.
"What?! Are you all insane? How could you offer kids to a demon? And call yourselves parents?!"
The men and villagers bristled.
If a hulking barbarian had said it, they'd have hung their heads. But this mild-looking merchant? They shot back angrily.
"...What were we supposed to do? We're free folk beyond the lord's reach—no protection, no holy knights. Fight and die like dogs?!"
"Hah, must you fight? You're slash-and-burn folk—abandon the huts and flee elsewhere!"
"We can't! Good spots like this are rare, and we've sown the fields! Last harvest was poor—if we abandon this crop, we're as good as starved!"
"Still, how could you sacrifice a girl not even ten?!"
"Damn it, who wants to? The demon said it! Offer your most useless kid!!"
"Hell, who'd you pick? Your grown son pulling his weight? Daughter betrothed and waiting to wed? Tell us—who?!"
Veins bulged as they bellowed. Fists seemed ready to fly; the mood turned ugly.
Duncan, late to sense the tension, floundered. Shouts filled the hut, shadows warping wildly in the candlelight.
Bam—!
The clamor ended with a heavy thud.
The table splintered instantly under Kadim's fist. Food and candle spilled everywhere. He eyed the overturned candlestick dryly, stomping out the flame before it caught the planks.
Dead silence, breaths held. Terrified eyes wandered the dark. Some fretted their heartbeats might be heard; others squeezed eyes shut, swallowing dryly to stifle sneezes.
Kadim surveyed the fear-stricken faces. He had no interest in judging them. He wasn't in a position to morally condemn anyone.
He just wanted quiet. And one thing only.
"Where's the demon now?"
A nearby villager managed to answer.
"...In a cave deep in the forest. All the goblins nest there too."
"Guide me. We'll eat after."
Villagers' eyes widened. Hope and fear swirled in their gazes.
"R-Right now? Facing a demon in this dark—too risky, no? Wait for dawn..."
Kadim tilted his head as if hearing nonsense.
"If you want the corpse fresh, better hurry."
The subject was omitted, but the meaning clear. Villagers scrambled for torches, ready to guide him.
But the hut's owner seemed lukewarm.
He fretted a different issue, eyeing the wrecked table and barbarian. Hesitating, he approached and blurted,
"Th-That said, we have nothing to pay you with. As you see, the whole village scrapes by—no money, and meals beyond supper are..."
"I'd take it if offered, but no need. I'm doing this for myself."
"Oh, really? Ha, haha! Truly grateful! Blessings on you, er... mercenary sir!"
Demon byproducts fetched good coin, even if not openly sold. He'd heard of mercenaries hunting demons like holy knights. The man stroked his beard, smirking inwardly at the greed.
The broken table stung a bit less. His own daughter was safe. A payout might've meant shared costs. Free labor? A relief.
But Kadim wasn't done.
"Instead, give me this. Only got one weapon now."
Kadim hefted the man's small handaxe. A faint crease formed on the man's brow.
"Uh, this is just for chopping brush... Not fit for demons. Another house has bigger, heavier ones—take that instead..."
Thwack—!
The handaxe whistled through the air, cutting off his words.
"...G-Gasp!"
The blade embedded beside his temple. The force half-pierced the wooden wall. A slight miss, and his skull would've split. Chills ran down his spine.
Of course, it never missed. Thousands of throws in his past life, killing with axes. A barbarian warrior's hurling skill could nail an ant at a hundred paces blindfolded.
Power faded, but instinct remained. Retrieving the axe, Kadim murmured low,
"No. This'll do perfectly."
The man's legs buckled, and he collapsed.