Chapter 2: A Storm Was Coming, or So It Was Told

Shion’s proposal to return to the village met with no opposition. Being inside a forest gave Renya no way to keep track of time, but he was informed by Shion that further investigation would result in the sun setting on them before they got out. Goblins, who were nocturnal, would then pose a very dangerous threat to those who encounter them unprepared. While Renya was surprised to hear that goblins were nocturnal, Shion claimed it was common sense. In fact, all creatures and beasts referred to as monsters were nocturnal.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean they don’t come out during the day, too,” said Shion. They had returned to the village and were digging through their belongings in their empty-house-turned-headquarters. “Digging” was fairly literal, because there were six people’s worth of stuff to go through. When they’d first reached the village, the villagers noticed that a few people were missing and inquired about it. Shion told them they got split up in the forest and had no idea where the others were.

“There’s no way I could have said that they attacked us, so we beat them up and ditched them in the forest.”

“Is that what you’re going to tell the guild, as well?”

“No,” answered Shion, “we can’t lie to the guild. I’ll tell them the truth.”

“I hope they won’t consider me a criminal.”

Even in this world, the concept of “murder” likely existed, and that worried Renya. Of course, it was not being a criminal that worried him. It was the sheer annoyance of being considered one and detained. His concern was soon dispelled by Shion, though.

“Don’t worry. Ro and I will be your witnesses. When there’s trouble during the completion of a mission, the testimony of others who were at the scene carries the most weight as evidence.”

“People like them are known to behave badly on a regular basis. As long as you explain yourself properly, they’ll let you go.”

Renya grimaced as he mindlessly ran his hands through a bag of belongings. Although Shion declared she would speak on his behalf, judging from her words, he was still going to be detained to a degree. That was discouraging.

“But man, these guys seriously don’t carry any weapons, do they?”

“Indeed. There’s nothing useful. Nobody’s going to wear their clothes anymore, either. I say we just burn it all.”

The two of them proceeded to actually start a fire in the nearby fireplace. They then began flinging in item after item. Everything they considered unnecessary met a fiery end. The sheer indifference they displayed shocked Renya, who quietly put his hands together and whispered a prayer. After all, that was not how you treated the belongings of anyone who might still be alive. As he gazed at the fire that mercilessly consumed the graying remains of discarded luggage, he ventured a question.

“Were you looking for anything in particular?”

“Money and goods. Anything valuable, really. Also, I was hoping there’d be some sort of weapon for you.”

Renya shuddered after hearing basically what a burglar would say after ransacking somebody’s home. It was a little scary. In terms of weapons, though, he was technically holding one. He motioned toward his bamboo sword, but was met with a shake of the head from Shion.

“I can see that it means something special to you, but you should really use something with an actual blade.”

Apparently determined to not make the same mistake as her ex-team members, Shion skirted any mention of “dinky” and “little stick.” Though she avoided the risk of flipping his switch, she made her meaning clear: that thing was not fit for battle.

“Being limited to only thrusts would limit your options in a fight, right?” suggested Shion.

“Judging from how he fought, that might not even matter very much,” mentioned Rona.

Shion, however, shook her head. “Even if thrusts alone are enough, he can’t go wrong with having the ability to slash, too. It’ll only make things easier. He should definitely change his weapon.”

“That’s certainly one way to look at it.”

“I think we have no choice. I’ll have to give him my back up weapon.”

“Erm, well… Since he’s a Wanderer, I suppose it’s fine.”

Rona sounded a little hesitant, but Shion paid her no mind. She grabbed a long sword from her belongings and handed it to Renya, who pulled it from its sheath and held it horizontally at eye-level in his right hand. He stared straight down the edge of the blade. After a while, he returned it to its sheath in the same practiced motion.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking it’s a good sword. That’s all,” said Renya in a flat voice. The truth was that he was very unsatisfied with the quality of the long sword. The blade was made purely for functionality and was aesthetically unremarkable. That was fine. However, to his eyes, the iron used to craft it was extremely crude. It was not the kind of sword he would trust with his life. The edge was not impressive either, being honed just barely enough to be considered sharp. Whether or not it could actually cut properly was entirely up in the air.

A tidbit sprung up in Renya’s mind: medieval weapons were meant to be slammed against armor made of metal plates. The process was not so much cutting as it was crushing. In all likelihood, the level of technology in this world was similar, and therefore, their weapons were similarly medieval in design.

Contrary to the blade, the hilt was actually an impressive piece of artisanry. Needless ornamentation on the grip only worsened the sword’s handling, so it was wrapped by nothing more than woven strips of tanned hide. The guard, however, consisted of an intricately-linked pattern of dragons, made in gold and silver. Two dragons met at the center, their forms distorted into an emblem of some sort that was engraved into the hilt.

“Damn, this hilt. This is worth a pretty penny.”

“I see that you won’t be fooled. The hilt is an heirloom, but the blade has been broken and reforged many times,” said a slightly disappointed Shion.

Despite his misgivings about the sword’s quality, refusing to use it would be rude, especially when someone went out of their way to lend it to him. He returned his bamboo sword to his inventory.

“Oh? You have a voidbox? I wish we had one.”

“Indeed. That alone is enough to net you an unending stream of missions for moving cargo.”

Words of admiration escaped the pair as they watched the bamboo sword vanish into thin air. The holder of the article in question, however, raised one clueless eyebrow. Shion proceeded to explain.

“That weapon just disappeared when you put it away, right? When people can do that, we say they have a voidbox. Very few people have access to them.”

“I’ve heard that the number of items they can put away is fairly limited, but everything becomes weightless. I certainly wish I could do that.”

Renya glanced at all the luggage on the floor. Originally, they probably intended to keep up their investigation until the next scheduled departure of the horse wagon. It was only two days, but two days’ worth of luggage was still a pretty big pile. From what he could see, it was mostly food, water, medicine, and small tools for tending to their equipment. Presumably, they also had changes of clothes somewhere, as well. For people like them who had to do a lot of traveling, the notion of being able to walk around without carrying everything on them was understandably very tantalizing.

“When you head back, how about you throw all your stuff in my, uh, voidbox, too?”

“That’d be a big help. The ride would cost us less, too.”

Apparently, the cost for riding the horse wagon depended not only on the number of people but also the weight of their luggage. According to Rona, they did not go as far as putting everything on a scale, but the driver would look the riders over and decide on a price based on their equipment and belongings.

“Leave it to me, then. Well, I guess that comes after safely finishing this investigation.”

“That’s right. Even if we’re only up against goblins, it pays to be careful.”

“Not to mention we’re in unfamiliar territory.”

Shion then mentioned that while they called it an investigation, they obviously had no map of the forest. Therefore, what they were going to do was basically walk around randomly in the forest, and if they ran into a goblin horde, they won. The other possibility was to find a couple of goblins that were looking for food and tail them until they found their base.

Renya thought that there was a glaring issue with this plan: even if they found the base, they had no map. How did they intend to report the location of the goblins in the forest? He was about to address this issue when he felt a chill run down his spine. With a shiver, he brought his right hand up to the back of his neck, massaging the source of the sensation, and stepped toward the window.

This world did, in fact, have the technology to produce glass. While the one in the window had an uneven surface that made it less transparent than the glass Renya remembered, it was clear enough to see through. Peering outside, he found that night was falling, and the suns had disappeared from the reddened sky. The house they stayed in was on the outskirts of the village, so their view consisted of a chest-high length of wooden fence that protected the village, along with the dark silhouette of the forest a short distance away. From where he stood, even when he focused his sight, he could see nothing in the murky shadows of the trees.

His instincts, however, were on full alert. Somehow, he knew there was something in that forest.

“Renya? What’s wrong?”

Noticing the grim look on his face, Shion glanced at him and inquired.

“I don’t know. But something’s there. In that forest.”

She came beside him and looked out the window. Then, she turned back with a perplexed expression and asked, “Is this some sort of special Wanderer ability?”

He hesitated for a moment before he answered with a shake of his head.

“No, I don’t think so… Not an ability.”

“Instincts, then?”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty confident they’re right.”

That god of a girl might have purged the memories in his head, but the ones in his body seemed to have remained. He should trust what his body was telling him. He was sure of it.

“I don’t see anything, much less feel anything,” said Shion, “but if you’re sure about this, then it’s probably worth taking a look. Ro, can you do it?” She looked at her friend.

“Certainly,” answered Rona, who nodded and clasped her hands before her chest. The motion had the effect of pushing up her already-impressive breasts, which now demanded that they be noticed.

Renya shook his head, evidently deciding that this was not the time to be thinking about such things. Instead, he focused his attention on Rona and the string of words that left her lips.

“O holy one who guides my faith, I beseech you, show me those who would disturb our peace.”

A wave of power expanded from Rona’s clasped hands and washed over Renya’s body. It felt like the sonar of a submarine, quickly spreading outwards before returning at the same speed and gathering back into her hands. When the wave vanished, Rona looked up at him.

“There is indeed something hostile in the forest. Many somethings, actually. More than fifty… I can’t tell exactly. At this rate, there are probably even more outside the scannable area…”

“…What just happened?”

Rona’s explanation told Renya absolutely nothing about what she just did.

“I just used gracecraft. It’s the ability that priests who serve God have access to. Specifically, that one’s called ‘Scan.’ It lets the user know if there are any hostile beings within the area of effect. But… more than fifty? What could possibly be…”

“There’s only one thing that can create a horde this big in the Miasmal Forest.”

“…A horde of goblins with a commander. Not good.”

Shion’s words reminded Renya of the Help Function he saw before returning to the village. It mentioned the occasional birth of goblins with superior ability that go on to form large hordes.

“Okay, Ro, first things first. Go to the village chief’s place right away. Tell them to hide the women and children, and get every able-bodied man ready to fight. We need to do this fast.”

“Understood.”

She was out the door before she finished. After seeing that she had left, Shion turned to Renya.

“It seems like we’re on a streak of bad luck, but can I ask you to help?”

Her tone was pressing. He could tell that the situation was dire.

“You think they’ll attack?”

She nodded immediately.

“There’s more than fifty of them. They’re not here to visit. Especially not with a commander.”

“How do we match up?”

“The village has about fifty people. Out of those, maybe ten of them are men who are young enough to fight. With us included, it’s thirteen against more than fifty. Numerically, the odds are overwhelmingly in their favor. On top of that, the men of this village aren’t trained to fight. They can maybe handle a one-on-one, but they’ll barely be able to defend themselves against two.”

“And if we lose?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” Shion grimaced. “The whole village will be at mercy of their jaws. To them, even dead people are food. The young girls — me included — will either be killed, or wish we’d been.”

“Damn, that sounds hot. Too hot for cable. The censors are going to have a field day with the number of babies being made.”

Renya’s wisecrack was met with a muted response. That was to be expected. Censors and cable probably did not exist in this world. Despite that, Shion seemed to have caught the gist of what he meant and shot him a look of pure revulsion.

“Please don’t. If that was a joke, it wasn’t funny.”

“You think so? Whatever. Who cares, anyway? Whatever happens, happens, and you can think about it after.”

“Is it just me, or… do you sound a little weird? Wait…”

Shion took a closer look at his face before drawing back in shock.

“Why are you… smiling?”

Slightly puzzled by her question, it was not until he brought his hand to his mouth that he realized the corners of his lips were turned up. Though he was unaware, he did indeed appear to have been smiling. It was not a good smile, either.

“Why? Why, huh. Good question. If I had to say…” he said before pausing. A moment passed. Then, he continued.

“When the odds are against you in a fight… don’t you think it’s more fun?”

***

The onslaught began at nightfall.

Dim forms, small and grotesque, spilled forth from the shadowy forest. Their red eyes, reflecting what little light remained outside, glowed sharply in the darkness. Renya finally understood why Rona saw at least fifty of them, but she could not tell how many more. There were so many of them; it was not worth counting.

On the settlers’ side, multiple fires had been lit around the protective fence to ensure they could see. Led by Shion and Rona, the men of the village stood waiting with axes and bows in hand. The veil of night favored not man but monster. Once the fighting began, Rona would provide some amount of light through an illumination grace, but it was unlikely she could cover the whole battlefield. Furthermore, while the men were armed, their hands held no weapons. Their bows did little more than hunt, and their axes carved wood, not flesh. Nothing was made for battle. Worse still, the men themselves had little more than the raw strength of youth. Ill-prepared and untrained, they were complete amateurs. Those twelve amateurs and Shion’s three-man party comprised the entirety of the defending force. They were all that stood between the goblins and remaining villagers — over forty women, children, and elderly.

The enemy was so overwhelmingly powerful that this was, in all honesty, no battle. This was a slaughter. It was the kind of situation where the only discussion to be had should be how to minimize losses while running away. Unless, of course, there was nowhere to run. The settlers’ village, by virtue of its name, was located in a remote area. Normally, a few soldiers would be posted here for protection, but this village was unfortunate enough to be so new that soldiers had yet to be stationed. The closest town was two days away by wagon. With women and children on board, they had no chance. Even if they did reach the town by some miracle, a good half of the villagers would definitely have become prey for the pursuing goblins by then.

“Damn, I sure feel like running away,” said Renya in the blandest, most unconvincing tone. He held the long sword he borrowed in his right hand, its blade resting on his shoulder. An ax he found somewhere dangled from his left hand. As the massive horde of goblins continued to emerge from the forest, he looked at them and smiled. It was an easy smile, calm and composed and free of any sign of strain. The same could not be said for his fellow defenders, Shion included, whose pale faces were stiff with tension.

“Renya, are you used to being in this kind of situation?”

Her voice was strained.

“Mmm, I’m not really sure, to be honest. I mean, there’s the whole memory wipe thing, too. But still, it’s sort of… you know how sometimes you just get this feeling that everything will be fine? Something like that.”

Renya, on the other hand, could not have sounded more nonchalant.

“R-Renya, you seem rather confident,” said Rona.

“Nah,” replied Renya, “I’m not confident. But it looks like the worst I’ll have to worry about is dying, so yeah.” He refrained from mentioning the fact that it would not be his first death. He doubted it would make any sense, anyway. There was no point in confusing the two of them. “More importantly, aren’t they within range for the bows?”

“Hmm… Those who have bows, start shooting!”

At Shion’s command, four of the villagers began firing off their arrows. Despite their pitiful numbers, their hunting experience seemed to have paid off in arm strength and their arrows pierced through the goblins running at the head of the pack. Their effect, however, was trivial; it was little more than a drop of water thrown into a blazing bonfire.

“All right. If we live through this, I’ll see you later. I’m charging in. Feel free to keep shooting the arrows.”

“What?!”

A simultaneous cry of alarm arose from Shion and Rona. Renya shot them a single glance before suddenly dashing off, sword and ax hanging loosely from his hands. His reckless charge earned him some incredulous shouts from the villagers as well, but he paid it no mind. After all, this whole defense they were putting up was reckless to begin with. There were simply too many goblins, and too few of them. Since everything seemed like a bad idea anyway, he figured his best choice was to follow his gut and go with his most adept method of fighting. With that said, it still looked like suicide, especially to those watching him run into a horde of goblins by himself.

The goblins were armed with crude wooden spears and shoddy-looking blades. The ones at the front of the pack noticed the incoming Renya and pointed their spears in his direction. Right when they thrust, he lowered his body and slid under the protruding points. As he evaded the spears, he slid straight into a goblin and kicked its legs out from under it. Before it could get back up, he swung his sword and ax into the goblins at his sides.

When engaging a large number of opponents in battle, how to breach the frontal wall of spears is always a difficult question. However, as soon as that happens, close quarters combat ensues, during which the spear is incredibly ineffective. In addition, a large crowd offers little space to swing a spear around, and users are often forced to drop it in favor of a different weapon such as an ax or sword.

The goblin on the ground tried to get up. Before it could manage, Renya stomped down hard on it. The rest of the goblins rushed to drop their spears and grab other weapons, which allowed Renya to begin swinging his ax madly, sending its durable head crashing down into much less durable ones. He felt the crack of something hard and saw the jet of black-red liquid. As he bathed himself in a whirling storm of mangled matter, once goblin but no more, he realized something.

“Damn. I love fighting.”

He could not stop the corners of his lips from curling upward. His eyes, not even checking the damage on his latest victim, were already searching for his next target. A radiant ball of white light shot up into the sky. It occurred to him that Rona must have used an illumination grace. That meant the villagers had joined the fray. He certainly never expected his lone charge to halt the advance of the entire goblin horde. There were going to be casualties. Therefore, he did the only thing he could.

He killed.

Faster. Fiercer. He killed and killed.

A swing of his long sword repelled the dull thrust of a rusty blade. His ax bit into an undefended torso, burying itself halfway in. He tried pulling on it. It did not budge. No matter. He swung his ax again. It slammed into another foe, dead body in tow. Goblins fell left and right, some shoved aside by him, others stumbling during a clumsy escape. His foot came down on them all. He stomped mercilessly, driving the anvil of his heel into arms, guts, and heads.

A desperate wail. An ax to the jaw. A hand outstretched. A sword through the arm.

Time after time, glancing blows found their mark on him. He ignored those, choosing to deflect only attacks that posed a real threat. They would strike. He would dodge. And his ax would roar.

He thrust out his long sword. The blade was gone. It had snapped at some point. He spun it in his hand, reversing his grip. A short piece of metal, more scrap than sword, remained on the hilt. He rammed it into a goblin and dug it back out — if it could not cut, it could still gouge. Soon, the broken blade dulled further. He threw the lonely hilt back into his inventory and began to swing his ax with both hands.

As he hewed through body after body, the ax blade began to dull as well. No matter how sturdy its head was, it could hardly withstand his ruthless handling.

The handle, however, held strong. Perhaps it was made with felling tough trees in mind. Whatever the reason, it was enough. His weapon did not need to be sharp. It only needed to be harder than the next thing he bashed. He whaled into his target with all his strength, slamming it with his slab of metal. Be it a wooden shield or rough leather armor, a parrying weapon or blocking arm, none of it mattered. They would all shatter eventually. He only needed to keep hitting. Then, only the tender flesh would remain. And not for long, at that.

Some time later, he realized his leather armor was nearly in tatters, having accumulated graze after graze. Finding it to be little more than an annoyance, he ripped it off and dropped it on the ground. Somewhere in his mind, he acknowledged that he just technically threw away a gift from God. Then, he decided such thoughts were pointless in the heat of battle and quickly discarded them. He felt faint sensations of pain all over his now-unguarded body. He did not mind. If anything, the stinging served to anchor his sanity. They were the only things keeping him from losing his mind.

This is… just too much fun!

It was as if a madness was consuming his mind. Through the ax handle in his hands, he felt the pleasure of crushing flesh. The sound of shattering bones was music to his ears. Enveloped from head to toe in the faint warmth of recently-spilled blood, he felt good. He sought more.

Who’s next?

He looked at the monsters and their ugly faces. It thrilled him to see them contorted in fear. It amused him to see them weep and wail for help. They looked for a way out. Then, realizing that there was no escape, a desperate resolve befell their gaze as they lashed out, seeking to land at least one good strike. He saw that, too. And he loved it.

Where blades had grazed him, the wounds throbbed with pain. Such bliss.

Where foes had struck him, his nerves went numb with shock. More still.

What next?

What sensations? What sights? What pleasures?

What more do you have for me?

After smashing through more goblins than he could count, the handle of his ax finally snapped. He drove the jagged broken end into the face of a nearby monster and discarded his final weapon. Seeing that he was unarmed, his foes rushed at him in droves, their chance finally at hand. Unflustered, he grabbed the wrist of a goblin who brandished a weapon and smashed its elbow inward to break it. He then took its weapon and buried it into the head of another goblin. Untended and left to rust for who knows how long, the weapon shattered after one single strike. He was not bothered, already moving to rob another goblin of its weapon and continue his slaughter.

“What’s going on, you little creeps? You think this is enough?” he yelled menacingly with his arms spread wide. A groan came from a goblin on the ground, fallen but not dead. He crushed its head with his foot.

“Because it’s not! Not enough close! I need more! Come on, your enemy’s standing right here! You’d better come kill me fast, or I’m going to kill you first! Give me all you’ve got, you damn creeps!”

Renya’s challenge was met by a single goblin who stepped out in front of him. It was large, almost comparable with him in height. Separated from its fellow goblins in both stature and armament — the long sword it held and chainmail it wore were clearly a grade up from the others — it took only one look to realize that this goblin was special. Somewhere in his battle-crazed mind remained enough sanity for him to recall what Shion had said about goblin commanders. This big one must have been it.

“That’s the goblin leader! You can’t fight it unarmed! Run!”

He heard a voice. It sounded so distant. So woefully distant that it was too easy to ignore. He knew it was probably a warning from Shion. Still, ignore it he did. He was in the middle of a battle and the enemy was in front of his eyes. As long as those facts remained true, weapon or not, he had no intention of running.

The countless wounds all over his body did little to hamper his charge. The speed of his steps, however, was matched by the speed of the goblin leader’s strike, who swung his long sword at Renya. He had to admit it was a good deal faster than the other goblins he had fought. Faster, though, was not necessarily enough.

With the full momentum of his dash behind him, he threw out a kick with his left leg. The weightier frame of the goblin leader ultimately kept it from being lifted into the air, but the kick caused it to freeze for a moment. Shifting his weight to his outstretched leg, he closed the gap on his opponent and, with the palm of his right hand, struck the sword that was paused in mid-swing on the end of its hilt. That one hit was enough to cause the sword to fly out of the goblin leader’s grip. Next, in one fluid motion so as not to lose speed, he rammed the leader with his right shoulder. Despite their similar size, the tackle knocked the goblin leader to the ground. As it struggled to get up, he quickly pounced on it, straddling its body with his legs and closing his hands around its throat.

He did not strangle it. That would require him to remain stationary, which would open him up to being attacked by other goblins. Plus, strangling was softcore. Instead, in the span of one short breath, he focused all his strength into his hands and pressed down.

The goblin leader’s neck snapped.

He had barely felt the snap as a dull sensation in his palms before leaping off the body and dashing to the long sword it was using. He picked it up and felt its weight in his hand. The blade was on the thicker side. He had no idea where it came from, but considering it managed to stay in one piece despite being used by the goblin leader, whose understanding of swordsmanship probably amounted to “swing and swing harder,” it was probably reasonably well-made.

“Well, then, looks like I’ve found myself a weapon again.”

Renya grinned at the goblins that surrounded him. Their expressions noticeably stiffened.

“I think it’s time for round two. What do you say?”

Failing to defeat him with their numbers and having just witnessed their leader killed in one fell swoop, the goblins were left powerless against him. They let out a desperate wail as Renya took step after casual step toward them, approaching with all the nonchalance of a morning walk. In that moment, the battlefield was no more. All that remained was the bloody carnage of a slaughterhouse.