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1 Walls, Bones, and Ghosts
The dungeon city of Leiloa.
Adventurers came seeking the great labyrinth that spread like tendrils underground. Merchants and scholars arrived in search of dungeon-produced treasures. Traders flocked here to do business with them all. This was how the city developed directly above an underground labyrinth locally known as the dungeon.
Castle walls about twice an adult's height surrounded the city on all sides, with gates facing north, south, east, and west. Since the north gate faced the road to the main highway, stables, grooms' quarters, blacksmith workshops, and other establishments lined the area just outside.
While I waited just outside the north gate, the party I would be joining strolled up to meet me.
Hey, handyman. Noel, was it? Looking forward to working with you.
A man in well-worn iron armor approached, stroking his unshaven beard.
Hello, Rashid. The pleasure's all mine.
The big guy is Tor, the skinny one's Billy.
When the two behind Rashid waved at me, I bowed in response.
Iron Wall, Rashid's party, comprised three veteran B-Rank adventurers. Living up to their name, they were all sturdy warriors equipped with shields and armor.
That's right. A party of nothing but warriors.
Well-balanced parties weren't exactly common, but this was a bit too unbalanced. They used to have a cleric who could use healing magic, but he'd switched to another party.
But situations like this were perfect for someone like me, a guy who couldn't form a fixed party, to get good adventuring opportunities.
Jack will carry the water and food, so please hand them to him.
My partner was Jack the Skeleton. Through a series of events, he became my summoned monster. And now he aided me as a porter by basically being an inventory on legs.
Oh my, such rough treatment of my old bones . . .
Jack loaded the gear passed to him onto his pack frame. When he shouldered the towering pile, the heavy load pressed down on his bleached skeletal shoulders.
All right, let's go.
At Rashid's call, we climbed into a waiting carriage.
Bound for Yupa Village, the old horse clip-clopped along.
Since adventurers couldn't afford to own their own carriages, we had to rely on public carriage and the like. This time it was a rental carriage. Good horses and good carriages required high security deposits, so beat-up horses pulling beat-up carriages were pretty much standard for adventurers.
On the driver's bench, Rashid held the reins with Jack sitting beside him.
Jack served as a thieves deterrent. The idea was that thieves probably wouldn't bother attacking a carriage that obviously had a skeleton on board.
I rode with the remaining two members of Iron Wall in the cargo area.
Billy sat with one knee raised, wearing his dark leather armor. A longsword and a small, manageable shield lay beside him. I wasn't sure if he was just naturally quiet, but I had yet to hear his voice.
In complete contrast, Tor lay there in his scale mail, snoring thunderously. He was lying down, using his large shield as a pillow while clutching his halberd. Wasn't it a pain to sleep like that?
I glanced at the quest form I'd borrowed from Rashid.
Groups of goblins have been sighted around Yupa Village. You are requested to investigate and eliminate as required. Priority is to be given to reporting the results of your investigation. Client: Alan Sheringham
Alan Sheringham was the guildmaster; the highest authority in the Leiloa Adventurers' Guild.
Quests issued under the guildmaster's name were called Personal Guildmaster Quests. With these, a guildmaster personally designated parties by name for highly urgent matters. Those designated had no right to refuse.
Since Iron Wall had received a Personal Guildmaster Quest, they had to depart immediately. However, in anticipation of difficulties, they had wanted at least one person in a healing role. It seemed the guild had introduced me to them when they'd raised this concern.
While it was true I could use healing magic, I was only a level 9 D-Rank. It was actually my first time participating in a Personal Guildmaster Quest.
There was quite the ability gap between Iron Wall and me, so I had to make sure not to drag them down.
I tightly gripped the cross on my chest where my other partner slept, trying to hide the tension in my hands.
After half a day's ride, we arrived at Yupa Village.
The rural village was, in a word, peaceful. The pastoral landscape stretched out before us, dotted with houses scattered here and there. And some of those houses . . . were burning.
Don't tell me they're already under goblin attack?
Billy nodded in agreement.
What else could it be? Too much fire for making dinner.
Gwooooooh . . .
Meanwhile, Tor was still snoring loudly.
Tch. Tor, wake up!
Gwoh . . . Guh?!
Billy kicked away the large shield that Tor had been using as a pillow.
Halting the carriage, Rashid called out from the driver's bench.
If we get any closer, the horse will spook. We're leaving the carriage here—get ready.
He climbed down, tied the old horse to a nearby tree, and headed toward the village.
Illuminated by the flames of the burning houses, something moved in the distance. From our position, it was impossible to tell whether they were people or goblins.
I felt restless and wanted to break into a run, but the three members of Iron Wall kept to a brisk walk while checking their surroundings.
That big building. The village chief's house? There's quite a commotion going on there.
Rashid said, squinting.
I can see sommat movin' too. Probably gobs.
There are likely survivors inside the building. We must rescue them, no matter what.
Tor's polite tone contrasted sharply with his large, imposing appearance.
As we drew closer, the area around the building came into focus.
Dozens of goblins were pounding on the building with clubs and swords. Some used their fists. The building was sturdy stone, but it was only a matter of time before the goblins breached the door and windows.
We're charging straight in! Once we break through their front, form up with the building at our backs!
After Rashid barked out orders, Billy, the most agile of us, attacked first. He cut down goblin after goblin with their backs still turned to us.
Gugh?
Geggi! Gigi!
The goblins, who had finally noticed us, rushed toward Billy, but—
Havva taste o' this!
The agile fighter swung his small shield overhead and slammed it into the goblin in front of him. The goblin flew backward and knocked down its companions crowding in behind it.
Rashid and Tor dealt with the goblins coming from the side—Rashid beheading them while Tor ran them through.
I drew the mace from my waist as well, but we reached the front of the building before I had a chance to swing it.
The door was battered in several places, but through the gaps I could see it had been reinforced with dressers and other furniture. Someone had erected a barricade. Were the villagers safe inside?
All right, maintain formation and thin out their numbers.
The formation was hardly worth the name. In short, Iron Wall would hold the front line while I provided healing magic from the rear.
Um, what should I do . . . ?
Jack's voice came from behind us.
When I turned around, he was standing there looking lost.
Huh? You followed us? I thought you'd stayed with the carriage!
Jack glanced down at the pack frame he was carrying.
Thought this . . . might be needed . . .
Sir Bones, how about losing the bags and forming the vanguard?
But I'm . . . a porter . . .
I'll lend you my shortsword.
Rashid patted a blade hanging at his waist.
Jack set down his luggage in front of the door and reluctantly took the sword from Rashid. The moment he assumed an awkward fighting stance, a goblin wearing what looked like a Mohawk headdress charged straight at him.
Heeeeee!
Go Jack! You got this! Teach that little thing a lesson!
Stop treating this like it's not your problem! Why are you laughing?!
He could have been a little more appreciative of my encouraging words!
How long had we been fighting? Goblin corpses were piling up everywhere.
Jack now grappled with that Mohawk goblin after they'd both dropped their weapons. Their fight had turned into a muddy brawl.
I'd planned to focus on healing from the rear, but I hadn't cast a single healing spell yet.
The Iron Wall members were incredibly solid fighters. They kept cutting down enemies without sustaining any real injuries, seamlessly covering each other's blind spots.
But fatigue was a different story entirely. The goblins kept coming in endless waves, and exhaustion was finally beginning to show on everyone's faces. Even now, I could see fresh goblins pouring out of the forest at the village's edge. Squinting into the distance, it looked like there were some larger creatures too . . .
Hey, there are orcs mixed in with the gobs!
. . . That could be a problem. Stay sharp!
The three Iron Wall members' expressions grew serious.
For these B-Rank adventurers, both goblins and orcs were naturally weak opponents. What had Rashid concerned was something else entirely.
Goblins and orcs might look similar to humans, but they were completely different species. Without some kind of symbiotic relationship, there was no way they'd fight together cooperatively like this. If they were working as a unit, we had to assume some powerful entity was controlling both groups.
There! Behind that burning house over yonder!
Tor's voice came out as almost a scream.
Everyone turned to look toward the edge of the village at once.
There stood a blazing two-story house.
Flames had engulfed the roof, and it was only a matter of time before the structure collapsed. From behind that house emerged a massive figure watching us.
Its enormous body towered over the house itself.
On its face was an equally large nose that drooped down to reach the jaw.
In the flickering firelight, the hideous mug seemed to be grinning.
. . . ! Handyman, time to shine. Appraise it!
While everyone stared in stunned silence, Rashid shouted at the top of his lungs.
Appraisal was my profession's main strength. I snapped back to my senses and focused on the giant figure.
. . . Troll, named. Wa Du the Bloodbather!
Dammit. Why'd it hafta be named?
Billy groaned.
Something I'd read in a book about named monsters came to mind.
A monster's strength is determined by its race. While it is true that individual differences certainly exist, even those variances fall within racial boundaries. A strong slime is, in the end, merely strong for a slime. However, on exceptionally rare occasions, those that far exceed their racial limits come into being. These are named monsters. So termed because a name and epithet are displayed together on appraising the monster, where normally only its race is revealed. Rotten King Hoslo and Castle Crusher Brungo are likely familiar examples. Both caused tremendous damage, with the former being a matango and the latter an orc. Both races are near the bottom of the monster hierarchy, yet they destroyed cities and shook nations. This shows just how far beyond normal parameters named monsters can reach. On the other hand, extremely rarely, individuals like Dull Murphy have been confirmed to be clearly weaker than their base race. (Source: Rizbel's Monster Knowledge Supplement)
Looking more closely at the goblins, they seemed to be approaching us with panicked, desperate expressions. That named troll was probably controlling them through sheer terror.
Rashid shouted over the chaos.
Handyman! Do you have attack magic?!
I do, but . . . it wouldn't even one-shot an orc.
Then don't waste it on the troll. If we carelessly provoke it and draw its attention, we'll all be dead.
Whadda shame. That one's a biggun.
Billy muttered with regret.
Sunset was approaching, and a cold wind brushed our cheeks. With no end in sight to the battle and a massive enemy waiting at its end, it was impossible to keep our spirits up. At this rate . . .
Seeing the sun drop on the horizon, I steeled my resolve and called out to my companions.
I'm going to try something once the sun sets!
What kind of something? Will it work?
Rashid asked while driving his sword into an orc's neck.
It'll probably just buy us some time, but . . .
Once the sun had completely disappeared, I tapped the cross on my chest.
Lucy, it's nighttime. Come on out.
The cross trembled, and a faintly glowing white substance like tendrils of smoke began rising from it.
Whoa, what the hell?!
Billy recoiled in surprise.
The smoke above our heads gradually took human form. It became an adorable little girl with waist-length hair.
But the figure was faintly translucent.
A-A ghost?
Tor's voice came out high-pitched.
That's Lucy the Ghost. She's my other partner. I don't understand how it works, but she sleeps inside the cross during the day.
Wow, there are so many of them!
The ghost observed casually as she looked down at the goblin horde.
Lucy, do that thing of yours, if you will. Everyone cover your ears!
Okie dokie!
Lucy nodded obediently, then made a gesture like she was taking a deep breath.
Seeing me cover my ears, the three Iron Wall members hurriedly covered theirs as well. Jack was still grappling with the Mohawk goblin and didn't have the luxury of covering his ears, but he was sure to be fine. Probably.
. . . Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!
Lamentation, a skill unique to ghosts.
Anyone who heard it experienced fear and panic. It's useless against unshakeable opponents, but devastatingly effective against cowards. The wide area of effect was another advantage.
We were surrounded by cowardly goblins terrified of the troll—the perfect targets for this skill. It would surely break their will to fight. Some might even flee.
. . . Or so I thought, but the effect was far more dramatic than even that!
Gigiii!
Ge . . . ge . . . gu . . .
Vvvveeee . . .
Awawawa!!
Aheeeee! Pyeeeeh!
The chaos and panic were so intense that watching it made us anxious. Some goblins clawed at their heads in bewilderment, others covered their faces and collapsed in tears, and some began attacking their own allies. Nearly all the goblins and orcs nearby were in violent disarray.
The last curdling scream rang out from Jack. He was panicking while locked in an embrace with the Mohawk goblin. Oh, well. So much for being fine.
This is incredible . . . !
Tor muttered quietly with a dumbfounded expression.
I never expected it to be this effective.
Whatever works, right? Nice job, Lucy. This bought us time.
Rashid gave Lucy a thumbs up.
I can do anything!
The little ghost girl puffed out her chest bashfully.
Oi. Let's grab the people inside and get outta here fast.
At Billy's suggestion, Rashid stroked his unshaven beard.
Right . . . Hey! Is anyone in there?!
Should we bring the carriage over?
While we were making escape plans, the goblin horde underwent another change.
The confusion that had started among the goblins around the building spread like a wave, swallowing all the goblins and orcs it washed over. The air became filled with a tremendous uproar, alarming us. It was so loud we could barely hear each other speak.
We quickly decided on minimal preparations to get out fast and were about to start putting our plan in motion when it happened.
All sound vanished at once.
We looked at each other in silence. Everyone wore the same bewildered expression. But in the sudden quiet, none of us dared to speak.
Looking around, the goblins' faces had gone blank, utterly void of expression. Had their stress reached breaking point?
There was one creature irritated by the silence—the troll.
Vrrooooooh!!!
The troll directed a threatening roar at the goblins who had stopped fighting.
"What the hell are you doing? Fight!" its roar seemed to demand.
In response, the goblins looked up at the troll with vacant eyes.
Enraged, the troll trampled nearby goblins and sent orcs flying.
But the goblins watched even that scene with blank faces.
Perhaps dissatisfied with their lack of reaction, the troll continued its rampage.
Eventually, I saw anger beginning to kindle in those countless vacant eyes. The goblins who had been standing around in a daze and the orcs who had been crouching down were all looking at the troll—or rather, glaring at it.
Forget the earlier plan. We watch and wait. Don't move, got it?
Everyone nodded in response to Rashid's whispered instruction.
A single goblin let out a battle cry.
It was smaller than the troll's roar, but a voice filled with rage.
Then battle cries started rising from here and there. One orc leaped to attack with a roar, but the massive brute easily grabbed its head and crushed it.
And that was when the rest of them snapped. Battle cries erupted all at once in a din that far exceeded the earlier chaos.
The numerous goblins and orcs rushed toward the troll.
Even the named troll, despite its overwhelming power, began to suffer injuries under the sheer force of their numbers. Every time it swept away the goblins in front of it with its powerful arms, countless weapons dug into both its legs.
The goblins near us also headed toward the troll. Including the Mohawk who'd been in that messy fight with Jack . . . And for some reason, Jack also strode toward the monster.
Hey, Jaaack?
Caught off guard by his unexpected behavior, I foolishly called out. But my voice didn't reach skeleton comrade, who was caught up in the frenzy.
Hey, what's gotten into Sir Bones?!
Rashid was clearly flustered.
Well, he gets caught up in things easily . . .
Jack's being weird!
Lucy laughed while floating around.
He's gonna get torn apart, you know? Is that okay?
I waved my hand at the worried man.
Being torn apart isn't a problem. He's a skeleton, see. As long as he's not completely pulverized, he can piece himself back together again.
I-I see. Skeletons sure are sturdy.
Rashid sounded exasperated.
When we looked back at the troll, a scene like ants swarming an elephant was unfolding.
Every time the troll swung its arms, goblins went flying. But there were still plenty left. While the goblins could wound it, they lacked the decisive power to finish it off.
We'll hit whichever side wins. Sound good?
No one objected to his decision. It felt a bit underhanded, but considering the dire situation we'd been in just moments before, having them tear each other apart was a huge help.
Shall we evacuate the survivors while we have the chance?
Tor set down his halberd and pushed hard against the door with both hands. Unable to withstand his strength, the door creaked and strained as it shifted.
Through the gap that opened, we could hear the murmur of voices.
Who are you?!
A bearded middle-aged man shouted. We could hear the tension in his voice.
Adventurers commissioned by the Leiloa Adventurers' Guild! You can escape now! Are you the only survivors?
I-Is that true? Are we really saved?
If we move right now, yes. Answer my question.
Y-Yeah, yeah. Probably just here.
Probably?
How should I know?! I was running for my life too! I don't even know what happened to my mother who went out to the fields . . . waaah!
With that, the middle-aged man broke down in tears.
All right, all right. For now, we're moving this barricade, okay? Get the men inside to help too.
With the chaos of the goblin uprising at our backs, we removed the furniture. Inside the building, about forty people were huddled together, trembling. Some of them bore injuries.
Rashid and I went inside while Billy and Tor continued keeping watch outside.
From the building's structure, I'd thought this was the village chief's house, but it turned out to be a church. Though modest, there was an altar with a cross hanging behind it. They'd probably converted the finest building in the village.
The villagers began voicing their concerns—was it really safe? Was it okay to flee without searching for other survivors?
Rashid, who had been gauging the situation, glanced at me before raising his voice.
This man may be young, but he's a priest! He will guide you all! Come now, Father! Say something!
I caught on immediately. I swallowed hard and held the cross on my chest so it was visible. Then I spoke as loudly yet gently as possible.
Indeed, I am a priest. First, allow me to prove it . . . Oh pure flow of light . . . with thy radiance heal these wounds . . . Heal!
Warm light descended upon a crying, injured boy nearby. Heal didn't actually require an incantation, but in this situation, a little priestly theatrics seemed necessary.
The boy's pain vanished instantly, and he turned toward us with a bewildered look.
It's magic!
Is he really a priest?
To think there are such young priests!
The villagers voiced their amazement one after another. Perfect. This was exactly the reaction I'd hoped for.
Still uncomfortable about being called Father, I raised my voice to address them again.
Right now, the goblins that attacked your village are fighting among themselves. If we miss this chance, we may never get another opportunity to escape. I know you're all worried—about your families, your friends, your fields. But none of those things matter if you're not alive to protect them.
The villagers remained silent, but I sensed no objection from them. Their faces showed resignation mixed with quiet determination.
Sensing the shift in mood, Rashid stepped forward and took charge.
We’re heading for the highway! Children and the elderly are to go first with their escorts!
The moment we stepped outside, we were plunged into darkness. Only the light from the still-burning houses illuminated the battle between the troll and its enemies.
Eek!
An old woman spotted the troll and shuddered in terror.
No need to look at that. It's not interested in us.
Even as he said this, Rashid couldn't help but glance over to check on the troll himself.
The troll was dragging one leg behind it. Clearly, it had taken serious damage to its lower body. Meanwhile, the goblin numbers had visibly dwindled.
As one, the villagers moved toward the highway. Rashid and I took point while Billy and Tor spread out to our left and right flanks. Lucy covered us from above.
Sorry about using you like that.
Rashid whispered beside me.
It's fine; it wasn't a lie . . . Might as well put a handyman to good use.
Haha, true enough.
Due to certain circumstances, I was sensitive about my profession as a priest. Rashid had probably picked up on this.
With no goblins attacking us along the way, we safely reached the village outskirts where we'd left the carriage.
The horse . . . didn't run away. Thank goodness.
Though somewhat agitated, the old horse remained tethered without causing a fuss. Perhaps its age had worked in our favor.
Billy! Ride back to Leiloa and request a rescue team!
Got it!
Without missing a beat, Billy pulled a saddle from under the driver's bench and fitted it onto the old horse. After untying the reins and nimbly mounting up, he gripped them tight and shouted.
I'll be back by morning! Don't do anything reckless!
That goes for you too!
We're counting on you!
The Iron Wall members exchanged quick words, each praying for the others' safety.
Kicking up dirt, the old horse turned around and galloped toward Leiloa.
We gathered the villagers around the carriage bed to wait. While we could try walking all the way to Leiloa, it would be harsh on the children, not to mention the elderly, to travel at night. Nocturnal monsters were also more vicious and troublesome than their daytime counterparts.
So, what should we do?
Tor looked back and forth between Rashid and me.
We can't leave that troll alone. It could trigger a stampede at any moment.
I hope it took at least some damage . . .
His voice was tinged with anxiety.
From a distance, we peered toward where the troll had been, but couldn't make out anything. The burning house had already collapsed, leaving only faintly smoldering embers. We could tell the monsters were moving around, but gauging the state of the battle was beyond us.
Let's get a bit closer.
We slowly advanced through the darkness, carefully stepping around fallen goblins as we made our way back to the church.
The troll was down.
In the dying light of the flames, about a dozen survivors stood staring at its belly. On that hill-like bulge sat a single goblin.
It was the Mohawk who'd been fighting with Jack.
Mohawk slowly raised his sword and let out a victory cry. The survivors around him joined in. The sight of the troll, goblins, and orcs—each as ugly as the next—somehow looked incredibly beautiful.
. . . They actually brought it down? The goblins killed a named troll?
We stared at the victors as if witnessing something impossible.
Oh, there's Jack!
We looked where Lucy pointed and saw a skeleton caught in a tree branch. The troll must have sent him flying.
Hey Jack, are you all right?
The troll . . . landed a critical hit . . .
A mournful voice echoed from Jack as he hung limply.
You sure are a tough one, Sir Bones.
He said this with a wry smile.
As I borrowed Tor's halberd to get Jack down, the survivors started walking toward us.
I quickly returned the halberd and caught Lucy's eye. If it came to a fight, we'd strike first with Lamentation.
The goblins led by Mohawk were in tatters. Their numbers had dwindled to barely a dozen. Yet despite their condition, they wore expressions filled with confidence, having accomplished no small feat.
Mohawk wasn't holding his sword. He strode boldly right up to us and began gesturing with his hands.
Is he trying to tell us something?
He pointed to himself, then gestured toward the forest.
That they're leaving and we shouldn't follow?
Well, the one who was controlling them is dead . . . I guess we can let them go.
Since our words wouldn't get through to them either, I signaled our intent by sheathing my weapon.
Apparently satisfied with this, the Mohawk called out something to the other goblins before setting off toward the forest. The goblins followed behind him.
After taking a few steps, the goblin turned around and gave Jack a thumbs up. Jack returned the same gesture. Was this . . . friendship?
Just before the Mohawk disappeared into the darkness, I suddenly had an idea and used appraisal.
Goblin, named. Jilbel the Giant-Killer.
Had defeating that massive troll transformed him into a named monster? Come to think of it, he definitely looked stronger than when he was having that mud-slinging match with Jack.
Something wrong, handyman?
No, I was just musing over that Mohawk goblin. It's a named monster.
Oh, come now! You're pulling my leg!
Tor sounded incredulous.
Based on his title, I think he just became a named monster.
So, one named monster died and a new one was born? What a troublesome turn of events!
Then, should we give chase and cut him down?
At Tor's question, Rashid stroked his stubble.
I don't think so. A forest at nighttime? That would be rough. Besides, even though it's a named monster, I think this one's less dangerous than the troll was.
My thoughts exactly. Somehow, I can't bring myself to hate him.
Then let's give up the chase and report to the guild. Still though . . . I'm getting sleepy.
Tor yawned so widely his jaw looked like it might unhinge.
You were sleeping in the carriage, weren't you?
I was not.
Rashid's eyes went wide at Tor's unexpected answer.
You were snoring so loudly we could hear it from the driver's seat . . . ! Well, whatever. Even though we just evacuated them, let's get the villagers back to the church and rest until morning.
Rashid looked sleepy as he said this. It was the middle of the night, so that was only natural. I was tired too.
I'm full of energy!
Lucy said proudly as she looked at the rest of us sleepy people.
Well, you are a night owl.
When I said that, Lucy tilted her head in confusion.
Night owl?
Meanwhile, Jack was still gazing toward the forest where the Mohawk had departed.
Till next we meet, my worthy rival . . .
