"So, to recap!"

"...I don't think you should be drinking anymore."

"Damn right I will!" Warrior raised his mug with a hiccup, looking more than inebriated. "My life's a joke, I'm telling you..."

It's been three days since their fateful meeting with both God Hand and Goblin Slayer. The former didn't get to stay around, making a swift escape against some crazy woman with a hatchet. The latter was more of a busy bee instead, taking on a goblin quest after a goblin quest. Having seen how crafty and murderously merciless the little monsters were, Priestess had to wonder just how committed and broken one had to be to willingly go into goblin caves and methodically cut them down one after another.

"You okay there?" Monk nudged her gently with an elbow, making the blonde jump in alarm. "You really spaced out, huh."

"Oh, sorry, was just… thinking."

"I guess you are overthinking in place of our leader's underthinking." Wizard commented sourly, sipping her own ale. It seemed that the sole man of the party was the weakest when it came down to alcohol tolerance.

"I'm… I'm not!" Warrior slurred, shaking his head vigorously. The Obsidian tag on his neck – a proof of a goblin extermination quest well done – shook violently. None in the party really believed they deserved them. All heavy lifting was done by the two veterans – one of whom casually revealed himself to be a Gold Tag, and therefore a man who normally handled national crises – while they just took in notes, cleaned up the goblins at the end and, in Monk's case, got to play basketball with goblin children.

That goblin whelp did not die immediately.

"Well, we should try to find something more leisurely for work." Wizard continued, adjusting her glasses idly. "There's a bigger access to quests for us now that we have advanced up a rank, but we should probably stick to small-time quests for the time being."

"There's some minor zombie infestation on a nearby graveyard." Monk pointed out, looking at Priestess again. The blonde flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, um… I don't really have any anti-undead miracles."

"That's a bummer." The brunette leaned back, looking over to another table where some higher-ranked Adventurers were celebrating their own finished quest. "Hmm… what about wild animals?"

"We could do that. With the money from Goblin Slayer, we have enough to buy appropriate equipment."

"I'm not l-letting go of that sword… that's… a family heirloom…!"

"Alright, alright, of course you don't." Monk rubbed the bridge of her nose before standing up. "Come on, Warrior, you've had enough ale today."

"N-no… the shame's too great, I-"

"Come on. See you guys later." Slowly, but surely, the brunette opted to simply drag her troublesome childhood friend out of the hall by the scruff of his neck, accompanied by some minor chuckling from other patrons. Wizard watched them go from above her own mug.

"He forgot he bought it from the blacksmith for cheap." She mumbled, shaking her head.

The four of them had a single room at the inn in Frontier Town. The price was accommodating enough to stay, especially since lower-rank Adventurers received a small discount there. Of course, there were certain disadvantages of sharing a room with three other people – one of whom was an easily excitable boy – so for her part, Priestess stayed at the Earth Mother's shrine for the last two days. Still, it would be prudent to actually try and get to know her team a little better, even if Warrior was out like a light.

The blonde was making her way through the streets, idly taking in the sights. Frontier Town was a sleepy little community, just about big enough to accommodate Adventurers and middle-sized business. It had its irresistible charm, and she quite liked it. Priestess knew that Wizard was less than enthused about the place, coming from the big city, but them were the breaks.

On her way to the inn however, she had a fateful meeting.

The man was tall and handsome, in a white coat – it kind of resembled God Hand's stupid coat, she realized, but was much sleeker and smarter – and with a striking tattoo on his left arm. Despite the evening, he wore sunglasses. Striding confidently forward with incredible, radiating arrogance, he seemed less like a man and more of some kind of demi-god. Placebo effect's a drug, let me tell you.

Priestess, deciding to make herself look as small as possible, opted to simply go right past him, and for a moment it seemed that her dream of undisturbed evening would come true – only for the confident stride of the White Coat to stop.

"You there. Priestess." Slowly, the man turned. "A moment of your time, if you please."

"Y-yes?" She turned to face him despite everything in her body screaming to run for the hills. The man exuded an aura of raw power more akin to a dragon – that kind of strength had to be respected. "C-can I help you, sir?"

"Have you seen a man in a coat with a split skull on it?" He asked, one hand on his hip. "I've been looking for him." Oh dear, oh dear. Another Gold adventurer? Did God Hand run off again?

"N-no, sorry."

"Is that so? I can smell him on you." After a short pause during which the blonde grew progressively redder in the face, the stranger decided to reflect on his word choice. "So to say." Well, "reflect" might have been generous.

"Um, well, er..."

"It's okay. I mean no harm." Somehow, Priestess wasn't reassured by that statement. "All I want is to find this old friend of mine. It's not unlike you Earth Mother's priests to lie to strangers now, is it?"

"Are we having a problem here?" Wizard's voice reached both of them as the redhead approached the scene with a stern look. Behind her was another spellcaster – a voluptuous witch with long purple hair, idly smoking a pipe as she assessed the situation with a vaguely amused look.

White Coat turned to look at them, tilting his head ever so slightly. "No. I don't think we do. I'm just looking for a friend."

"You've heard her. She hasn't seen him." The man let out a quiet chuckle. Wizard, for her part, was happy to have a Silver Tag adventurer willing to back her up on this endeavor.

"I suppose I can't argue with that. Well, whenever you recall, little priestess, be sure to give me a holler. I'll be around." Thus, he turned on his heel and left, striding forward with the same arrogant air about him.

"What a curious man." The purple-haired Witch hummed in amusement, slowly dragging out syllables. "Such strength… yet such arrogance."

"I sure hope we won't see him again." Wizard shook her head, approaching the still-shaken Priestess. "You okay there?"

"Y-yeah, I think so. Thank you..."

"Don't mention it. It's what you do for your teammates."

Something was definitely amiss.

This was the fourth goblin nest in a row where Goblin Slayer's earlier scouting yielded different results than actually counting the goblins inside. The differences seemed to be in a number of Hobgoblins and Goblin Champions – or, perhaps, some evolutionary step between these two subgroups – and, more startlingly, in spotting new types of goblins.

Goblin Slayer, being himself, was more than prepared for these occurrences. The new goblins seemed to be less proper goblins and more some kind of a parasitic creature that emerged from a slain goblin from time to time. Covered in spikes and ugly growths, often missing an upper part of their heads, they moved erratically and usually with little sense to their names. Unfortunately, they proved more than resilient to damage and seemed to have no evident weak spots. Fortunately, they would often lash out at remaining goblins first, making it easier for him to approach them once they would tire themselves out.

Goblin Slayer theorized that these must be fragments of goblins' souls – if they even had those – trying to defy him one last time. It would certainly explain why the emerging creatures were so hideous and dangerous. Still, methodically he cut through the threats both familiar and unknown, eventually finding the abducted woman. She was, give or take, the age his sister was when…

No thinking about that now. All goblins were dead, children included. The job was done. His arm was broken from miscalculating how strong the Champion would hit him, but fortunately he was fine otherwise, keeping the woman up as they steadily put one foot in front of the other… at least until they reached the cave entrance. Someone was coming this way – and it wasn't an adventurer.

"Oi, hombre!" The man approaching was positively obese. Goblin Slayer took in the sheer abundance of strange details to his appearance: somewhat dark skin, the praying beads around his neck, prominently balding head, the white suit that seemed like it would fit more on someone several sizes smaller and younger, the smoking cigar in his teeth… "Are the goblins still there?!"

"...no." The man seemed disappointed at the answer, his shoulders slumping dejectedly.

"Mierda. I was hoping to talk some sense into that shaman of theirs. Stupid goblins, dying so soon."

"I, for one, do not mind." Hm. "Talk some sense" seemed like a strange euphemism for killing a goblin. Why only a shaman though? Goblin Slayer tilted his head slightly. "Are you an Adventurer?"

"Oh no, amigo, I'm just a messenger. Boss could use someone smaller and more fit, but nooo, make the old [name] do it." Despite his complaining, the man seemed much faster and more agile than his unhealthy frame would suggest. For his ridiculous look, he was definitely a noteworthy fighter. "But with goblins, they'd probably just try and shank you if you sent someone smaller, so maybe it makes sense. Bunch 'o huevons."

"...goblins respect only their individual selves. To even think of cowing one into servitude, one would have to be a ruthless warlord. If that is the case however, then I guess I will be killing their horde if they seek to use it." Third Deva tilted his head as this awkward conversation dragged on. The man behind the armor was a human, no doubt about it, but the way he talked certainly made him sound like some sort of mindless drone instead.

Well, the task was to stay incognito for the time being, so he would have to skip on this particular snack. Canned food always left him with a sore stomach either way, and the woman had been at the mercy of the goblins for some time. That would be like stuffing your fresh duck with sewage water; the thought alone made him shudder.

"Take care." Goblin Slayer nodded at the stranger, striding forward with the woman in tow. Third Deva watched him go with a puzzled look. Hm. He's heard some rumors about some knight in a shining armor killing goblins left and right in the Frontier, but this man was neither shining nor particularly knightly. And yet, the Deva was all but certain that down the line, that man would become an issue.

Maybe they could just use the goblins as fodder to throw at the wall in hope something sticks. He sure hoped so. Working with the little monsters left him devoid of appetite.

"I think we're making progress."

One small quest after the other, the rookie party was all in all doing quite well. They might not have been much stronger or more experienced, but they've gotten used to working with each other which, in Monk's eyes, was the most important thing in their team composition. It was really telling that they went into their first quest right off the bat, without any proper knowledge of not just the goblins, but themselves. Without the extraordinary help from both God Hand and Goblin Slayer, grisly fate would await them.

The main problem that they were facing, she thought, was that she and Warrior both excelled in the same thing: frontline combat. Priestess was their defensive support, and Wizard was the offensive one. The two of them were beginning to gear up their miracle/spell selection appropriately (the latter in particular), but between her and Warrior, they had to try and make sure they didn't step on each other's toes. He didn't ditch his too-big sword, but at least he decided to train up on a different weapon.

She watched with mild interest as a Silver Tag Spearman – apparently a teammate of a Witch that tutored Wizard – pulled Warrior's meager defenses apart time and again in their mock fight. Her friend was trying his best to make use of the training shortsword to score a hit on his opponent, but he might as well have been fighting against the coming storm. The discrepancy between their skill levels was simply too high. Then again, some said that pain is a good teacher, and Warrior would most definitely be sore by the end of this routine.

Monk's thoughts briefly went back to God Hand. She didn't have an opportunity to talk with the Gold Tag that much, but the ease and fluidity of his martial art amazed her even a couple of days after. She wanted to move with the same amount of confidence as him somewhere down the line. No doubt this was a matter of experience, but she couldn't help but think back to that kick. That one single kick that sent a hobgoblin flying through the corridor like it was made of paper.

She didn't realize she was shifting into the pose pre-kick until she caught sight of Priestess looking at her with a tilted head. "Hm? What's up?"

"Oh, um… you're doing the same pose God Hand did before he kicked a hobgoblin." Monk looked down at her feet. Huh. How about that? Well, why not make use of it?

"I guess I kinda wanted to ask him how to do all this cool stuff." She laughed, looking forward, imagining a green menacing brute bearing down on her. The kick didn't have to hit the jaw – these were easy to duck under – but hitting too low wouldn't make for an effective kick either. "I know it's probably just experience and that arm of his, but… man… imagine if I could" Monk twisted her body forward, kicking the imaginary hob right in the solar plexus. "do that."

"With luck and time, we should be able to grow that far. I think."

"Honestly, thinking doesn't seem like a helpful thing here. Feeling. I think you need to have a right feeling with that kind of strike." She lowered her leg and kicked again. "Don't think. Feel. You can think once the hit doesn't do its job."

"That seems a bit reckless." Her party seemed to be more taken in with Goblin Slayer's ruthless approach instead. That was why Warrior switched to a shorter sword and why Wizard began exploring spells of utility rather than raw power. Not that this kind of idea didn't have its own charm. Kicking a hobgoblin in a shin and then poking its eyes out sounded entirely plausible a solution.

"Well, it would be cool to put that kind of kick into a practical situation." Slowly, Monk straightened back up, stretching. In the background, Warrior fell down on his tush yet again, swept off his feet by Spearman's length of stick. "I just… God Hand and Goblin Slayer feel like two extremes put together, like fire and ice."

"No arguments there."

"One's what all Adventurers strive to be, right?" The brunette threw out a bunch of punches at the imaginary opponent, light on her feet as she weaved between the incoming enemies. "Boisterous, powerful, stylish, with a big name."

"To be fair, most Gold adventurers don't have someone chasing them around with a hatchet..." Priestess pointed out, recalling how Hatchet Girl all but routed God Hand out of the Guild building. "...well, most adventurers period." Monk shrugged: the idea was still the same.

"And then you have the other guy: in basic armor, with little to no need for recognition, who has just been killing goblins his entire life." Apparently that was how Goblin Slayer got his Silver tag: by doing nothing but goblin quests for ten years (according to Guild Girl's word). Considering how lowly these were considered, just how many goblin nests were destroyed entirely by this man? How could he stand to do the same thing for a whole decade, over and over again?

That kind of dedication was sought after by many martial artists. "They're both amazing despite being so different from each other." The combo of blows was finished by a roundhouse kick. This time, however, the enemy was real for once. Her foot was caught, and the only reasons she didn't lose balance and inelegantly land on her tush was because the catcher had enough strength to his name.

God Hand let her leg go, looking unusually bashful for himself. Behind him was the woman in blue, keeping herself from giggling – Hatchet Girl. "This big lug isn't used to such earnest compliments." She explained, taking in the growing embarrassment on Monk's face like a fine wine. Priestess, for her part, wondered just how on earth did these two appear here without any warning.

"S-shut up… crazy woman..."

In the background, Warrior was knocked out cold after his seventh attempt.

As it turned out, God Hand's visit was not incidental.

"That's what he gets for skipping out on a royal meeting." Hatchet Girl chuckled. The two of them, as well as three out of the four rookies (Warrior was still out cold). "An official reassignment to The Frontier to be its main guardian."

"Is that really alright though? I've heard that all Gold and Platinum adventurers have their hands full with demon forces." Wizard pointed out.

"Actually, God Hand is the weakest of Gold adventurers." Hatchet Girl hummed. Predictably, the big lug grumbled from over his mug of ale. "He's still a right monster, but he cannot hold a candle to the others."

"Is that right? But you were so strong back there at the goblin nest..." Monk mused, more to herself than to the others. "Oh! Right, before I forget: could you teach me how to do that kick?"

"...beg your pardon?"

"Well, lookie here: you already have students." It seemed that God Hand's troubles in life were Hatchet Girl's main source of entertainment. Priestess had to wonder how these two managed to meet and tolerate each other for so long. "But yeah, the King thinks it's fine to spare one Gold adventurer from the grisly conflict on the frontlines."

"Well… I guess there's some stuff to beat up here..." Wizard and Priestess exchanged glances: that was a tone of a man incredibly deep in his own denial. "Uh, what's the name of that big… worm… thing?"

"It's a rock-eater."

"Yeah, that. Also, goblins. And, uh… what are you kids fighting usually…?" He asked the rookies, desperately wanting a satisfying answer.

"Wild animals… a couple of minor zombies… giant rats… there were some slimes..." Priestess counted some of the adversaries they had to face in recent days. Each mention made God Hand look more and more dismayed. "S-sorry."

"Also, think of all the paperwork that you hate." Hatchet Girl nudged the unfortunate Gold tag with a chuckle. "Of all the official responsibilities. You've been promoted, big lug."

"Please, just… just give me a rope there."

"Hey now, it might not be as exciting as fighting demons, but it's not like there aren't things to do here." Monk cut into the conversation, trying for her best reassuring smile. Before God Hand could voice what he thinks about "things", Priestess stirred with a startled gasp.

"O-oh, right… um..."

"Something wrong?"

"...the man in the white coat." Wizard picked up with a frown. "Some guy in sunglasses was asking for you." God Hand tilted his head quizzically. "Sounded like he really wanted to see you."

"Don't know anyone like that." Something was amiss however: Hatchet Girl's peppy demeanor from earlier disappeared as if scrubbed clean. "White coat and sunglasses though? Next you'll tell me he had a tribal tattoo and talked like the world owned him a huge favor." Well, that wasn't awfully specific in the slightest. After seeing the long faces of both Priestess and Wizard, God Hand's vaguely amused smile disappeared. "Oh my god, you're serious."

"I think I know who that might be…" Hatchet Girl murmured, attention of everyone at the table turning to her. "And if that is indeed him, well… big lug, you'll have work cut out for you."