The fortress stood silent as Goblin Slayer gazed out from the highest tower— his armored form casting a shadow over the stone floor. His eyes traced the river flowing beside the fortress— the creaking water mill working steadily, the endless stretch of the Evergreen Forest in the distance. Far beyond, the jagged peaks of the Iron Flower Mountains rose against the evening sky— their sharp edges cutting into the clouds like swords.

He leaned against the stone window frame, letting the cool air brush through the openings of his helmet. For the first time since he took the fortress, a strange feeling settled over him—something he wasn't used to. It wasn't the satisfaction of victory. It wasn't the grim determination that usually followed battle.

It was doubt.

He frowned beneath his helmet. 'What now?' He wondered to himself— the question gnawing at him, as he continued to stare out through the stone fixture.

He'd fought, killed, and won. He'd carved out a space for his guild, a place where he could begin his crusade. But now that he stood here, overlooking the vastness of the world— the enormity of what lay ahead hit him harder than any enemy he'd faced.

'Where am I supposed to go from here?' He asked himself silently— having no idea what came next. 'Running a guild isn't going to be anything like killing goblins. That's simple—I've already spent years perfecting that. But… Managing people, organizing resources, leading others? I've never done that… Am I even capable of doing any of that?'

His hands tightened around the window ledge. Guild Girl's words echoed in his mind, soft but unwavering. "You… You need help, Mr. Ashta— more than you need to put that sword to good use."

'Maybe… Maybe she was right? Maybe this really was all just a mistake.' The thought cut deep, as he began thinking to himself, 'What if there was some truth to that psychological evaluation after all? Am I actually on track of accomplishing anything, or am I merely reaching for the unobtainable?'

His breath slowed, and for a brief moment, he felt the weight of it all crashing down—his ambitions, his vengeance, his responsibility.

'Is this… Is this all just in vain?'

It was then that his troubled mind drifted back to the village. His sister. The warmth of her smile, the sound of her voice. He hadn't thought about her in a long time. 'What would you think of me, Vivi, if you saw me like this? Standing in this fortress, covered in the blood of goblins and bandits alike…'

'… Would you see the same thing that the Guild Girl saw in me? Someone driven by revenge… Someone who's too broken to move on?'

He clenched his jaw, pushing those thoughts aside. 'Not that any of that matters… You may not be here anymore, but the goblins still are. And right now, they're breeding, raiding, destroying lives. And no one else is going to stop them. Not the Guild. Not the adventurers chasing fame and gold…'

'… Which is why have to do this— even if I know I can't. My goal may be in vain, but I won't let your death be.' The memory of her face steadied him, as he came to that conclusion. His grip then loosened on the window ledge, as he straightened his posture. 'That girl was right about something though… I do need help— now it's just a matter of finding that help.'

With his thoughts more clear than they had been, it was then that Goblin Slayer took a look at the scenic environment through a different perspective. Specifically, toward the Iron Flower Mountains in the distance— their peaks looming like jagged teeth against the darkening sky.

Beyond them lay the capital of the kingdom. A place full of people who understood power, politics, and strategy.

'Crossbell… I need to find help in Crossbell,' the armored teenager thought determinedly to himself— his resolve burning brighter than ever, as turned away from the window, with the last remnants of doubt fading from his mind.

Goblin Slayer moved quietly through the Evergreen Forest, his senses sharp and his hand always near the hilt of his short sword. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows between the towering trees. The day had been long, but his determination pushed him forward.

'Three days, ' he thought, as that would be the time it would take to reach Crossbell through the Iron Flower Mountains. With enough gathered supplies from the goblin cave earlier that day, his pack felt heavier than usual as he trotted through the thickets— his leather bag filled with iron-grade weapons and tools, though he welcomed the weight.

Soon enough he found himself passing by a familiar part of the forest— the cave where he had slaughtered goblins hours ago loomed in the distance. A dark maw of stone, now silent. The teen's hand rested on his sword's grip as he pressed on— his eyes constantly scanning the trees and undergrowth for any sign of movement.

A loud clash ahead snapped him out of his thoughts. Steel against stone. His body tensed, instincts kicking in as he advanced cautiously. Pushing through the thick brush, Goblin Slayer discovered the source of the noise—a large figure, green-skinned and hulking, locked in battle with a massive rock monster.

His mind raced. 'A goblin? A hobgoblin? No... They're too big to be either… I think?' He second guessed him, while watching as the figure swung a greatsword— her muscles straining, as she fought to fend off the creature's relentless blows.

Despite her impressive size, she was struggling— her movements growing sluggish as Goblin Slayer watched on, as the rock monster pressed its advantage. It wasn't long until one of its stone fists struck her side— sending her crashing into the dirt with a loud thud.

Goblin Slayer's first instinct was to let it happen. If she was a goblin, her death meant one less threat in the world. But then that's when an intrusive thought suddenly popped into his head.

'But what if they're not a goblin?'

And before he could stop himself, he began moving out from his hiding spot— drawing his short sword and charging toward the monster.

His blade struck hard, slicing into the rock monster's leg. The creature let out a deep, rumbling roar, stumbling back slightly as it tried to refocus its attention. Goblin Slayer rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a swing from its massive arm. His mind worked quickly, searching for weaknesses. The joints, the cracks in its stone form—indicating to him where he needed to strike.

As he moved in for another attack, the creature swung its fist with unexpected speed. Goblin Slayer's shield took the brunt of the blow, but a second strike came too fast. The rock monster's fist collided with his head, sending him crashing to the ground. His helmet, cheap and worn, cracked under the impact— splitting in two and falling from his head.

Dazed but still conscious, Goblin Slayer rolled to his feet, blood trickling down his face. 'That was too close of a call— that could have just killed me,' he thought to himself— clutching his sword tighter, as the daunting words of Captain echoed in his head.

"Is that all you can do?"

Aiming for the cracks between the monster's abdominal armor, Goblin Slayer lunged forward with a quick thrust of short sword— managing to get his mark, but unable to pierce through the monster's thick hide beneath its rocky exoskeleton.

Attempting to retract his sword from between the cracks of its armor, Goblin Slayer felt his heart skip a beat the moment he saw the monster's massive arm swinging towards him like a warhammer.

"You're slow… And sloppy."

Forced to abandon his short sword, Goblin Slayer dropped to the ground— landing on his back, where he saw the rocky monster lifting its bulky, short leg up as its jagged-armored arm swung sideways where his head had been.

Rolling backwards just in time to avoid having his groin stomped into a bloody pulp by the heavy monster, the teenager kicked his legs up with the momentum to stumble back onto his feet— his hands immediately reaching for the small daggers he kept on the outside of his backpack.

Rotating the iron daggers upside down— so that the ends of their leather-bound handles were facing upwards to the tree canopies— Goblin Slayer tightened his fingers around his weapons out of defiance against the eyeless monster looming over him— it's maw opening up to reveal pointed teeth, as it growled intimidatingly at what it saw as its prey.

'These aren't going to work against whatever this thing is… If my sword didn't cut it, then these pieces-of-shit aren't going to either,' Goblin Slayer thought grimly to himself, as he lowered his stance with his right foot sliding backwards. 'There's no winning against this thing— this isn't anything like a goblin. I'm out of my league.'

"If you won't accept your fate, then you'll just have to perish in denial."

'But… Even so…' Goblin Slayer's determined thoughts pressed on, as he clenched his jaw while expelling a breath through his nostrils. 'Even so, I won't accept it— I refuse to be in vain.'

Timing the rock monster's next move, Goblin Slayer feinted as though he were gonna leap upwards to drive the daggers downward— tricking the twelve foot monsters to preemptively strike upward with both arms.

'Now,' Goblin Slayer told himself, as he took the opportunity to pounce forward with his back horizontal— moving beneath the rock monster's bulky arms, while cocking the handles of his daggers back along his hips.

Knowing that the time to strike was either then or never, Goblin Slayer proceeded to put all of his weight into his attack— slamming the ends of his daggers' handles against the pumble of his short sword.

The deep, low roar emitting from the monster's open maw as it stumbled backwards was more than enough to ensure that his strategy had been a success. Having learned the hard way just how fast his large opponent could be, Goblin Slayer didn't hesitate to throw himself backwards once more— safely landing on his elbows and rear, while looking up at the frenzied beast as it wildly swung its jagged arms towards where it last sensed him.

The green-skinned figure, now back on her feet, took immediate advantage of the distraction Goblin Slayer had inadvertently created. With a ferocious cry, she sprinted toward with her greatsword raised above her shoulder— swinging its dark blade into the rock monster's side, and splitting its stone armor with a loud crack.

The creature let out one final groan as its upper midsection landed onto the feet by the teenager's boots— causing Goblin Slayer to immediately crawl backwards away from its flailing arms.

With his breath hitching upon seeing seeing the panicked monster beginning to rapidly drag itself towards him, the gray-haired teenager felt himself flinching just as the woman's greatsword swung downward one last time— splitting the rock monster's cranium clean in half, and exposing its gray matter and bone, as it finally laid motionless in a pool of its own blood.

Frozen while propped up on his elbows and heels, Goblin Slayer remained staring wide-eyed at the remains of the slain monster— his chest rising and falling heavily, as the adrenaline from the battle faded.

'I… They… She… She saved me,' his racing mind scrambled to articulate, as his eyes darted upwards toward the sight of the muscular woman that was still hunched over beside the freshly slain monster— her exposed, bulging biceps and face glistening with a thick coat of sweat, while she too appeared somewhat shaken from her own respective close call.

Catching her breath before letting out a deep sigh while recomposing herself, the green-skinned woman turned toward him— straightening her posture, while reaching up with her left arm to wipe sweat from her brow. Her expression was a mix of frustration and disbelief. "… What were you THINKING?!" She barked, her voice deep and rough. "Attacking a golem with that junk you're carrying…! You could have gotten yourself killed, human!"

Still finding himself intrigued by her appearance, Goblin Slayer continued to remain silent— staring at the small tusks protruding from her lower lip, before taking notice of her short greasy black hair that was styled into a jaw-length messy bob. 'Still can't tell… Though, I can't recall a goblin ever being able to speak Common before… Or have breasts,' he thought idly to himself, while unintentionally testing the patience of the woman who stood nearly twice his height.

"Oi! Human, I'm talking to you! What, are you deaf, or some shit?!" The muscular woman demanded in an irritated manner— extending her left hand down toward him, before shaking it as she proceeded to shout at him, "Well, come on— get up before I leave your mute ass for the wolves!"

Pulling himself out of his dwelling thoughts, Goblin Slayer regained control of his senses while realizing what the muscular woman in sleeveless armor was doing. Though the gesture was admirable, the teenager refused to take her hand— choosing to instead ask her bluntly, "Are you a goblin?"

Upon hearing his sudden question, her eyes widened in outrage as she retracted her hand away from him. "Goblin?! You think I'm a goblin?! A FUCKING GOBLIN?!" She shouted out loud, before pointing to herself, with an incredulous expression forming across her sweaty face.

"Look human: I know your kind tends to be stupid, but surely some sensible part of you can recognize that I'm an orc! I mean, do I look like a puny, filthy goblin to you?!" She asked rhetorically, and though seemed ready to continue her tirade but paused, frowning at the confusion in his crimson eyes.

"From where I'm at, yes," Goblin Slayer replied bluntly, while silently glossing over the unfamiliar word lingering in his mind. "Orcs… I don't know what those are. Are they related to goblins?" His tone was laced with skepticism, as if he was still deciding whether to trust her or not.

Grusha rolled her eyes, clearly irritated by his lack of understanding. "What?! No! Orcs are nothing like goblins, dumbass!" She shouted back, before pointing a thumb at herself for emphasis. "We're bigger, stronger, smarter. We have a society, a culture. Goblins are... Vermin. Filthy, sneaky, and they don't think beyond their next meal. We actually know how to live without being mindless, cowardly pests."

Goblin Slayer mentally noted Grusha's frustration, but kept his response short as replied, "Oh… I see," before growing silent— his mind processing the new information, even as the orc woman gave him a scowl.

Wordlessly rising up to his feet, Goblin Slayer glanced at the remains of the rock monster, then back at her. Exchanging silent thoughts to one another, the orc woman soon bristled after noticing his pupils gesturing toward the slain monster— her face flushing slightly as she looked away.

"J-Just so we're clear: I didn't actually need your help— I had it all under control," she muttered stubbornly, though the embarrassment was clear in her voice. She turned back to him, still clearly frustrated but softening. "And even though you needed me to bail your ass out of whatever stunt you tried pulling… I… I'm grateful for the effort you showed, so… Thanks, I guess." She shifted awkwardly, trying to maintain her pride despite the fact that she had been saved.

"S-Sure," he said with a slight head rush that made him reach up toward his wound, so as to wipe the blood from his forehead— his vision beginning to blur slightly, as he then lowered to inspect the blood on his fingers.

The orc's eyes flicked to him, then to the blood on his forehead. She frowned, noticing the extent of his wound. "Hey, uh… Are you alright there, human?" She asked— her tone more concerned than before. "You look… Kinda like shit."

"I'll… I'll be fine," Goblin Slayer said dismissively, before wiping the blood off onto the leather armor around his thigh. "What about you? What were you doing out here?" He asked, while trying to shift focus away from his injury.

The orc woman huffed, clearly trying to maintain her tough exterior. "I volunteered to hunt down this wretched thing— alone, so I could prove to myself and others what I'm capable of," she said, nodding toward the pile of rubble. "Not that any of that matters now, though— seeing as you decided to butt in."

Goblin Slayer remained impassive. "I see," he said, shifting the topic. "I'll… I'll be heading north now— I've got a long journey ahead of me."

Her eyes flickered with recognition, and she raised an eyebrow. "Through the Iron Flower Mountains? You must be heading to Crossbell then?"

"Yes," Goblin Slayer flatly replied, as he lowered his head— his eyes darting from piece to piece of his broken helmet, that laid across the blades of grass within his immediate vicinity.

Packing the pieces of helmet into his pack, Goblin Slayer's mind began buzzing with a growing migraine— causing him to wince. The orc woman stood nearby, watching him closely as he finished picked up his damaged sword before sheathing it.

She crossed her arms, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance written across her face. "Hey, what's your name, anyway?" She asked— her voice gruff, but edged with impatience.

Goblin Slayer glanced at her. "Goblin Slayer," he replied, his tone flat and dismissive.

The orc woman blinked, clearly not satisfied with his short response. "That's it? Just... Goblin Slayer? No real name?"

"That's all that matters," he replied curtly.

The orc sighed, rubbing her temple as though he was the one giving her a headache. "Great," she muttered. "Of course, you had to be a weirdo." She shook her head before saying, "Grusha Forgehart. That's my name. I'm from the Forgehart Clan, and we're nothing like those goblins whom you APPARENTLY seem to think look— indistinguishably, might I add— like orcs."

Still reeling from the pulsating pain in his head, Goblin Slayer had raised his hand back up to nurse his migraine— his other hand still close to the handle of his short sword, as he gave the orc woman a subtle nod before simply replying back with, "I see."

Unimpressed with his two-word response, Grusha let out a small, exasperated growl. "You don't… You don't talk much, do you?"

He shook his head slightly. "No."

Grusha sighed again, visibly annoyed. "Fuckin' thing must have hit your head harder than I thought," she muttered under her breath. Then, louder, she continued, "Look… My clan's stronghold is nearby, at the base of those mountains. We've got supplies, food, and, well... Someone who can actually treat that injury of yours."

Goblin Slayer tensed at the thought of following an orc to her stronghold. It wasn't trust that held him back—he trusted no one easily—it was caution. He'd only just met her, and his instincts screamed at him to remain vigilant. But the migraine pulsing in his skull was growing worse, and he knew he needed rest before continuing his journey. With a slight frown, he finally relented. "That'll… That'll be fine— yes."

Grusha raised an eyebrow at his reluctance but didn't comment further. Instead, she nodded and started walking, motioning for him to follow. "Come on then. It's not far."

And as they walked, Grusha glanced back at him occasionally— clearly still curious about the silent warrior behind her.

After a while, she broke the silence. "So... What's with the whole goblin obsession?"

He didn't answer right away, his hand brushing against the hilt of his sword as they passed a thick patch of trees. "It's not an obsession," he finally said, his voice low and matter-of-fact. "It's a purpose."

Grusha frowned. "Right, but... Still, why? What exactly is the reason behind such a purpose?"

For a moment, Goblin Slayer considered telling her the truth. The village, his sister, the horrors the goblins had inflicted on his life. But he kept those thoughts locked away, his eyes fixed ahead as they walked. "They all need to die— it's as simple as that."

Grusha seemed unsatisfied with his answer but didn't press further. Instead, she changed the subject. "So, about that helmet of yours... You might want to get that fixed before your head takes another hit."

Goblin Slayer glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "Unless I'm backtracking to Maggiore, that's going to have to wait until I reach the town of Matterhorn."

"Well that's where you're wrong— turns out that you're in luck!" Grusha revealed, with a cocky smirk across her plump lips. "My uncle's a blacksmith. He's good— damn good— but he doesn't do favors for free. You'll need to give him something in return."

Goblin Slayer nodded slowly, considering her words. "I'm carrying loot from the goblins I've slain," he said, his voice as flat as ever. "Think he'll accept that as payment enough?"

Grusha laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Goblin loot, huh? Not sure if that's gonna cut it— best that'll come out of that low-grade crap is recycled material," the orc woman mused, before shrugging her large shoulders, and adding, "Who the hell knows though?! Maybe my uncle is feeling generous towards humans today— but honestly, I fuckin' doubt it!"

And as they continued through the forest, the trees began to thin— the distant peaks of the Iron Flower Mountains looming large across the horizon. The sun had long since descended over the horizon— the stars beginning to twinkle with the moon rising, as the pale purple and blue hues of the twilight sky was on its way of transitioning to night

Grusha led him down a narrow path, her movements more relaxed now that they were closer to her home. "You'll like the stronghold," she said, glancing back at him. "It's built into the mountains— real sturdy, and you'll be able to sleep well knowing you've got company of over one hundred orcs strong keeping you and everyone else safe."

Goblin Slayer remained quiet, his mind racing with even more caution upon hearing the sheer size of the stronghold's guard. 'One-hundred orcs… If they were goblins, it would still be difficult, but I'd have a chance of defending myself. But if even just one of those guards are as capable as she is, then… I can't imagine myself being able to do much against them in a fight…'

'… But on the other hand, perhaps having a neighboring army of that size is a blessing,' Goblin Slayer thought to himself, while being able to make out the silver lining of the situation. 'Perhaps they could be allies of my guild, in the near future? I'll have to bring that up when I get to Crossbell.'

Soon, the path opened up to a wide clearing, and there, nestled against the base of the mountains, stood the stronghold in all of its mighty glory. Built from dark stone and reinforced with thick wooden beams, the structure of the walls surrounding the tall, iron-plated homes on the inside was imposing, yet surprisingly well-crafted. Smoke billowed from the chimneys sticking out of the flat roofs of the four-story buildings— the faint sound of metal striking metal echoed from within.

Grusha stopped and turned to face him. "Welcome to Forgehart Stronghold," she said, her tone half-prideful, half-mocking. "Let's get you inside before you collapse from that head wound— you've been kind of walking funny for the past half-an-hour, human…!"