The bustling sound of the harbor hit their ears before they even stepped out of the taxi. The air was thick with the smell of saltwater, coal smoke, and oil. Towering steel cranes creaked and groaned as they lifted cargo off massive, brass-plated ships— their smokestacks puffing out steady trails of steam.
The docks stretched wide and far, and resembled an enormous mechanical beast sprawling along the shoreline, covered in gears and cables that crisscrossed the ground like veins. Cargo containers, stacked five high, formed towering walls around the harbor, with small, squat office buildings sitting in between— all humming with the clatter of machinery and the shouts of workers.
In front of the terminal, the streets were a chaotic tangle of bumper-to-bumper vehicles. Brass and copper automobiles, some sleek and fast, others bulky and boxy, belched steam into the already foggy air. The taxis— most painted in vibrant shades of green or yellow— lined up in droves— fighting for space with cargo trucks and buses. Their chimneys puffed rhythmically, spewing plumes of smoke that seemed to get swallowed by the hazy sky. Horns blared, drivers shouted, and the occasional hiss of hydraulics released steam into the crowded lanes.
Further out, on the shimmering surface of the Avalon Sea, massive cargo ships glided to and from Crossbell— their hulls a patchwork of steel and copper, glinting under the weak sunlight. Larger ferries, carrying passengers between the city and the mainland, churned steadily through the water, with their huge, paddle-like propellers stirring up waves that splashed against the weathered docks.
Goblin Slayer was the last to step out of the taxi. As he exited, his hand instinctively clutched his backpack to his chest while his gaze swept over the urbanized sprawl of the harbor. 'Incredible… This reminds me of how Forgehart looked… I wonder if with enough passing time and innovation, their stronghold will eventually look similar to all of this.' He thought to himself, while taking in the buildings of iron and stone that stretched as far as the eye could see— people and machines moving in constant, synchronized chaos.
With his grip on his backpack tightening, he fished into it carefully, before pulling out his large, worn purse. Opening it, he took a small handful of gold coins— the soft clink of metal catching the attention of his companions.
Dwarf Shaman, High Elf Archer, and Lizard Priest exchanged looks of dismay and jealousy. The glint of gold in the teen's palm had a mesmerizing quality to it.
He then turned around and offered the coins to the rat driver, whose whiskers twitched as he caught sight of the shining bounty. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Keep the change," Goblin Slayer said flatly. "And make sure you spoil your wife and kids at the Armada Château concert."
The rat stared at the coins in his hand— unable to speak for a moment. His mouth opened, but no words came out. After a second, he swallowed hard, with tears beginning to well up in his beady eyes. His breath came out shaky as he smiled, looking up at Goblin Slayer with a mix of gratitude and awe. "K-Kid…! You're a good one, y'know that?! T-Thank you, I-" His voice wavered— choking up, before he could finish. "I-I'll n-never forget this… You got no idea what this means to me…! N-Never gonna forget ya, pal!"
The teen simply nodded, and turned away without another word, as he slid his purse back into his backpack. The rat waved them off— regaining some composure but still clearly emotional as he called out after them, "Good luck out there, huh?! Stay safe!"
As Goblin Slayer moved forward, threading through the crowded pier, his companions followed, each still processing the scene. The streets and sidewalks were thick with people— humans, dwarves, elves, lizardfolk, and all manner of creatures. Vendors shouted from stalls— hawking wares ranging from fresh fish to mechanical trinkets. The steady hum of voices merged with the clatter of hooves and wheels against cobblestone, creating an overwhelming cacophony.
Dwarf Shaman let out a nervous laugh as they maneuvered through the throng— his gaze flickering to the bustling activity around them. "Ye best be careful with our money there, Beard-Cutter! Can't be throwin' it around for every wee act of kindness, eh?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "We gotta get paid too, ye know?"
Without breaking stride, the teen glanced over his shoulder— his voice as flat as ever. "You'll get whatever's left in the purse." The disdain in his tone was subtle, but clear enough to make High Elf Archer frown slightly. He continued, "Like we agreed."
Dwarf Shaman sighed but didn't push the issue further. Goblin Slayer shifted his backpack from his chest to his back and fastened the straps tight before pulling out a small atlas booklet. As they walked, he flipped through its pages, finding the section that displayed a detailed map of the East Avalon Sea Harbor, spanning four full pages. His eyes flicked from the map on the left to the list of locations on the right. After a moment, he spoke up.
"... We're going to "Radio Head"."
High Elf Archer, walking just behind him, furrowed her brow in confusion. "Radio Head? I thought we were heading to Mythical Morning, to meet that prick: Xavniik."
Goblin Slayer's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't stop. His voice carried a hint of resentment now. "It doesn't matter. You're all accompanying me to get paid— not because any of you care about my guild's future. Let alone myself."
The words hung in the air like a heavy fog— hitting all three of his companions like a punch. High Elf Archer's eyes widened, as her lips parted in shock, as she quickened her pace before grabbing him by the shoulder from behind.
"Hey! What did I say about running your mouth like that?!" She snapped, her voice tight with anger.
Goblin Slayer shrugged her hand off, his pace unchanging. His voice dropped to a low, bitter tone. "None of you are my friends— you said that yourself, remember?"
He picked up his pace, weaving through the crowd with practiced precision— being careful not to bump into anyone. High Elf Archer, Dwarf Shaman, and Lizard Priest were left standing there, stunned and silent, while watching him storm off ahead. Guilt flickered in their eyes as they glanced at one another, the weight of his words sinking in.
Without a word, they turned and hurried to catch up with him— the crowds of the bustling harbor swallowing them whole.
The heavy doors of Radio Head slid open with a low hiss, and Goblin Slayer stepped into a cavernous space filled with sound and unfamiliar sights. Instruments stretched from floor to ceiling— guitars of every shape and size, their glossy bodies hanging on hooks, gleaming under the soft, warm glow of brass lamps. Brass pipes lined the ceiling, hissing softly with steam— adding an almost industrial hum to the store's natural ambiance. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood, leather, and the faint metallic tinge of amplifier buzz.
Goblin Slayer stepped away from the entrance without a word, and distanced himself from the others. High Elf Archer, Dwarf Shaman, and Lizard Priest lingered by the door— their voices hushed and cautious. Every now and then, they glanced in his direction, and were unsure if they should follow or let him be.
The gray-haired teenager, unaware or perhaps uncaring of their concern, walked down an aisle of guitars. His gloved fingers brushed against the strings of a few, the unfamiliar twang of sound startling him, though his face remained hidden under his helmet— betraying nothing.
"Hey," a voice cut through the ambient noise, soft yet striking.
He turned slightly to see a draconian woman with black, choppy hair falling over one eye. She had a few facial piercings glinting under the light and wore a tattered band t-shirt and jeans. Her heavy eyeliner only accentuated the bored, yet mildly curious look she gave him. A lanyard with Radio Head stitched across it dangled from her neck, ending in a laminated badge.
"So, what kinda music you into?" She asked, swinging her arms in that lazy, quirky way— like she didn't really care about the answer but was asking out of habit.
The teenager stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head. "I don't… Play."
She blinked, smirking slightly. "Huh. So, are we perusing the menagerie for the sake of getting a gift then?"
His fingers tapped against his belt before he answered. "Yes. For my best friend. I… I don't know much about music."
She tilted her head, with her smirk growing just a bit. "Awwww! That's pretty sweet of you," she said, leaning against a nearby amp. "So, what kinda music does your friend play?"
Goblin Slayer hesitated, with his shoulders stiffening slightly beneath his armor. "I… Don't know."
Her grin widened, as a soft laugh escaped her. "Haha, ah! Oh, wow! You really don't know anything about music, huh?!"
Beneath his helmet, Goblin Slayer felt a wave of awkwardness, though he kept his voice steady as he replied, "No."
The draconian woman clapped her hands together— the sound light and encouraging. "Hey, no worries. We've got some recording booths in the back— the good shit. I can play you a few different genres, and help you figure it out. You know, get a feel for it."
A strange sense of excitement flickered in Goblin Slayer's chest. "That… Would be helpful."
And as they then began walking toward the back of the store, the teenager paused for a moment, almost sheepishly. "Is it… Alright if I take notes?"
The draconian girl grinned, with her sharp teeth flashing. "Go for it, man."
They then disappeared toward the recording booths in the back— leaving the rest of the party behind near the entrance.
High Elf Archer stood quietly, with her arms crossed as her eyes roamed the store. Instruments lined every shelf, wall, and aisle— guitars, keyboards, drums, all glistening like treasures. She chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "Hey. Do you two know how to play anything?"
Dwarf Shaman scratched his beard— his thoughts elsewhere. "Aye… I can play the sitar. Haven't touched one in decades, though. Probably a bit rusty."
High Elf Archer smiled faintly. "That's more than I can say. I never learned how to play anything." She shook her head slightly, a little embarrassed. "Not even once in over two-thousand years. Pretty shameful, huh?"
Dwarf Shaman laughed softly, though it lacked his usual spark. "... That is a bit lame, innit?"
There was a brief silence between them before High Elf Archer turned to Lizard Priest, who was seated cross-legged on the floor in quiet meditation. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and deep— as if he were somewhere far away.
"Oi, Jaree. What about you? Any instrume-"
Before she could finish her sentence, Lizard Priest opened his eyes and spoke softly, his voice steady but laden with sorrow. "-I no longer desire the reward."
High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman exchanged uneasy glances. The tension hung heavy in the air.
"W… What do ye mean, Scales?" Dwarf Shaman asked— his tone a mix of confusion and unease.
Lizard Priest's tail shifted slightly as he exhaled. He slowly rose to his feet, towering over the two of them, yet his presence felt almost delicate in its vulnerability. His yellow eyes, once so calm, were now filled with a deep sadness.
"Gold and riches pale in comparison to the weight of what we have witnessed," he said quietly, his voice filled with a quiet wisdom. "Since we met him… Since that first day in Stonehall, I have felt something within Goblin Slayer— a pain so vast, so consuming, and it's has only grown darker since then. Optimism alone serves just as a distraction for him— I've learned."
High Elf Archer's breath caught in her throat, and Dwarf Shaman frowned deeply— both unsure of where this was going.
Lizard Priest's voice cracked as he continued. "I… I have traveled many lands, met many souls, but never have I encountered one who carries such a burden. His pain is… B-Beyond words, beyond comprehension… A sorrow so deep, it's as if it has no end."
His eyes welled with tears, his voice growing thick with emotion. "H… H-How… How could someone bear so much, and still be so kind…? How can s-someone who hates himself so much continue to fight, to endure, to… To go on living…?! It's not fair." His tears began to fall, one by one— staining his scaly cheeks. "N-No one should feel as alone as he does…! N-No one with so much love in their heart should ever be allowed to feel such despair…!"
The weight of his words pressed heavily on them. High Elf Archer's hands trembled, as she pressed her thumb and fingers to her eyes— trying to stem the tears that had started to fall without permission. Her face reddened with frustration, and her chest tight as she struggled to hold it together.
Dwarf Shaman nodded slowly, his usual joviality gone. "Aye… You're right." His voice was low, barely audible, as he fumbled with the canteen of fire wine under his kimono. He unscrewed the top and took a long, steadying drink— his mind racing with thoughts of their companion.
High Elf Archer wiped her tears away angrily, as though the act of crying itself offended her. But no matter how hard she tried, the tears kept coming. Images of Goblin Slayer's journal flashed in her mind, his silent pain laid bare on those pages, and her heart ached.
Take me back and we'll start again.
The dream of back then, leaves no time to say that we lived so freely until that day.
Where a hand once held mine and the laughter, soft as breath.
Smiles on our faces— we both lie.
Drink deep until the colors become faded; until the blood rainbow above grows shaded.
If I fall, will you reach for me? The shadows engulfing what we both used to be.
All I've ever known is this lonely, emptiness inside me.
We laugh until the scorn begins to undo— so hear our cries, for love that's shattered and died.
And every wish I've made, I've made them for you. Using words that I hope one day will reach you.
Cry out, knowing what we've had has died— flames of heartache will set our memories alight.
Let's say goodnight.
Goblin Slayer shifted on the stool, trying to get comfortable in the unfamiliar surroundings of the recording studio. He couldn't help but feel out of place, being surrounded by the gleaming brass and copper gadgets of the massive control board in front of him— all humming softly. The room had a polished, mechanical charm to it, with wires snaking down from the ceiling and intricate dials flashing at every turn.
On the other side of the soundproof glass, the recording room was filled with instruments— guitars, drums, brass horns— all lined up on stands like soldiers. The long poles descending from the ceiling hovered over them like something foreign, and the walls were plastered with thick, soundproof padding.
Beside him, the draconian employee with spiked black hair was rummaging through a crate of records. Her scales were a bright, ivory white, which contrasted sharply against her tight band tee and ripped jeans. Her arms, adorned with bracelets and tattoos, moved swiftly as she sifted through the vinyl— her black-painted nails clicking against the cases.
She gave off the vibe of someone who didn't care much for what others thought— but there was something genuinely warm about her, even with the edgy look.
Goblin Slayer's gaze wandered to her name badge again. He hesitated, before addressing her. "Z… Zylithia?"
She gave him a nod while raising an eyebrow— still fixated on her task. "S'up, dude?"
He pointed toward the long poles hanging from the ceiling in the recording room. "What are those?"
She momentarily glanced over at him before flicking her eyes toward where he was pointing at. It was then that she grinned— the sharpness of her teeth flashing briefly as she leaned back. "Oh, those? Electric microphones. They're kinda new tech. We used to record everything with acoustic methods, which, you know, was fine… But this?" She gestured to the room beyond the glass. "This is some next-level shit!"
"Electric microphones…" The teen muttered— the unfamiliar term rolling awkwardly in his mouth.
"Yup," she said, now setting a small stack of vinyls beside the console. "With acoustic recording, you'd have to rely on the natural acoustics of the room, and let's just say it wasn't always… Clear. But electric mics? They pick up everything. Even the faintest whisper. That's why all the big bands use electric microphones exclusively. Like Armada Château, for example."
He nodded, still not fully grasping the intricacies of what she was saying, but still understanding enough. "I see. That's what I want then. Anything that sounds like them."
Zylithia's lips curled into a sly smile— her dark, heavily-lined eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've got good taste! Electro-swing and alt music, huh? Not bad for someone who's just getting into it." She shuffled through more records. "I'll show you a few other artists in that vibe, but… I'm also gonna throw in some of my personal faves too. Might surprise you!"
Goblin Slayer looked down at his leather journal— tapping the pen against its cover. "I'm ready to take notes," he said, albeit a bit awkwardly.
She chuckled softly, and found his seriousness endearing. "Oh man, you're really into this, huh?! Alright then! Let's get started." She then slipped the first vinyl out of its sleeve— her sharp teeth showing again in an excited grin. "Let's fucking rock…!"
The room filled with the crackle of the record coming to life— followed by the deep rumble of bass and the soaring wail of electric guitars. The armored teen leaned forward, while listening intently as the music enveloped him. The sound was overwhelming but strangely captivating.
"This one's "Arcadian Flame"," Zylithia said, while adjusting the volume. "They're kind of a mix of electro-swing and metal. Thought it'd be a good start."
Goblin Slayer nodded, scribbling down something in his journal, though much of it was disjointed. "It's... Loud."
Zylithia laughed softly— a genuine sound that seemed at odds with her tough exterior. "Yeah, metal can be intense! But there's a rhythm to it. It's chaos with a purpose."
He thought about that for a moment, then said, "It's interesting. Different."
She flashed him an approving smile. "Good. You'll get the hang of it." She leaned forward, before placing the next record on the turntable. "Wanna try something more upbeat?"
"Sure."
As the next song began, its rhythm more vibrant and energetic, Goblin Slayer found himself relaxing slightly— tapping his foot to the beat. It was fun. Not just loud, but alive.
Zylithia glanced at his foot and grinned. "This one's "Skyward Serenade". They've got that Armada Château feel you like. Swing, with a lot of punch."
"Remi would like this," Goblin Slayer said softly, almost to himself.
Zylithia's ears perked up. "Remi? Is that who you mentioned getting a guitar for?"
Goblin Slayer nodded, a small, rare smile hidden beneath his helmet. "Yeah. Remi… They're… Energetic, yet very mellow. Their sarcastic dry attitude can be off-putting, and they really know how to get under your goddamn skin— like, it's actually amazing how skilled they are at being annoying sometimes."
His voice grew soft, and for a moment, the ever-serious demeanor he usually carried slipped. "And yet… Underneath that irritating exterior… They're a lot like me, I think— at least that's what I feels like, whenever I'm with them… I don't have to pretend to be this way when I'm with them— they make me feel wanted… L… L-Loved, even…"
Zylithia watched him closely, a soft smile forming on her lips. "That's really sweet, dude. Remi sounds like someone pretty special. You must really care about them."
He nodded earnestly, a rare vulnerability in his voice. "I do, but… Part of me wonders if they're capable of reciprocating those sorts of feelings," the teenager admitted with a twinge of vulnerability in his low voice, as he felt his chest tighten. "I… I know I don't look like I do, but… I have a tendency to… Cling onto a perfected image of those who I care about… Even if… Even if that's not necessarily the truth."
Zylithia's grin faltered after hearing that, with her usual sarcastic edge fading away. "Hey, dude, don't be too hard on yourself, okay? Those lines of what's real and what's imaginary tend to blur when we think the world about someone… But deep down? We know what's real, and what's fuckin' fake…!"
There came a heavy tension in the air, and in its Zylithia appeared more perturbed after her rant than she seemingly intended to. But as quickly as she lost it, her cool demeanor returned to her pale-scaly face.
"... But hey, you're a good kid, and it seems like you got a good head on your shoulders— I think you'll figure it all out one day, man," she said reassuingly— giving the gray-haired teen a friendly pat on the back, before retracting her slender arm from behind him.
Goblin Slayer shifted slightly, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of embarrassment and discomfort. He wasn't used to talking like this— opening up. Especially not about Remi.
She then leaned back, crossing her arms. "Anyway… I think they'll love whatever you pick out for them. And honestly, it's not just about the gift. It's about the thought behind it. And you? You've got heart."
Goblin Slayer glanced down at his journal again, the tapping of his pen slowing. He felt lighter, somehow, like the weight he always carried had lifted just a bit. He wasn't used to compliments or encouragement, but it felt nice.
Zylithia then slid the next vinyl into place, before turning back toward him with a mischievous smile. "Alright— enough of the sappy shit. Ready to blow your mind with the next one?"
He nodded, more resolute this time. "Let's do it."
As the music began to play once more, Goblin Slayer sat back— letting the sounds wash over him. He still didn't understand everything about this strange world of music, but for the first time, he felt like he was part of it. And for the first time in a while, he felt a sense of calm.
Zylithia leaned closer, her voice playful but sincere. "You know, for what it's worth… If Remi's anything like how you described, then you two would hella make a cute couple!"
The teen then looked away— his cheeks growing warm, as the visor of his helmet served to conceal his growing smile. "Y… Y-You really think so…?"
"Fuck yeah, I do!" Zylithia replied with a lackadaisical tone, as she swapped the vinyl with a dramatic flourish— her many bracelets jangling as she moved.
She then shot Goblin Slayer a look over her shoulder, the neon lights of the studio reflecting in her dark, heavy eyeliner. "Alright! Now, let's class this shit up. I'm guessing you ever heard classical music either?"
Goblin Slayer— who was still processing the influx of stirred emotions inside of himself— needed a moment to register what she said, before finally glancing over at her to respond. "... Classical? Uh… N-No. No, I don't."
Her face lit up, fangs gleaming beneath a sly grin as she adjusted her black band shirt. "Oh, you're about to get educated! Classical is like… The start of all modern music. It's where all the complicated shit comes from. You'll love it. Or hate it. Doesn't matter. You'll feel something though— that's for sure." She then tossed her black hair over her shoulder, while her piercings caught the light.
She then proceeded to start the record, and the room was filled with the sound of a grand orchestra— strings swelling, woodwinds weaving, all in perfect harmony. The room felt larger somehow, all filled with the weight of history. The teenager listened carefully— his helmet tilting slightly as he tried to comprehend the layers of sound coming at him from every direction.
"It's… Powerful," he said quietly, while his hand moved to jot down a note in his journal.
"Hell yeah, it is," Zylithia replied, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. "Classical is all about drama, man. It's the epic soundtracks before soundtracks were even a thing. These dudes were writing symphonies hundreds of years ago, and they still slap harder than most shit today."
Goblin Slayer nodded, deep in thought. "It feels… Big. Like it's meant to tell a story without words."
Zylithia's face lit up as she then pointed a finger at him. "Exactly! It's like reading a book with your ears! See? You're getting it." She said, while gesturing wildly with her arms— as if she was conducting an invisible orchestra. "This is the kinda music that hits you in the chest. Makes you feel alive!"
'Makes you feel alive?' Goblin Slayer repeated to himself, while scratching more notes into his journal. "I see… I understand why it's lasted so long."
Zylithia leaned back against the console, while watching him with a satisfied grin. "Damn straight! Classical is timeless. But let's mix things up before you get too comfortable, yeah?"
She then slid another record from its sleeve— the cover art depicting serene mountains and traditional Dwarvish characters. "Now for something totally different— Gagaku. Ancient Tekkedan court music. This shit's from a whole different world."
As the first notes of Gagaku played, the teen froze. The music was slow, deliberate, and almost otherworldly. The flutes and strings carried an eerie calm that seeped into the room, making it feel heavier. His helmeted gaze stayed locked on the instruments behind the glass— though they didn't match the sound flooding the room, as far as he knew.
"This…" Goblin Slayer started, struggling to find words. "It's… It's strange."
Zylithia nodded emphatically, while waving her hands in front of her. "Yeah, Gagaku's weird as hell, but in a good way. It's ancient. It's like listening to ghosts or something. Gives you chills, right?" She mimicked a shiver, with her spiked bracelets clinking together.
"It does," Goblin Slayer admitted, while glancing down at his journal again. He scribbled something and then looked back at her. "It's calming, but… Unsettling at the same time."
"That's the beauty of it!" She enthused, while excitedly punching the air. "It's like a freaky dream! You don't know where it's taking you, but you're in it for the ride. It's all about that atmosphere."
He continued to listen closely— noting the strange harmonies and haunting tones. "It's... Complex."
"Yup!" Zylithia grinned. "You're nailing it. Now, for something completely different." She reached for another vinyl, before holding it up as if it were a prized relic. "You ready for country music?"
The gray-haired teen blinked behind his helmet— clearly confused. "... Country? Is it… Is it really just called "country"?"
Zylithia chuckled darkly, while slapping the record onto the player. "Oh, trust me. You're not getting outta here without hearing a little yeehaw. Don't knock it 'til you hear it, alright?"
The studio filled with the twang of guitars, a soft harmonica, and the unmistakable drawl of a country singer crooning about lost love and endless roads. Goblin Slayer sat rigid, clearly thrown by the sudden shift in tone.
"It's… Very different from the others," he said after a moment, while unsure of how to process it.
Zylithia laughed, a sharp, full sound. "Yeah, no shit, right? Country's got a bad rep 'cause it's simple, but that's kinda the point. It's storytelling, but in the chillest, most straightforward way. Some of it's corny, but some of it? Man, it hits you right in the feels."
Goblin Slayer hesitated, before nodding his head. "I can see that. It's… Honest."
"Damn, you're good at this," Zylithia mused, folding her arms and leaning against the console. "Yeah, it's honest. Country doesn't hide behind fancy shit. It's like "here's my life, here's my pain," and they just sing it like it is."
Goblin Slayer looked down at his notes, considering. "It's not my favorite, but I think I understand it."
Zylithia smirked. "That's all I ask, man. You don't have to like it, but it's cool that you're giving it a shot." She twirled one of her bracelets and shot him a look. "Now, let's get back to something a little more... You. I'm talking about rock n' roll!"
She dropped the needle on a rock track, and the room came alive with the pounding of drums— the steady hum of bass, and electrifying guitar riffs that seemed to set the air on fire. Goblin Slayer's head tilted again, the rhythm catching him immediately.
"This one," he said, his voice a little more confident, "I like."
Zylithia grinned wide, and her sharp teeth flashing. "Knew it! Rock's got that perfect balance— energy, emotion, and a little bit of edge. It's music you feel in your bones."
Goblin Slayer's fingers tapped the pen against his journal. "It feels... Powerful, but not overwhelming."
"That's 'cause rock is about control," Zylithia explained, her hands raising up exceedingly. "It's like walking a tightrope between chaos and order. You got the noise, but you also got the focus behind it."
Goblin Slayer nodded, writing that down.
After a long pause and as the track faded out, Zylithia crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly. "So, now that I've taken you on this magical fucking tour, what's your favorite?"
Goblin Slayer looked over his notes, pausing before answering. "I liked metal, jazz, swing, rock, classical, and... Gagaku."
Zylithia snorted, clearly impressed. "Dude, you basically liked all of it."
"Yes," he agreed simply, then hesitated before asking, "Do you have something I could take with me? So I could play that music for myself?"
Zylithia's smirk returned, and she raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "That depends. How much are you willing to drop?"
He thought back to the earlier conversation with his companions. Their casual remarks about gold and reward still stung. He had been holding back for too long, letting them treat him like a tool. With renewed resolve, he replied, "A lot."
Zylithia grinned wide, while flicking her hair back and standing up— her tail swaying behind her as she moved toward the doors leading back into the store. "Now that's what I like to hear! Lemme grab some shit for ya."
Goblin Slayer stood at the checkout lane, and was watching as his purchases were rung up by Zylithia. The lane had a polished brass conveyor belt that softly hummed as it moved his items along, intricate gears and steam valves quietly hissing from within. The cashier's station gleamed with an almost industrial elegance— a blend of high-tech and hand-forged aesthetics. Overhead, copper pipes intertwined with glowing tubes that pulsed faintly as the transactions processed.
One by one, the teenager placed his items on the belt.
A brand-new, leather-bound guitar case, followed by a stunning red Flying V guitar with sharp white accents, that looked like it could cut through the air.
Next came packs of guitar picks and strings, followed by a vintage-style suitcase gramophone with built-in speakers— its brass accents shining under the warm lights.
He added an entire box set of hand-selected vinyl records, a vacuum tube amplifier that gave off a faint, mechanical hum, a sleek lithium-mana battery pack, and lastly, a dolly with bungee cords to hold everything down for transport.
Zylithia scanned the items with a wry grin— her black-tipped nails tapping against the cash register as she worked. Her chains clinked with every subtle movement, and her spiked bracelets caught the light as she handled each piece with a practiced ease.
"Alright, Rockstar," she said, flicking a strand of her long black hair back. "Your grand total's five platinum coins, or five-hundred gold coins, plus tax." Her voice carried a sarcastic edge, like she was amused by how much he was buying. "Big spender, huh?"
Goblin Slayer silently opened his large purse, and pulled out a collection of precious gems he had acquired over time— diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds, each glinting under the shop lights. He handed them over without a word.
Zylithia's eyes widened slightly as she whistled low. "Damn, look at you." She reached under the counter and pulled out a small appraisal chart, glancing between the gems and the guide with a discerning eye. After a moment, she nodded and placed the gems into a secure deposit box, before sliding it back beneath the counter. Then, with a mechanical clink, she opened the register and handed him two platinum coins as his change.
"Good doing business with ya," she said, flashing a sharp grin, with her fangs glinting beneath the dim light. "And even cooler fuckin' around in the back with all that music. You're not bad for a guy in full armor."
Goblin Slayer took the coins, placing them in his pouch before nodding. "Thank you for your help," he said, his voice sincere. "I had more fun than I expected."
Zylithia stepped around the register, casually drumming her fingers on the countertop. "Hold up, I'll get you a tarp. No way you're letting all this get dirty on the way out. Free of charge, for a fellow music lover."
And true to her word, she returned with a large tarp— handing it to him before helping secure all of his purchases onto the dolly. The red Flying V was strapped down on top of the gramophone and the box of records, with the amplifier and accessories packed neatly beneath them. Zylithia expertly tightened the bungee cords, her hands moving with quick, practiced ease.
When they were done, she stood back, looking satisfied. "There, all set. Should hold through anything short of a storm."
Goblin Slayer glanced at the neatly packed dolly, then back at her. "Thank you. It was… Cool, meeting you too."
Zylithia smirked, crossing her arms as she watched him with that mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Likewise, man. You're alright. Try not to blow out your eardrums with that amp, okay?"
With a small nod, the teen turned and began pushing the dolly toward the front of the store. The brass gears of the wheels hummed softly as they moved over the polished floor, with the tarp rustling with each step.
As he approached the entrance, he glanced around, half-expecting to see High Elf Archer, Dwarf Shaman, or Lizard Priest waiting for him. But the shop's interior was quiet.
They weren't there.
A pang of guilt coursed through him. He sighed, feeling a wave of melancholy settle over him. 'They must've left me,' he thought bitterly, 'but it was bound to happen eventually.' He chuckled humorlessly under his breath, a resigned sort of sound. 'There's a reason I'm unwanted.'
But before he could sink deeper into the thought, he was suddenly blindsided by a firm, almost crushing embrace. Lizard Priest wrapped his long, scaled arms around him— lifting his slender frame off the ground with a booming laugh.
Goblin Slayer's first instinct was to fight back, but the familiar scent of incense and spices hit his nose, and he stopped struggling. His gaze fell on High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman, walking over to him with four small boxed containers in hand. The smell of something savory— grilled meats, rice, and warm spices— filled the air, and cut through the haze of his previous thoughts.
High Elf Archer smirked at him as she sauntered over, her ears twitching slightly. "What the hell were you doing in there for two hours? We thought you were getting lost in a music dungeon or something," she teased, giving him a playful wink.
Goblin Slayer, still dangling in Lizard Priest's grasp, frowned behind his helmet. "... Two hours?"
Dwarf Shaman chuckled, his belly bouncing slightly as he held out one of the boxes. "Aye, lad. We figured it was close to lunchtime, so we went to grab some food. Thought you'd be out sooner, but, well…" He gestured to the dolly. "Looks like you made quite the haul."
Goblin Slayer glanced at his stacked purchases, then back to them, a small sense of relief washing over him. "I didn't realize so much time had passed."
High Elf Archer rolled her eyes, though her smile softened. "Yeah, well, we figured you might be in there a while. Music can do that to you." She then held out the food box in front of him. "Here. It's street tacos and some rice. Didn't think you'd eat if we didn't bring something back."
Lizard Priest finally set Goblin Slayer down, chuckling deeply. "Indeed, it is easy to lose oneself when enthralled by a new experience." His deep, resonant voice was calm, understanding. "But as your friends, we will always return to you— even when you may not want us to!"
Goblin Slayer stared at the boxes they were offering, taking in the comforting smell of the warm food. After a moment, he reached out and accepted one. "Thank you," he said quietly, the weight of their kindness sinking in.
And they stood together outside the store eating their lunch, the soft rumble of gears and steam around them, the teenager couldn't help but feel a little lighter.
'Maybe I'm not as alone as I thought.'
Author's Notes: Apologies if there's plenty of slices of life happening, but there's a good reason for that. After Goblin Slayer goes to Crossbell and does when it he needs to do, the remainder of this story is going to escalate into its climax.