Chapter 60: Slaughter

Re-written date: 7 / 17 / 2025

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Chapter 60: Slaughter

As Goblin Slayer continued, any expectations of a lighthearted comedy had long been crushed. The mood in the theater had shifted entirely—no more laughter, no idle chatter. What remained was a room full of silent, tense viewers, their eyes fixed on the screen.

And when the armored knight finally managed to rescue the last surviving girl—the trembling, teary-eyed priestess—a collective sigh of relief rippled through the audience.

No one could bear to see such a gentle and innocent girl defiled.

"One.

"Two."

The Goblin Slayer moved with lightning speed, his sword cutting down the goblins before they could even react. No wasted motion. No flashy flourishes. Just precise, efficient kills.

There was no slapstick. No sudden gags.

This was not KonoSuba.

This was pure blood and brutality—stripped of the shiny, glamorous illusion called "heroism"—and laid bare for every viewer to see.

When the Goblin Slayer coldly stated that the wounded mage girl couldn't be saved, then calmly ended her suffering with his own hand, several women in the theater gasped audibly.

They weren't used to this.

Stage plays never dared depict death so directly.

Even KonoSuba avoided such heavy outcomes.

But Goblin Slayer? It never tried to hide. It showed the corpse. Showed the blood. Showed the cost.

Even Rhine—normally steady—felt uneasy watching it all unfold. To see a girl, young and full of life, die in such a painful, undignified way… and for the protagonist to just accept it without even trying to save her...

It was hard to stomach.

But beside him, Wycliffe spoke calmly. "That was the right call. On the battlefield, the worst threat isn't a powerful enemy—it's a helpless comrade. Reality isn't like the heroic legends. When a teammate takes a wound that can't be treated, ending their suffering and staying focused on the fight is the only responsible choice."

"But… as knights, isn't it our duty to protect the weak?" Rhine murmured.

It wasn't Wycliffe who answered—it was General Wilhelm, sitting a row ahead, who turned slightly and said, "Sacrifice is sometimes necessary. The Goblin Slayer made his decision to save others. If he'd stayed behind to care for someone who couldn't be saved, the fighter girl they just dragged away might never have had a chance."

Hearing both veterans speak with such clarity, Rhine had no choice but to fall silent. Still, something inside him refused to fully accept it. Even if it made sense… it hurt.

But then the Goblin Slayer moved again.

Without wasting time, he swept through the rest of the cave, eliminating goblins with cold precision. His knowledge, experience, and ruthless efficiency made the difference. And when he muttered, "They never even considered they could be the ones getting ambushed," Rhine felt a strange shiver crawl down his spine.

Not from fear—

From awe.

This guy… he wasn't a dragon-slaying hero. He wasn't famous. He hadn't saved the world.

And yet, standing there in his grimy armor, with no name and no glory—

He was cool.

At that moment, the audience began to understand.

Goblin Slayer didn't need to be flashy. He didn't need to smile.

He just had to be.

The theater, once unsure and skeptical, now leaned forward with renewed interest.

What would happen next?

What other monsters would he face?

Would the priestess girl—sweet and kind—stay with him?

With the audience's full attention, the goblin extermination operation advanced swiftly. As Goblin Slayer methodically wiped out the last of the goblins in the cave and finally shoved a fire-soaked goblin corpse back into the den to torch it from within, the entire hall let out a collective breath of relief.

The villainous goblins had been defeated.

The captured villagers were saved.

A standard conclusion in any adventurer tale—even if the journey here had been far darker than usual. While no one could claim the movie had been pleasant, at least justice had been served.

But then… something happened.

The Goblin Slayer uncovered a hidden wooden hatch.

And without hesitation, he hurled his axe at the trembling goblin younglings inside.

The theater erupted in unease.

"W-Wait— He's already killed all the adult goblins. Those are just… kids," Rhine muttered, his voice unsure. Conflict was written all over his face.

As a knight, he'd been raised to protect the weak and punish the wicked. Even if goblins were monsters, even if their kind brought only cruelty and death… they were still children. To kill them felt like a betrayal of that core ideal.

That sentiment spread across the audience like a wave. Even those who had cheered earlier now watched in silence, hands clenched tightly in their laps.

And then, the Goblin Slayer's voice echoed from the screen.

"If there are any, they're the ones who never show themselves."

The theater fell completely silent.

Not a cough. Not a whisper.

Only the sound of the film's burning audio and flickering visuals remained.

Everyone had the same thought—but no one dared to voice it. The protagonist had done the right thing. They all knew that. But there was no sense of satisfaction. No righteous triumph.

Only a choking weight in their hearts.

Even when the rescued girls were brought out of the cave, even when the traumatized fighter girl announced her retirement, the mood didn't lift. It got heavier. The sight of her shaking hands and empty eyes cut deeper than any blade.

A quiet dread spread across the room. Was this just a story?

Or… was this world real?

Has things like this happened before?

Were they happening right now?

The only glimmer of light came when the young priestess, now more determined, vowed to stay by the Goblin Slayer's side—to fight with him, to save others like those they couldn't help today.

That single scene brought a fragile comfort. Just enough to let the audience breathe again.

But even so, the silence in the room lingered long after that first arc ended. The white wall of the screen continued to glow, but not a soul spoke.

Everyone was lost in thought.

Opinions on the Goblin Slayer were still split. Some called him a necessary evil. Others couldn't forgive his methods. A few of the younger girls whispered suspicions that the man under the helmet might not be a man at all—maybe he was a goblin, masquerading in armor. That would explain everything, wouldn't it?

But then, the film moved on.

Scenes from Goblin Slayer's everyday life faded in. He didn't rest. He didn't laugh. He simply worked—hunting, training, preparing. And then came his memories.

Images of a goblin stronghold burning under a night sky.

His voice, low and steady, narrating what had happened to him.

What had been taken.

And why he would never stop.

Only then did the truth sink in.

He wasn't a hero.

He wasn't a monster.

He was just… broken.

A man consumed by revenge.

A man who had lost everything and filled the void with a purpose no one else could bear to carry.

Wilhelm exhaled slowly, breaking the silence between him and Wycliffe. "You see it now, old friend? This Goblin Slayer… he's just like the younger you. Same eyes. Same silence. Same way of walking alone."

Wycliffe didn't answer right away.

He sat there, still as stone, eyes fixed on the screen. Finally, he spoke—his voice calm, but distant. Worn.

"…Then the world he sees… must be gray."

A quiet line.

But in it, the weight of everything he had lived—and everything he could never forget—hung heavy in the air.