Chapter 66: A Groundbreaking Performance

Re-written date: 7 / 17 / 2025

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Chapter 66: A Groundbreaking Performance

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

...

"And to them… I'm the goblin."

...

"The demon army is almost at our doorstep! This concerns the fate of the world—do you even understand that!?"

"I understand it just fine."

"Then why—!"

"But before the world ends, the goblins will destroy the village first."

...

"What do you think a powerless man will do when he gains power? Even if he pulls it off, it's all an illusion. The truth will show itself soon enough. But in the end, it's still your decision. The moment you choose to move forward—that's when you've already won."

...

"You're just another filthy goblin. And I am… Goblin Slayer."

...

The entire film ran for an hour and a half, and not a single person left their seat. Most of them forgot to even blink, completely drawn into the screen.

And when the final scene played—when Goblin Slayer, battered and bloodied, defeated the Goblin Lord not with elegance or power, but with stubborn, desperate tenacity—a strange silence fell across the room. Not stunned silence, but a heavy, thoughtful one.

Many adventurers remained seated afterward, deep in their own thoughts.

Some of them, who had long considered themselves failures—people who drifted between odd jobs, never making names for themselves—felt as if they'd been seen, even understood. Goblin Slayer's philosophy didn't glorify strength or fame. It validated those who stayed small, who worked quietly to protect others, even if no one ever praised them for it.

Others—young adventurers, full of dreams of slaying dragons or becoming heroes sung in ballads—found themselves reconsidering. Their eyes lost that dreamy gleam, replaced by something more grounded. After watching the movie, some whispered about going to help a struggling village nearby. Maybe just clearing out a small goblin nest. Nothing fancy. Just real work that helped real people.

And those who weren't adventurers at all—ordinary townsfolk who only came out of curiosity—left the theater with new thoughts as well. Thoughts about how lucky they were to live in peace. About how much they owed to those who defended that peace in silence. It wasn't the same kind of joy they felt watching KonoSuba. This was different. Deeper. It awakened something more human. Something kinder.

Even Sam—who had only come along because Joseph dragged him—had been completely converted. By the end, he was practically bouncing in his seat, shouting over the credits, "Movies are amazing! No, seriously, movies are incredible!"

Whatever bias he once had toward films evaporated by the time the screen faded to black. His heart was racing. He was on fire. So overwhelmed that he even forgot the film's heroine looked suspiciously like Daphne, the daughter of the Southern Territory Grand Duke—someone he might have actually seen in person once.

"My gods, Goblin Slayer was so damn cool! Joseph, let's go get some armor like his and take down some monsters ourselves!"

Joseph, still caught in the weight of everything he'd just seen, blinked at his partner's outburst. The grim and grounded world of adventurers shown in the movie was still swirling in his mind. Compared to that, Sam's usual manic energy felt... unreal. Still, it brought a smile to his face.

"Uh... don't drag me into your suicide mission, thanks. You saw what happened to those rookie adventurers at the start, right? We should be focusing on joining experienced parties first, getting some real training. That's what we should be doing."

"Hmm... yeah, okay, you've got a point. Let's do that instead! Hahaha! One day, we'll be strong enough to take down goblins—or whatever else the world throws at us!"

For a moment, Joseph stared at his partner in disbelief. Even after all that, Sam could still laugh like that. That goofy, unshakable optimism... it was weirdly reassuring.

He couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right," Joseph said as he clapped Sam on the shoulder. "So let's go find the master at the training hall after this. I'm pushing for Rank 2 this time—no more excuses!"

"Now that's the spirit! That's my partner!!"

Just like Joseph and Sam, many rookie adventurers found themselves seeing the adventuring profession in a whole new light after watching Goblin Slayer.

...

Mage Tower – Grand Lecture Hall

"—former Imperial Mage, now Wild Mage, Edward Durin, will have his status restored. He will serve as Dean of the newly established School of Magitech Alchemy under the Imperial Mage Academy."

The announcement rang out like a thunderclap.

Gasps of disbelief rippled through the room, and the entire grand hall was soon buzzing with astonishment. Half the room's shocked stares were fixed on the dignified figure of Hohenheim at the podium, while the other half stared at Edward—who was still sitting in his seat, looking utterly confused by what had just been said.

"Administrator Hohenheim," one of the older mages stood up and objected sharply. "The Alchemy Tower has been a subsidiary institution under the Mage Tower for centuries. Since its founding, it was decreed that magitech alchemy could never stand on equal footing with formal magical studies. For hundreds of years, the lack of tangible results in magitech alchemy has prevented it from being recognized as an official school of magic. And now you're saying it's not only independent, but that Edward Durin—of all people—is heading it?"

Everyone in that room remembered Edward. The so-called alchemical rebel who once made waves across the Mage Tower, only to be exiled for his heretical ideas. Many of them had been present the day he loudly declared the dawn of an "Alchemical Revolution."

And they all remembered who had expelled him—Hohenheim himself.

So what the hell was going on now?

Why had magitech alchemy suddenly been raised to the level of a major magical discipline? And how could Edward, the man once banished for his radical theories, be standing here as the department's new head?

Was this a dream?

Anticipating the backlash, Hohenheim remained calm and composed as he addressed the crowd. "I understand your confusion. I understand the skepticism many of you feel toward magitech alchemy—and toward Edward Durin himself. But this is the Mage Tower, the pinnacle of magical research and advancement. Here, we must set aside personal grievances and outdated preconceptions. The only metric that matters is whether something can further the progress of magic itself."

With that, he reached into his robes and pulled out a small crystal that shimmered faintly with magical light.

"This is an invention by Edward Durin: an 'Imaging Crystal.' Aside from requiring a small amount of mana to activate, it is entirely alchemical in nature. And its function…"

As Hohenheim gently poured mana into the crystal, a vivid moving image appeared on the enormous wall behind him. The audience collectively leaned forward—then gasped.

The scene playing out before their eyes was unmistakably from KonoSuba.

"This... this is live footage?" murmured a mage who specialized in illusion and projection magic.

Hohenheim nodded. "Yes. This crystal stores and projects recorded images in real time, on any surface large enough to display them. But rather than explain it all myself... Edward Durin, would you be so kind as to take the stage and explain the function and theory behind this imaging crystal?"

Realizing there was no escape, Edward let out a resigned sigh and slowly stood up. Under the intense gazes of everyone present, he walked toward the podium with steady, unhurried steps.

"Uh... before I get into the technical details, I think it'd be best if everyone just watched the whole thing first," he said awkwardly. "Administrator, if that's alright?"

Hohenheim's eye twitched slightly but ultimately gave a helpless shrug, gesturing for him to proceed. "Do as you like."

With a quiet command, the windows of the grand hall were all covered, casting the room in total darkness. In that sealed, pitch-black chamber, Edward activated the imaging crystal.

What followed was a historic event.

For the first time in recorded history, the top minds of the Empire's magical world—the very elites who represented the pinnacle of arcane academia—sat together inside the hallowed Grand Lecture Hall of the Mage Tower… and watched a full-length, hour-and-a-half film.

A film, no less, with the structure and pacing of popular entertainment.

And more than once during the screening, peals of laughter erupted from the room—so loud, in fact, that the patrolling students outside the auditorium jumped in shock, thinking something had gone terribly wrong.