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Goblin Chapter 232: Fate... Meeting the Temporary Teammate, Shadow...
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 14:03:25 +0000 UTCSerandur’s return wasn’t much later than they’d expected.
At dawn the next morning, he slipped back into his own room without a sound.
His return was as low-key as his departure—like he’d only stepped out for a morning walk. When Gauss found him, he was seated upright with his tail coiled beneath him on a simple mat in the middle of the room, cradling a silver statuette of a coiled serpent—the Lady of Hidden Scales he worshiped—its head and tail joined into a perfect ring.
Gauss didn’t interrupt.
Serandur only performed a ritual like this in town at daybreak; when they were out on contracts, it wasn’t part of the schedule, so Gauss didn’t often see him meditate. A delicate fragrance from special incense hung in the room, settling the mind. On the bedside table sat a few small vials and bundles of herbs laid out to dry.
Serandur finished his morning prayer; his pale-gold slit pupils opened.
Seeing Gauss there didn’t surprise him—he was praying, not dead. With his sharp sense of smell, he’d noticed Gauss the moment he stepped in.
“Breakthrough go well?”
“Mm. Very smoothly.” Serandur nodded. His expression was mild as ever, but if you looked closely, you could see his good mood in the little tells.
“Good.”
Every level matters to an adventurer—especially when you’re stuck on a bottleneck. The longer you stall, the more anxiety and self-doubt eat at you, shaking your confidence and your faith in your path.
So you often see two outcomes in this line of work. Either someone charges ahead, breaking through again and again, growing ever more certain and carving out a name. Or they lose their drive in endless stagnation, and a key wall stops them for life. They watch latecomers pass them by; their grand ambitions get ground down by reality; they numb themselves with routine, drink, and bragging—or they refuse to accept it, take a reckless job beyond their means, and never return.
Serandur’s case was never that dire, but that invisible wall had weighed on him for a while. With the knot untied, it was like the view ahead had opened up. Even his prayer felt calmer this morning.
“Right—there’s something to run by you,” Gauss said, getting to the point once he saw all was well.
As he had with Alia, he used Message to clearly relay the non-public commission about the Blackfang expedition force.
The room went quiet; in the soft incense, the two traded a rapid, silent exchange.
Before long, Alia arrived to join them.
The three dug into the commission in detail.
After a good while, Gauss clapped his hands. “All right—decision for now: after breakfast, we’ll go to the guild and give them a clear answer. Then we meet the other party.”
Alia and Serandur nodded.
…
Lincrown Town.
Second floor of the Adventurers’ Guild, a meeting room.
The senior director sat straight in his chair. “Mr. Gauss, you’d like to meet the other party first, then decide whether to accept. Is that right?”
“If possible, please.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. If I remember right, she arrived in town a few days ago, but she’s only come by the guild once. I’ll have someone send word and see if she’s free today.”
He called in a staffer and handed off the task.
Moments later, a raptor’s keen cry sounded. Gauss, sipping tea, glanced at the bright floor-to-ceiling window. An owl cut across the sky toward some quarter of town.
Faster than he’d expected.
“Her place isn’t far; we should hear back soon. If she’s busy today, we’ll have to reschedule.”
“We’ll wait here,” Gauss said.
With no urgent errands, he, Alia, and Serandur sat with tea to pass the time. Staff brought dried fruit, snacks, and a few things to read.
Gauss picked a book at random. He’d barely read a few pages when a knock came at the door.
It was abrupt—no one, not Gauss or Alia or Serandur, had heard footsteps beforehand.
“The temp?” Gauss set the book down and looked toward the door. It was awfully fast, like she’d been loitering at the guild entrance and walked up the moment she got the note.
“That quick?”
Seemed unlikely.
Creak—
The handle turned.
A tall, lean figure stepped in.
“—Huh?!”
Gauss’s eyes widened. He met the woman’s gaze. Both looked equally surprised.
“You again?”
“It’s you?”
The woman in crisp, fitted gear backed up to check the room number on the plaque, confirmed she hadn’t got the wrong door, and came back in.
“Well now, what a coincidence,” the senior director said with a smile, adjusting his glasses. “You two know each other?”
“No,” the woman cut in first.
She played it cool, walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat.
[Great. Your temp teammate’s going to think you’re a thief.]
Unseen by the others, her shadow wriggled at her feet, sending a teasing thought.
Her lips pressed together a fraction. Gauss would absolutely recognize her as the one from that night. She just hoped he wouldn’t bring it up here—that would be mortifying.
“We crossed paths at the market a few days ago,” Gauss said evenly, smoothing things over. “And happened to bump into each other on the street yesterday.”
It answered the director’s question—and quietly filled in his teammates.
Alia nodded; she’d half-assumed this woman was an old acquaintance of Gauss’s.
“Heh. All the better,” the director chuckled, dropping it. “Introductions, anyway. This is Miss Shadow, a very capable roamer. And this is Gauss, a talented young mage. This is…”
He opened, then left them to it, stepping out to other work.
Silence settled over the room; something subtle threaded the air.
Serandur, taciturn by nature, rarely started conversations—especially with strangers. Alia’s eyes flicked back and forth between Gauss and the woman named Shadow. Shadow herself felt a twinge of guilt: she knew she’d been doing a good deed that night, but Gauss couldn’t know that. If she jumped in to explain, it would look like a guilty conscience.
In the end, Gauss spoke first. “Miss… Shadow, right?”
“Mm.” Shadow nodded, expressionless.
“You’re a roamer? Mind sharing your level?” The moment he saw her, Gauss had mentally bumped her up a peg. Willingness to help the weak usually meant someone wasn’t all bad—though it didn’t guarantee they were good to team with.
“More or less. Level 5,” Shadow said succinctly.
Level wasn’t worth hiding if they were going to work together; they’d learn soon enough. As for her exact subclass, she wasn’t going to lay everything out for people she’d just met.
“More or less?” Gauss had been mildly hung up on that hedge—until the “Level 5” landed. He couldn’t help the flicker of surprise.
The guild matched them with a Level 5?
Mainly, she looked so young. Whatever her true age, she likely wasn’t old; Gauss could read the difference in her bearing. A Level 5 that young wasn’t common.
Which… made him a little conflicted. Stronger teammates are better on paper, sure. But now their “paper strength” looked thin; their ranking anchor Serandur had only just cracked Level 4. Gauss knew his real combat power was well above Level 3—but it didn’t change the fact that the temp just became the highest-level member of the party.
A bit awkward. Still, he’d asked—so he introduced them properly.
“I’m a Level 3 mage. This is Serandur, Level 4 priest. Alia’s a Level 2 druid. Our levels aren’t high, but our actual combat power is solid.”
As expected, a flash of surprise crossed Shadow’s face at his level, then vanished.
“No problem. If we confirm the team-up, I can follow your lead.”
[Not even going to contest command? You’re the highest level here.] her shadow needled.
Shadow pretended not to hear. Having a shadow you can chat with does stave off loneliness—but it comes with downsides. Like the occasional terrible idea. She hadn’t teamed much, but she knew: as a temp, even if you’re stronger, the best move is to follow the existing command.
Besides, Gauss felt… unusual.
Gauss let out a quiet breath. She’d kept a blank face since she came in; he’d half-expected arrogance. But in this short exchange, she just seemed sparse with words, not antisocial.
“Ahead of time—thanks for the trust,” Gauss said with a nod. “Let’s go over the details.”
He spread the dossier on the table—the director had handed it over before leaving.
“I’m sure the guild already briefed you. Blackfang is good with beasts. Even if this is only an expedition detachment, if it has their fingerprints, we may still face wolf cavalry, maybe small flying cavalry.”
“And as the scout class, you’ll carry a lot of the early pressure, Miss Shadow. You’re the most likely to make first contact.”
“No problem,” Shadow said. Here, she sounded very sure of herself.
With a baseline in place, Gauss took them deeper: prep, routes, combat coordination—nearly an hour of talk. “Talk” was generous; he did most of it, with the occasional add-in from Serandur and Alia. Shadow was the quietest by far, almost icy on the surface.
“So—we have a preliminary agreement?” Gauss summed up, looking at Shadow. During the talk, he’d also used Message to get quick consensus from Alia and Serandur. They both had a good impression of Shadow.
“All right. I’ll be in your care,” Shadow said, rising with a small bow.
With everything set, the four left the room and formally took the special non-public commission from the senior director.
The deadline was longer than Gauss expected: two months. Given how long it had been since the survey team disappeared, the odds of survivors were slim. The focus would be on investigating the cause and cleaning out Blackfang’s foothold. A long window made sense; the last team had spent a month and found nothing. They needed to be ready for a long haul.
Outside the guild, they agreed to meet at dawn the next day at the guild entrance. Shadow waved and the team split up.
Watching her go, Alia murmured, “She doesn’t say much. But she seems… decent.”
Give most people an hour or two face-to-face and you can sketch their temperament—unless they’re very deep and practiced. Serandur nodded. Silence was a good sign; it meant she was unlikely to boss their team around. As long as Gauss led, he didn’t mind a temp slot.
“We’ll see tomorrow,” Gauss said, leading them back toward the inn. He and Shadow had agreed: they’d run a few routine local contracts first. Odd, given their team strength—but a fine way to build rhythm.
Elsewhere, Shadow’s darkness kept “chatting.”
[Didn’t expect you two to have such fate.]
“True.” Shadow nodded, privately debating whether to find a chance to casually drop the real story behind that night for Gauss. She’d been wrestling with it the whole meeting and still hadn’t found a good angle.
[He does look good. Bit low on level, though. Otherwise—perfect pair.]
“Tru— What are you even saying, Shayde?” Shadow’s foot pressed lightly on her own silhouette.
[Ow! What was that for—getting shy?]
“Not talking to you.”
[Jokes aside, that mage Gauss is interesting. Only Level 3, but he didn’t flinch at all in front of you. Calm, composed. Maybe you should…]
“Let’s finish this commission first.”
She didn’t shoot it down outright; she’d noticed that steadiness in Gauss that ran beyond his rank.
[And the commission? You think it’s really that simple? Blackfang expedition, missing survey team… feels like a warning—or a challenge.]
“Could just be the start.”
[And you still want in?]
“That’s exactly why we should.”
…
The next morning, the temporary four-person team met at the guild doors—and, to many baffled stares, Gauss walked in calmly with his three teammates and started discussing the routine-job board.
You’ve got to be kidding.
The rank-and-file were used to this “freak” who’d been snatching the same postings as them lately. They just hadn’t expected him to double down—bringing teammates.
And then they saw the tall woman with a badge showing five six-pointed stars.
Jaw, meet floor.
No way. A Level 5 Professional—here to mop up nickel-and-dime jobs?
People rubbed their eyes on the sly to make sure they weren’t miscounting. But no matter how many times they checked—five bright, piercing stars.
Absurd.
How were they supposed to compete for the same “work” as a Level 5? Did that make sense?
As the rank-and-file stared, a few loud, easy voices rolled up from behind.
“This goblin count’s a bit low—what, only twenty-odd?”
“Boss, it’s a routine job. Twenty-plus is already a lot.”
“My bad. Been too long since I’ve set foot in a place like this.”
They turned and saw another group swagger in—Bronze badges on their chests as well—with more badged figures drifting in behind.
More heavy hitters?
The rank-and-file felt the sky falling.
Since when did Professionals start competing with us for bread—and, judging by the chatter, target goblin jobs just like Gauss the Goblin Slayer?
If you hit Professional and still came back to run routine contracts… how were they different from us?
What was the point of trying?
Was the adventurer endgame just… killing goblins?
Maybe they’d all been taking the long way ‘round for decades.
