When Adventurers raise their weapons, unanimously, against their own Guild, it spoke badly of the Guild management.

Here, the Senior Officer could have retracted his backing of the goblin, apologized to the Adventurers, taken responsibility for the affair in his own name (instead of the Guild's). But he did not.

He couldn't explain why but he had become wild with pique. He wanted revenge for some reason. If a battle broke out here, he even hoped that he or another member of the staff suffered injury, so that he could take legal action against the Adventurers.

The goblin had in the meantime set its hand on the grip of its sword. The weapon was still in its scabbard, but the sign was clear to the Adventurers. The calm dignity with which the goblin had performed the action aggravated them more.

Soon, the Drunken Adventurer could not resist.

"This joke ends here!" (he declared)

And swung his sword.

His sword was one of the largest in the guild. The smith that had fashioned it had fashioned it to be particularly wide, so that it could double as a shield against larger monsters. He could not feel it slicing the goblin's neck, but he did not expect to...

In any case he soon heard the familiar thunk of a monster's head hitting the ground.

Despite his drunkenness, he'd managed to hit his mark on the first try. Adventurers often heard rumors of each other's performance, but only rarely would they see their colleagues in action without forming a party. Here was one of the few times his colleagues could catch a glimpse of his sword skills in action and he was glad he did well. While a sword that size was suitable for large monsters, swinging it at a precise target was harder than it looked.

In the aftermath of his swing, his body should be twisted in a sculptural pose, his muscles taut from the weight of the swing. At such a moment even a drunkard would be bequeathed the grace of a hero.

As shadows filled the edges of his vision, and tones of shock filled the air above his head, he wondered how cool he looked at that moment...

Three Adventurers stood before the goblin, who carefully slid its sword back into its sheath.

Two Adventurers backed away from the threshold of the Offices and toward the tavern.

The headless corpse of the Drunken Adventurer, carried off to the side by the momentum of the greatsword, rolled about a few times before settling at the foot of one of the Reception desks.

"How dare you!" (the Sober Friend, as a horrible wheezing sound emitted from the hole in the corpse's neck) "How dare you!"

He was the first to react.

It was somewhat illogical but he seemed insulted by the idea that the goblin was stronger that it appeared. Goblins were supposed to be weak after all. He waved his staff threateningly, as if daring the monster to pounce. It should have been clear to everyone that he had lost his calm. However no one around him could think clearly enough to restrain him.

Adventurers pride themselves on their presence of mind in danger. But outbreaks of violence in the wilderness was something quite different from outbreaks of violence in one's own home or sanctuary.

"How dare you! You trickster, you lying sophist, pretending to be strong...? Taking advantage of drunkenness in men...? of human frailty...? of humanity...?" (Sober Friend)

As he ranted, he readied spells between breaths.

The very possibility that the goblin could be seen by others as strong, as worthy of matriculation into the Guild, seemed to constitute a direct insult to him. It was rare to see the Sober Friend get angry, but when he became angry, he lost his sense of consequences.

A specialist in wind magic, he delivered a pair of cutting spells, one of them slicing the arm of a fellow Adventurer as it flew toward the goblin.

His next and stronger spell (which would have destroyed part of the building) was cut short, as he found himself face-first with the ground. He realized his legs had been damaged, but in his adrenaline he didn't care. He was even glad to see that he didn't care. He would let himself go for the sake of his rage. Only when he realized that the tip of a blade had pierced his hand, preventing him from using anymore his staff, did screams of pain come from him.

The other Adventurers backed away pointlessly. Pointlessly, as they had not even been able to react to the goblin's movements in the first place. Pointlessly, also, because the goblin had not threatened them. They could see that they were not in danger unless they continued keeping up their weapons. They saw that the goblin only reacted when attacked, that it was acting in accordance to some code of honor (or at least simulating honorable conduct...). But years of fighting monsters, together with the shock of seeing a goblin this skilled, made them irrationally unable to put down their weapons.

"Yada yada" (thought Yutaka to himself)

During all of this, the God had not interfered even to instruct His "character" what to do. There was no need to. The goblin had played this scene many times before. And as before, it had been confronted, rejected, harassed in turn.

Yutaka, from the hiding spot of a God, nestled between the shoulderblades his pet goblin, could see where things were headed. He only wondered what would happen if the entire City turned against them. This was the first time they'd set foot in a larger City. And though Ayame the goblin was strong, there would be A-rank Adventurers here that were capable of dispatching it.

His musings were interrupted by the voice of the Receptionist who they had first solicited, who now behaved very surprisingly:

Perhaps because she had read the testimony of the Captain beforehand, and tempered her expectations accordingly, she was better prepared for the situation wherein she now found herself.

"Hold yourselves! The goblin has acted according to the honor of men. It cannot be blamed for defending itself, nor for the death or injury of assailants in its self-defense. Its weapon is still sheathed. With incredible forbearance, it has shown its gleaming blade only for so long as was necessary to subjugate its enemies, and not a second more. Throughout this ordeal, it has conducted itself with respect to the order of the world! Can it be trusted? That's something I don't know at this point in time. But the death of Usan" (gesturing to the corpse of the Drunken Adventurer) "falls upon his own shoulders, instigating violence against a fellow member of the Guild. And as for Lancet" (glancing at the Sober Friend, who had been cut off at his knees, moaning in agony for the duration of her speech) "...he was about to destroy our Offices with the abuse of his magic."

"Yeah, it was totally irresponsible of him to do that." (agreed Ailena, one of the bystanders) "He cut my arm as well when he cast his wind blades. If that went three or four inches to the right, it could have ended my Adventuring career!"

"Yeah, yeah..." (Everyone agreed)

One by one, looking at what everyone else was doing, they put down their weapons.

"What about Usan...! Your own kind...! Betrayed...!" (Lancet, grimacing on the floor)

"He deserved it."

"It's his own responsibility. If he attacked me, I would have done the same."

"Usan's death can't be taken back." (the Receptionist) "But it can be made less dishonorable. This goblin has shown its worth in three ways: in the violet of the crystal, in the test of a duel, and in the character of its conduct. Though right now it seems like Usan couldn't have died in a more ridiculous way, his death can still be made good. With the accomplishments this goblin attains, Usan's name will be enshrined by the eminence of his conqueror. There's no shame in being defeated by someone famous!"

"Precisely what I was trying to tell them!" (Senior Guild Official) "Precisely what I was trying to tell them! Now listen up everyone. Let's have the rule of order resume in this establishment. Someone help us clean up. Don't looked so shocked. You're hardened Adventurers aren't you? Come, someone quiet him down. Julia, can you get a healer from next door? Look at all this blood. Come on sir, sorry about the disruption. We'll get you all registered in a minute."

Slowly, Adventurers returned to their seats in the tavern and something approaching calm was restored in the establishment.

"We did it Ayame!" (a little voice from between the goblin's bony scapula) "We did it!"