Re-written date: 7 / 13 / 2025
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Chapter 49: Actors in Position
Since the DVD version of the imaging crystal hadn't been invented yet, Goblin Slayer would, naturally, be another live-action film. Because of this, Edward once again had to adapt the entire story into a movie format from scratch. He deleted scenes that didn't contribute to the main plot and compressed the story into roughly two hours. Although it was longer than KonoSuba, it also took more liberties with the source material—compressing all twelve episodes of the original into a single film.
To ensure the plot could still maintain a movie's pacing and cohesion, Edward cut most of the flashbacks and slice-of-life moments. He even localized the "Water Town" arc, adapting it to suit the northern territory' geography. After all, it wasn't like he could go digging an entire underground sewer system just for the sake of a film.
In short, this finalized script was something Edward had spent a great deal of time and effort refining. And now, with preparations finished, he handed out printed copies to every cast member and extra involved in the shoot.
As expected, the moment they started reading the scripts, the entire room fell into silence.
The moment they turned to page one, the cold slap of bloody realism hit them like a blade. Even the most battle-hardened among them felt a chill crawl down their spine. Then came the relentless pace—one brutal, heart-pounding event after another, without even a moment to breathe. It was addicting.
Most of the adventurers here had read those mass-market "hero adventure novels" from the Capital—those tired stories about noble, overpowered protagonists slaying dragons, saving princesses, and racking up fame. They were jaded. Bored.
But this?
This was different.
This was raw.
This was a protagonist who didn't hesitate. Who didn't waste time talking. Who didn't fight for glory or girls or gold. Just a single purpose: to kill goblins. Ruthlessly. Without mercy.
Page after page, they read on, almost entranced.
By the time they reached the final act—the siege at the protagonist's farm, with a horde of goblins closing in from every direction—even the more seasoned adventurers were gripping their scripts tight, their knuckles white.
Sure, goblins were weak. Everyone knew that. But what if it wasn't you they came for?
What if it was your home? Your friends? Your family?
What if, after becoming a dragon-slaying hero, you returned to your village only to find it overrun by cunning, bloodthirsty goblins?
The fear hit different. Because that could happen. And that was the brilliance of the story.
Edward's script wasn't just a story. It was a warning. A wake-up call.
And for these adventurers, it hit harder than any battle they'd fought.
One of them—barely able to contain himself after flipping the last page—murmured, "Can I… keep this script? I wanna pass it down to my son. He needs to read this."
That comment sparked a round of laughter. But the moment he realized what he'd said, and that everyone had heard him, his face turned beet red.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax. They're turning this into a movie. You can show it to your kid in theaters."
Even the northern territory adventurers—who'd never even heard of movies before—were now fully immersed, their blood pumping with excitement. This… this movie thing? It might be worth getting into after all.
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After everyone had finished reading the script, Edward wasted no time.
He moved on to what he called "actor training."
—Or more accurately, "applying buffs."
Fortunately, things went far better than expected. Despite their rough-and-tumble personalities and their complete lack of acting experience, the adventurers were surprisingly easy to work with.
Their facial expressions might not be subtle, but with a little suggestion spell, they were able to get into character almost immediately.
Or perhaps more accurately, they were simply being themselves—just exaggerated slightly to fit the scene.
And for Edward, that was more than enough.
Once the adventurers fully forgot they were acting, their portrayal of their characters became so natural that it actually exceeded what Edward remembered from trained professional actors.
With the main roles all cast, Edward found that nearly every character in the film now had an appropriate actor. This even included the later additions to the protagonist's party: the elf, the dwarf, and the lizardman. Thanks to the sheer number and high quality of adventurers in the northern territory—as well as Eliza's tireless efforts—he'd even been able to track down suitable non-human adventurers.
Well… sort of.
After a bit of conversation, Edward learned the truth. The "elf" adventurer was actually a half-elf with human blood. The "lizardman" was just a beastkin who'd undergone some sort of mutation. After all, due to the Empire's steadily deteriorating relationship with the Beastkin Kingdom over the past few years, ties with all demi-human races had weakened. It was nearly impossible to find pure-blooded non-humans within imperial borders. Only beastkin or demi-humans with partial human ancestry could still get by—and even then, just barely.
Their lives weren't easy. Outside of the northern territory, where strength was respected above all else, most beastkin had no place to belong. It reminded Edward of why Lawrence had always told that Beastkin girl to stay home and avoid going outside.
Meanwhile, a different kind of drama was unfolding.
When Edward informed Eliza—who'd assumed she wouldn't need to act—that she'd be playing the role of the Sword Maiden, her reaction was... dramatic, to say the least.
"Director Durin, you want me to play the Sword Maiden? But I'm really not suited for it—I can't act at all!"
Edward simply grinned and replied, "Does anyone here look like they can act? Come on, Eliza. To me, you're the perfect Sword Maiden. No one else comes close—your appearance, your presence, your vibe. You were born for this role!"
"B-but…"
Eliza stood frozen, at a complete loss. She couldn't find the words to express just how much she didn't want to play this part. But Edward, as always, had the final say.
"Have you already forgotten what you told me?" he said with a calm smile. "That you'd do anything to help make this movie? And now you're backing out just because I'm asking you to play a part? Honestly, I'm a little disappointed…"
"Ugh— F-fine— I'll do it— I'll act, okay—?"
She finally gave in.
And while Edward knew he probably shouldn't take too much joy in watching the beautiful Guild Master get all flustered and cornered like that, he couldn't help but feel a tiny, slightly sadistic thrill. Was this how being a dom felt? he wondered, he then immediately shook the thought from his head.
Nope. Bad thoughts. Back to work.
Clapping his hands for attention, Edward turned to the group and said, "Alright, everyone. I want you all to take some time to really understand the role you've been given. Learn your lines, know your character. I'm expecting nothing less than your best on set."
As his voice trailed off, all the actors—including the recently arrived Saeki, who had finally gotten his custom armor—flipped through their individual scripts with focused expressions, slowly easing into their respective roles.
And while Goblin Slayer was getting ready to begin filming in the North, back in the South, the previously released KonoSuba had just begun to cause a ripple effect of its own.