Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

A few minutes earlier...

I blinked through the forest one step at a time, moving in quick bursts from tree to rock to fallen branch. My eyes were sharp, my nerves tighter than ever, scanning every corner for even the faintest trace of Zarah—footprints, bent leaves, anything.

But there was no sign of her. No footprints. No scent trail. Nothing.

”Where the hell did she go?” I muttered, appearing beside a moss-covered tree.

I retraced my path, warping back to the area where I’d fought the trolls. The blood was still fresh, seeping into the soil. But Zarah? Gone. Vanished like smoke.

Panic was creeping in, not loud or sudden, but slow—like a cold hand pressing against the back of my neck. I tried to push it down, but the longer I searched, the more it scratched at my thoughts.

Had she wandered off and gotten lost?

Or worse—had something found her?

No. I shook my head hard. ”Positive thoughts. Focus.”

I took a breath, not even sure when I’d started holding it, and blinked again. And again. Every time I landed, I hoped—just maybe—I’d spot her through the trees. A flash of brown skin. That handmade bow. Something.

But each time, it was just more forest.

And that’s when I realized something important.

This skill—[Warp]

It was becoming clear why this was ranked SSS.

It was ridiculous.

It cost nothing

. No mana drain. No stamina penalty. I could use it infinitely, as long as I had somewhere to land and the will to think it through. The only true limit?My imagination.

With this skill, my prospects of survival and dominance would grow.

But what good was that if I couldn’t protect the people that mattered?

Frustration boiled in my gut.

Still no Zarah.

My gut was twisting now.

I knew she was strong, smarter than most of the goblins I’d met, but the forest didn’t care. If something had gotten to her, I might already be too late. And worst of all... I wouldn’t even know where to find her body.

I stopped beside a boulder, glancing upward.

And then it hit me—I needed height.

I needed perspective.

I bent my knees and warped up, twenty feet into the air, before gravity could catch me, I blinked again. Then again. It was like climbing invisible stairs, teleporting higher and higher, each blink chaining off the last.

Not flying exactly, but close enough.

When I reached the canopy, the forest sprawled below me like a breathing sea of green and black. Moonlight poured down in silver shafts. From up here, I could see more than just trees—I could see shapes moving.

Monsters.

Lurking in the foliage. Creatures I didn’t have names for. Insects the size of dogs, serpents coiled around branches, even something that looked like a six-eyed wolf with wings.

But still no Zarah.

I swallowed hard.

What if... what if I was too late?

What if I’d been blinking past her body this whole time?

”No,” I said under my breath. ”Think straight. Don’t spiral.”

I was about to blink again when something shifted.

The air changed—heavier somehow, like the world was warning me to stay still.

Then I heard it.

A sound that didn’t belong—low, guttural, like a car engine trying to purr.

Then a roar. Then a snarl. Something was fighting.

I warped sideways across the treetops, following the sounds. Branches blurred beneath me as I blinked forward—three, four, five times—then dropped low and warped down into the clearing.

What I saw made my blood freeze.

The young troll I’d fought earlier—the one who’d actually been brave enough to attack me—was kneeling, blood leaking from dozens of cuts across its chest and arms. Its breathing was shallow, ragged.

And standing in front of it was a predator.

Not just a predator. A nightmare.

It moved like a panther, black fur so dark it shimmered blue under the moonlight. Muscles rippled with every step. Eyes gleamed with cruel intelligence.

[Mooncat – Level 15]

The name flashed in my view like a warning label.

Fifteen.

That was seven levels above me.

Did I care? Not one bit.

Because then I saw who it was stalking.

Zarah.

She stood at the edge of the clearing, hands trembling as she fired arrow after arrow at the beast. Each shot missed or grazed it, barely slowing it down.

My heart dropped.

And in that instant, my brain tossed out logic like garbage. Power levels, combat advantage, skill cooldowns—it all vanished.

The only thing I could see was her standing alone, cornered, and about to be torn apart.

The person who’d stood beside me, who believed in me enough to charge into this hellhole alone. Who was willing to risk everything to protect a future we hadn’t even built yet.

The Mooncat’s muscles under its sleek skin coiled, and in the blink of an eye, it lunged.

Zarah let out a cry and fell, the mooncat about to bite.

In that moment, I saw red and blinked.

The world stretched, shimmered—and I appeared beside the beast just as it opened its jaws over her.

With everything I had, I drove my leg into its ribs.

BAM!

My foot slammed into its ribs like a battering ram, and the impact sent it sprawling to the side, crashing through a bush and skidding across the dirt.

The mooncat didn’t yowl, didn’t make a sound, it just landed, rolled, and rose in a smooth motion, turning its glowing yellow eyes to me, surprised—not by the hit, but by my presence.

My hand reached into my inventory, gripping the cold hilt of Gravefang, and I drew the blade with a sharp whisper of steel.

My body trembled, not from fear, but fury.

And I snarled, raising my blade, voice sharp with emotion.

”You piece of shit,” I spat, stepping between the beast and Zarah. ”You’ll pay for touching my wife.”

The blade hummed in my grip, its edge pulsing with faint green light. I could feel the anger boiling through me; I didn’t care if it was smarter, stronger, faster. It had crossed a line, and lines like that don’t get forgiven.

The Mooncat lowered itself, tail swaying like a whip.

I could tell it found my challenge amusing.

But I wasn’t here to amuse it.

I was here for...