Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

But if we were going to survive—hell, thrive—they needed tools. Real ones.

I opened my system window and navigated to the [Skill Share] tab.

Ding!

A notification popped up:

[Would you like to transfer your skills to your goblin?]

[Yes] or [No]

I tapped [Yes].

Another prompt appeared.

[Which skill would you like to transfer?]

Passive Skills: [Analyze (N)] [Iron Fist (E)] [Roar of Intimidation (C)] [Finder (N)]

Active Skills: [Stealth (C)] [Mana Shield (B)] [Flame Orb (C)] [Warcry (C)]

I paused for a moment, thinking it through. No point giving everyone the same thing.

Still, for a future shaman?

I selected [Mana Shield], [Flame Orb], and [Warcry].

Ding!

[Which goblin would you like to transfer it to?]

[Members:[Flogga] [Zarah] [Thok] [Narg] [Dribb] [Gobbo] [Zonk] [Snib] [Krosh] [Zox] ]

I selected both Flogga and Narg.

They had the highest mana reserves in the clan, at least from what I’d seen. It made sense—the skills would benefit them the most.

Narg had the potential. He was still weak, sure, but if he could harness magic properly, that staff wouldn’t just be a symbol—it’d be a deadly weapon.

As for Flogga, she might be old and not much of a fighter, but she was one of our clan’s greatest assets. Knowledgeable, experienced, and wise in ways most of the younger goblins couldn’t grasp. If something ever happened and she was left defenseless... I didn’t want to think about that.

[Would you like to transfer the selected skills to Flogga and Narg?]

[Yes] or [No]

I confirmed with a nod and tapped [Yes].

Ding!

[Skill successfully shared]

[You can unshare these skills at any time.]

Hmm... Recalling the skills—was that something I’d ever actually need to do?

I tried to imagine a scenario that would force my hand. Maybe if the skill caused an unexpected side effect... or if a goblin used it recklessly, for something I didn’t condone. Worse...if they betrayed me?

The thought made my stomach tighten.

I really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I didn’t want to deal with the fallout of something like that, not from one of my own.

Still, a question lingered.

With a loyalty stat of 100, was betrayal possible?

It felt like a contradiction. But then again, stats were numbers. Real life was messier. Loyalty might be a feeling today and a regret tomorrow.

Could someone be 100% loyal and still stab you in the back?

I didn’t know. And I sincerely hoped I’d never have to find out.

Narg gasped the moment the skill took hold, his eyes going wide as both hands lifted in awe. Then his gaze snapped to me—sharp, grateful, almost reverent. He understood exactly where the power had come from.

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead to the ground.

Hard.

”Whoa!” I jumped back slightly, raising both an arm and a leg in alarm.

The sound of skull meeting earth was sickening.

He cried:

”Chief...” his voice cracked, a mix of gratitude and desperation.”Thank you for trusting me. I won’t fail you!”

The intensity in his voice was raw—almost too much.

I cleared my throat, feeling more than a little awkward under the weight of his emotion. ”I’m putting a lot of trust in you, Narg. Don’t give me a reason to regret it.”

”Yes, Chief. I swear it.”

Narg raised his head, nodding with unwavering enthusiasm.

Sure enough, blood was dripping from his forehead

Not that he seemed to care.

He was grinning like a kid handed his first weapon, eyes shining with pride.

I let out a quiet sigh and decided not to stop there.

If I were going to give them a fighting chance, I might as well go all in.

I opened the Skillshare window again and selected a new set:

[Iron Fist], [Stealth], [Danger Sense], [Roar of Intimidation]

Then I selected all the goblins in the clan to receive them.

They might not be able to use Stealth effectively yet, but once they leveled up, they’d grow into it. Iron Fist would sharpen their hand-to-hand combat instincts, giving them more force behind their strikes, especially helpful since most of them fought with whatever they could get their hands on.

As for Danger Sense?

That skill had already saved my life more than once—during the troll ambush, and again in the Mooncat encounter. It gave me a kind of instinctive pulse before things went south. The kind of awareness you couldn’t teach, only feel.

If it worked half as well for them as it did for me, they’d be able to dodge sneak attacks, sense traps, and stay alive.

That was the goal.

[Would you like to transfer these skills to the selected targets?]

”Yes,” I replied.

A few seconds passed.

[Skills successfully shared.][You may unshare the transferred skills at any time.]

Narg let out another audible gasp, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The rest of the goblins, who had been busy sorting through weapons, froze. One by one, they stared down at their hands as if something divine had just touched them. A few flexed their fingers. Another jabbed the air experimentally, blinking in awe.

”Chief... Totem,” one of them murmured.

The others echoed it under their breath.

I could already tell what was coming—they were about to drop to their knees again in some kind of worship. I quickly raised a hand to stop them.

”That’s enough,” I said firmly. ”You’re welcome. But this isn’t charity.”

Their movements stilled.

”I gave you these skills for a reason. From now on, your mission is simple: level up. Grow stronger. Smarter. Deadlier. Don’t waste what you’ve been given.”

”Yes, Chief!” they responded in unison, voices full of energy.

”Alright then,” I said, cracking my neck. ”Gather up the weapons—quick. We’ve got hunting to do.”

The goblins didn’t waste a second. They scrambled with renewed enthusiasm, picking through the area and scooping up whatever weapons were usable. Spears, jagged blades, broken axes—anything that looked like it could kill or maim was added to the pile.

Even Narg, despite the blood still trickling from his forehead, joined in with a massive grin plastered across his face. He moved with a kind of giddy excitement, like a kid who’d just been handed a new toy.

I gave a small nod of approval.

The skills I’d transferred were already having an effect. They weren’t just stronger—they were more focused, more driven. That spark in their eyes? That was motivation, and I could use that.

Maybe I’d make this a habit: share a new skill whenever a goblin achieves something significant. Promotion through power. It was a reward system they’d understand.

After a few more minutes, the goblins had gathered all the usable weapons and stacked them neatly into a pile. Some were rusted, others chipped, but for a goblin, a weapon was a weapon.

I had each of them pick a weapon they felt suited them best. Once they’d made their choices, I stored the rest in my inventory for later use.

Then I took a step back and studied the group standing before me.

They looked... sharper now. More focused.

Narg stood confidently with a staff in hand, his shaman robe and belt giving him an air of authority.

Thok had chosen twin blades, a smart pick. He was faster and more agile than the others so it suited him.

Dribb, the tallest by an inch or two, carried a chipped axe and a dented shield. With his solid build and higher stamina, the role suited him.

Zonk clutched a short spear, holding it with the practiced grip of someone who liked to keep their distance.

Gobbo had opted for a sword and shield—simple, reliable.

We looked like a ragtag adventurer party. Rough around the edges, but dangerous enough.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

”Alright, boys,” I said, pointing toward the tree line at the edge of the clearing. ”Let’s hunt.”