Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

I remained standing over her, my fist still clenched tight, my shadow falling across her small, trembling form. She writhed weakly and spat another spray of blood into the dirt, the metallic tang sharp in the night air.

”You brought this upon yourself, fox,” I said, my voice flat, without triumph or pity. ”I wouldn’t have resorted to this if you hadn’t dared to threaten my clan.”

Her head tilted up, eyes swimming with pain but not surrender. The molten gold of her gaze still burned, unyielding, as though pride alone could shield her from what I’d already proven true.

Even broken, even beaten into the dirt, Ariel glared at me with that same stubborn defiance.

She hadn’t learned.

I raised my fist, intent on ending it, but before I could bring the blow down she lashed out with one last surge of will. From where she lay broken, Ariel released a desperate burst of blue flame, the fire rolling toward me in a furious wave.

It hit square against my chest, yet [Fractured Existence] stirred instantly, the distortion twisting the attack apart. The fire broke across my form like water against stone, scattering in harmless streams that hissed out into the dirt around us.

”What a stubborn brat,” I muttered, my voice low, more weary than angry now.

I drew my arm back and drove my fist down. The impact struck true, a deep crack splitting through the ground beneath her as her small frame buckled under the weight of the blow. I heard bones snap—a brittle, sickening sound that cut sharper than her screams.

But I didn’t stop.

The moment her body twitched, still alive, still resisting, I swung again. My knuckles connected with brutal finality, the shock of the strike rippling through my arm as dust leapt from the fractured earth.

Each punch was deliberate, heavy, not wild but measured, each one driving her closer to the edge, each one a reminder that her pride meant nothing in the face of power she couldn’t match.

Then another blow landed, the force jolting up through my arm.

Her small body slackened beneath me. Limbs twitched once, then fell still, her chest rising only in shallow, uneven breaths. She lay there limp, blood matting her fur, flames guttering low like the dying embers of a fire long spent.

I stared down at her, my fist still drawn back. Should I just finish it here? The thought slipped out in a mutter, bitter and quiet. It would be easier—one more strike and she’d never rise again.

I raised my hand higher, knuckles tightening, ready to drive it home.

But then the air shifted.

A ripple crawled up my spine, sharp and cold, every nerve prickling with a sudden, suffocating weight. The familiar dread of [Danger Sense] coiled around me, spiraling tighter and tighter until my instincts screamed in unison: Stop.

And then the system answered.

[Warning: Your bonded beast is in danger. If she dies, you will die as well.]

My breath hitched, my fist hovering inches from her skull. The force I’d meant to put behind it bled away, my arm trembling as I froze, held captive by the cruel logic of the bond.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, heavy and half-lidded, their molten glow dulled by exhaustion and blood loss. She looked up at me, dazed but still alive, her chest rising with shallow, shuddering effort.

Then her mouth parted, and she whispered weakly, the sound more breath than voice.

”Why... did you stop? Do it.”

For a moment, my fist still hovered above her, but I couldn’t bring it down. It wasn’t mercy that stayed my hand, not pity either. This was something else. A weight that pressed down on me like a blade poised at my own throat.

It wasn’t like the first time I had a chance to kill her, back when she had been battered by the Badger. Then, hesitation had come from instinct—a flicker of doubt, maybe even curiosity. But this... this was different.

This time, I felt death itself closing in, as if finishing her would also mean sealing my own end.

With a slow breath, I withdrew my fist, lowering it to my side. The ground beneath us was still cracked from my blows, dust hanging in the air, and she lay amidst it all, trembling, bloodied, yet eerily calm—as though she had truly been prepared to accept her end.

But the bond wouldn’t let me.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to focus. I needed answers. I needed to know why.

”[Analyze],” I commanded, and the system obeyed.

A stream of text shimmered into view before my eyes, each word sharp, undeniable.

Name: ArielTitle: Three-tailed Ember FoxRace: Ember FoxLevel: 15Status: Bonded ~ [Bond Information]Loyalty: 002 / 100Skills: [Blazing Mirage], [Ember Quills], [Infernal Tornado], [Heal], [Recovery]

On seeing her status window, my face twisted in disbelief.

I hadn’t even considered her level before—too focused on the fight, on her tricks and flames. But there it was, staring back at me in cold, glowing text.

Level 15.

My eyes flicked from the panel to the small, bloodied fox lying in the dirt. I couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that pushed at my chest.

Was she serious? Did she actually think she could take me down at level fifteen?

For a moment, I almost wanted to call her insane. But then again, I couldn’t dismiss her entirely. She did have skills that let her fight above her weight, weaving illusions and firestorms that could rattle someone unprepared.

In her own way, she fought like she belonged higher.

But so did I.

Even though I was only level twenty-nine, my stats were already climbing into the range of someone far higher, sharpened by every boost and pushed even further by the sheer number of overpowered skills I had collected along the way. On paper, we weren’t even close to the same league.

Of course, she didn’t know that. She couldn’t.

Ignorance had carried her into this fight, and ignorance had been her undoing.

My gaze shifted back to...