Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

Two and a half days in this world, and already it felt like I had lived through weeks of hardship, uncertainty, and strange discoveries that gnawed at me long after the moments themselves had passed.

The pace at which everything was unfolding left me almost breathless, as though I was constantly sprinting with no finish line in sight, and the thought that there were still countless days ahead — each of them ripe with danger and unknown trials — made the weight of it all settle even heavier on my shoulders.

Who could possibly say what else I would face, or what was destined to happen next?

The uncertainty stalked me like a shadow, yet at the same time it pushed me forward, sharpening my resolve the way a whetstone sharpens steel.

I turned toward Flogga and found her watching me with an expression that seemed carved from patience itself, her lips curled ever so slightly in an amused line, as though she were in on some private joke I had not yet earned the right to understand.

Though she had once been human, the sheer span of years she had endured in this place had long since stripped away the softness of that identity.

Time, cruelty, and survival had reshaped her, leaving behind something both familiar and alien.

She was, in many ways, more goblin than I was — more a creature of this harsh world than I could ever claim to be. And yet, the wisdom in her gaze, the sharpness of her eyes, and the calm way she carried herself made it impossible to dismiss the intelligence that still burned brightly within her.

There was no reason to treat her any differently.

If anything, I should treat her with more regard.

With the truths she had revealed to me and the perspective she carried, she seemed more reliable now than she ever had before, perhaps even indispensable.

She could understand, in ways others never could, the tangled motivations behind my choices, the strange burden of the blessings I carried, and the half-formed truths that pressed me forward whether I wished it or not.

In her, I found not only a voice of experience but a mirror reflecting the consequences of what I might one day become.

So I decided it was finally time to do what I had intended back when I first ordered Flogga to follow me.

But this would not be a matter I shared with her alone. I also needed Narg and Zarah here.

Narg, for all his gruffness and iron-clad presence, had grown into something close to a commander within the clan, a steadying pillar when chaos pressed from all sides. His instincts in battle and his steady faith in me gave him a weight no one else carried.

Zarah, on the other hand, possessed a sharpness of mind that could not be overlooked.

She wasn’t simply quick with a bow; she was quick to see patterns, to connect the threads that others missed, to ask questions that burned where silence might have sufficed.

And no, it wasn’t because I was biased or blinded by any lingering feelings for her — at least, not entirely.

With that decision fixed in my mind, I folded space and warped back to the general area of the cave.

The air shimmered and twisted around me before steadying again, the sensation leaving a faint echo.

I wasted no time.

”Narg, Zarah, to my room,” I ordered, my voice carrying enough weight that I didn’t bother waiting for a reply.

Then I warped back to the chamber in the next instant, settling myself across from Flogga, who remained seated on the ground with that same unreadable calm, her old eyes studying me as though she could already guess what storm I was about to unleash.

A moment later, footsteps approached.

Both Narg and Zarah entered, their eyes scanning the chamber, lingering on me and then on Flogga.

Curiosity flickered across their faces as they tried to piece together what could have brought the four of us together in this way.

I motioned for them to sit.

When they had settled across from me, I drew a steady breath, feeling the weight of their attention pressing in from all sides.

”The reason I brought you here,” I began, my voice level, ”is to brief you on my plan moving forward.”

The words had the effect I expected.

Both Narg and Zarah straightened, their gazes sharpening, while even Flogga, who had already heard enough unusual things from me in the past day, leaned forward ever so slightly.

For that moment, I had all their ears.

”The enemy clan,” I said, each syllable deliberate.

”I intend to take the fight to them.”

The reaction was immediate.

Zarah’s eyes widened, disbelief written plain across her face, while Narg’s grip tightened subtly on his staff, his brow creasing as though trying to measure whether I had finally gone reckless.

Even Flogga, calm as she usually was, allowed the faintest flicker of surprise to show.

”Young totem... how do you intend to do that?” she asked, her voice careful, though curiosity burned beneath it.

Rather than waste words, I chose to show them.

In the blink of an eye, I folded space, reappearing behind Narg and placing my hand on his shoulder before he even realized I had moved.

He flinched, instincts flaring, his hand flying to his staff.

But as he turned and saw me, tension drained from him. His shoulders sagged, his grip loosened, though unease lingered in his eyes.

I allowed a grin to spread across my face as I withdrew my hand.

”You may not realize it,” I said, letting my words hang, ”but I’ve marked each of you with a seal. With it, no matter where you are, I can appear at your side in an instant.”

Flogga’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.

”And you’ve placed this same mark on the enemy?”

”Precisely.”

Narg, realizing what this meant, drew in a sharp breath, awe creeping into his voice.

”Wow... as expected of the chief.”

The heat that rose to my face was almost embarrassing, and I fought the urge to look away. His praise struck harder than I expected, and though I masked it with steady confidence, part of me still reeled at how easily his words unsettled me.

But not everyone was impressed.

Zarah’s expression remained still, her lips pressed thin.

Where Narg had seen something worthy of admiration, she looked as though she were weighing me, judging, maybe even doubting.

That quiet resistance in her gaze piqued my curiosity more than Narg’s open awe ever could.

”Do you intend to attack alone?” she asked finally, her tone steady but sharp.

”Yes,” I admitted, the word heavier than I liked. ”It’s too dangerous to take anyone else. Who knows what I’ll face?”

The truth was simple: the enemy clan had numerous Chosens, unpredictable and dangerous. Bringing my people there would be no different than leading them to slaughter.

”So even you don’t know what you’ll meet there?” she pressed.

”No,” I said honestly.

Her brows furrowed. ”Then why go alone and risk your life?”

I blinked, caught off guard. Pardon?

She didn’t back down. ”What if the situation becomes too much? You’re talking about walking into their stronghold. It’s reckless. You could die.”

”I’ll be fine,” I said lightly, waving my arm as though brushing her worries aside.

”But the rest of us wouldn’t,” she snapped back, her voice sharp with fear disguised as anger. ”If you die, we die. We cannot survive without you.”

Her words struck deep, though I kept my face steady. ”But... I will not die.”

”You do not know that!” she shouted, the emotion breaking through.

”I do,” I replied, conviction hardening my voice.

”If things turn dire, I can warp away.”

She exhaled, shoulders sagging, but her eyes still burned. ”You cannot predict what you will meet.”

”You’re right,” I admitted, glancing between them. ”But I can predict what will happen if I do nothing. The enemy will strike again. And when they do, it won’t be me who pays first — it will be you, or Narg, or Dribb. I can’t allow that.”

I leaned forward, voice tight. ”If I must gamble, I’ll gamble with my own life, not yours.”

Silence pressed in. Then Zarah rose abruptly.

”I understand, Chief,” she said coldly. ”I am sorry for speaking nonsense. I am not fit to listen to this matter, so I’ll leave.”

”What...?” The word slipped from me as I watched her walk out, leaving silence heavier than her steps.

I turned to Flogga, but she only sighed. Narg shrugged, his face unreadable.

Why did it feel like I had made a mistake? I replayed the words in my head. She had been worried, but somewhere I had lost her.

”Narg, what do you think?” I asked.

”About?” he replied evenly.

”My plan.”

”I trust Chief,” he said simply. ”We’ve shown we’re not helpless. I don’t know why Zarah is so worked up.”

His confidence steadied nothing in me. I turned to Flogga.

”You...” I began.

She sighed, old eyes weary.

”Maybe you shouldn’t have told her.”

”Why?” I asked.

Her gaze softened, carrying a weight I couldn’t read.

”She...”