Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

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

”She cares for you, young totem,” Flogga said quietly.

”Isn’t that obvious?”

I frowned, but she pressed on before I could respond.

”The more you speak as though your life is nothing, the more she hears it as if hers — and ours — are nothing too. That is not an easy burden for anyone to carry, no matter how strong they may appear.”

Her words lingered long after her voice had fallen silent, echoing in the space between us. They carried more weight than I wanted to give them, yet I couldn’t deny their truth. I hadn’t thought about it that way.

For all my certainty, the reality was simple: their lives were tied to mine in ways that couldn’t be severed. If I died, their chances of surviving would plummet.

It wasn’t just a matter of leadership — it was about trust, about the hope they placed on me.

To dismiss my own life so casually was, in their eyes, especially hers, was the same as dismissing theirs.

Maybe I should have chosen my words more carefully, made my point clearer instead of brushing off her fears. I drew in a slow breath and straightened. ”

Alright,” I said at last, forcing steadiness into my tone. ”That’s all I needed to tell you.”

”Flogga, keep making more of those potions,” I said, my tone clipped, already shifting toward what needed to be done next. Then I turned my attention to Narg.

The moment my eyes settled on him, he pushed himself up to his feet, ever dutiful, though the sharp wince that crossed his face betrayed the pain still gnawing at his body.

”Rest up,” I ordered firmly, softening the edge in my voice just enough to remind him it wasn’t a suggestion but also not a punishment.

”Yes, Chief,” he replied with a short nod. Without another word, he made his way out of my quarters, his gait stiff but steady, the stubborn pride in his back refusing to let anyone see weakness for too long.

Flogga rose soon after, and I walked with her toward the exit. Her steps were unhurried, the kind of calm pace that carried no urgency but still left space for thought.

”I still have daily tasks to complete,” I said, breaking the silence. ”I need to finish them before the day ends. So I’ll be gone for a while.”

”Okay...” she answered lightly, though her eyes flicked toward me, studying me in that way of hers that always seemed to peel past the surface. Then, after a beat, she added, ”This daily quest you speak of... does it have anything to do with the system you mentioned?”

I froze mid-step, the weight of her words sinking in before I could muster a response. Slowly, I turned toward her and found her watching me with that sharp, calculating gaze that seemed to cut deeper than I ever allowed.

This old hag... her intelligence was frightening.

How had she pieced it together so easily? I had barely spoken about the system, dropping only the vaguest hints in passing, yet she had not only taken note but managed to connect it with the mention of my daily quests. That kind of perception was dangerous — not because I thought she would betray me, but because it reminded me just how little slipped past her notice.

Suppressing the unease clawing at my chest, I answered with nothing more than a slow, deliberate nod.

Flogga’s lips curved into a grin, thin and knowing, as though she had just confirmed a suspicion she’d been harboring for longer than I realized. Her wrinkles deepened around her mouth and eyes as the expression held, and then she turned away, her back facing me as she walked on with the quiet satisfaction of someone who had won a silent game.

I narrowed my eyes at her retreating form, my thoughts twisting. With a flick of intent, I triggered \[Analyze], the familiar interface flashing before me. I didn’t just want her stats — what mattered most to me now was her loyalty.

And to my surprise, her loyalty was listed at one hundred percent.

[Flogga – Level 8 | Goblin Alchemist]

Skills: [Potion Making], [Flame Orb], [Mana Shield], [Warcry], [Iron Fist], [Stealth], [Danger Sense], [Roar of Intimidation]

Loyalty: 100%

A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding slipped out of me.

Relief washed through my chest, though it was followed quickly by the awareness of just how much tension I had been carrying over the possibility of seeing a lower number.

I honestly didn’t know how I would have reacted if her loyalty had dropped — probably with even more suspicion than I already carried.

That would have made things complicated.

I didn’t stop there.

With a quick series of gazea, I turned [Analyze] on each of the others in turn, watching their information flicker across my vision.

One by one, their loyalty appeared the same — solid, unwavering.

All except for one.

Zarah.

The moment her name appeared on the panel, my chest tightened.

Her loyalty, the very first to have ever reached a perfect one hundred among all of my clan members, had dropped. Not by much, but enough to sting. A clean ten percent gone, just like that.

I let out an exhausted sigh, dragging a hand down my face.

”Seriously,” I muttered under my breath.

Why?

The question gnawed at me, looping in my mind without offering an answer that felt certain.

Was it really because of how I spoke to her just now?

No... I hadn’t been that rude, at least not by my own measure.

Then again, maybe it had less to do with this moment and more to do with the one I hadn’t addressed since. That awkward silence back at the pond — the way neither of us had spoken about it since — was still hanging between us like a weight I kept pretending wasn’t there.

Or perhaps it was simpler than that.

Perhaps it was because I had dismissed her worries outright, insisting on going alone against an entire enemy clan, which in her eyes was no different from announcing I planned to walk into my own death.

Honestly, I didn’t know.

And the not knowing was worse than anything.

But one thing was certain — I couldn’t just let it fester.

I intend to make amends, addressing every issue.

I turned my gaze toward Zarah, only to find hers already fixed on me.

The moment our eyes met, however, she broke the contact, her head shifting away as though the sight of me was suddenly too much to bear.

I closed the distance between us slowly, each step deliberate, watching the way she immediately busied herself the moment she realized I was approaching.

Her hands worked at the arrows in her lap with a focus so exaggerated it was almost comical — as if sharpening them with that much intensity could hide the storm brewing behind her expression.

”Zarah,” I called, keeping my voice steady, though my chest felt far less so.

”Yes, Chief,” she replied quickly, her head snapping toward me.

Her eyes widened just a fraction, and her lips pressed into a faint pout that still carried traces of her earlier frustration.

For a heartbeat, I found myself distracted.

She was cute — painfully so — in a way that caught me off guard every time I noticed it. Endearing, even when she was angry with me.

My pulse spiked, and it felt absurdly similar to the nervous thrum I got when I thought of asking a pretty girl out on a date back when I was still human.

Emphasis on the word ’thought’.

I snapped myself out of it with a small cough, lifting a hand to my mouth as I turned slightly aside, hoping the movement would mask the heat creeping up my neck.

Then, drawing in a breath, I looked back at her and said:

”Would you follow me? I need your help.”

She froze for a moment.

Then she replied, the words leaving her lips with an excitement that felt almost childlike, eager in a way that caught me off guard.

”Yes, Chief. I’ll be happy to help.”

Her lips pressed together, cheeks drawn just enough at the corners to betray the faintest of smiles she probably thought she was hiding.

Heat crept up my face before I could stop it, and my stomach gave a small, traitorous flip.

She was... cute. Too cute.

I cleared my throat, forcing a harsher tone into my voice.

”If you cannot keep up, I’ll leave you behind.”

Her response came without hesitation.

”I’ll do my best to follow you,” she said, her voice steady, her eyes flashing with determination that left no room for doubt.

”Good,” I nodded. ”Get your bow and let’s go.”

She hurried to gather it, movements quick and efficient, and within moments she was standing at my side, ready.

As we stepped out of the cave together, the cool air brushing against us, Narg intercepted our path. His staff was propped against his shoulder, his expression calm but serious.

”I’ll make sure to protect the clan in your absence,” he said, the promise in his voice heavier.

He didn’t need to do that.

”I’ll check in constantly, don’t worry,” I assured him.

And Narg gave me a short nod, satisfied with that answer, and I stepped out of the cave with Zarah falling into stride behind me.

The forest air met us immediately, cool and damp, carrying the smell of soil and leaves.

With a thought, I pulled up my daily quest list, the familiar text materializing before my eyes.

[Daily Quest Progress:]

• Sprint for 3 kilometers – (Incomplete)

• Scale a steep hill or tall tree – (Incomplete)

• Carry 25–40kg of rocks or logs for 10 minutes – (Incomplete)

• Evade 20 thrown projectiles – (Incomplete)

First task...sprinting.

I drew in a breath and broke into a run, pushing my body forward with deliberate speed.

Behind me, I heard the quick rustle of leaves as Zarah followed, her lighter footsteps sharp and precise, the rhythm of her stride close on mine.