Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

And then there was Zivra, the one caught in between.

Half goblin, half something more.

The daughter of a goblin chief who had once lived as a human.

Her reactions, her defiance, the way she spoke—it all carried that unmistakable trace of humanity. A part of her refused to bend to instinct the way the others did, and that made her unpredictable.

As much as Eli recognized her potential, a part of him didn’t want her in his clan. Her innate ability was powerful but volatile, something that could easily turn against him if she ever lost control—or worse, if she decided to.

It was troublesome enough that he had already considered eliminating her altogether, not out of cruelty, but as a matter of survival.

But he wasn’t going to do that.

The thought lingered, uncomfortable yet sobering.

He was starting to notice how easily his mind leaned toward the crueler choice—how quickly killing had become an option rather than a last resort.

Maybe it was the goblin in him, that primal urge to eliminate threats before they grew. But no... he refused to hide behind that excuse.

It wasn’t the race. It was him.

Humans were capable of the same cruelty, often worse. Yet they were also capable of empathy, and that—despite everything—was something he hadn’t lost.

He understood Zivra’s reaction, her hatred, her grief. He had seen her father die; he’d seen her world collapse.

How could she not look at him and see a monster?

The same empathy had made him hesitate when he saw Jael’s broken form at the end. It was what made him understand the silent bond between Nira and Gork, a bond he had deliberately exploited to win their allegiance.

He could read emotion, even manipulate it when necessary—but that required first recognizing it.

So, no. He wouldn’t kill Zivra. Not yet. Having her close was the smarter choice. As the old saying goes, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Because if she left... if she somehow survived on her own and came back later, stronger and consumed by vengeance, what then?

Would he be ready for her? Would he have a defense against the kind of mental assault she could unleash?

He couldn’t be sure.

The truth was, Zivra was too unpredictable for him to take chances with.

Still, if she remained within reach—under his supervision—he could watch her, measure her progress, and act long before she became a threat. It was better to keep the blade where he could see it than to wonder where it might strike from the shadows.

Of course, that would only work if she joined him. And if she did, he already knew what his first command would be. She would swear an oath never to use her ability on him. That was non-negotiable.

But the problem was clear—nothing he had said so far seemed to move her. Her eyes carried nothing but loathing, and her silence spoke louder than any words could. She was grieving, furious, and broken. He had killed her father; no speech, no promise of power could erase that.

And he couldn’t simply tell her to forget it all and serve him. It didn’t work that way.

So, how was he going to make her stay? Convince her to see reason? To choose survival over pride?

Or maybe, he realized, he wasn’t the one who needed to do the convincing.

His gaze shifted from Zivra to Nira. Then back again.

”What about you?” Eli asked, his voice steady as his gaze fixed on Zivra. ”Do you swear allegiance?”

Zivra lifted her head slowly, meeting his eyes without flinching. ”Never,” she said, her tone sharp and cold, the word cutting through the air like a blade.

”Zivra,” Nira called softly, stepping forward. There was fear in her voice—fear that Eli might lose patience and do something irreversible. She didn’t want to see the girl die, not like this. So she tried one last time to reach her.

”He killed the chief,” Zivra said bitterly, tears gathering in her eyes as her voice cracked.

”This is how the world works,” Nira replied, her tone hardening despite the sympathy in her gaze. ”The strong kill the weak. Your father was simply weak.”

Zivra’s eyes widened, her expression twisting with anger. ”You insult him.”

”He’s dead,” Nira said bluntly, shaking her head. ”Open your eyes, Zivra. Live.”

The younger goblin trembled, her jaw tightening as her tears finally broke free. Then, without another word, she turned away, dissapointed, unable to bear looking at Nira.

That broke something in Nira.

Her voice, usually calm and composed, rose sharply. ”Why do you care so much about his death, huh? Why does it matter so much now when he barely noticed you while he was alive?!” she shouted, anger and frustration bleeding through her words.

Zivra flinched at the outburst but didn’t look away. Her eyes glistened, pain flashing beneath her glare—a mix of grief and disbelief at hearing those words from someone she had trusted.

But Nira didn’t stop. The dam had already burst.

”He never paid attention to you,” she said, her tone cracking. ”No matter how hard you tried, no matter what you did, he never saw you. You could’ve burned the forest down, and he still wouldn’t have looked you in the eyes. So why—” her voice faltered, trembling between anger and exhaustion.”why are you so determined to honor him now?”

Zivra’s lips quivered as she lowered her head. Her shoulders began to shake, and for a moment, she said nothing. Then, in a fragile whisper, the words escaped her.

”It was my fault,” she whispered.

The words were barely audible, but they carried enough pain to silence everyone around her. Her shoulders began to tremble, the sobs coming harder now, her voice breaking as the guilt poured out.

”It was because I was weak,” she said, her tears streaking the dirt on her cheeks. ”If I’d been stronger, if I’d shown him I could be useful, maybe he would have looked at me. Maybe he would have seen me.” She drew a shaky breath, her hands curling into fists. ”I wanted to grow stronger, to show him I could protect the clan, but now he’s gone. He’s dead, and I’ll never have that chance.”

Then her grief twisted into anger, and her gaze snapped upward, locking onto Eli.

”And it’s because of him!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the clearing as she pointed at him, tears and fury blurring together in her eyes.