Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

And to my surprise, it didn’t shift. Not even a tremble. I frowned and pulled harder, putting more strength behind it this time.

Still nothing.

It didn’t move an inch.

”Oh...” I breathed out quietly, realization settling in. This wasn’t just a stack of wooden planks lashed together. The moment I applied more pressure, I felt a faint vibration—an almost imperceptible hum running through the structure. Magic. Jael had reinforced it with some kind of enchantment, something subtle but powerful enough to turn wood into something far sturdier.

Interesting.

The thought slipped through my mind, and instinctively I felt the urge to test it further, to push harder, maybe try punching it or checking how deep the magic went. But I stopped myself before I got carried away.

This was exactly how I got distracted. One small curiosity, and the next thing I knew, I would be pulling apart half the wall or spending an hour experimenting with something that had nothing to do with the task I was supposed to finish. That was how problems started. That was how I forgot daily quests and got thrown into deserts full of undead lunatics.

Now that I was aware of how easily I drifted off-task, I forced myself to pull away from the wall and shut down the curiosity before it spiraled. Anything I wanted to explore, test, or poke at could come after I finished the daily quest. No exceptions. I wasn’t about to risk another penalty zone because I got fascinated by the enchanted wood.

I activated [Warp], blinking past the border in an instant, and broke into a sprint the moment my feet hit the ground. The rhythm settled in easily, my mind narrowing down to the familiar checklist of tasks ahead. A couple of minutes later, sweat running down my back and my breathing steady, I had finished almost everything on the list.

Everything except one.

[Carry a 25-40kg object while walking for ten minutes]

Which was why I was perched atop a thick tree branch now, watching a herd of boars feast below. Their grunts and snorts echoed through the clearing, and they were so focused on tearing into whatever they had found that none of them noticed me.

Perfect.

I had just found my ”object.”

In a blink, I dropped from the branch, and my blade came down hard, burying itself into the skull of the biggest boar in the group. It was level twenty-five—well below my level—and the moment steel met bone, it died instantly, collapsing beneath its own weight.

The rest of the herd panicked.

They scattered in a flurry of frantic oinks and pounding hooves, dirt flying everywhere as they tried to flee the danger they didn’t even understand. But one of them—one stubborn idiot—chose to charge at me instead, lowering its tusks and barreling forward like it had something to prove.

It charged straight at me, hooves tearing through the dirt, tusks angled toward my chest, but I didn’t even shift my footing. I just lifted my hand, pointing lazily in its direction, more annoyed than threatened.

A heartbeat later, a heavy bolt of flame burst from my palm, the heat rolling over my face as it roared forward. It struck the boar dead-on, swallowing it in an explosion that sent a spray of flesh and bone scattering across the clearing. The smell of burnt hide hit instantly, sharp and unpleasant, but I didn’t bother looking at the mess I’d made.

Instead, I lowered my hand, walked past the still-smoldering remains, and crouched beside the first boar I’d killed. Even though it was bigger than me, the weight didn’t matter. My fingers dug into its hide, and I lifted it onto my shoulder with ease, the carcass settling against me without resistance.

Then I started walking back toward the clan, moving at a steady pace, carrying the boar like some returning hunter bringing food for his people. The task was technically done—I was sure I’d walked more than ten minutes after the notification cleared—but I didn’t stop. I let myself continue forward, using the extra time as an excuse to breathe and really take in the world around me.

The forest stretched out in every direction, rustling softly in the wind, sunlight slipping through the branches in long, uneven streaks. The air smelled of earth and leaves, the kind of scent that grounded you whether you wanted it to or not. And for once, I let myself appreciate it—not with wonder, but with a quiet awareness, an acknowledgment of the strange, dangerous place I was stuck in and now had to call home.

In the distance, beyond the trees and the uneven stretch of land, I could already see the settlement—my settlement—and the sight of it made something settle in my chest. It looked like a fortress from here. Not the prettiest one, not the polished kind you’d see in some noble’s territory, but solid.

A place built with intent. A place that could hold.

The gate stood tall, an imposing structure reinforced by two watchtowers on either side. From those towers, the wooden fences I had tested earlier spread outward in a circular formation, forming a full wall around the settlement.

Seeing it from afar made the design even clearer, the way the pieces interlocked and supported each other, the way the magic hummed through them, weaving everything into a single protective shell.

As I approached, the front gate shifted, then swung open with a heavy creak. Dribb stepped out first, jogging toward me with an energetic bounce in his steps, and behind him came two more goblins who must have spotted me from above.

I glanced up, and sure enough, Zonk and Gobbo were perched at the top of the watchtower, observing everything with sharp, attentive eyes.

”Welcome back, Chief,” Dribb said again as he reached out, both hands stretched, ready to take the boar from me. His axe hung neatly at his waist, and he wore the kind of confident expression that told me he thought this would be easy.

I nodded and shifted the boar into his grip.

The moment the weight hit his palms, his entire body jerked downward. The boar yanked his arms so hard he almost slammed into the dirt. He managed to catch himself at the last second, legs trembling, shoulders shaking, every muscle in his scrawny frame straining to keep the carcass from flattening him.

He stared at me with wide eyes, and gasped, voice cracking under the load:

”Chief...chief is so strong!”

I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my mouth. I turned and started walking toward the gate, and behind me, I heard Dribb grunt, then shuffle, then grunt again as he tried to drag the weight forward with whatever pride he had left.

The two other goblins rushed forward immediately, hands half-raised, ready to help.

But Dribb barked, even as the boar dragged trenches into the dirt behind

”No! I... I can carry it! Alone!”

He said it through clenched teeth, his legs shaking like he was holding up a mountain instead of a dead boar, but the determination in his voice was unmistakable.

He wasn’t about to share the burden. He wanted to prove he was strong, but to be honest, I couldn’t say I care.

I walked through the gate, and Gobbo...