Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

Relief washed through me, slow and steady, the kind that came when a lingering concern was finally put to rest.

I was glad it was settled, glad that one more potential weakness had been addressed before it could turn into a real problem.

I resumed walking, my pace unhurried now, the path back to the clan stretching out ahead of me as the aftermath of the battle faded into memory.

I ran the numbers again, more out of habit than necessity.

I had spent 6,500 skill advancement points to bring [Unyielding Will] all the way to S-rank, leaving me with a remaining balance of 300 points. Not much, but not nothing either.

As I scrolled through my skill list, checking for any skill that could be ranked up with what was left, one entry immediately stood out.

Iron Fist.

It was one of the very first skills I had received after becoming chief, a reminder of those early days when survival was raw and unpolished, and every scrap of power felt hard-earned.

It also happened to be the only skill I still had sitting at E-rank, an oddity among the rest, which had all started at C-rank or higher.

The disparity was impossible to ignore.

If I wanted to bring my other skills any higher, I’d need to hunt more, earn more points, and build up a proper reserve before making another big push. That was unavoidable.

But for now…

Ding!

[Would you like to rank up your skill [Iron Fist] from E-rank to D-rank?]

[Cost: 100 Skill Advancement Points]

”Go ahead…”

The confirmation barely left my mind before the system responded.

Ding!

[Iron Fist (E) has advanced to D-rank.]

There was no dramatic sensation this time, no immediate shift I could point to, just a faint awareness in my arms and hands, like my body had acknowledged the change and quietly filed it away for later use.

The prompt appeared again almost immediately.

Ding!

[Would you like to rank up your skill [Iron Fist] from D-rank to C-rank?]

[Cost: 200 Skill Advancement Points]

I didn’t hesitate.

Ding!

[Congratulations. [Iron Fist (D)] has advanced to C-rank.]

This time, I slowed and read through the details as they unfolded.

[Skill: Iron Fist (C)]

Type: Passive

Description:

The user’s body adapts aggressively to prolonged hand-to-hand combat, hardening bones and muscle fibers while refining strike precision. Each successful exchange further conditions the body, turning the user into a more dangerous close-range combatant the longer the battle continues.

Effects:

– Increases unarmed attack power by up to 15% during combat

– Noticeably improves fist durability and resistance to impact stress

– Enhances strike precision, allowing blows to transfer force more efficiently

– Minor increase to damage dealt against armored or physically resilient enemies

I let out a quiet breath as I finished reading.

Oh… this was actually a decent skill.

I wasn’t someone who relied heavily on my fists in combat.

Between weapons, abilities, and positioning, hand-to-hand fighting was usually a last resort rather than a preferred approach.

Still, experience had taught me that battles rarely unfolded the way you planned, and when things went wrong, they tended to go wrong fast.

If I ever found myself stripped of weapons, locked in close quarters, or forced into a raw exchange of blows, this skill would absolutely matter.

But that wasn’t the part that really held my attention.

I had shared this skill with all of my goblins early on, as survival was uncertain and I couldn’t afford for any of them to be completely helpless if a fight broke out at close range.

At the time, it had been little more than a safety net.

Now, with the skill ranked up, that safety net had teeth.

They wouldn’t just be surviving anymore.

Against enemies not too far above their level, my goblins would actually be dangerous in a straight fight, their small frames backed by hardened bodies and strikes that carried real weight.

That realization settled in quietly, but it carried a satisfying edge to it.

This wasn’t just growth for me, it was growth for the clan.

As I passed through the gate, something subtle but unmistakable caught my attention, enough that my steps slowed without me realizing it.

My goblins looked different.

Their limbs carried a firmer presence, muscles packed tighter beneath their skin, and the way they held themselves had changed as well. Shoulders were set more squarely, backs straighter, stances wider and more grounded, the kind of posture that came from bodies that trusted their own strength.

And this was the effect of the passive skill Iron Fist, rising two ranks.

The clan gathered quickly once word spread that I had returned, their expressions still tense from the aftermath of the battle, eyes flicking toward the forest beyond the walls as if expecting another threat to emerge at any moment.

I raised my voice and reassured them calmly that the danger had been dealt with, that the enemy’s command structure was gone, and that the remaining stragglers were already being hunted down.

There was no need to linger in fear or cluster uselessly around the gate. Everyone was to return to their assigned roles and restore order.

They listened.

Discipline reasserted itself, and the tension bled away as the clan dispersed, movement resuming with purpose rather than panic.

Not long after, the ones I had sent to pursue the fleeing apes returned.

By then, I was already back in my quarters, speaking with Flogga, Talia, and Bundi, discussing ways to enhance clan defense in case a situation like this ever occurred again.

The door opened, and they walked in, followed closely by Narg, Zivra, and Nira.

They looked worn, not injured in any critical sense, but clearly pushed to their limits.

Dribb, in particular, was splattered with blood from shoulder to thigh, dark and tacky against his skin, though nothing about his movement suggested it was his

Zarah, on the other hand, stood in sharp contrast.

She was completely spotless, not a single smear or stain clinging to her.

The air around her was subtly cold, her expression was calm, almost distant, and in one hand she held what took my mind a second too long to process as they were frozen solid in ice.

Severed heads.

What the hell Zarah!