Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

I did not stop.

Another rift slash tore upward, striking the same weakening point in the barrier with a vibrating roar that made the air tremble. The dome rippled violently again, its surface thinning further under repeated strain.

I could feel it clearly now.

The section I was targeting was losing cohesion. The magical density there was no longer uniform; it fluctuated unevenly after each strike before stabilizing, and each recovery cycle was weaker than the last.

I was close.

I did not need to shatter the entire barrier.

I just needed a fracture. A hairline crack. A gap no wider than my body.

And once that gap existed, I could phase through before the system rebalanced.

Another slash.

WHOOM!

The shimmer faltered.

Then movement caught my eye.

Kharos.

He was no longer arguing on the wall. He stood at the edge now, blood dripping from his palm and trailing behind him as if gravity had momentarily forgotten how to behave.

”You asked for this, Eli,” he called out, his voice no longer conflicted but sharpened with resolve. ”Here I am.”

Then leaped.

The descent was not reckless. It was controlled, deliberate.

The blood spilling from his cut palm did not fall to the ground but instead coiled around his arm, compressing unnaturally, thickening into a dense crimson sphere that pulsed with mana.

Before his feet even touched the ground, he thrust his arm forward.

The sphere shot toward me at high speed, and midair, it ruptured, fragmenting into dozens of hardened blood blades, each one sharpened to a lethal edge and propelled outward in a spreading arc.

They came fast.

But I did not move.

The invisible distortion around me—Fractured Reality—intercepted them just as it had the arrows earlier. The blood blades struck the warped space in front of me and ricocheted off course, embedding into the ground, trees, and scattered debris behind.

None pierced through.

Kharos landed heavily a moment later, the impact cracking the earth slightly beneath his boots. Blood coated his torso now, not loosely, but structured—layered into a hardened armor that reinforced his frame without restricting movement. It was not bulky, but dense, shaped along his muscles like a second skin.

In his hands, he held two curved blades, both coated in a dark sheen of condensed blood that pulsed faintly.

He did not waste time talking again.

He charged.

I clicked my tongue.

This was inconvenient.

Fractured Reality could passively deflect incoming projectiles, but maintaining it while executing sustained offensive pressure was another matter. If I fully diverted my attention to combat, I would have to halt the rift strikes.

And if I halted the rift strikes, the barrier would begin repairing itself at full efficiency.

Which meant I would lose all progress.

That, I could not allow.

So I did not step back.

I did not retreat.

Instead, I activated [Death Root].

Black ink seeped from my body at first like a shadow thickening beneath my feet, but then it surged outward with intent, lashing forward in tendrils that twisted and split into branching vines as they chased Kharos across the ground.

His eyes widened in recognition, and he was about to speak but he cut himself off mid-sentence, forced to shift his full attention to survival.

With a burst of speed that was clearly not natural to his base physique, he blitzed sideways, blood propelling him like an accelerated pulse. As he moved, he slashed outward from a distance, and crescent-shaped arcs of compressed blood shot toward me in rapid succession.

I raised a wall of black ink in front of me, thickening it instantly into a semi-solid barrier that absorbed the blood slashes with heavy splattering impacts. The ink hissed and rippled but held firm, devouring the energy embedded within the attacks.

At the same time—

I swung again.

Another rift slash roared upward and struck the weakened section of the barrier.

The dome trembled harder this time, and its density at that focal point dipped even further.

Breaching the barrier had now become more important. If I entered the base, I could control the battlefield entirely.

Kharos did not relent.

He kept moving in wide arcs, avoiding the dark tendrils. His blood armor thickened along his legs, reinforcing his mobility, while he unleashed more ranged slashes in staggered timing, trying to force me into a defensive rhythm.

It was becoming disruptive.

So I acted.

I used [Swap], and in an instant, our positions exchanged.

The blood slashes he had just unleashed collided directly with the space he now occupied and impact was immediate.

The blades of hardened blood struck his armor at point-blank range, exploding outward in violent bursts that shredded through parts of his own reinforcement and sent him tumbling backward across the ground.

As soon as I appeared where he had stood, I did not even glance at him.

I swung again.

Another rift slash tearing into the barrier.

The weakened section flickered violently now, cracks of pale distortion spreading outward like stress fractures in glass.

Kharos staggered to his feet, blood dripping freely now from multiple lacerations carved by his own attack. His armor reformed unevenly over torn sections of flesh, sealing some wounds while others remained open.

And then, he laughed.

A manic grin stretching across his face as he steadied himself.

”You bastard,” Kharos called out, his voice rough and uneven. ”I thought you wanted a fight.”

I did not answer him.

There was no reason to.

My attention remained fixed upward, blade humming as void energy gathered once more.

Behind me, I could feel his presence shift.

The blood dripping from his wounds did not fall to the earth anymore. It hovered.

Then it began to coil around him.

Layer after layer of crimson wrapped his body, thickening not into simple armor this time, but into something denser, more volatile. Steam rose from his skin as if the blood were overheating, and his heart began pounding so loudly that even over the hum of the barrier, I could hear it.

BADUMP!

BADUMP!

BADUMP!

His veins lit up beneath the surface, glowing a deep crimson that pulsed in sync with the violent rhythm of his heartbeat, and I did not need an explanation to know he was using a rage-type amplification skill.

He charged before I could release my next rift slash.

His speed sharply increased, the ground cracking under each step as blood surged through his limbs to reinforce muscle and bone. He was no longer trying to disrupt me at range. He intended to land something decisive.

But just as he drew back his blade to unleash the strike, I used [Swap].

WHSSHH!

And our positions exchanged in a blink.

His empowered attack erupted forward with explosive force, but instead of meeting my body, it tore straight into the barrier ahead.

The impact detonated against the bottom section of the dome, sending ripples across its surface but causing no damage.

And now, I was behind him.

So I made him a target.