Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

On my way to Talia’s shed, I heard a scream echo from somewhere in the distance.

I didn’t even bother turning toward it.

At this point, that sort of thing had become normal.

Over the past few days, I had distributed several skill lines to goblins who showed promise, and it had fallen to Dribb and Kharos to make sure they actually learned how to use them before the King’s Games arrived.

Unfortunately for the recipients, their teaching methods were... direct. Very direct.

Most lessons eventually ended with someone getting thrown into the dirt, punched in the face, or beaten badly enough that Sheera had to patch them up afterward. Still, as unpleasant as it was, the results were difficult to argue with.

The goblins were improving. Rapidly.

Sometimes the fastest way to learn wasn’t through explanations. It was through making mistakes and immediately suffering the consequences.

The scream was followed by Dribb’s booming laughter.

Yep. Definitely training.

I continued walking.

Meanwhile, Zarah spent most of her time with Caius.

The two of them had become almost inseparable whenever clan matters were involved.

Caius constantly fed her different scenarios, forcing her to think through potential solutions and predict how battles might unfold before they actually happened. Whether it was defending the settlement, organizing hunting parties, handling ambushes, or coordinating larger engagements, he always seemed to have another problem waiting for her to solve.

And to her credit, she took it seriously. Very seriously.

Unlike me, who tended to learn by throwing myself directly into dangerous situations and figuring things out along the way, Zarah approached the role with genuine dedication.

Whenever she wasn’t studying under Caius, she was out in the field leading hunting groups and testing what she had learned. I could already see the difference.

The improvement wasn’t dramatic enough to transform the clan overnight, but it was there.

The goblins moved with more coordination than before. Groups communicated better during hunts. They reacted faster when plans changed unexpectedly. Even simple things, like positioning and target prioritization, had become noticeably cleaner.

The drills were perhaps the best example.

Several times, the clan had been divided into two groups.

One led by Zarah. The other by Caius.

The objective varied depending on the exercise, but the result was usually the same.

Zarah lost. Repeatedly. A large part of that came down to Caius’ [Foresight].

The ability was honestly ridiculous.

Trying to outmaneuver someone who could literally glimpse possible outcomes felt unfair from the beginning. Not that Zarah accepted that excuse. Every defeat only seemed to motivate her further.

She would spend hours afterward replaying the exercise in her head, questioning decisions, identifying mistakes, and searching for ways to overcome him the next time.

And while she’d never admit it openly, I knew she disliked Caius because of it.

Not because she hated him. Because she hated losing. Especially to the same person over and over again.

At the same time, she respected him enough to acknowledge that he genuinely knew what he was doing. That combination created a strange dynamic between them.

Constant frustration mixed with genuine admiration.

Honestly, watching her throw herself into the position with so much determination made me realize I had made the right choice. She cared. Maybe even more than I originally expected.

She wasn’t treating the title of Combat Commander as something I had simply handed her. She was trying to earn it. Actually trying to become worthy of it. And seeing that made me strangely proud.

Still...

As much as I was happy with how things were progressing, there was one downside.

With how busy she’d become lately, I barely saw her anymore.

Between training, planning, hunting, drills, and strategy sessions with Caius, she was constantly occupied with something.

I understood why.

The King’s Games were approaching fast, and the responsibility I’d placed on her shoulders wasn’t exactly small.

But even knowing all that, I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.

I kind of missed coming home and finding her waiting there.

Missed the way she’d look at me the moment I walked through the door. Missed how obvious she was about it too. It was embarrassing to admit, but I’d gotten used to it. And now that it wasn’t happening as often, the absence was surprisingly noticeable.

Reaching Talia’s workshop, I couldn’t help but notice just how different it looked compared to before.

The place had expanded considerably.

Tables occupied nearly every available corner, each one covered in tools, materials, sketches, and partially completed equipment. Entire shelves were lined with armor pieces in various stages of completion, while stacks of reinforced leather, metal plates, and monster materials were neatly arranged along the walls.

The workshop no longer felt like a small workspace.

It felt like the center of the clan’s equipment production.

Talia moved between the different workstations with surprising confidence, issuing instructions to the workers I had assigned to her. Whenever she pointed something out or gave an order, the goblins immediately got to work without hesitation.

The moment she noticed me standing near the entrance, she immediately straightened and hurried over.

”Chief. What are you doing here?”

”I just came to check on things.”

As I answered, my eyes drifted toward a particularly impressive set of armor resting on a makeshift mannequin near the back of the workshop.

The design immediately stood out from everything around it.

Unfortunately, Talia immediately noticed where I was looking. She practically threw herself between me and the armor.

”No. No,” she said quickly. ”I’m not done yet. It’s still being worked on.”

I raised a brow.

”Right...”

I glanced at the mostly concealed armor before looking back at her.

”So, how’s progress on the rest of the equipment?”

Talia visibly relaxed now that my attention had shifted elsewhere.

”Well, I’ve already produced enough armor to equip everyone.”

That alone was impressive.

”But now I’m focusing on reinforcement and adjustments,” she continued. ”Different goblins fight differently. The armor needs to suit the wearer if we want the best results.”

That made sense.

There was a big difference between making armor and making good armor. Especially when half the people wearing it possessed wildly different abilities and combat styles.

”Is that so?” I nodded. ”Then keep up the good work.”

Talia nodded back.

For a few moments, neither of us said anything.

I found myself waiting. Usually, whenever I visited, she had a list of complaints, requests, suggestions, or things she wanted to discuss. More often than not, I barely needed to say anything before she started talking.

This time, however, she simply stood there. Then she said something completely unexpected.