Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

[Troll Killer: For killing two trolls of a higher level than you, your attributes increase by 20% when you fight a troll]

Wowie.

I couldn’t help but grin as I read the notification. That was one sweet perk.

”If only I could find a whole tribe of trolls...”

I’d be unstoppable.

But now wasn’t the time to fantasize.

I had leveled up three times from the battle, which meant I had a nice pool of stat points to assign.

Time to grow stronger.

I opened my stat window, and the glowing display materialized before my eyes.

[Stats]

Strength: 16

Stamina: 13

Agility: 13

Intelligence: 13

Perception: 13

Available Points to Distribute: 9

From the fight, it was painfully clear that strength was my weak point—even though it was already my highest stat.

The irony.

Stabbing a troll felt like trying to pierce through a boulder.

And it hurt...alot

Clearly, I needed to boost my raw power, so without hesitation, I dumped all 9 of my points into Strength, watching as the number jumped from 16 to 25.

My reasoning was simple.

I was too weak, too scrawny.

I couldn’t land a hit that packed enough punch to matter.

I needed raw power, enough to crush bones and smash through armor without breaking a sweat.

No more wincing like a woman every time I struck an opponent.

As the points settled, I felt a surge of energy ripple through me.

My body seemed to respond immediately, muscles tightening and flexing in ways I’d never felt before. My arms felt denser, heavier like they were loaded with the power to split logs.

I grinned, flexing a fist experimentally.

It felt incredible like I could take on the world.

For a moment, I was tempted to test my newfound strength. Maybe punch a tree and see if it’d snap in half.

But then I stopped myself, a shiver running down my spine.

I’d done something like that once—punched a wall in a fit of rage.

It didn’t go well. Instead of breaking the wall, I ended up cracking my knuckles.

The pain was seared into my memory, and ever since then, I’d developed an irrational fear of punching things.

I steadied myself, shaking off the thought.

It was time to return to my clan.

But first, I had to retrieve Gravefang, my dagger, still lodged in the first troll’s eye. It wasn’t just a weapon I could just abandon.

It was a symbol of my authority as goblin chief.

Leaving it behind wasn’t an option.

Using [Warp], I teleported back to the site where the first troll had fallen.

The air was still heavy with the scent of charred flesh, and the ground was scorched black from the flames.

I glanced around, scanning for the body.

Gravefang should still be embedded in its eye.

But then I froze.

There was another troll.

This one wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t a towering giant.

It was... small.

Just a few inches taller than me.

Its appearance was bizarre—its skin wrinkled and leathery, with disproportionately large hands and feet. Its tusks were tiny, almost laughable compared to the massive fangs of the others.

I ducked into the bushes, my heartbeat quickening.

The small troll moved slowly, dragging its oversized feet through the dirt. It muttered something unintelligible, its voice gravelly and low.

I stayed hidden, watching it with narrowed eyes.

What was it doing here?

The small troll shuffled closer to the massive, charred body of its fallen kin. It was tugging at the burned troll’s arm, grunting softly as if trying to wake it up.

I squinted, piecing things together.

Then it hit me.

The trolls were aggressive for a reason.

They weren’t just mindlessly attacking us.

They were trying to protect their child.

This tiny troll was their kid.

A pang of guilt crept into my chest, but it wasn’t enough to crush me.

Guilt, sure—but not regret.

Because at the end of the day, their intentions didn’t matter.

They attacked first.

They risked my life, my clan’s lives.

And as their leader, I did what I had to do.

I fought back. I won.

That’s the job of a chief.

Still, the scene in front of me was... heavy.

The little troll’s low, desperate grunts felt different from the guttural roars of the others.

I forced my gaze away, glancing up at the sky.

The fading light painted it in shades of purple and orange.

Nightfall was creeping in fast, and I knew staying out here wasn’t an option.

”It gets dangerous when it’s dark,” I muttered to myself.

Then I recalled what Narg had said when I wanted to kick him out.

Moon Cat, is what he called it.

Yeah, I wasn’t about to stick around long enough to meet whatever nightmare he was talking about. Getting eaten by a Moon Cat sounded like a bad way to go.

I turned my attention back to the troll’s corpse.

I needed to grab Gravefang and get out of here before the night fully set in.

The smaller troll wasn’t a real threat. It might have been the kid of the two giants I fought earlier, but without its parents, it didn’t stand a chance against me. Especially now, with my enhanced strength and new skills.

Still, I wasn’t stupid.

I kept my guard up as I started walking toward the body.

The little troll noticed me. Its head snapped up, and it let out a low snarl, baring its tiny tusks in a weak attempt to scare me off.

I stopped in my tracks, meeting its gaze.

It snarled again, louder this time, crouching low like it was ready to fight.

I frowned, but my voice stayed calm.

”Look, I just want my blade. That’s all. Not here to hurt you.”

The troll didn’t budge.

If anything, it seemed even more determined to stand its ground.

I sighed, glancing at the horizon.

Time was running out.

”I get it, little guy,” I said, trying to sound calm despite my frustration. ”I took your parent from you. Tough break. But that dagger? Yeah, that’s mine.”

I pointed at Gravefang, still stuck in the troll’s parent’s eye.

The little troll followed the direction of my finger, its beady eyes landing on the blade.

For a moment, it just stared at it.

Then, to my complete disbelief, it grinned.

Wait. What?

It wasn’t a sad or angry grin, either. No, this was the smirk of a troll who just had an idea—a bad one.

This little punk was a mischievous bastard.

Before I could even react, it grabbed the blade, yanked it out of its parent’s eye, and bolted.

I froze, then shouted, already breaking into a sprint.

”Are you kidding me?”