Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

And honestly, I couldn’t blame her.

From their perspective, I’d been sitting here talking to thin air like a lunatic, while the ember fox just stared at me in silence.

To them, it probably looked like I was losing my mind.

Why didn’t I just reply to her telepathically? That would’ve spared me the spectacle.

But then again... if I’d sat here glaring at the fox in total silence, everyone would’ve thought we were locked in some bizarre staring contest. Not exactly reassuring either.

Wouldn’t make me look any less crazy.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. ”It’s alright,” I said, raising my voice so they all could hear. ”You guys can carry on with your activities. I’ll meet up with you soon.”

The clan exchanged uneasy glances, but one by one they began to file out of the cave. Their footsteps faded slowly into the distance, leaving behind only the quiet drip of water from the stone walls... and the fox, whose golden eyes hadn’t left me for a second.

Meanwhile, Zarah lingered at the edge of the group, her arms crossed and her expression carved from stone.

”You said you were going to take us hunting,” she reminded me, her tone sharper than usual, like she was testing whether I’d forgotten.

”That’s right...” I muttered. ”What’s the time?”

Out of habit, I glanced down at my wrist. What stared back at me was not the familiar curve of a watch, but a small, green, goblin hand.

Oh. Right. How could I forget? I was a goblin. Idiot.

I cleared my throat, hoping no one caught the awkward pause. ”I’ll meet up with you all soon. Don’t worry.”

Zarah’s eyes lingered on me for a long moment, unreadable, before sliding over to the fox. Her gaze hardened instantly, and though she said nothing, her disdain was clear enough. She turned away a second later, shoulders stiff, disappearing with the rest of the clan.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she didn’t like the fox’s presence one bit. Not that I could blame her.

The silence that followed was broken by the fox’s voice, brushing casually into my mind.

”Is she your mate?”

I blinked, nearly choking on my own spit.

”No, she is not.”

The fox tilted her head, tails swaying lazily.

”Why not? She seems to fancy you.”

My brow furrowed. ”And how exactly would you know that?”

”Anyone with eyes would see it.”

”Is that so?” I muttered under my breath, though the words came out more uneasy than dismissive. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t noticed before. What had almost happened between Zarah and me at the pond was still fresh in my mind.

But hearing it spelled out so bluntly—like it was obvious to anyone who looked—made my skin prickle.

The fox flicked her ears and added with a smug edge, ”Hmm... I thought you weren’t like other goblins, but it seems the attribute of idiocy exists in you after all.”

I glared at her, heat flashing behind my eyes, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Not a twitch. Just sat there, perfectly calm, as though my anger were nothing more than a passing breeze.

The fight drained out of me with a long sigh. I wasn’t going to win this back-and-forth, not with her. My mind was too cluttered, too heavy with unanswered questions, and I needed something solid to focus on.

So I did the only thing that ever gave me a sense of control.

I called up my status window.

[Status Window]

Name: Eli Cross

Race: Goblin

Title: Drugar’s Chosen

Class: None

Level: 29

HP: 1214/1214

MP: 651/651

Kill Count: 3

[Stats]

Strength: 54+10

Stamina: 66+10

Agility: 47+10

Intelligence: 39+10

Perception: 34+10

(Available Points: 0)

My eyes widened. What in the hell...?

Every one of my stats had jumped, not by a point or two, but by a clean +10 across the board.

I stared at the glowing numbers, my pulse quickening. That kind of leap wasn’t small. It would take me several kills and level up to gain these kinds of numbers.

But here they were?

The only reason I could think of as to why I had suddenly gained this number of stats.

”Hm. Little fox,” I muttered aloud, my eyes still locked on the window.

”My name is Ariel,” she corrected flatly.

”Fine. Ariel, then.” I swallowed, dragging my gaze away from the glowing screen. ”What exactly did your mother do to me?”

”She healed you and made you a little strong.”

”Little?” I sputtered, nearly choking on the word. ”+10 to each stat is considered little? Of course it is.”

Ariel just looked at me with that infuriatingly calm expression, as if numbers that would take me weeks—months—to grind out were nothing more than pocket change.

I exhaled slowly, forcing down the irritation. Fine. Maybe to her it was little. To me, though, it was huge.

But the more I thought about it, the more the cost loomed over me.

The process of receiving those stats hadn’t been some gentle blessing—it had been agony, like being torn apart and rebuilt from the inside out. Even now, the memory made me shudder.

It was a gift, sure... but one that came with chains attached.

Because in exchange for this boost, I’d become her unwilling babysitter. Bound to her life, forced to treat her survival as carefully as I treated my own. If she stumbled, I stumbled. If she died, I died.

That was more than troublesome—it was a curse dressed up as a blessing.

Still, there was no undoing it now.

And honestly? I had bigger things to worry about.

Now came the main event.

The reason I’d risked everything—the hunts, the blood, the fights that had nearly killed me a dozen times over.

Reaching level 25.

The chance to earn a class. To evolve.

The threshold that would define my path of power,

A soft chime echoed in my mind, and glowing text filled my vision:

[Evolution path now available]

My chest tightened.

This was it.

I opened the panel with trembling hands, my heart pounding in my ears, and the list of options unfolded before me.