Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

My gaze shifted back to the panel, this time landing on the loyalty rating.

A flat 2.

Sensible, really.

Our relationship couldn’t possibly be worse.

There was no trust to speak of, only hostility, and after the way I had just beaten her into the dirt, I doubted she would ever look at me as anything other than an enemy bound by chains she couldn’t break.

Still, the number concerned me.

Not because I expected better, but because it reminded me just how fragile this so-called bond really was.

Then my eyes moved further down to her skills.

The first time I had used [Analyze] on her, the information had been incomplete. I’d seen only fragments of what she could do—hints at her tricks, enough to know she was dangerous, but not the full scope. Now, though, the bond stripped away those barriers. Lengthy details of her skills lay exposed to me.

Then my attention shifted to something I had only ever heard about in passing.

The small line beside her status:

[Bond Info]

I had been curious before, but never enough to dig deeper. Most of what I knew came from words of her mouth, which, from looking at her loyalty was obviously something I shouldn’t believe without confirming for myself.

If my survival truly hinged on hers, I needed answers.

Was it permanent? Could it be broken? What were the advantages and the drawbacks? And most importantly, if she died, did that really mean I died too?

I opened the tab.

The system responded instantly. Multiple lines of text scrolled into view, etched sharp and glowing across my vision.

[Beast Bond Information]

You have been bonded to this beast under the Ember Clan law, making you partners forever with this beast.

Until death do you part.

I exhaled slowly through my teeth. ”Damn... there goes my plan to get rid of this annoyance.”

The panel shifted again, new lines forming below.

[Bond Benefits] ~ These benefits can only be unlocked by improving your relationship with your beast.

Essence Share: You gain a fixed 20% of the essence this beast earns from killing monsters, and she gains the same from you. The percentage can only be adjusted each time loyalty crosses a 50-point threshold.

Skill Share: When loyalty reaches 50, you can utilize one of your bonded beast’s skills as if it were your own.

Fusion: When loyalty reaches 100, you and your beast can merge temporarily, combining your power to create a stronger whole.

I let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound carrying more weight than I intended. My chest tightened as I stared at the glowing text, an uneasy knot of thoughts churning in my mind.

There were benefits, that much was clear. The essence share alone meant faster growth, and the potential of borrowing her skills once her loyalty climbed past fifty was tempting, to say the least. And the fusion at full loyalty... that was something else entirely. I couldn’t help but picture it—the idea of merging with her form, wielding fire with her strength layered over mine.

For a fleeting moment, I thought of that old anime, the image of the nine-tailed beast fusing with its host, power swelling beyond imagination.

But fantasy did little to drown out the reality staring me in the face.

The bond couldn’t be undone. The system had made it clear—until death do us part. And that wasn’t just her death. If she fell, I went with her.

My survival was chained to an unpredictable creature.

And worse, it hadn’t been my choice.

This wasn’t a pact made willingly, a partnership forged through trust.

It had been forced on me, shackled by rules I didn’t understand or comprehend.

My eyes drifted down to her. She lay in the dirt, battered, her body trembling as flickering blue flames licked across her wounds. Slowly, impossibly, they were closing, her cursed resilience refusing to let her die.

I turned away with a sigh, suspicion tugging at me, sharp and persistent.

What else didn’t I know?

What else was hidden behind this so-called bond that wasn’t revealed?

There was no way the Matriarch had allowed this bond to form out of kindness.

A proud, powerful beast like her wouldn’t simply hand over her daughter’s life to a goblin unless there was something to gain.

Something not listed in the neat little lines of system text.

There had to be another layer—something hidden, something of value that tilted the scales in their favor.

Perhaps it had to do with my potential, the strange edge that set me apart from ordinary goblins. Or maybe it was tied to the simple, undeniable truth that I wasn’t from this world at all.

The thought sat heavy in my chest.

Did the Matriarch know? Was that the reason she had chosen me, of all creatures, to shackle her daughter to? If so, then this wasn’t a bond—it was a calculated move, one I didn’t yet understand.

Either way, the whole thing stank.

I shifted my gaze back to Ariel.

Her eyes were half-closed, her breathing uneven but steady, and most of the wounds I had carved into her flesh were already gone, sealed over by the relentless lick of her flames. For all the damage I had inflicted, her body had clawed its way back from the brink, leaving only faint traces of blood in her fur.

It sucked. That was the blunt truth of it. Killing her was no longer an option, not unless I had some hidden desire to take myself down with her.

So what was left?

I exhaled slowly tightening my fist.

There was no use denying it anymore.

I would just have to accept the fact that I had been bonded to this beast, like it or not. Adapt, endure, and keep moving forward with what I have, rather than wasting time chasing what I didn’t.

The fox had recovered enough strength to push herself upright. Her legs trembled beneath her, flames guttering faintly along her fur, but sheer stubbornness dragged her back to her paws. She swayed, breathing hard, then fixed her eyes on me.

”Crazy goblin,” she rasped, her voice rough, smoke curling with every word. ”You almost killed me. Don’t you value your own life?”

I let out a low breath, crouching so my gaze met hers evenly. ”I do,” I said quietly, my tone edged with steel. ”But I can’t say the same for you. You’ve done nothing but throw yours away.”

Her ears flicked back, her jaws clicking together in sharp frustration. I leaned a little closer, my voice cutting through the space between us.

”What exactly did you think would happen when you chose to attack one of mine? Did you expect mercy? Did you expect me to simply stand there and watch?”

For a moment, silence hung heavy.

She turned her head sharply to the side, refusing to meet my eyes.

The tension in her frame was still there, but the weight pressing on her shoulders was heavier than pride.

Her teeth clicked once more, a sharp, brittle sound.

Then she exhaled through her nose and looked away, her tails drooping low.

I didn’t need [Analyze] to read what I was seeing. I could sense it plain as day—helplessness. She had fought with everything she had, but the reality of the gulf between us was undeniable.

And in that moment, with her pride cracked and her defiance faltering, I understood something important: Her mother coming to her aid wasn’t an immediate option or an option at all.

I couldn’t be sure, but the absence was telling.

And honestly, it was a relief.

If the Matriarch had appeared now, I wouldn’t have been equipped to deal with her. Not yet.

Still, the thought lingered like a shadow at the edge of my mind. That threat was out there, and sooner or later it would come. The only way forward was to keep sharpening myself, faster and harder than ever before, so when that day came, I’d be strong enough to face it without flinching.

I straightened slowly, eyes fixed on the fox:

”What are you going to do now... fox? Because I cannot allow you to stay near my clan, not if I believe your only intention is to harm them.”

Her ears flicked back, and she gave me a narrow look. ”And what will you do about it? Kill me? You’d be putting your own life at risk as well.”

I didn’t rise to the bait.

Instead, I said with a steady voice.

”All I ask from you is simple. Keep your claws off my goblins. That is the only thing I require of you. Beyond that, I don’t care what you do. I’m not interested in this bond, nor in...