Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

It was instinct.

A built-in defense that flared to life the instant danger pressed too close, as natural to the beast as the air in its lungs.

But then the thought struck me:

What if the danger comes too quickly?...Pause.

What if it didn’t have the time to trigger that reaction?

I paused, the idea circling in my mind like a hawk over prey.

That might be the key to bringing it down.

Not strength, not a single powerful arrow, but speed — how fast Zarah could fire, how relentless she could become.

If she could unleash shots quicker than the armor could respond, she might finally pierce through.

The best way would be to combine that with distraction, force the beast’s instincts to misfire, make it split its reflexes between feints and true strikes.

But with only two arrows left in her quiver? I doubted she could pull that off.

Without wasting another second, I warped to her perch.

The world shifted, and in an instant, I was crouched on the branch beside her.

She turned sharply, her eyes narrowing, the look she gave me louder than words:

Why are you here?

You wound me with your gaze, Zarah.

”Here,” I said, extending the quiver toward her.

Her eyes narrowed further, suspicion flickering there as though accepting it would mean conceding something.

She hesitated, and for a moment I almost rolled my eyes. Seriously, this female... what exactly was she trying to prove?

”How’d you expect to beat it without arrows? You’d already run out,” I said, my tone sharper than intended.

That seemed to cut through her stubbornness.

She finally took the quiver, her lips parting in a quiet, almost reluctant, ”Thank you.”

I watched as she drew several shafts from the bundle and slid them into her own quiver with practiced ease, the small gesture settling something tight in my chest.

When she rose again, the hesitation I’d seen in her earlier was gone. Her posture straightened, her grip on the bow firm, and her expression carried a determination that was sharper, braver.

And then she surprised me.

Without a word, Zarah stepped off the branch, dropping to a lower one, then another, using each to bleed away her momentum.

When she was close enough that the fall wouldn’t shatter her legs, she leapt cleanly, landing in a crouch.

Right into the clearing where the beast waited, she strode forward with steady steps, bow already raised.

My brows furrowed as frustration welled through me.

What was she thinking?

But I forced myself to calm down.

I was jumping to conclusions.

Zarah wasn’t reckless, and she wasn’t suicidal.

She wouldn’t act without a plan. The expression of focus on her face gave reason.

Her landing snapped the Rock Strider’s attention instantly. Its head whipped toward her, feathers bristling, talons gouging the dirt as its entire body tensed to strike.

But that wasn’t all it caught.

An arrow, loosed the instant her boots touched soil, cut through the air with vicious precision and slammed directly into the center of its face.

CLANG!

The sound rang out like metal striking metal, the shaft shattering against the stone hide that surged over its head at the last possible instant.

The beast screeched in outrage, a piercing cry that rattled the branches, and then it lunged, its massive body hurtling straight toward Zarah with terrifying speed.

My muscles clenched instinctively, every nerve screaming for me to blink in and pull her out.

My hand twitched, ready to fold space at the first sign she couldn’t handle it.

But to my surprise — and utter confusion — Zarah didn’t retreat.

Instead, she stepped forward, lifted her chin, and let out a guttural howl.

[Roar of Intimidation].

What the hell? That was my skill.

Of course it was. I had shared it with all my goblins, along with a couple of others.

The Rock Strider faltered, its advance stuttering as though caught under a sudden trance. Its body quivered, head jerking as the force of her roar clawed at its instincts.

The hesitation lasted only a second, but that was all she needed.

Her bow thrummed, arrows flying in rapid succession.

One sliced across its cheek, drawing blood, while the others struck against its conjured armor, sparking off stone with dull, useless clangs.

The beast shrieked, its form blurring as it invoked [Blitz Step].

In the blink of an eye it closed the distance, towering frame suddenly upon her. And with a vicious beat of its wings, it lifted and unleashed a flurry of kicks.

The strikes shot forward like pounding missiles, each one strong enough to splinter rock and shatter bone.

But Zarah was ready.

She flung up a hand, and a shimmering barrier enveloped her form.

[Mana Shield].

Another skill I had shared with her.

The Rock Strider’s kicks hammered into the barrier one after another, the force reverberating like thunder.

Would it hold? For a fleeting moment, I thought it might.

Then...

CRACK!

Jagged lines spiderwebbed across the shimmering surface, mana flickering violently as the shield began to buckle.

My conclusion shifted instantly. No, it would not hold. Not for long.

But Zarah didn’t freeze nor panic.

She wasn’t idle while the barrier strained.

Even as it shuddered under the pounding, she kept her bow steady and loosed three more arrows.

They struck point-blank, shafts slamming into the beast’s chest and side. Two thudded uselessly against its conjured armor, sparks flashing as they shattered, while the third veered wide, sailing past entirely.

I narrowed my eyes.

How the hell had that missed? From point-blank range?

My jaw clenched.

Lock in, Zarah. You can’t afford to falter here.

The Rock Strider’s stone hide flickered and vanished.

Without pause, the avian blurred again, reappearing directly in front of her, beak raised, eyes locked mercilessly on its prey.

Then it struck, snapping forward with enough force to punch through bark and bone alike.

But Zarah wasn’t there.

Gone.

For a split second, my chest seized, then I caught on.

She had slipped into [Stealth], another skill I had shared.

Seeing Zarah utilize this skill so made me relieved.

With it, Zarah, along with my goblins, was starting to grow into something more, dangerous enough to stand on the same field as other Chosen.

The Rock Strider jerked its head side to side, screeching, talons gouging trenches into the dirt as it searched frantically for its prey.

Then, suddenly, Zarah reemerged behind it, bow drawn taut, arrow nocked and glinting.

Her stance was steady, her expression sharper than I’d ever seen.

But that wasn’t what caught my attention.

It was the sound of a whistling arrow — the very one I thought Zarah had misfired earlier — now curving back, arcing unnaturally through the air.

I was wrong.

The arrow had never missed at all.

My mouth fell open. Disbelief flooded through me.

No way...

I realized then what she was about to do.

Zarah loosed her volley, the bowstring snapping with a satisfying twang.

The Rock Strider reacted instantly, stone plates surging across its feathers.

[Stone Hide] flared, and the arrows clattered harmlessly away.

But the moment the rocky shell flickered out, the stray arrow returned. Its flight was unnatural, deliberate — homing.

And this time, the Rock Strider didn’t conjure its armor.

The reflex I had thought was absolute failed, and the arrow tore straight into its skull with brutal force.

SHHIEEUK!

The tip burst clean out the top of its head, glistening with blood.

The beast froze mid-motion, body trembling, a strangled gasp breaking from its beak.

Zarah didn’t hesitate.

She nocked, drew, and fired again.

The shaft buried deep into its head, sealing its death.

With a final stagger, the monstrous avian toppled sideways, talons gouging trenches as its body hit the ground with a resounding thud.

The Rock Strider lay still. Dead.

I gasped sharply as I watched it unfold.

So that was it.

The Rock Strider’s [Stone Hide] wasn’t endless — it had a cooldown.

And Zarah, sharp as ever, had figured it out mid-battle and acted with deadly precision.

One well-timed shot, and the beast that had seemed untouchable lay dead at her feet.

I was awed. Truly.

She wasn’t just capable; she was remarkable.

With a thought, I warped, folding space until I appeared in front of her. She hadn’t moved, still standing with her bow in hand, chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of adrenaline.

If she could do this, if she could see through battle like that... there was no doubt.

She had reached the threshold.

I called on [Analyze].

[Zarah | Level 11 | Goblin Archer]

Status: Undergoing Evolution

My brows knit. Evolution?

But nothing was happening.

She just stood there, no glow, no shift, no transformation. Just Zarah, steady and silent, her bow still lowered at her side.

What was going on?

I muttered under my breath, impatient with the stillness.

And then the evolution began.

Seriously, I needed to learn patience.

Zarah dropped to her knees, her bow clattering as a greenish aura burst from her body, seeping into the air like smoke from fire.

The energy pulsed, alive and raw, making the ground itself hum faintly.

Then she screamed.

”Aaaaargh!”

The sound tore from her chest, raw and unrestrained, and goosebumps rippled down my arms.

It wasn’t just pain in that cry — it was transformation, a body reshaping into something greater.

”Holy shit... it’s really happening,” I breathed, excitement rushing through me so quickly it almost made me laugh.

My hands curled into fists, not out of tension but sheer anticipation.

I couldn’t wait to see the Zarah that would emerge.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t come out of scarier than she already was.

Zarah’s...