Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

But before I could return the gesture, Zarah slipped her hand from mine.

She lowered her head and hurried to the far side of the chamber.

Thok and Zhok watched her go, faces folded into the kind of confused expressions that only widened the silence.

”Continue with what you’re doing,” I said flatly, leaving no room for questions. They obeyed without hesitation, bowing before returning to their task

I turned away as well, but had barely taken a step when something at the edge of the shadows caught my eye.

My body tightened before my mind registered it and I almost jumped.

An ugly, hunched-back goblin stood there, half-hidden by the gloom.

Her frame was twisted, but her gaze was sharp and steady, full of a suspicion that didn’t blink.

The silence stretched until it felt like pressure in my chest.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

”What?” I asked, sharper than I meant to be.

”Young totem,” she said, voice dry but edged with curiosity. ”Zarah seems...different today. Lighter. Almost giddy. What did you do?”

I shifted under her stare.

”Nothing. We just swam.”

Her eyes narrowed.

”And?”

I tightened my jaw, already regretting the answer. ”I got her to evolve.”

Flogga tilted her head, patient and relentless.

”And?”

My lips flattened. ”We kissed.”

Her silence hung between us, heavier than any question. I sighed and let irritation bleed through.

”Isn’t the rest obvious?”

”Hm.” She didn’t say more, but the way she kept looking at me made the room feel colder. There was something in her gaze I couldn’t place — not anger, not approval, but a prickly mix of both that unsettled me more than a shout ever would.

”I can’t tell if you’re mad or pleased,” I admitted, voice tight as I tried and failed to read her.

”I do not know myself,” she said after a pause, her tone leaning toward sarcasm. ”It is strange to hear my granddaughter’s lover tell me so casually that he has lain with her.”

I bristled.

”I didn’t tell you I mated with her. I didn’t say we had sex. That’s your assumption.”

Her brows lifted, amused more than convinced. ”Is that so?”

I met her stare. ”Fine. Yes — I had sex with her. Happy?”

Flogga turned away, leaning heavier on her staff.

The sarcasm dropped out of her voice; what remained was quieter, steadier. ”Forget the words. Just...take care of her when I’m gone.”

”Gone? Are you going somewhere?”

”I’m old, young totem. Death walks close behind me.”

Each word was slow and rough, practiced into the certainty of someone who has thought about it for a long time.

”That is true,” I said. And the bluntness made her click her teeth.

Shewalked away.

But I yelled:

”Wait,” jogging the few paces to reach her.

Then I lowered my voice until it was almost a breath. ”I’m attacking the enemy tonight.”

She froze, brow knitting in sharp skepticism. ”So soon?”

”I can’t afford to wait. Last time they struck earlier than anyone expected. This time I’ll hit first.”

She considered that, then nodded once.

”Understandable.”

Her answer was small and practical, but the way she looked at me made it clear my words had landed harder than she let on.

She lifted a hand as if to end the conversation:

”I’ll send someone with a meal. Eat before you go.” The order was blunt and efficient — the kind that comes from years of knowing what steadies a man before a fight.

I nodded and went to my quarters.

The room smelled of smoke and old leather; smoke smell definitely the fault of the ember fox..

I tried to rest a but, to pull my thoughts into rest, but the night only tightened my jaw and sharpened every small sound.

Later, Thok rapped and slipped inside with a battered bowl of soup dotted with potato chunks and slivers of meat that looked like they’d been scavenged from the last of the larder. It wasn’t pretty — a thin broth and stringy meat — but hunger straightened everything, and I ate like a man with no time to be picky.

The flavor surprised me: what looked watery tasted rich, the potatoes soft enough to melt and the meat carrying enough salt and fat to feel like honest food. I licked the last of the broth from the rim and set the bowl down feeling something human again. A loud belch escaped me; crude, but honest. I was full.

I stood, the weight in my stomach anchoring me for what came next, and headed for the door. The air shifted — warm and sharp with ash — before she even appeared.

Ariel, the ember fox, glided in with that sly sway of hers, fiery hair catching the light like sparks.

”You seem to be going somewhere,” she said casually, but her eyes were too sharp to be idle.

I said nothing. Her games weren’t worth the map of my plans.

”I’m bored,” she went on, almost sing-song, lips curling. ”Take me with you.”

No answer.

”You’re not going to talk to me?” she jabbed, looking for a reaction.

I kept my silence. She’d made it clear the clan’s safety wasn’t her concern; I wasn’t handing her my plans for the sake of politeness.

She clicked her teeth like someone sharpening a blade. ”You do know our lives are linked, right? If you’re doing something dangerous, I should be involved.”

”The enemy clan. I’m attacking them,” I said bluntly.

”Take me with you.”

”No.”

”If you don’t, I’ll find a way to get myself killed — and then you’ll die too.”

”A bluff,” I said flatly, not bothering to hide my skepticism.

”I seriously will,” she shot back, voice sharp though amusement flickered in her eyes, like she enjoyed the argument more than the threat.

”You don’t have the balls,” I said, letting the words land heavy on purpose.

She cocked her head, ears twitching in genuine confusion. ”What? Balls?”

I exhaled and let the point drop. ”Forget it.”

She pouted for a second before the sly mask slid back into place. ”Please. Because of your tricks, I can’t have fun with your goblins. The others don’t mind.”

Her words tightened something in my jaw, but I held my gaze. ”Why didn’t you help when my clan was in danger?” I asked, voice quieter but harder than anger.

For a moment her smile faded, and something like honesty slipped out. ”I was in pain. That made me spiteful.”

”Did you try to break the oath?” I asked; I already suspected the answer.

She brushed it off as if a shrug could erase the weight of the question. ”That’s not the point. The point is I want to help now.”

Help. I didn’t trust it. After everything, her promises sat about as well as a stone in my mouth — heavy and likely to choke me.

Still, the pragmatist in me counted options. I’d rather have her beside me than smiling at my goblins and waiting for a misstep. The oath might stop her from slitting throats, but it couldn’t stop her from sowing doubt, whispering half-truths, or leading danger our way by carelessness or design. That kind of damage was quieter and just as deadly.

I let the silence do some of the work. Finally: ”Fine,” I said, slow and hard so each syllable would be heard. ”But if you get in my way, you get cut along with the enemy.”

She grinned, sharp and unbothered, but before she could say another word. Zarah stepped in. Her lips curved in a smile that froze the moment her eyes landed on Ariel. The warmth drained from her face so quickly it was almost painful to watch. She wasn’t a fan of the ember fox — none of my goblins were. Ariel was an outsider, a thorn they all had to live with because of the bond that tied her to me. They didn’t trust her, and I couldn’t blame them. Still, because I couldn’t sever that bond, they had no choice but to accept her presence, no matter how bitter it tasted.

Flogga and Narg came in a moment later, the old goblin leaning heavy on her staff while the shaman followed close behind, his eyes already heavy with the weight of what was coming.

”Are you prepared?” Flogga asked, her voice rasping, though steadier than her frame suggested.

”Always,” I responded.

Flogga began rummaging through the small pouch strapped to her side, her gnarled fingers pulling out a few glass vials and bundles wrapped in cloth. She pressed them into my hand one by one — potions that smelled faintly of herbs and iron, along with a couple of crude but carefully crafted charms she must have forged herself.

”Thank you,” I said, tucking them away into my inventory. ”I’ll put it to use.”

She gave a short nod, no words wasted, and I knew it was her way of saying she’d done all she could.

”Alright...” I raised my hand to the group, my tone sharp enough to cut through the unease lingering in the room. ”I will be back soon.”

”Good luck, Chief,” Narg said, his voice heavy with sincerity. ”May Drugar be with you.”

I answered with a single nod, the kind that carried both promise and finality, before turning my attention elsewhere.

Zarah stood off to the side, her head bowed, her shoulders drawn in as though she was trying to shrink against the weight pressing down on her. Worry clung to her like a shadow she couldn’t shake.

I walked toward her, my steps deliberate, and only then did she lift her head, her eyes meeting mine.

I reached out and let my fingers brush lightly through Zarah’s hair, smoothing it where it had fallen sideways across her face. The gesture was small, almost nothing, yet it carried the weight of everything I couldn’t put into words.

”I’ll be fine,” I told her quietly. ”Wait for me.”

Color rushed into her cheeks, the faintest blush blooming as her lips parted, though she said nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught Flogga watching in silence, her expression unreadable, while Narg looked as if the sight had knocked the wind out of him — wide-eyed, stunned.

I drew in a steadying breath and turned away before the moment could linger.

Ariel waited, smug as always, her fiery presence filling the space like smoke that wouldn’t clear.

I walked to her side, exhaled once more to steady myself, then laid my palm against her body.

Closing my eyes, I reached for the thread of power woven into the seal I had carved onto one of the enemy goblins.

The connection flared alive, a tether pulling taut across the void.

And I let it drag me through, the chamber blurring in an instant.