Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

”Scary,” I muttered under my breath, eyes fixed on the spreading devastation.

The black ink crawled like a living plague, devouring everything it touched. The earth blistered, the air warped, and the stench of death grew so thick it felt like I was breathing through rot itself.

But then, something in the distance caught my attention that made me freeze.

The tide of corruption wasn’t just spreading at random anymore; it was flowing downhill, carving a path toward the valley where the clan’s encampment lay. Toward the tents.

My heart dropped.

Ariel, and the goblins. His daughter, his clan.

Unless they come out of the tent, they would only sense the tremor but not the doom rushing toward them.

My pulse kicked hard in my chest. ”No... no, no, no—”

If that ink reached them, it wouldn’t just kill. It would erase. Nothing would remain. No cries, no bodies. Just dust.

”Stop!” I shouted, voice cutting through the howl of wind and energy. ”You’ll harm your own goblins!”

But Jael didn’t even flinch.

He stood in the middle of the corruption like a dark god reborn, tendrils coiling around him, eyes blazing with madness.

Whatever part of him that possibly cared about the clan—their loyalty, their lives—was gone now, devoured by the same hunger that consumed the land.

”Jael!” I yelled again, louder this time, but it was pointless. He wasn’t listening. Maybe he couldn’t.

I wasn’t even sure I was talking to Jael anymore.

What stood before me was no longer a goblin chief, but a hulking silhouette made entirely of black. The tendrils had merged with his flesh, swallowing his armor, his features—everything that made him who he was.

It was like staring at a corpse possessed by something ancient.

”Your daughter is in there,” I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos.

For a moment, the creature froze.

The inky mass rippled, almost... reacting.

The wave of corruption halted mid-crawl, quivering as if something deep inside it hesitated.

But only for a second.

Then, in a warped, echoing voice that didn’t belong to Jael, it spoke:

”Consume everything!”

The tone sent a chill down my spine—it wasn’t just rage. It was command.

Hollow, layered, like a dozen voices speaking at once from the pit of some abyss.

The ink lurched forward again, spreading faster than before.

”Yeah,” I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip on my blade. ”That’s definitely not Jael anymore.”

I sighed:

Typical.

Another one who’d rather lose his mind to his own power than accept defeat like a sane being. Always makes things harder for me.

Amon, the start of all this, had done the same thing, letting his power consume him until he was nothing but a monster wearing his own skin. And now Jael, at the very end, was following the same pathetic path.

How ironic.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of it all pressing into my chest. I hadn’t wanted it to come to this. I still wanted answers—about Drugar, about the system, about what any of this truly meant. But there was no reasoning with whatever that thing was now.

And with Ariel and Talia still somewhere near the encampment, I couldn’t risk another second of hesitation. If that corruption reached them, it would erase everything.

The rest of the clan? I didn’t care much. But those two... I wasn’t losing them.

So, that was that. The conversation was over.

I drew in a deep breath, channeling everything—void, fire, rage—into my blade. The weapon hummed like a storm trapped in metal, the edges bending light itself as the energy built to a sharp, violent peak.

With one sharp exhale, I swung.

The rift slash tore through the air, howling as it split the ground in its path before slamming straight into Jael’s chest. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the mountain, shaking the air itself.

But what happened next stopped me cold.

The energy connected... and did nothing.

No explosion.

No disintegration.

No tearing apart of flesh or armor.

The rift energy—my strongest, most reliable attack—just sank into him, swallowed whole like a drop of water vanishing into tar.

My brow furrowed. ”What the hell...?”

What the actual hell.

The rift slash had definitely connected, but instead of splitting him apart like it should have, the energy had merely carved a shallow wound across his chest before vanishing.

The black ink covering his body writhed almost instantly, seeping into the damaged area, knitting it back together until even the mark was gone.

It wasn’t regeneration.

It was something worse—corruption eating the injury before it could exist. That sounded horrifying.

My grip tightened on the hilt as disbelief crawled through me.

What was this transformation?

How could he possibly withstand a dimensional strike?

Then I heard it.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

The sound of trees collapsing echoed through the valley.

I turned, scanning the ridge, and my stomach twisted at the sight before me.

The black ink was spreading faster now, rolling down the mountainside in thick, tar-like waves. Every tree it touched crumbled into gray husks before disintegrating completely, their leaves curling into ash midair. Even the soil beneath them turned pale and brittle, as if the life had been drained straight out of it.

I watched as entire patches of forest withered within seconds, the once-green slope transforming into a field of decay.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Jael was doing. He was feeding.

Every living thing within reach—trees, roots, grass, even the smallest insects—was being drained dry.

Their life force flowed straight into him, thickening the ink that wrapped his body and twisting it into something even darker.

The air itself seemed to recoil from him, vibrating with a pressure that made my lungs ache.

His power wasn’t just rising—it was evolving.

A sharp pulse of unease shot through me, spreading across my skin like static.

My instincts screamed at me to back off, and [Danger Sense] joined the chorus, flaring so violently that every nerve in my body lit up with a prickling burn.

But...