Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

”I beg your pardon?” he asked, his tone teetering between disbelief and panic.

”You heard me,” I said, calm and deliberate. ”You and I. We’re going there.”

He blinked at me like I’d just asked him to wrestle a dragon naked. Then, slowly, almost comically, his head turned toward Flogga and Narg—seeking confirmation, maybe hoping one of them would tell him I was joking or that I’d taken a knock to the head.

But both of them sat quietly, unreadable. Flogga scratched her arm. Narg yawned.

Seriously?

Were they deaf? Did they not hear the madness I just spoke? Or had they just accepted this level of insanity as my default now?

Gork finally turned back to me, eyes wide, voice cracking.

”I’d really rather not go there.”

”Why?” I asked, raising a brow, though I already knew. ”Is that a problem?”

”It is... it’s a suicide mission,” he said quietly. ”Their clan is far more advanced than ours. They’re surrounded by fortified walls reinforced with magic, and goblins keep constant watch from the top. They send scouts out every day to patrol the surroundings and neutralize threats before they get close. Their defenses are... impeccable.”

Impeccable, huh?

”If it was that strong, then what exactly was Jael’s plan to get the garnets?” I asked. ”You mentioned he was going to handle it, and that I showed up and ruined things.”

Gork shook his head quickly, almost panicked at the idea that this was my fault alone.

”No—no, Chief, we never planned to raid their base directly. That would’ve been impossible for us. The chief of the clan had stopped going out to hunt monsters because the King Game was too close. He believed other goblin clans would attempt to assassinate him so they could steal a candidate slot.”

Reasonable enough.

”But,” Gork continued, ”we found out he was going out this one time to gain a few levels. So we planned to ambush him outside his territory. With him dead, Jael would inherit the garnet automatically—every chosen who becomes a candidate receives one. Killing him was the only realistic chance we had. Storming the clan was never part of the plan.”

”Oh, is that so,” I said, leaning back slightly.

Gork nodded quickly, relief washing over his face like he thought he’d finally talked some sense into me.

But I wasn’t letting this go.

”It’s not impossible for me though,” I added calmly.

That relief vanished instantly.

Gork looked like I’d just slapped him across the face with a wet rag.

”Chief...” he started, his voice tight with concern, ”I know you’re strong, probably stronger than Jael ever was, but this... this is just too much.”

”What is?” I asked, keeping my tone steady. ”Getting past their defenses? I think I can manage that with my ability.”

He frowned, clearly skeptical.

”The barrier created by the garnet—it’s not ordinary magic. It repels anything laced with mana. It doesn’t matter how strong your spell or ability is, the garnet’s warding field nullifies it. Even someone like you, Chief, your warp skill... it won’t work if you try to blink through. It’ll strip the magic from it and shut it down. That’s how their perimeter holds.”

So that’s how deep it ran.

Interesting.

But I wasn’t convinced.

”Then I’d sneak in somehow using the front gate,” I answered, my tone flat.

Gork blinked at me, stunned, and shook his head even harder than before. Realizing he wasn’t getting through on the subject of barriers, he switched tactics entirely.

”Chief, even if you could get in, the goblins in that clan aren’t weak. Even their average fighters have decent combat training, and they’re extremely organized. They move in groups, communicate, rotate shifts, the works. It’s impossible.”

”Impossible?” I repeated with a small scoff. ”Can their organization stop a man who can teleport into their midst in an instant and throw their entire formation into chaos? Can their organization stop a hand that decays whatever it touches? Can their organization stop a black hole ripping through their lines?”

I shook my head slightly.

”I doubt that.”

Gork opened his mouth, probably to throw another argument at me, but I didn’t let him.

”If attacking directly is impossible,” I continued, ”then I don’t even have to enter their camp. I can simply stand outside their walls and make their lives miserable. Kill every scout they send out. Hit them over and over. Bleed their numbers until the chief has no choice but to come out.”

I leaned back slightly, letting that sink in.

”I don’t need to storm the fortress if I can force the king to walk out of it.”

The room fell quiet.

Gork seemed to be done trying to talk me out of it.

So I placed both hands on the table and declared:

”Then it’s settled. We strike tomorrow.”

”You’re talking like it’s that easy,” Gork muttered under his breath, clearly rattled, his voice trailing off like he didn’t want to say it too loud.

”It is,” I replied, not flinching. ”If you truly understood the extent of what I can do... you wouldn’t doubt me.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared.

There was a weight behind his gaze, one I recognized all too well.

The kind of look someone gives when their mind is stuck comparing two images: one of the enemy they fear... and one of the ally they’re still not sure can win.

And in that comparison, I wasn’t winning.

Not yet.

He still saw the other clan’s might as something greater—heavier, more tangible than mine.

But I wasn’t bothered. Not really.

”Getting those garnets won’t be a problem, Gork,” I said, letting my tone carry the confidence he clearly lacked. ”I just need you to point me in the direction of the base.”

I paused.

”I’ll handle everything else.”

He let out a heavy breath, one that seemed to carry the weight of everything he’d been holding back, and I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed.

”Did you forget I made an oath not to let you do anything that would intentionally lead to your death?” I reminded him to give him confidence.

”Do not worry, ” I said.

But then...