Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

[Focus] was good in its own way. It sharpened clarity, steadied thoughts, and kept my perception from scattering when everything turned chaotic.

But even with that, I knew Zivra’s ability wasn’t something simple.

Her pressure didn’t just disorient; it tore straight through mental defenses like they were wet paper. I could almost still feel the memory of it crawling under my skin, gripping my thoughts as if it had fingers.

Whereas with [Unyielding Will], or more accurately the higher-ranked version I intended to push it toward, my entire mental core would harden in a way that made her pressure far less likely to crack me.

The skill didn’t just steady the mind; it held it together when something tried to pry it apart.

It prevented my thoughts from collapsing into panic, resisted any attempt to dominate or hijack my consciousness, and created what felt like a ”will anchor,” a stubborn, immovable weight sitting deep in my mind that refused to shift no matter what pressed against it.

If there was any skill in my arsenal that could keep me standing against Zivra’s mindbreak, it was this one.

A slow wave of relief settled into my chest, the kind you only feel when you finally spot a lifeline you didn’t realize you had.

I had been genuinely worried, because if someone like Zivra could hit me that hard, then someone stronger—or someone with an even sharper version of her ability—could do worse. And in this world, I was sure there were others out there with mind-focused abilities far more dangerous than hers.

But now, with these two skills sitting in my list, ready to be improved and molded into something formidable, I felt a little more certain of myself. A little more prepared.

And with the number of advancement points I had stored up, raising their ranks wouldn’t be a problem at all, so my confidence only grew.

Moving with that steady confidence, I shifted my attention back to what mattered next: assigning the skills.

There was no point in overthinking it. I had already broken my head trying to match each skill to the right goblin, and dragging it out any longer would only make me second-guess myself for no real reason.

Besides, if I made a mistake, I could simply unshare the skill later and adjust it.

The system wasn’t rigid, and neither did I need to treat it like it was some irreversible life decision.

There was nothing here to be nervous about.

With that settled, I switched my title to [The Chosen Leader], and immediately the [Skill Share] tab slid into view, waiting for me to tap it. I clicked it.

A prompt appeared right after.

[Would you like to share your skills with your goblins?]

”Yes,” I said, and the next window unfolded in front of me.

[Which skill would you like to share?]

The passive list rolled down like a neatly stacked menu:

Passive Skills: [Analyze (N)] [Iron Fist (E)] [Roar of Intimidation (C)] [Iron Persistence (C)] [Illusion Resistance (C)] [Battle Instinct (B)] [Unyielding Will (C)] [Blood Resilience (B)] [Poison Craft (C)] [Graveborn Nexus (A)] [Cryomantle Core (A)] [Agony Furnace (B)] [Geomantle Core (B)] [Toxic Core (B)][Osteomancer Core (B)] [Inferno Core (A)] [Umbral Ink Core (A)] [Cursed Regeneration] [Apex Sight (B)] [Focus]

Active Skills: [Stealth (C)] [Mana Shield (B)] [Flame Orb (C)] [Warcry (C)] [Inferno Lance (C)] [Muscle Strengthening] [Sonic Roar] [Beserker Frenzy] [Shock Pulse] [Water Piston] [Decay] [Blackflame Surge] [Soulrot Hex] [Witherfield] [Spirit Leech] [Gravebound] [Frost Vein (C)] [Chill Rush (B)] [Pain Rush (A)] [Pain Channeling (C)] [Redline Surge (B)] [Agony Overdrive (A)][ [Bone Forge] [Bone Edge (C)][Osteo Shield (B)][Warlord Frame (A)] [Toxic Core] [Venom Burst (C)][Acid Vein (B)][Plague Reactor (A)][Stone Plate] [Earthguard Layer (C)][Granite Coat (B)][Living Bulwark (B)] [Hellbrand (A)] [Heatwave Pulse (C)] [Inferno Domain (A)] [Overheat Ascension (S)] [Deathroot (S)] [ Black Grasp (C)] [Ink Consumption (A] [Abyssal Spread (S)] [Predators Focus (C)] [Kill Line (C)] [Heartseeker Aim (B)} Predator Instinct (B)

First of all, every passive skill I owned was going to be shared with my goblins, except for one—Toxic Core—which was meant for Flogga alone. Everything else was fair game.

Most of my passives were life-saving or stabilizing skills, and they didn’t demand any special training or combat style to use properly.

They simply sat in the background and worked when needed.

Because of that, there was no point trying to ”optimize” or ”specialize” anything here. If a passive could keep one of them alive in a bad moment, then it deserved to be in their hands.

Who knew when any of these skills could become the difference between life and death?

So I selected all of my passive skills.

Right after that, the system displayed the list of every goblin in my clan, the names stretching out in neat columns. I tapped ”select all”, then manually deselected Flogga since she was getting something different, and hit share with the confidence of someone who thought the system would just do its job quietly.

Instead, a notification slapped me in the face.

Ding!

[You cannot share more than 10 skills with a goblin]

[Goblin must be level 50 or higher to increase this limit.]

I froze.

”Are you serious?”

The word slipped out of me before I could even stop it.

For a moment, I just stared at the prompt, feeling that jolt of surprise settle into something calmer. I should have known the system wouldn’t let me abuse Skill Share endlessly.

Being able to hand out an unlimited set of abilities would have tilted the entire balance of the world so far in my favor that it wouldn’t even be funny. It made sense that there had to be a ceiling somewhere.

Still, even with the limit, giving each goblin ten skills—ten Chosen-level skills—was more than enough to reshape my entire clan.

So I pushed the annoyance aside and cancelled the share panel, focusing on choosing which passives were worth the ten slots as the first step before distribution.

The first was obvious...