Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

There wasn’t much to argue about.

It was the fastest, most reliable way to meet the requirement without wasting time, and right now, time was something we couldn’t afford to be careless with. I glanced toward Flogga out of habit, checking if she had any issue with her suggestion being set aside, but she looked perfectly fine.

If anything, she seemed entertained.

Which only confirmed what I already suspected—

She had thrown that out there just to mess with us.

And, annoyingly enough, it worked.

Because even now, that thought hadn’t fully left my mind.

I might actually be a father soon.

I pushed that aside before it could take hold again.

”Then I know the location of at least two small goblin clans,” Gork said.

I turned toward him, a bit surprised.

”You do?”

He nodded.

”Jael used to send scouts out to map surrounding areas—places we hadn’t reached yet. That’s how we expanded before. There are still a few clans we never got around to dealing with. At least two, possibly more. We just didn’t have the time to act on them with everything focused on the games.”

That lined up.

”Good,” I said, a faint smile forming as things started falling into place. ”Once we’re done here, we’ll plan a move toward them.”

”I have a question, though,” Narg said suddenly, his tone even but pointed. ”Why didn’t you bring this up earlier? It would have been useful.”

Gork’s eyes narrowed slightly.

”The answer is simple,” he replied. ”The situation didn’t warrant it.”

Narg didn’t look convinced.

”It sounds more like you’re holding back information that could help the clan.”

Gork didn’t react immediately. He just held Narg’s gaze for a second before responding.

”If I were holding anything back,” he said calmly, ”then I wouldn’t have told the Chief about the garnets, or led him to the clan that had them in the first place.”

”That doesn’t prove anything,” Narg replied. ”Who knows what you choose to reveal and what you don’t?”

”Enough,” I cut in, my voice firm enough to stop it before it went any further.

I looked between them, then settled on Narg.

”Gork has given us more than enough reason to trust him,” I said. ”And even if you have doubts, don’t ignore the fact that his information has already helped us.”

Narg held my gaze for a moment, then inclined his head slightly.

”Of course, Chief. I was only pointing out what I observed. No insult intended.”

”Of course you were,” Gork replied, his tone polite—but not warm.

I let out a quiet breath.

This wasn’t new.

There had always been tension between Narg and Gork—and not just with him. Narg carried that same edge when dealing with most of the other Chosen.

Zarah had been the same at first, but getting closer to Talia had eased that edge over time, softening the way she reacted to the others and making things less strained.

With Narg, though—

It hadn’t changed.

I didn’t know exactly why he carried that level of caution. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was experience. Or maybe he simply understood something fundamental about goblins—that when it came down to it, they would always move toward what benefited them most. And if they were ever put in a position where loyalty and advantage clashed, there was no guarantee which one they would choose.

That kind of thinking wasn’t entirely wrong.

But my relationship with Gork didn’t hinge on loyalty in the first place.

If anything, it was closer to something more controlled.

There was an understanding between us, unspoken but clear enough—if he ever made a move that compromised the clan, then that would be the end of him. Simple.

And because of that, the tension didn’t need to exist.

But I wasn’t in a hurry to remove it either.

If there was even the smallest flaw in the oath I had them swear, a gap I hadn’t noticed or something that could be twisted under the right conditions, then someone needed to be watching for it.

And Narg was already doing that.

”I also have something that might help us going forward,” Narg said, breaking the silence as he reached into his storage and pulled out a stack of papers, each one marked with unfamiliar symbols.

They weren’t ordinary.

Even at a glance, there was a structure to them—intent behind the markings, not just decoration.

Talismans.

He handed them over, and the moment they touched my hand, I activated [Analyze].

Item: Soulshade Sigil

Type: Binding / Communication Relic

Description:

A soul-bound talisman that assigns a unique color signature—referred to as a Chroma—to its holder upon activation. This Chroma functions as both identification and signal within a linked network.

When the holder is placed in mortal danger and deliberately tears or fractures the talisman, it releases a burst of colored smoke tied to their assigned Chroma.

That signal doesn’t remain local.

It manifests simultaneously across all linked talismans, allowing every connected holder to recognize who is in danger instantly—no matter the distance, no need for direct sight, no need for words.

My eyes widened slightly as I finished reading through the description, the weight of what I was holding settling in properly.

”This… this is really useful, Narg.”

”What is it?” Flogga asked, leaning forward with interest, and Narg took it upon himself to explain, breaking it down in simpler terms for the others.

As he spoke, it became clearer just how much this solved.

It addressed one of my biggest concerns.

Whenever I left the clan—whenever I moved out alone or operated away from them—I had no real way of knowing what was happening back here in real time. If something went wrong, if they were attacked or caught in a situation they couldn’t handle, I wouldn’t know until it was too late.

I couldn’t be in two places at once.

But this...this changed that.

If any one of them was pushed into a situation where their life was on the line, all they had to do was break the talisman, and I would know immediately. The signal wouldn’t depend on distance or visibility; it would reach me no matter where I was.

And more importantly, I...