Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

This wasn’t something I could decide on impulse.

From a practical standpoint, the advantages were obvious. Accepting them would push me closer to meeting the required number of Chosen, and from there, it would only take a few more goblins to complete the count needed for the King’s Games. On paper, it was efficient… almost too convenient.

But that wasn’t the part that bothered me.

It was the risk.

Letting them into the clan wasn’t just about numbers or strength—it meant bringing in individuals with their own loyalties, their own histories, and, more importantly, their own intentions. No matter what they said, no matter what oaths they swore, that didn’t automatically erase what they felt or what they might choose to act on later.

And goblins with even a trace of hostile intent…

That kind of presence could rot a clan from the inside.

It wouldn’t show immediately, but over time, it would affect everything—the way they interacted, the trust between members, the overall cohesion that held them together. A single fracture in that balance was enough to cause problems down the line.

Sure, I could force them into submission through oaths—bind them to serve, to protect, to obey—but that would only control their actions, not their mindset. And if their mindset clashed with the rest of the clan, then all I’d be doing was planting tension right at the core of what I was building.

That kind of instability…

It wasn’t something I could ignore.

If I were going to do this, then things couldn’t stay the way they were. There would have to be structure, something stricter than what I had now—clear rules, defined hierarchies, something that left no room for ambiguity or conflict of authority.

Because this world didn’t reward hesitation.

It wasn’t kind, it wasn’t forgiving, and it definitely wasn’t fair.

It was a world where the strong ruled and the weak followed—or got crushed.

And if I was going to lead in a place like this, then I couldn’t afford to be either soft… or careless.

But even with all that running through my head…

I still couldn’t bring myself to make the decision. Or more accurately, I didn’t want to—not yet.

This wasn’t something I had to shoulder alone, and acting like it was would only make things worse in the long run. I had people I trusted, people who had been with me from the start—Flogga, Narg, Zarah. Each of them saw things differently, and if I was going to take a step like this, then I needed their input before committing to anything.

So I made my choice.

”I’ll consider your proposal, Caius,” I said, keeping my tone measured as I met his gaze. ”I’ll give you an answer after I discuss it with my clan.”

He had made his case well, laid out the advantages, made his intentions clear, and backed it up in a way that didn’t feel empty. That much, I could acknowledge.

But that still didn’t make this a simple yes.

”Is that so…” Caius said, before pushing himself to his feet in one smooth motion. ”Then we’ll wait for your response.”

I watched him for a second as he stood there, composed as ever.

”But…” I added, letting the word hang just long enough to draw his attention back fully. ”I can’t just leave you here to do as you please.”

That made him frown slightly, not in offense, but in understanding.

”Who knows what you might do once I’m gone,” I continued, my tone even, but firm.

It wasn’t paranoia.

It was common sense.

All it would take was one of them deciding to slip away, to carry information back to Raghul, and everything I had built here would be exposed. The location, the defenses, the numbers—everything.

And that…

That wasn’t something I was willing to risk.

”So you’re coming with me… as prisoners.”

”Prisoners?” Caius repeated, a hint of surprise slipping through his otherwise controlled expression.

”Don’t you think that’s going too far?” Kharos cut in, his annoyance clear, the tension in his stance rising as he took a step forward...

And then I acted, radiant silver chains of energy formed in an instant, extending from my hand and wrapping around him before he could react, coiling tight from his shoulders down to his waist with precise, unyielding force.

The moment it settled, it locked in place, not just restraining his body but suppressing something deeper.

Kharos tensed immediately.

I could feel the shift in him as he tried to channel his mana, pushing against the restraint with raw force, but the reaction was off. Instead of building, his energy stuttered, like something was cutting it off before it could fully form.

”What the hell is this?” he demanded, straining against it, muscles tightening as he tried to break free.

It didn’t budge.

[Divine Binding].

One of the abilities I had gained from the Overseer after dealing with the corrupted Jael. Alongside it came [Hand of the Raging Sun] and [Divine Essence]—abilities designed to deal with creatures of the damned… like what Jael had turned into.

But I hadn’t run into anything like that since.

Which was why I hadn’t used them.

But now, although this wasn’t about what they were meant for—it was about what they could do, and right now, this was exactly what I needed.

I gave the chain a short, controlled tug, tightening it just enough to force Kharos off balance. He dropped to the ground with a dull impact, still bound, the restraint holding firm as it kept his upper body locked in place, leaving no room for leverage or resistance.

Then I turned to the rest.

”Don’t try to fight,” Caius said before I could speak, his voice carrying enough authority to cut through whatever reactions were starting to build.

A few of them frowned, the discomfort obvious—no one liked being handled like this—but they held back. Others weren’t as willing to cooperate. I saw it in the way their stances shifted, the subtle movements, the way they angled themselves like they were looking for an opening.

They weren’t just going to lie down and accept it.

But it didn’t matter.

The moment any of them moved, the chains followed.

They shot out with the same precision, locking onto each target before they could gain any real distance, wrapping tight and cutting off their ability to channel mana the same way it had with Kharos. Struggle or not, it all ended the same—restrained, controlled, and grounded.

There was no escape.

Caius was the last one.

He didn’t resist when the chain formed around him, didn’t even try. Instead, he looked down at it, his expression shifting—not to anger, not even frustration, but something closer to recognition… and then something deeper.

Awe.

”These chains…” he said slowly, his voice lower now, more measured as his eyes traced the faint glow running along the surface. ”They carry divine energy.”

Then he looked up at me, and for the first time since this started, there was a crack in that composure of his.

”What… what are you really?”

”Who knows,” I replied, keeping my tone casual, like the question didn’t matter.

With a short motion, I tightened the chain just enough to break his balance, and he dropped like the rest, the restraint holding firm as it settled.

I let my gaze pass over all of them, making sure there were no more attempts at resistance.

”You can still walk, can you?” I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for excuses.

They could.

”Then follow me.”