Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

The blood surrounding Zonk’s arms shifted repeatedly during the fight, rapidly taking shape into different weapons depending on what he needed at the moment. One second it formed into short blades for close-range exchanges, and the next, it stretched into spears and throwing knives that he launched toward Doro from multiple directions.

The versatility of the skill was honestly impressive.

Doro was being pressured far more heavily now than he had been against Gobbo, forced to constantly defend while trying to maintain distance at the same time.

Unlike Kharos, whose blood skills were overwhelming, heavy, and built around brute force, Zonk fought with far more restraint. He used only the amount of blood and mana necessary for each attack, wasting almost nothing.

The difference in their mana reserves likely played a role in that.

Kharos fought like someone confident he could overpower opponents before exhaustion became a problem.

Zonk fought like someone fully aware that efficiency mattered.

One focused on impact.

The other focused on precision and sustainability.

”You two could learn a thing or two from that goblin,” Sheera remarked casually, clearly taking a jab at Kharos.

Kharos simply snorted and shook his head, not even bothering to respond.

Still, despite the pressure Zonk was applying, Doro proved he was far from an easy opponent.

His defensive timing remained consistently solid throughout the fight. Every time Zonk attempted to overwhelm him with rapid attacks, Doro either blocked at the right moment or repositioned himself before retaliating immediately with attacks of his own.

He was calm.

Patient.

And surprisingly disciplined.

Rather than panic under the constant pressure, he slowly adapted to Zonk’s rhythm, little by little, as the fight continued.

Eventually, the match reached its conclusion, though not without both sides taking damage.

At some point during an exchange, Zonk ended up trapped waist-deep inside a block of hardened rock, unable to fully break free before Doro closed the distance and held him there.

Both of them were panting heavily by that point.

Doro especially looked exhausted, blood running down from the wound across his chest, while his breathing came out rough and uneven.

Still, despite his condition, he had managed to secure the win.

Not long after, Sheera stepped in again and healed the injury before it could worsen.

And after that fight, the atmosphere around the arena only grew louder.

More goblins began volunteering themselves for matches, eager to test their strength against one another now that the earlier tension had almost completely disappeared.

The crowd roared constantly throughout the battles that followed, cheering, clapping, and yelling excitedly regardless of whether the fighter belonged to my clan or Caius’ group.

Honestly, it was working better than I expected.

The hostility between both sides was slowly fading, replaced instead by competition, excitement, and mutual respect earned through combat.

A strange sense of community was beginning to form around the arena.

Of course, that didn’t stop Dribb and Kharos from repeatedly demanding a rematch every few minutes.

Both idiots looked ready to start fighting again despite barely recovering from their earlier battle.

I refused every single time.

Absolutely not.

If I allowed those two to keep going at each other today, one of them was eventually going to lose an arm.

Eventually, though, it became Zarah’s turn.

Unlike the others, she had remained unusually quiet throughout most of the tournament, simply sitting back and observing the fights carefully without saying much.

Which honestly felt strange.

Zarah was rarely the type to stay passive during things like this.

But after watching the arena silently for a while longer, she finally rose to her feet.

The movement alone drew attention.

Then she lifted her bow slightly and pointed an arrow toward someone in the crowd.

”I know who I want to battle.”

The moment she spoke, I immediately understood what she’d been doing this entire time.

She hadn’t been uninterested.

She’d been studying them. Watching the newcomers fight one after another before deciding who she wanted to test herself against.

And the target she chose was the farmer, Drel.

The moment the arrow pointed at him, several goblins immediately turned toward him with interest.

Drel himself clicked his tongue as though annoyed at being singled out, but the act didn’t fool anyone.

The guy clearly wanted this fight.

If anything, he looked just as eager as Kharos had earlier, especially after he muttered something about showing Kharos how things were ”supposed to be done.”

Unfortunately for him, though, his opponent was Zarah.

And Zarah genuinely did not understand the concept of holding back once a fight started.

The moment the match began, cold air spread across the arena almost instantly.

Thin layers of frost formed beneath Zarah’s feet as she moved, her posture calm and controlled, while Drel immediately countered by sending thick vines tearing upward from the ground toward her.

Compared to his earlier calm demeanor, his fighting style was surprisingly aggressive.

The vines crashed toward Zarah from multiple directions with enough force to crack the arena floor whenever they missed, forcing several nearby goblins to step back from the edge of the battlefield.

Still, Zarah handled it beautifully.

Her ice abilities were far more versatile than Drel’s vine manipulation, allowing her to adapt constantly throughout the fight instead of relying on a single approach.

But despite that, Drel’s raw strength with his ability was honestly impressive.

At several points during the battle, the sheer pressure of his vines threatened to overwhelm her positioning entirely, especially whenever he flooded large sections of the arena at once.

Yet Zarah kept slipping through the attacks with frightening precision.

She moved across the battlefield almost like a valkyrie, her body partially coated in ice as she weaved between the vines before cutting through them cleanly with an ice-forged blade.

And the moment Drel adjusted to her close-range attacks, she immediately switched styles again.

The blade shattered apart into frost around her arm before reforming into a bow.

Then she fired.

The frozen arrow curved through the air unnaturally fast, tracking Drel’s movement almost like a living thing as it shot toward him like a missile.