Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

I just groaned through gritted teeth, still fighting the taste in my mouth.

Flogga chuckled softly, clearly amused by my misery.

After a few seconds, my stomach finally settled.

I let out a long, controlled breath, pressing a palm against my gut just in case round two tried anything funny.

Then, quietly, I asked, "Flogga… are you trying to poison me?"

She looked genuinely offended, her brow creasing as she crossed her arms.

"What? Why would I poison the Chief?"

"Just asking," I muttered, smacking my lips as the bitterness surged back like an aftershock. Ugh.

I wiped the corner of my mouth and opened my status window—mostly out of curiosity, partly to make sure I wasn't dying from cave-brewed goblin moonshine.

To my surprise... it had actually worked.

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[Stats]

Strength: 36 (+3)

Stamina: 38

Agility: 30

Intelligence: 25

Perception: 24

(Available Points to Distribute: 12)

---

My Strength stat had indeed gone up by +3.

That… almost made up for being orally assaulted by whatever alchemical war crime that potion was.

I grimaced and muttered, "Can't you make it… less bitter?"

"Bitter?" Flogga blinked at me like I'd just told her the sky was green. Then, without hesitation, she pulled out a second vial—identical to the one I'd just choked on—popped the cork, and downed it in one smooth motion.

I watched, wide-eyed.

Were her taste buds dead?

She didn't stop there.

She started gargling it.

Loudly.

Which made me frown.

Now she was just showing off.

After a few dramatic swishes, she tilted her head back and swallowed, wiped her mouth, and flashed a wide, yellow-toothed grin.

"I don't think it's bitter, Chief."

Of course you don't. Your taste buds probably went to war and never came back.

"Forget it," I said with a sigh, waving the issue away like a bad smell.

"How many of those do we have?"

"Twelve Chief," she said proudly. "Well, ten now with two gone."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've been busy."

She nodded, clearly pleased with herself.

"Can you make more?"

"Of course, Chief. Got plenty of glands and blood left from the last batch." She turned on her heel and waddled back toward her workstation, already muttering ingredient ratios under her breath.

I gave her a brief nod, then turned my attention elsewhere—specifically, to the one goblin who hadn't said a word since our return.

Zarah.

She was off to the side, crouched by the fire, sharpening arrows with slow, precise movements. She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge me—but I could feel her glancing my way every so often.

She was avoiding eye contact.

I started walking toward her.

The moment she noticed, she sprang to her feet and gave a stiff bow, posture rigid like a soldier at inspection.

"Chief."

I nodded in return. "Your wound… how is it?"

She lifted her head and rotated her shoulder in a full circle, wincing slightly but forcing a small smile.

"It's fine now, Chief. Flogga's potion worked wonders. I'll be ready to hunt again soon."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I said I was fine earlier too… but Chief went with the others."

Ah. There it was.

So that's what this was really about.

She wasn't upset about the injury. She was upset I didn't take her along.

I studied her face closely. She wasn't looking at me—her gaze was fixed somewhere just past my shoulder. Her lips were pressed in a small, stubborn pout.

Cute.

"All right," I said casually. "Pick up your bow. Take plenty of arrows."

That got her attention.

She blinked up at me. "Are we going on a hunt?"

"Something like that," I replied with a small, cryptic smile.

Her eyes lit up. She didn't say anything else—just turned quickly and began gathering her gear with newfound energy. Within moments, she was standing in front of me again, bow slung over her shoulder, a quiver strapped across her back, practically vibrating with anticipation.

I reached out and took her hand—firmly, but gently.

The reaction was immediate.

She stiffened like she'd been hit by a paralyzing spell.

I fought back a smirk.

"Flogga," I called over my shoulder. "We'll be back soon."

The alchemist didn't even look up from the bubbling pot she was stirring. "Have fun," she said, voice light and knowing

"Narg," I said, turning toward the shaman.

"Chief!"

"Protect the cave while I'll gone."

He raised his staff in silent acknowledgment.

"Yes chief!"

"What about Thok?" came a voice from the side.

I turned to see him raising his hand like a student in class asking questions.

"You too, Thok," I replied with a grin.

Thok beamed, puffing up like I'd just knighted him. He was like a child.

Then, right on cue, Dribb stepped forward, shoulders hunched, voice gravelly.

"What about Dri..."

I didn't let him finish.

I grabbed Zarah's hand tighter and activated [Warp], vanishing. If I had waited to respond the rest would start lining up with the same question.

We reappeared in a small clearing, not too far from the cave. This part of the forest was relatively safe—no serious predators, no territorial monsters. Just trees, moss, and the distant sound of wind stirring through the canopy.

Zarah took a few steps forward, glancing around.

"We're still close to the cave," she observed, sounding both puzzled and a little disappointed.

I nodded. "That's right."

Then I turned and walked a few paces away, putting a good distance between us.

I stopped, turned, and faced her directly.

"Draw your bow, Zarah."

She blinked at me, clearly confused. But she didn't hesitate. She reached back, grabbed an arrow, and nocked it with smooth, practiced ease.

"What monster are we hunting, Chief?" she asked, her voice cautious now.

"Not a monster," I replied calmly. "A goblin."

Her brow creased further. "Is there an enemy nearby?"

"No," I said, my voice steady as I met her gaze.

"Not an enemy. Me."

Zarah stared at me, stunned. Confusion, concern, and a flicker of hesitation played across her face.

I sighed and decided to be clear.

"I want you to hunt me, Zarah—like I'm prey. I need to test your skills."

Of course, that wasn't...