Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

Wake up… wake up, Goblin.

The words drifted through the fog of my half-conscious mind, strange and muffled, as though whispered from underwater. My head felt like it had been stuffed with damp wool, every thought sluggish and refusing to line up properly. I wanted to answer, or at least force my eyes open, but the weight pressing down on me was too much. I was too tired, too beaten down to care.

Then something brushed against my nose. Light. Ticklish. Persistent.

At first, I dismissed it as a trick of my battered senses—some leftover ghost of pain. But it came again, this time deliberately, dragging across the bridge of my nose as though demanding my attention.

I groaned and raised a shaky hand, swatting lazily at the annoyance. My palm met only empty air. For a moment, I thought it had gone, but no—there it was again, tugging with a stubborn insistence, like a child yanking at a sleeve.

I tried again, swinging with a little more strength, but the thing didn't retreat. Instead, it retaliated.

A sharp smack landed across my cheek.

My eyes snapped open a fraction, more from shock than readiness, and I flinched against the sting. "What the hell…?" I muttered groggily, the words scraping raw in my throat.

No answer came. Just the same damn presence, jabbing at my face again, bolder now.

I shoved at it with a weak swipe, desperate for peace, but my resistance only seemed to provoke it.

The strikes came faster—light but relentless, rapid taps that stung just enough to cut through the haze of exhaustion.

With a frustrated groan, I forced my eyes open wider, squinting against the dim glow of the cave. My vision was still blurry, heavy with sleep, but I finally saw the culprit.

A tail.

Not just any tail, but a plume of fur swishing lazily in front of my face, brushing deliberately across my nose. I blinked hard, forcing the blur to sharpen, and followed the tail to its owner.

There, crouched in front of me, was a fox.

Its fur shimmered faintly, strands catching the low light like burning embers, as though a fire smoldered beneath its coat. Two sharp eyes, molten gold and far too intelligent for a simple beast, stared back at me without blinking.

It took a dragging moment for my sluggish mind to process what I was seeing. And when the thought finally formed, all I could mutter was:

"…What the hell?"

Because I knew that face. I knew those eyes.

The ember fox. The Matriarch's daughter.

I sat up slowly, rubbing the grit from my eyes, half-convinced I was still trapped in some dream—or worse, another illusion. My pulse hammered unevenly in my ears, and I almost expected the vision to melt away if I blinked too hard.

But it didn't.

The little beast stayed put, her tail twitching as if amused by my confusion, her gaze fixed on me with unnerving patience.

This… this was real.

I blinked again, clearing the last of the fog from my vision, and pushed myself upright with slow, uneven movements. Every muscle protested, stiff and sore, as though my body hadn't recovered from the torment I'd been put through.

The fox shifted back a step as I moved, her ember-tipped tails curling protectively around her small frame. She didn't lunge, didn't bare her teeth. Instead, she just sat there, molten eyes locked entirely on me.

There was no malice in her stare. Only curiosity.

That almost made it worse.

My heart began to pound faster, each beat rattling against my ribs like it wanted out. A storm of thoughts crashed through my head at once, tripping over each other in a frantic rush.

Had I dragged her with me when I used [Leap]? Was she tethered to me somehow without my knowing? And if she was here, did that mean her mother knew too? Would the Matriarch storm into my cave to finish what she started?

If that happened… my clan was done for. Nothing left but ash and bones.

Before I could spiral further, a voice cut through the noise in my skull. Clear. Sharp. Young.

"You're up, Goblin."

I froze. My eyes darted around the cave, searching for a hidden figure, but there was no one else here. The fox hadn't moved, her mouth hadn't opened, and yet the words echoed perfectly inside my head.

Not speech. Telepathy.

My throat worked, still raw, but I managed to croak, "What… what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" the fox asked, tilting her head slightly, ears flicking with an unsettling curiosity that made me feel like I was the one being studied.

Before I could answer, a shout rang out from the cave entrance.

"Chief!"

The sound jolted me. My head snapped toward the opening, and there stood Thok, broad-shouldered and panting, eyes wide with panic.

But it wasn't just him.

One by one, figures crowded behind him, filling the entrance with anxious faces and uneven breathing. My entire clan had come. Their gazes darted past me and landed on the fox, and the ripple of fear that swept through them was unmistakable. Shoulders stiffened, jaws clenched, hands twitched toward weapons they knew wouldn't help.

They were terrified—and who could blame them? A creature like this didn't belong in our cave.

"Totem!" Flogga's voice cracked as she shoved forward, her wide eyes burning with confusion. "What is happening?!"

My mouth went dry. I wanted to put their fear at ease, but how could I?

How was I supposed to explain something I barely understood myself?

"It's… it's alright, Flogga," I forced out, trying to steady my voice even though it sounded hollow in my own ears. "I'll handle it."

Handle what?

The fox's voice slithered into my thoughts, cool and sharp, her tone carrying a faint edge that felt like a challenge.

Before I could even form a response, another voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing.

"Is the fox truly your...