Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP

I couldn't help but wonder, just for a second, if this was some kind of bond—mate, sibling, herd protector. Maybe it cared. Maybe it didn't.

Not that I gave a damn.

There's an old saying: Don't kick a man while he's down. Personally, I think that's the best time to do it. The only sure way to keep an enemy from getting back up is to make damn certain they never have the chance.

I dropped into a dive, the wind roaring in my ears. Just before the Alpha's head turned, its attention snapping toward me, I triggered [Warp], reappearing behind it in a blink. Gravefang came up in both hands, my body twisting into the thrust, the blade aimed for the kill.

But the Alpha moved—fast. Faster than I'd seen it move all fight. It lunged forward, the tip of my blade scraping fur instead of punching through flesh. And before its hooves even touched the ground again, its antlers flared and spat three rapid-fire bursts of energy.

They weren't the searing, guided beams from before—these were smaller, denser, and they moved like bullets, cutting the air with lethal precision.

I slipped past the first shot, twisting my body so the second skimmed by close enough to singe the air against my cheek. But the third—there was no avoiding it.

I warped.

One blink, and I was gone—only to reappear right in front of the Alpha, so close I could see the subtle flare of its nostrils as surprise flashed in its eyes.

Before it could react, I moved. A sharp, explosive step forward—a blitz—and Gravefang arced across its throat. The blade bit deep, hot blood spraying in a crimson fan.

For a heartbeat, I froze. I'd actually landed a hit?

The Alpha staggered, a strangled, guttural cry spilling from its mouth. It must have been more rattled than I'd realized.

I didn't give it the chance to recover.

I was on it again in an instant, relentless, hounding it like something that didn't know how to stop. It tried to fight back, its antlers flaring as it began to channel another beam, but I lunged forward with a snapping kick. My boot connected solidly with the side of its head, jerking it violently off aim.

The beam went wide, slicing harmlessly into the sky.

And before it could bring its head back into position, I stepped in and drove Gravefang forward, the blade sliding deep into its throat once more.

I ripped Gravefang free, only to drive it back in again.

And again.

And again.

Each thrust was quick, precise, and fueled by the need to be absolutely certain. Blood slicked my hands, spattered across my arms, and still I stabbed, my focus narrowing to nothing but the movement of the blade and the dull resistance of flesh giving way.

It wasn't until the Alpha finally went still beneath me, its chest rising no more, that I stopped.

Breathing hard, I stepped back, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth—wild, unrestrained, the kind of grin that came with the sharp taste of victory.

I'd won. The Alpha was dead. The herd's leader had fallen.

But…

Something felt wrong.

Through the chaos of the fight, I'd been careful—mostly—to avoid its eyes. And yet, there had been moments, fleeting ones, when our gazes had locked. Close enough for that same paralyzing effect the Level 25 had used to take hold.

Except… nothing had happened.

Did the Alpha not have an ocular ability? Or had it chosen not to use it?

Or…

[Danger Sense] flared, sharp and cold, sending a chill crawling down my spine.

Had I already been caught by it?

I turned quickly, scanning the treeline for movement, but there was nothing—no threat, no signs of life. The rest of the herd lay motionless, every last Gnarlbeast sprawled where they'd fallen.

Strange.

Stranger still was the fact that I didn't remember landing the finishing blows on them. Stranger even than that… was the silence in my head. No Ding, no level-up notification.

A knot formed in my gut. Slowly, I lifted my hand into view—and froze.

Three fingers. Not five.

The realization hit me like a hammer to the chest.

This… wasn't real.

The sharpness of the air, the smell of blood, the weight of my blade—it had all felt so convincing, but now I could feel the edges starting to fray. The sense of intensity that had been pressing down on me just moments ago shifted, thinned, and became something brittle.

Then I saw it.

Hairline fractures spreading through the world around me, like cracks running through glass. The forest shimmered, warped, and then shattered entirely.

In its place—blinding and immediate—was a raging beam of energy, tearing through the space directly in front of me.

I warped almost instantly—less a conscious decision and more [Danger Sense] seizing control of my body and forcing the reflex.

The beam tore through the space I'd just vacated, slamming into the ground with a deafening crack. The earth split beneath the impact, leaving a charred trench that smoked and hissed in the cool night air.

It didn't track me this time.

And I knew why.

I'd already been caught in its trick. My reaction hadn't been fast enough to fully escape; I was moving after the damage had already been done.

When I reappeared some distance away, I didn't land on my feet. I hit the dirt hard, my lungs seizing as if the air had been punched out of me. Every nerve in my body screamed, a raw, searing pain flooding through my chest.

I forced my gaze downward—and saw it. A blackened scorch mark spread across my torso, the skin blistered and cracked, the burn radiating waves of heat into my bones.

The breath tore out of me in a ragged howl before I could stop it.

"AAARGH!"

I roared, clutching at my chest.

The burn was indescribable—raw, searing agony that felt like it had burrowed past my skin and into my ribs, gnawing at bone.

Every movement sent...