Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP Chapter 141: Counter

I needed to be cautious moving forward.

I couldn’t allow myself to be killed by a Chosen—not even once.

Even with the graveyard, even with the resurrection system, death at their hands might cost everything.

My innate skills weren’t sothing I could risk. Not now, not ever.

I let out a slow breath, the tension leaving in a hiss.

Then my eyes swept across the battlefield.

The ground was torn apart, craters and fissures running like scars across the earth. Smoke still curled in faint wisps from the places where my [Inferno Lance] had burned through, and in the distance, broken fragnts of blood-mist clung stubbornly to the air before dissolving.

The battle was over, but the taste it left in my mouth wasn’t victory. It was dissatisfaction.

I hated that I hadn’t been there when my goblins needed most, that they had to face sothing like Amon without watching their backs.

The thought of it gnawed at .

And worse still, this wasn’t the first ti.

That needed to change.

No more waiting. No more reacting. It was ti to take the fight to them.

And I could.

Because during my fight with Ezekiel, I’d placed my seal on him. I could still feel it even now, faint but clear, tugging at my awareness like a thread on a map.

With a blink, I could be standing right where he was.

That ant I could infiltrate them directly, hit them where it hurt most.

Tear down their strength, shatter their morale, maybe even destroy their whole base if I had to.

I didn’t know how strong their clan leader was, or what kind of tricks he might have up his sleeve, but I knew what his allies were worth.

I’d fought them. I’d beaten them. And I was certain—absolutely certain—that I was stronger than they were.

My innate skill was SSS — the kind of tier you don’t gamble on being outranked every day.

If there were ranks above it they’d be rare, anomalies, not sothing an ordinary clan leader could casually wear like a badge.

Even if their boss turned out to be stronger than , that didn’t an I was helpless.

I could bleed his force dry: pick off his allies, slaughter the regular goblins, strip the Chosen of their titles, and take whatever crumbs of power they left behind.

Every kill would make harder, faster, sharper; every skill I stole would tilt the odds a little more in my favor.

Over ti, that snowball would beco a boulder, surging forward until there was nothing left standing in my way.

Confidence humd through .

I could do this.

I could blink now, leap straight into their den and start the counterattack, a one-man executioner taking nas and burning down their morale.

But then I felt the chill of the pattern sliding under my skin.

This was the sa loop, the sa replayed mistake.

I leave, and sohow my clan gets attacked.

Maybe it was a coincidence.

Perhaps two unfortunate events can occur back-to-back.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if it happens again? What if this ti I lose soone for real?

Flogga, Thok, Zarah—those faces crawl through my head until my chest tightens.

I wouldn’t forgive myself.

So I sighed and held off the counterattack for now.

I wasn’t scrapping the plan—far from it—but I’m not going to run into their den like so lone berserker and leave my people to be picked off while I play hero.

That’s the pattern I have to break.

This ti, I involve them, even if "involving" ans only telling them what I intend to do and giving them instructions they can act on while I’m gone.

They deserve that much: the courtesy of a plan, and the dignity of a voice in it.

I can still feel Flogga’s look—relief braided with frustration.

It had stung.

But she was right to be angry; she fears for the clan and resents that I stepped away and left the danger in their laps.

I hadn’t properly inford her—or any of my goblins—about where I was headed.

I’d just left. One mont I was there, the next I was gone, and almost imdiately after, they were attacked. From their perspective, it must have looked like abandonnt.

And that feeling... that was sothing I knew far too well.

The first ti, maybe you can excuse it. Maybe you tell yourself the chief had no choice. But the second ti? That’s when the questions start. Doubt creeps in. Trust erodes. And once that seed is planted, it’s hard to claw it back.

The least I could do—the absolute least—was to not leave them in the dark.

In the end, I was their leader.

This wasn’t about going down so lone-wolf path. Not anymore.

My strength didn’t an I carried this burden alone—it ant I carried it with them, for them, but also alongside them.

If we were to keep surviving, to grow stronger, then they needed to know the plan. Even if they couldn’t shoulder the fights I could, they deserved the truth.

We would move forward together.

Yes... that was what I would do.

I muttered the words under my breath as if sealing them, then tightened my grip on Gravefang. My decision was made.

And with that, I prepared to warp back to the cave.

But then the Ember Fox appeared, walking towards with a grin curled across her face, smug and satisfied.

I glared.

She had been here all along. Watching.

Watching while my goblins struggled, while they bled and nearly died.

She could have helped, but she didn’t.

Most likely payback for the way I’d tricked her before.

Anger flickered through , hot and sharp, but I shoved it down before it could take root.

Expectations only led to disappointnt, and I wasn’t about to start expecting anything from her.

Ariel tilted her head, her voice laced with mockery."What a pity. You made it back in ti. I wanted to see your goblins get killed by that abomination."

I ignored her, didn’t even spare her a glare.

Instead, I triggered [Leap], space folding in an instant, and reappeared inside the cave where I had left my clan.

The mont my feet hit stone I was already sweeping the cave, eyes cutting from one figure to the next until they snagged on Narg, and...