Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP Chapter 194: Annihilation

I figured it had sothing to do with the new skill I’d inherited from Hissra—[Hellbrand].

The mont I summoned the spear, I could feel it—an unnatural heat radiating through my arm, sharper, more volatile than ever before.

His innate ability wasn’t just enhancing my fire-based attacks—it was fueling them, pushing them beyond their normal limits, and now the spear pulsed in my hand like a living weapon of destruction.

Without hesitation, I thrust the massive flaming spear downward, aiming to impale Jael midair—end this once and for all.

But the goblin chief was quicker than I expected.

He raised one gnarled hand toward the incoming projectile, and from his palm, thick black tendrils burst forth—long, writhing extensions of his dark aura. They lashed out with speed and precision, wrapping around the lance before it could reach him.

The mont they touched the flas, I felt it.

The fire... was dying.

My eyes widened.

The lance, once roaring with heat and fury, began to dim—its power siphoned away, drained as if choked by the very tendrils that held it. Within seconds, the inferno was gone, snuffed out like a candle in a storm.

Did he just... absorb it?

That fast?

I didn’t even have ti to dwell on the shock as he countered imdiately, unleashing an attack of his own—dozens of inky black tendrils surged from his outstretched hands, writhing like serpents and streaking toward with terrifying speed and precision.

The pressure they radiated sent a jolt through my body; getting touched by one of those would be a very bad idea.

But I didn’t freeze.

Instead, I redirected the heat I’d gathered into my right leg, channeling it through the limb until it pulsed with concentrated fla. My entire thigh and calf ignited in a fierce blaze, the power infused with the boost from [Hellbrand].

Then I activated [Warp].

I vanished just before the tendrils could latch onto , reappearing directly in front of Jael—midair, upside down—and brought my blazing foot crashing into his stomach like a teor strike.

"GRAUGH!"

The breath left his lungs in an ugly rasp as the impact landed dead-center. My fla-infused kick connected with the kind of force that could shatter boulders, and the recoil from the heat alone scorched the air around us.

Jael was sent hurtling downward, a green blur streaking toward the earth like a falling star.

BOOM!

He hit the ground hard, carving a deep crater into the mountain’s slope. Debris and dust shot into the sky from the force of the landing, and cracks spiderwebbed out from the epicenter.

I warped again, blinking to the ground a few ters away from the crash site.

My boots dug into the dirt as I landed, knees bent to absorb the drop.

I stood upright, exhaling once as I turned to face the settling dust cloud.

Smoke hissed up from the crater, curling into the air in twisting spirals.

And then... he erged.

Jael stood, armor-clad, completely unscathed.

His breastplate was still glowing faintly from the residual heat of my strike, but otherwise untouched. His armor had taken the full brunt of the impact like it was nothing.

No dents. No cracks. No blood.

I clenched my jaw.

That armor...

It looked oddly familiar—thick, reinforced, curved with runes that pulsed ever so slightly. Almost like a cursed artifact, or a legendary piece from so overpowered main character’s gear set.

Except this wasn’t so TV show.

He looked truly intimidating now—towering in that dense armor, his body wreathed in a cloak of seething black aura that coiled and snapped around him like a living shadow.

Inferno Lance wasn’t going to cut it. No standard attack would.

I could tell, just by the way that dark energy clung to him like a second skin, that I’d have to dig deeper, hit harder, and think far beyond my usual arsenal if I wanted to make it through this.

But here was the thing—I didn’t want to kill him. Not yet.

I needed answers. And sothing told Jael had more than a few—about this world, the system, the title of "Goblin King," and whatever twisted deal Drugar had made with all of us.

But as I watched him now, standing there on the ledge, his eyes scanning the destruction I’d left behind—scorched ground, the broken remains of his army, the ashes of his generals, and the still-smoldering wreck of the graveyard...

Sothing shifted in his expression.

His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared.

And then I saw it—just for a second.

A crack in that calm, composed mask.

Pure, simring rage.

His aura flared even more violently, pulsing with a suffocating intensity that made the very ground tremble beneath our feet.

I exhaled sharply, my tone shifting—less aggressive now, edging into sothing halfway between sarcasm and sincerity.

"Please, dude... can we just talk? Hmm?"

For a second, I hoped he might consider it.

But his face turned to stone.

He didn’t say a word.

The ground beneath his foot cracked open, and from the fissure, black, ink-like tendrils surged outward, weaving into jagged runes that pulsed with a sinister glow.

The markings surged toward like a predatory wave, fast—unnaturally fast—closing the distance in a heartbeat.

I cursed under my breath.

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t in the mood to talk.

I vaulted into the air, leaping above the surge of black ink-like tendrils as they roared past beneath . The ground sizzled where they touched, eating through rock and soil alike, and any patch of grass or foliage they grazed was instantly reduced to a sar of ash.

Whatever that stuff was—it didn’t just destroy. It erased.

My first instinct was to use [Warp], keep myself airborne, darting unpredictably above his attacks. But then I rembered—I had a better card to play. An absolute defense skill.

So I let myself drop.

The tendrils coiled and snapped at as I landed—but nothing happened.

Not a single tendril touched .

Or rather... it seed like they had.

But [Fractured Existence] had kicked in—the skill subtly displacing my form, as if I wasn’t really there, or perhaps slightly out of phase with reality itself.

I saw the flicker of frustration cross his face, and with a snarl, he thrust out his hand.

Another barrage of tendrils exploded forward, faster and more nurous than before, snaking across the air in wild arcs as if trying to cage in. Each one radiated that sa hungry, necrotic energy—each one promising to end if it landed a touch.

I didn’t wait.

I summoned multiple fla orbs, condensing the heat in my palms and letting them spin around like miniature suns. They were stronger now—burning hotter, fiercer. I could feel it with every flicker and pulse. The influence of [Hellbrand], the innate skill I’d taken from Hissra, in full effect.

I hurled the orbs forward.

They t the tendrils mid-air with violent bursts of light and sound.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

But it wasn’t enough.

Despite the enhanced fla, despite the sheer heat and force behind the attack—the tendrils devoured the fire. They swallowed the orbs whole, like black holes eating stars, and kept coming. Relentless.

I didn’t flinch.

"Alright," I muttered, drawing one of my twin blades.

If regular attacks didn’t cut it... then it was ti to unleash sothing a little more unreasonable.

I raised my free hand, funneling void energy into the blade. My palm tingled as the hilt pulsed with raw force, the edges of the weapon beginning to shimr and distort as if reality itself was bending around it.

I exhaled once.

Then I activated [Rift Annihilation]