Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP-Chapter 45: Missing

The corpses of the goblins were gone.

But their weapons were still there, scattered across the ground like discarded bones.

It reminded me of a video game, where defeated enemies vanished but their loot remained behind. But this wasn’t a game. This was real. And dangerous.

The missing bodies confirmed my worst suspicion: They were coming back.

Not maybe. Not eventually. They would return.

That thought tightened something in my chest. My nerves, already strained, tensed even more.

I forced myself to breathe. Deeply. Slowly. Panicking wouldn’t help. If I let anxiety take over and rush things, I could lead us into a disaster.

We’d end up dead before we even saw our enemies.

No...We had to stay calm. Move steadily. Prepare smartly.

And most importantly, level like our lives depended on it.

Because they did.

Steady pace... breathe in.

Steady, but fast... breathe out.

I glanced over my shoulder at the rest of the goblins.

They were winded—most of them gasping for air.

Some worse than others, legs trembling, hunched over with hands on their knees.

That was expected. They weren’t used to this kind of physical strain yet.

But then—

Something felt off.

I did a quick headcount.

One... two... three... four...

Wait.

Narg?

Where the hell was Narg?

I spun around, scanning the path behind us.

"Where’s Narg?" I asked sharply.

The others looked around, confused.

Was he attacked? Did he fall behind?

Or worse—did he pass out somewhere and we didn’t even notice?

My heart rate picked up again, faster this time—but not from the sprint.

I clenched my fists.

Damn it.

I should’ve been watching more closely.

I was just about to turn back and look for him—

But then I heard it.

A heavy, ragged gasp, followed by the sound of something dragging across dirt.

Narg crawled into view.

He was panting like a dying ox, each breath wheezing out of him as if it took every ounce of strength to keep going.

His limbs trembled with the effort.

Honestly, it was almost... comical.

Even Thok wasn’t this exhausted, and he was no speedster.

Still, it made sense.

The goblins might all look similar, but their stats clearly varied.

Some probably had better stamina, others more agility or intelligence.

Narg?

Definitely not a runner.

As for me, I barely felt winded.

My breathing was steady, heart rate under control.

Maybe it was all the running I’d done during that brutal penalty quest.

Or maybe it was just the level gap. I was leagues above them now, and it showed.

I brought up the daily quest panel.

[Daily Quest:]

• Sprint for 3 kilometers without stopping

• Scale a steep hill or a tall tree

• Carry 25–40kg of rocks or logs for 10 minutes

• Evade 20 thrown projectiles (from goblins or traps)

[Warning: Failure to complete this task will result in punishment]

I checked the current progress.

[Daily Quest Progress:]

• Sprint for 3 kilometers without stopping – (Incomplete: 1km / 3km)

• Scale a steep hill or tall tree – (Incomplete)

• Carry 25–40kg of rocks or logs for 10 minutes – (Incomplete)

• Evade 20 thrown projectiles – (Incomplete)

I still hadn’t completed the 3-kilometer run.

Only 1 kilometer was behind me—2 more to go.

And on top of that, three more tasks still waited on the quest list.

I gave the goblins a few minutes to catch their breath.

Once they’d recovered slightly, I gave the next order.

"Gather up all the weapons. Don’t leave anything behind."

The goblins moved quickly, some limping, others still panting, but they obeyed. They started collecting the dropped weapons scattered across the battlefield—swords, clubs, rusted daggers.

While they worked, I walked over to Narg.

He was still on the ground, trying to push himself up with trembling arms.

When he saw me approaching, he gritted his teeth and forced himself upright.

His legs wobbled like wet sticks, and his breathing was still ragged.

Sweat dripped down his green face in streams.

Yeah... his stamina was clearly terrible.

Sucks to be you, Narg.

Still, he got up. He didn’t complain.

That counted for something.

I wished I could check their stats—see what they were working with—but unfortunately, I couldn’t access the individual stats of my goblins. Not unless I unlocked some kind of skill or item for it.

For now, I’d have to rely on observation.

And from observing Narg.

It was clear as day that he wasn’t built for endurance.

I was also fairly certain his Intelligence stat was the highest among the group.

That also meant he likely had the highest MP pool.

And with that kind of stat distribution, he had real potential—potential to become the clan’s shaman.

...And that meant vision.

Insight.

Magic support.

A utility role the clan needed.

I sighed.

From my inventory, I pulled out the staff I’d looted from the dead goblin shaman. It was still a bit chipped at the edges, but the runes etched into the wood faintly pulsed with residual energy.

I held it out toward Narg.

His eyes widened the moment he saw it. Like a hungry kid spotting food.

"Here you go," I said, giving the staff a little nudge in his direction.

He didn’t take it right away. Hesitated. Maybe out of respect. Maybe fear.

But then, slowly, he reached for it.

His fingers wrapped around the shaft.

He held it upright, letting the weight settle in his hand as he examined the carvings.

Didn’t swing it. Didn’t fumble.

Instead, he stood still—eyes focused, expression serious—as if the staff itself was speaking to him.

Then, after a few seconds of silent awe, Narg gasped.

"Chief... this... this is—"

He dropped to his knees, clutching the staff like it was some sacred relic.

"I’m not worthy!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with emotion.

I placed a hand gently on his shoulder. His body was still trembling.

"I don’t need you to be worthy," I said. "I need you to prove your worth."

His head lifted slowly. I could see the fire lighting in his eyes.

"It’ll be more useful in your hands than mine, acolyte. Use it wisely."

"Yes, Chief!" he said, voice firm now. No hesitation.

I nodded.

It felt... good.

Not the authority—though that had its own thrill—but the recognition. The fact that they were starting to believe in something. In me.

And while I was in this mood, I figured I might as well make the most of it.

I opened my system window, navigated to [Skill Share], and began preparing to transfer a few basic skills to Narg and the other clan members.

They were rough around the edges, sure.

But if we were going to survive...