Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP-Chapter 281: Infusion

The icy aura slowly receded, settling against Zarah’s skin in a faint shimmer that almost resembled scales.

Thin lines — like frost pathways — traced faint routes along her arms, barely noticeable to the naked eye, but with [Predator’s Focus], I could see them clearly, glowing softly beneath the surface.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

Zarah looked down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else, still in awe of the changes running through her body.

"I feel amazing," she breathed out, clenching her fist and opening it again. A soft spill of ice dust escaped from her palm, sparkling briefly before fading away.

I nodded slowly.

Of course, she felt terrific. Frost Vein wasn’t a simple enhancement. It was a complete shift in how her body interacted with energy, movement, and even air. And combined with Predator’s Focus — a skill line built entirely around clarity and precision — she had just stepped into an altogether different league.

The power flowing through her was enough to make anyone feel invincible; after all, this wasn’t ordinary strength. It was the power of a Chosen, concentrated and alive inside her.

As I watched her flex her fingers and adjust to the frost humming beneath her skin, a thought crept into my mind — one I hadn’t expected to entertain.

I honestly hadn’t believed she would handle two skill lines so smoothly.

But she absorbed both Predator’s Focus and Frost Vein without cracking, without any issues.

So naturally, the next question pushed itself forward:

If she can take two this easily... could she take three?

If her body could adjust to two separate systems without resistance, then theoretically, a third should be possible. Right? The temptation was strong. Almost overwhelming.

I wanted to test it.

I wanted to know just how far she could go.

But reckless curiosity wasn’t enough.

I pulled down my status window again and read carefully through every skill line I possessed, searching for a third candidate — something that matched her style, something that wouldn’t twist her abilities in the wrong direction or overload her strengths. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

I combed through every option twice.

And then a third time, slower.

But the conclusion was the same each time.

There wasn’t another skill line suited for her.

Not yet.

[Bone Forge] was far too close-range and tank-oriented to suit an archer.

It demanded someone who fought with their body first and their weapon second, and that was the opposite of how Zarah operated.

[Pain Rush] belonged to a bruiser who relied on momentum, aggression, and reckless exchanges — someone who didn’t care about getting hit as long as they hit harder. That wasn’t Zarah either. Her entire style was built on precision, not brute force.

[Gravebound] was clearly meant for a shaman-type goblin. Its mechanics leaned into curses, essence manipulation, and spiritual pressure. That was Narg’s path, not hers.

[Deathroot] was even worse for her. Too corruption-heavy, too close-range, too invasive. It would force her into a combat style she wasn’t meant for and push her into situations where an archer should never be standing. I wasn’t about to twist her into something unrecognizable.

And [Hellbrand]...

That was simply out of the question. It was a frontline skill meant for tankers and berserkers, and, on top of that, it directly countered Frost Vein. Fire and frost were two forces that didn’t coexist easily. I had no idea if her body could handle both at the same time, and I was not about to gamble with her life to test a theory.

Even if the skill lines didn’t conflict outright, the mismatch in their nature mattered. Skill lines weren’t just techniques — they shaped instincts, movement, energy flow. Forcing something that didn’t belong could do more harm than good.

Sure, I could argue that I could always unshare a skill line if it caused problems, but the truth was... I didn’t know if there were consequences. I didn’t know what lingering effects might remain or what kind of internal strain the constant attaching and detaching of major powers might cause.

So I decided to stop.

Two lines — Predator’s Focus and Frost Vein — were already molding her into something formidable. There was no need to push further just because I was curious.

Better to leave her as she was for now and focus on strengthening the others, one step at a time.

Now that I was certain I could safely share two skill lines without causing anyone’s body to collapse or combust, it was time to give the others — the ones who had only received a single line — their second.

"Zarah," I said, still watching the faint frost shimmer fade from her shoulders, "go find Gobbo and Dribb and send them to my quarters. After that, go to Narg and send him as well."

"Yes, Chief."

She responded immediately, her voice steady and confident. Then she turned and walked away with a kind of effortless vigor that made her posture look almost regal. I found myself staring longer than I should have, low-key stunned by just how composed she had become.

She had never looked more attractive.

I forced myself to shake the thought off and warp back into my quarters.

It didn’t take long before Gobbo and Dribb showed up together, stepping inside with the kind of discipline they usually only displayed before a fight.

Was this the effect of the skill line I had shared with them?

"Chief," Gobbo said, lowering his head.

"Chief," Dribb echoed.

I nodded to both of them, already pulling up my status window.

The first target was Gobbo.

I had already shared [Bone Forge] with him, so the next logical step was choosing a second line that complemented it. Two options immediately came to mind: [Stone Plate] and [Pain Rush]. Both were good fits. Both played into his durability and frontline adaptability. And for a moment, I wondered if I could eventually give him both.

But not now.

One at a time.

I opened my status window, tapped [Share], selected [Stone Plate], and chose Gobbo as the recipient.

The moment I confirmed the share, something unexpected happened.

A deep vibration thrummed under the floor of my quarters — not outward like an impact, but inward, focused directly...