The visions came without warning, like storms breaking across a quiet sky. Reiji's young mind, still tender and fragile, was suddenly flooded with memories not his own — memories of a life long past, lived in the shadows of a forest that was both sanctuary and battleground.
As the faint blue glow of his core pulsed beneath his skin, images surged through his consciousness: a small goblin, frail and weak among countless others, struggling to survive in a harsh world ruled by strength and cruelty. This was Oni — the first goblin king — and the memories now belonged to Reiji as much as they once belonged to him.
Oni's early days were marked by relentless hardship. Born into a tribe of monsters scorned and hunted by humans, he was smaller and weaker than his kin. His body bore scars from countless fights, and his spirit was tempered by desperation. Survival was a brutal dance: kill or be killed, fight or flee.
But unlike most goblins, Oni did not revel in violence. He hated it. Every clash of claws and clash of teeth weighed heavily on his heart. The world he knew was one of endless bloodshed, yet deep within him, a yearning for peace grew — a dream that seemed impossible in the endless mud and chaos.
The goblin tribes were fractured, divided by rivalries and ancient grudges. Only the strongest could lead, and power was measured in battle prowess and cunning. For Oni, rising through the ranks meant facing adversaries far larger and more brutal, each encounter a test of survival.
Despite his reluctance, he fought — always defending, never attacking first. He mastered the art of evasion, using stealth and speed to outmaneuver foes. Each victory was a bitter necessity, a step closer to survival.
The forest around him was both enemy and ally. It hid dangers beyond imagining — feral beasts, rival tribes, and the ever-looming threat of humans. But it also offered sanctuary and secrets. Streams whispered of ancient magic, and the earth bore the pulse of cores — the essence of monsters that fueled their evolution.
Oni learned to sense these cores, to hunt and consume them in a desperate bid for strength. As he devoured cores, his body changed — his claws lengthened, his senses sharpened, and his mind grew clearer. The faint blue core within him evolved, shining brighter with each new power gained.
It was during these years that Oni first encountered humans — adventurers and hunters who ventured too far into the forest. They spoke a language he did not understand, their armor glinting in the sunlight, weapons sharp and deadly.
At first, Oni feared them, hiding in the shadows and watching from afar. But curiosity tugged at him. He listened to their conversations, slowly piecing together the words and meanings. Over time, he began to learn their language, not through teachers, but through careful observation and mimicry.
This newfound knowledge changed everything.
Oni's mind expanded beyond survival. He began to dream not just of power, but of coexistence. The forest was vast enough for both humans and monsters, if only they could find a way to live without endless bloodshed.
But the path was fraught with peril. Human greed and fear ran deep. Many saw monsters only as threats to be eliminated. Goblin kings were legends of terror, their bodies said to hold untold power. And Oni's very existence was a challenge to the world order.
Still, he persisted.
He sought to unite the fractured goblin tribes, forging alliances through strength and wisdom. His vision was clear: a kingdom where monsters could thrive without constant war, where the cycle of violence could be broken.
But the price of leadership was high. Rival clans plotted against him, assassins lurked in the shadows, and every step forward was met with fierce resistance.
Yet Oni remained undefeated.
His battles were fierce, his victories earned through strategy and resilience rather than brute force alone. He became a legend among monsters — the goblin king who fought not for conquest, but for survival and peace.
And in the depths of his heart, a quiet hope blossomed — that one day, his son would live in a world free from the endless strife that had shaped his own existence.