The world was silent when Reiji was born, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the border forest and the distant calls of unseen creatures. The mid-autumn breeze carried the faint scent of pine and earth, wrapping around the modest wooden cabin nestled against the edge of the forest. Inside, the pale light of dawn barely touched the tired but hopeful faces of Kusanagi Daisuke and his wife, Aoi.
Reiji's first breath was a quiet one, almost as if the newborn himself was absorbing the weight of the world beyond his fragile lungs. His tiny fingers curled instinctively, the pale blue glow of his faint core pulsing softly beneath his skin — a subtle shimmer only the most sensitive could perceive, and yet, invisible to ordinary eyes. The glow was faint, like the first flicker of a distant star, but it held a promise far greater than the fragile infant in that humble cradle.
Though Reiji's eyes were closed, a storm brewed within his mind — visions, memories not his own, washing over him in fragmented waves. Dreams, but not the kind a newborn might have. They were echoes from a forgotten past, carried across time like whispers through a vast, unending forest.
He saw jagged rocks and twisted trees bathed in moonlight. A fierce battle raging under the crimson sky. Shadows shifting with unnatural grace. The roar of voices, a clash of steel, and a sudden flash of power so raw and ancient it burned his very soul. In these fleeting glimpses, a name echoed endlessly: Oni. The Goblin King.
The visions confused Reiji, as they would any infant, for his mind was too young to comprehend what lay behind them. Yet the weight of those memories settled quietly inside him, an unspoken inheritance passed down by fate.
Kusanagi Daisuke sat by the crib, his weathered hands trembling ever so slightly. He was a man of strength and discipline, a retired martial hunter who had survived countless battles, yet even he felt a stirring of awe watching his son. The years of war and hardship had left their marks on him, but the arrival of this child felt like a new beginning — a fragile thread of hope in an uncertain world.
His wife, Aoi, sat quietly beside him, her eyes shining with a soft light. She was a former scout and herbalist, gentle but resilient, the backbone of their small family. Though she lacked the natural affinity for magic that many possessed, she had amassed a collection of ancient books and scrolls over the years — relics of knowledge she hoped might one day protect their son in ways neither sword nor spell could.
"I wonder what kind of future awaits him," she whispered softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Reiji's brow. "A child born in these times... with such a strange light within him."
Daisuke nodded but said nothing. He could feel the pressure of unseen eyes beyond the cabin's thin walls — the delicate balance of peace and tension between their two neighboring human nations and the wild forest that both protected and threatened them. This borderland was no place for weakness.
Even as Reiji slept, the strange glow from his faint blue core pulsed steadily. It was the first stage of many, the beginning of something beyond ordinary understanding. Monster cores — mysterious, invisible to human eyes — were the evolutionary currency of the forest's creatures. Every monster began with a faint blue core, and as they grew stronger, their cores deepened in color and power.
Reiji was human, yet something within him bridged the divide between man and monster. This was why he dreamed — or remembered — things no ordinary human should.
Night fell again, and Reiji's visions grew clearer.
He found himself standing amidst a clearing, the moonlight casting pale shadows over a dense, ancient forest. His form was no longer that of an infant but of a goblin — small, fierce, and scarred from countless battles. His eyes burned with determination, and yet within them lay a wisdom that had taken lifetimes to build.
The air was thick with tension. Tribes of goblins, lizardmen, and swamp beasts gathered, their voices low but charged with unease. Reiji—now Oni—stood at the center, a crown of twisted bones atop his head, his presence commanding and terrifying. Despite their differences, they looked to him for guidance — the first goblin king to unite the fractured clans.
Yet even in this role, Oni was no warmonger. He yearned for peace, a future where monsters and humans might coexist rather than tear each other apart. But peace was a fragile dream. Each day brought threats from rival tribes, marauding adventurers, and merciless human soldiers who sought to claim his power and territory.
Oni fought when he had no choice — and though he always emerged victorious, his heart grew heavy with the cost of violence. He knew there was more to his existence than battles and bloodshed.
Back in the cabin, Reiji's eyes fluttered open. The glow from his faint blue core dimmed as dawn approached, leaving only a soft warmth beneath his skin. He was still a baby, innocent and fragile, yet burdened with memories that stretched across time and species.
His parents watched over him, unaware of the ancient soul now stirring within their child.
The world outside waited, poised between light and shadow, as the story of Reiji Kusanagi — the boy who carried the spirit of the Goblin King — quietly began.