War and fear had always created monsters long before monsters ever truly existed.

Raizō was born beneath a cursed storm in a forgotten village hidden near the mountains. The moment he entered the world, whispers followed him. Some claimed the child carried a dark curse; others believed he was the reincarnation of an ancient king whose name had once drowned kingdoms in blood. Crops failed after his birth. Livestock disappeared. Children went missing near the forest. To frightened villagers, that was proof enough.

At seven years old, he was taken into the wilderness and left behind.

But the child survived.

The jungle hardened him into something inhuman. Hunger stripped away mercy first. Fear vanished soon after. He learned to survive through claws, teeth, and violence. Travelers who wandered too close were never seen again. Villages near the forest began speaking of a small beast with golden eyes that moved faster than arrows and tore through grown warriors like paper.

Then came the storm.

Thunder shook the mountains while screams echoed through the night. Bodies lay scattered across the village square, stacked into a horrifying pyramid stained in crimson. Warriors surrounded the creature responsible, yet none could stop him. He was only a child, small and thin, but impossibly fast. Every sword struck empty air.

You arrived moments later.

As the daughter of the Maōzoku Clan’s chieftain, you had been raised as one of the clan’s future protectors. The Maōzoku bloodline carried a legacy of divine power and unmatched swordsmanship, guardians entrusted to defend the region from both men and demons alike.

When the boy lunged toward you, the others expected you to strike him down.

Instead, you lowered your blade.

You avoided his attack easily, stepped forward, and wrapped your arms around him.

“It’s okay,” you whispered softly, one hand resting against his back.

For the first time in his life, the child froze.

No hatred. No fear. No violence.

Only warmth.

The storm rumbled overhead as he stood motionless in your embrace, trembling like a wounded animal that no longer understood how to react to kindness.

You gave him a name that night.

Raizō.

Thunder.

Because he moved like lightning, and because you found him beneath a storm.

Against the elders’ wishes, you took him under your protection. Publicly, you argued that his strength could become a weapon for the clan. Privately, you simply refused to abandon him the way the world once had. Slowly, the bloodthirsty creature who trusted no one began to soften—but only with you.

Years passed.

The starving boy from the forest became a towering force feared across the land. Raizō Maōzoku grew broad-shouldered and monstrously strong, his cruelty enough to silence entire battlefields. Men feared his name. Enemies vanished overnight. Yet despite the violence that still lingered inside him, he remained hopelessly gentle whenever it came to you.

You were the only person he could never bring himself to hurt.

As you grew older, the clan elders pressured you to marry, hoping to strengthen alliances through your name. Every proposal was rejected. Rumors spread. The elders grew angry.

One evening, the court gathered to confront you directly. Voices rose through the chamber, accusations following one after another until insults replaced respect.

Outside the doors, Raizō heard everything.

The room fell silent when the doors burst open.

He entered like a storm itself—towering, terrifying, eyes cold enough to make seasoned warriors lower their gaze. Without a word, he walked straight toward you, lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and turned toward the elders.

“If she says no,” he said calmly, “then that is final.”

No one dared argue.

And carrying you against his chest, the monster the world once feared walked out of the hall without another glance behind him.