I would trade ten lifetimes of fleeting brilliance for a single lifetime of your mystery.

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Ten thousand years ago, during the era when gods and demons descended upon the world, it was a time of great historical significance in Grimm Space. The human race produced one genius after another, and this era became a pivotal chapter in history. The dark forces were as vicious and evil as they came, but opposing them stood the radiant forces representing justice and light.

The rainbow rain had just stopped falling without anyone noticing. The sunset rays pierced through the heavy clouds, casting light on the wet ground. As the clouds drifted, it was as if they were playing hide and seek with the people below.

This city had just survived a brutal battle, and everywhere you looked, there were ruins and collapsed walls, with intertwining vines growing over the wreckage. Despair and decay festered in the hearts of the people. For a long time, this place had been abandoned by both gods and demons, and it wouldn’t be long before it would be swallowed by the sands blowing in from the north.

The displaced survivors scavenged through the broken city, searching for whatever scraps of food remained.

Raindrops dripped from the withered branches, sinking into the soil like tears from the heavens, telling tales of memories long buried.

Near a collapsed house sat a few ragged, filthy children. Their clothes hung loosely on their thin, emaciated bodies, resembling withered trees stripped of life. Their exposed skin was covered in dirt and grime, their original appearance almost impossible to discern. Their eyes, like those of starving wolves, fixated on the cracked walls as if searching for food.

True to their desperate hopes, after some digging, they found a half-rotted rice husk. It had turned black, but one could barely tell it used to be food.

A boy, so thin that his clothes hung like sacks from his skeletal frame, stared intensely at the rice husk with lifeless eyes. Perhaps it was the dead look in his eyes that made the other children step back in fear. After a long pause, they gathered their courage and guarded their meager find, hurling insults at him: “You filthy demon! You don’t deserve to be here. Get lost!”

“Disgusting! Worthless trash, just like your mother—lowly scum!”

The boy’s eyes grew fiercer, as if he wanted to destroy everything in sight. His gaze brimmed with rage, like a starving hellhound.

Perhaps intimidated by his glare, the other children grew more frightened. They began picking up stones and throwing them at him.

“Don’t go near him! He’s a demon—a monster who eats people! Kill him!”

“Kill him!”

“Kill him!”

The boy did not dodge. His filthy skin was sliced open by the sharp stones, blood oozing from the fresh wounds. He looked like a bloodied corpse crawling out of the grave. But instead of fighting back for the rice husk, he grabbed handfuls of mud from the ground and began stuffing it into his mouth.

He bit down hard on the dirt, chewing as if it were the most delicious food in the world.

The other children stared at him in horror, as if he were a demon who would devour them all.

How did this boy manage to survive?

Just then, the city gates—enchanted with magic—slowly opened, and warm light poured into the ruined city, drawing the attention of all who remained.

Who would come to this forsaken city, abandoned by Grimm?

No one willingly ventured into the war-torn ruins, now nothing more than a ghost town forgotten by the world.

But someone had come. Someone really had come!

There was food! The sight of people happily receiving food quickly made the children forget the rice husk they had been protecting so fiercely. They swarmed toward the crowd like a hive of bees.

The boy who had been eating dirt glanced at the commotion but then lowered his head again. No one would want to give him anything. After all, he was a demon… the lowest, filthiest of all races… unwanted by anyone.

They despised him, and he didn’t want them either!

He would kill them all—every last one of them.

His bloodshot eyes burned with murderous intent, glaring at the ground in front of him. He didn’t know how long he had been there when suddenly, a pair of black embroidered shoes appeared in his vision. They were spotless, utterly perfect.

“Why are you sitting here all alone?”

It was the first voice he had ever heard that made him want to lose himself in its warmth. Just hearing it felt like he could touch that fleeting sense of comfort, like the soft coaxing of his mother.

Yes, his mother, the demon who had been slaughtered by mages, her body left in bloody pieces, unrecognizable. She had been a demon.

Even so, she had been a source of warmth and solace for him.

The boy lowered his head even more, no longer eating dirt but curling up his frail body even tighter.

The figure standing before him sighed softly.

Even the sound of his sigh was as dreamlike as if it had been conjured in the boy’s imagination.

The once vicious boy began trembling uncontrollably. This was the warmest season on the continent, yet he felt unbearably cold. He was terrified that he would stain this person, this one person willing to speak to him. He was a cursed demon, a creature of evil.

Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped around him. The man effortlessly lifted the boy into his arms. As the boy’s body neared the warmth of the man, he began to shake even more violently.

I’m too filthy!

I’ll dirty him!

Someone so pure, so untouchable, shouldn’t be sullied by me!

Don’t touch me!

The boy struggled fiercely, but his efforts didn’t affect the man in the slightest. A wave of warmth flowed into his body, even quelling the hunger in his belly. All he felt was a comforting heat spreading throughout him.

“Even a demon shouldn’t eat dirt,” the man said softly.

The boy’s frantic writhing gradually subsided. The man knew—he knew the boy was a filthy demon.

The boy’s head slowly lifted, almost cautiously, as if hoping for something, though he wasn’t sure what.

The first thing he saw was the man’s black hair, shining like the finest onyx. There were no unnecessary decorations on the man’s person—simple and unadorned—but even in such plain clothes, he exuded an air of nobility and elegance.

The boy had never seen such a perfect face. Just like the man’s voice, every feature was natural, yet flawless. When the man looked at him, his gaze was warm and gentle, as if all the light in Grimm resided in his eyes. It was as though no one in the world could ever think to desecrate someone like him.

The man wore black, yet it only made him seem even more pure and untainted. His eyes held a trace of sadness, and his long eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a divine butterfly.

“Ah!” The boy suddenly snapped out of his daze, realizing that this unreal, perfect man had already carried him to the roadside and was applying medicine to his wounds.

“Did I hurt you?” the man asked, frowning slightly, his voice soft as he continued treating the boy’s injuries with even more care.

In reality, the boy had just been too stunned by the man’s beauty to even feel pain. He had long since grown used to such injuries. No one had ever treated him with such kindness before.

The boy, startled by the man’s concerned expression, hurriedly shook his head. His heart, which he had always believed to be a mere decoration, pounded wildly in his chest.

Thump thump thump.

When the man’s worried expression eased, the boy let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He really doesn’t despise me.

The man gave him food, new clothes, and treated his wounds.

As long as the man was around, the other children no longer dared bully him.

In this world, there was only this man who wasn’t filthy.

The man stayed in the city for several days, and the boy followed him everywhere. The man seemed cold and distant to everyone, but it was well known that beneath his icy exterior lay a heart as pure as his appearance.

The boy often stared at the man’s back in a daze, longing to be closer to him. Several times, he almost touched the hem of the man’s robe.

But each time, he pulled his hand back. I’m too dirty, he thought. I’m not worthy of touching someone so holy.

This time was no different. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand again, the man suddenly turned and grasped his hand instead. The warmth from the man’s palm spread through the boy, seeping into his bones. So this is what human warmth feels like.

“What’s wrong?” the man asked in his usual cool tone, never once looking down on anyone.

Yes, even a lowly demon like me.

The boy had thought that maybe—just maybe—he was special to the man. But it wasn’t so. The man treated everyone with the same respect and kindness, regardless of who they were.

Why!? The boy didn’t want to be just another insignificant speck in the man’s eyes.

Unconsciously, the boy tightened his grip.

Sensing the boy’s distress, the man stopped walking and gently patted his head.

The man was always so gentle, offering silent comfort without prying.

No one could ever enter the man’s heart, not even a little. Something wild and desperate was growing inside the boy, but he didn’t know what it was.

The next day, he heard that the man had left.

The boy frantically searched all the places the man had frequented, but he found nothing.

Later, he learned that the Light Temple had sent people to rebuild the city, and the man had left because of them.

How could he leave me? He didn’t leave anything behind. I’m nothing to him, am I? I don’t even know his name!

How could he search for him across the vast planes and countless continents?

Would he never see him again?

Gradually, the boy’s face twisted with madness. Why am I the one who’s always abandoned!?

On the street, the boy, who had been frantically searching for the man, suddenly stopped in his tracks. His pupils shrank, and it felt like something was breaking free inside him. In an explosion of dark light, the boy’s body grew, transforming into a tall, long-haired young man. His demon eyes blazed with an uncontrollable rage, as if he wanted to annihilate the entire world.

He only remembered the terrified faces of those screaming, and the constant barrage of attacks from robed mages. When he had finally unleashed his fury, the mages lay dead at his feet, and the world was silent once more.

I have to find him!

I would give everything, just for him to remember me.

Through this incident, the most powerful and ferocious Demon Emperor in history was etched into the annals of Grimm Space.

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Author’s Note:

“That man” = Long Ming’s past life as the Dragon Emperor.

The tragic backstory of our little shou~ With Long Ming’s noble, cool, and distant nature, it’s so fitting that he would attract a fierce and devoted shou. I’m loving this dynamic! Let’s bring on more of this high-class, utterly pampered shou~~