Chapter 1
I yearned to live elegantly. Despite being abandoned by my parents, dwelling in destitute alleys, I still wished to live elegantly.
On such days, everyone ridiculed me. They mocked the ragged child from the poorest corners, barely scraping together a meal a day, existing at the bottom of the food chain, uncertain of when death might come. 'You? Dreaming of living elegantly? Don't spout nonsense,' they would say.
I understood. It was an absurd dream.
Yet, I refused to give up. Amidst the criticism, I stubbornly pursued my dream. Because this dream was all I had. Even if it was a dream everyone laughed at, if this whimsical dream were to vanish, I would truly be nothing.
So, I studied fiercely.
This, too, was to live elegantly. The doors for success in poverty were scarce. Attempting success in the slums meant standing out among the back-alley thugs, with the possibility of becoming a pawn in the dark underworld.
Next was the path of a soldier, establishing a career to rise in ranks. But considering the sorry state of my physique, venturing into war seemed bleak. The probability of establishing a career was far too high.
In the end, there was only one thing to believe in – my mind.
Let's stake everything here!
With determination, I took action. I bought books with the money earned from odd jobs, even resorting to pilfering to acquire books. The footsteps of the patrol officers followed, but I could smile while reading the books hidden within my coat. In those days, I scavenged for knowledge, melting moldy black bread to eat while yearning for learning, every day a desperate pursuit.
Looking back, even my younger self instinctively knew.
That this was the last lifeline, the only path to escape this wretched life and achieve the dream of living elegantly.
Persistently clinging to learning eventually bore fruit.
It was the day I felt mana through a coincidentally discovered magic book, or rather, a basic textbook so common it was awkward to call it a magic book."
"Magic (魔法)"
It was the sole gift bestowed upon me by the heavens.
Had I settled for reality, forsaken my dreams,
I might have met my end as a thug or a petty thief in the slums without ever exploring my innate talent.
That's when it began.
To live elegantly.
This seemingly ludicrous dream started to take on some substance.
From then on, my life became rock-solid.
As some scholar once said, the total amount of luck is predetermined, and it seemed I was the case. Luck, which had eluded me despite my fervent desires, finally came rolling in like ivy.
The greatest stroke of luck, however, was meeting my mentor, the inspiration tank.
By becoming the disciple of the master of the Magic Tower, I naturally transformed into the grand sorcerer of the Black Magic Tower.
Just a few days ago, I was a common pauper roaming the slums, and now I contend among the elite sorcerers of the Imperial 7 Magic Towers, specifically the grand sorcerer of the Ebony Magic Tower.
A life reversal like no other, isn't it?
Finally breaking free from the relentless despair! The beginning of happiness!
The life I had so fervently dreamed of seemed to unfold before my eyes.
But, ultimately, it was a misconception.
A colossal mistake, indeed.
Elegant life?
Nonsense! That damn inspiration tank never let me rest for a moment. Saying something about great power carrying great responsibility and constantly haranguing me.
No, it's utterly absurd.
According to the inspiration, what about the emperor? Why doesn't the emperor's child, who needlessly sparked a war and laid waste to the western territories, take responsibility?
It was unfair.
Now that I finally thought I could live elegantly.
I envisioned myself sipping fine wine in upscale restaurants, engaging in cultured discussions about the future of this nation in the park, and even having a girlfriend who, though cold to others, would be warm to me!
Instead, I found myself in a lightless experiment lab, not a glimpse of sunlight. Instead of fancy restaurants, I was administering substances threatening human dignity three times a day. And instead of friends with whom I could pour out my heart, I was surrounded by corpses that laid bare the true (?) nature within.
Surely, with all this, there's no chance for the mumbler complaining about a lack of a girlfriend.
After enduring two damp decades in the lab, I finally emerged.
The world welcomed me with an army of minions.
They called me the Demon Lord .
Yes, finally!
Finally, the elegant life found its way to me!
...
...
"...like hell it did."
*Cough.*
Blood trickles down with each cough.
It continues incessantly.
Following the flowing crimson, if you look below, you won't see the things that should naturally be there for a human.
Sigh... I was wrong.
I was wrong. Even if the Supreme Grandfather were to come, this is beyond salvation.
Feeling the imminent approach of death and resigning myself, a laugh escapes me.
Inspiration was right; giving up does make things easier. Strangely, my heart feels lighter.
Well, it was amusing from the start.
The Demon Lord succumbing to the charms of the holy maiden, joining forces to defeat the evil dragon Tyulus – it was all nonsense.
But, there's no regret in my choice.
Because I've got style.
A grand event like this, and I, the epitome of style, wouldn't participate? Absolutely not.
And so, I found myself joining the expedition to save the world.
There we go!
The expedition set out to vanquish the dragon Tyulus, a rare foe, raising the flag for a grueling journey.
A path paved with seemingly endless sacrifices.
Different in purpose, but the end was the same. For the future, for what comes next, people threw themselves into the unknown.
We trod heavily on the carpet of blood, forging a path with each weighty step.
And finally, we succeed in slaying the dragon Tyulus.
See that? The head rolling over there? I'm the one who severed it.
Yes, our expedition gloriously triumphed.
"Hehe... Success adorned with wounds is still better than a failure. *Cough*."
The expedition was a success. However, there was no tomorrow for us.
The Empire's First Sword, known as the Sword Saint, fell in battle, and the Mercenary King, who had boasted of his axe skills throughout the expedition, eventually rusted away.
The Guardian of the World Tree, representing the elves, also played a considerable role. At 300 years old, the age wasn't in vain, tormenting the evil dragon until the end. Old ginger indeed packs a punch.
However, due to age, her stamina was lacking, and she succumbed during the final battle, peacefully lying there.
The ever-young dwarf elder, who never falters with age, fought well too. Despite being so short, I thought he would be the first to die, but he flew around as if mocking my concerns.
Yet, in the end, he couldn't dodge the final blow. There he lies, resting amicably.
I'd have liked to offer a last drink to the elder who loved his spirits, but sadly, it didn't work out.
Wait a moment. Soon, I'll be joining you.
Next to him, the barbarian twins, followed by the Imperial 1st Knights and representatives of the 7 Magic Towers.
All lying dead.
The expedition that was once praised by everyone in this land was now so beaten down that you couldn't identify them.
Yes, the expedition meant to bask in glory by defeating the evil dragon...
Ended up with everyone dead.
"Ugh."
Correction. There's one person left.
Among the corpses, a woman rises with a soft rustle.
The beloved saint, renowned for receiving the world's love.
However, her appearance is far from charming. Her left arm is nowhere to be seen, and the once beautiful face, boasting of its loveliness, is now half-melted.
The arm can't be helped, but the face is somewhat pitiful.
The risen saint, like me, seems to have felt a similar atmosphere just now, gazing around with eyes filled with despair.
Then our eyes meet.
"Uh, *cough*."
"Ah..."
The saint runs towards me with a joyful face.
"You're alive."
"Yeah, but only for a moment."
Smiling slightly, I gesture with my eyes towards below.
The saint, being skilled in healing as much as I am in dealing with death, understands that I don't have much time left.
As evidence, look at that expression. She might burst into tears any moment now.
"...Don't lose hope. You can live, if it's you, the Demon Lord."
"It's highly doubtful. *Cough* If you're going to lie, at least manage your facial expressions. *Cough*"
I chuckle, but surprisingly, she bursts into tears.
A woman who can't tell lies to the point of being terrifying.
Now that I think about it, I fought quite a bit with this woman.
The saint and the Demon Lord.
Just looking at us, you can tell there's no chemistry. We were like oil and water.
She cursed me, calling me an irredeemable beast without manners and morals, and I retorted that she was a clueless fool without a sense of reality.
Her excited demeanor, flushed like polished jade, was quite adorable when she was agitated.
Laughter echoed.
They say love is the scariest thing in the world, and indeed, Inspiration, you're always right.
If I heard something about this detestable feeling of love, it was somewhat comforting to see it this way at the end of the road.
That half-melted face is a bit of a concern, though. However, her quirky personality was right up my alley.
While thinking about this, I suddenly remembered something I had forgotten.
"Hey, *cough*, try treating me for a bit. *Cough* I can't seem to talk."
"Sure, hold on a moment." As she began healing, I felt a lot better.
Of course, the contrasting energy felt nauseating, but still, it was fortunate. Smirking, I said what I wanted to say.
"Hey, if you cut open that guy's chest, you'll find a dragon heart. If you extract that and use it for healing, the hands might be a lost cause, but at least the face can be salvaged."
"Is that really important right now?"
"What else is important?"
"Sigh, you're really something till the end."
As I playfully laughed, the saint also chuckled in disbelief.
"Yeah, laugh. It looks good. Those who have to leave will leave. Just in case, as a word of advice, don't keep that dragon heart as a memento, write quickly."
"But..."
"Oh, and if you don't use it, that damn Emperor is undoubtedly going to covet it. Do you want to see him in that state?"
"Absolutely not. I'll definitely use it."
"Good, it's been a while since our hearts matched."
I'd like to pat her on the head for doing well, but I don't have the arms to do so.
It's time now.
My eyelids grew heavy. Vision blurred, and my soul tried to leave my body.
It's really time to go.
Perhaps because of this, I want to confirm one last thing.
"Saint."
"Yes, please speak."
"Did I... live stylishly?"
The saint, who shed tears at my question, responded with a bright smile.
"Yes, of course. You lived more stylishly than anyone else. I guarantee it. No, anyone in this world would say you were the most stylish."
"...Thank you." It was a life I worked hard for.
Even in despair, I didn't give up.
Because I had a dream.
Because I wanted to live stylishly.
I killed the evil dragon, shaping the world's tomorrow.
And, the saint acknowledged this Demon Lord.
Is there a more stylish life than this?
Truly, it was a fitting end for me.
Demon Lord Agnes Richard. Exit stage left.
I closed my eyes like that.
***
Reincarnation.
A concept where the body dies, and the soul is reborn into a new body.
Regret is inevitable for humans. Even an Emperor, who seemingly has everything, regrets life's end.
And at this moment, humans earnestly wish for something.
To turn back regrets, for dreams, and sometimes for revenge...
We all dream of a chance to undo regrets.
I was no different.
"Teacher, over here! Here!!"
"Looks like he's finally waking up... Patient, can you see me? Do you feel conscious? Can you see this?"
Blinking.
Bright lights, bizarre apparatus.
People looking down at me.
Reincarnation.
It seems I've gained this opportunity.
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