Chapter 1

The Demon Lord of the Swordsmanship Family

<The Demon Lord of the Swordsmanship Family, Episode 1>

I wanted to live a flashy life.

Even though I was abandoned by my parents and wandered through slums that were like cesspools, I wanted to live a flashy life.

Everyone mocked me for this.

In the slums, I was at the very bottom. A kid who had to beg all day to barely afford one meal would dream of living flashily and boldly? They told me to stop with the nonsense.

I knew it too.

It was an unrealistic dream.

Still, I didn’t give up. I stubbornly chased my dreams, even amid the criticism.

Because this was all I had. Even if the whole world mocked my dream, if this ridiculous dream were to disappear, I feared I’d truly have nothing left.

So, I studied fiercely.

And I did this for the flashiness.

The door to success for someone from the slums is far too narrow.

If you call success in the slums achieving anything, the most feasible path was to get noticed by a thug boss in some back alley and become the head of the underworld.

The next option was to make a name as a soldier and rise through the ranks.

Being the head of the underworld wasn’t flashy enough for me, so I ruled it out.

The option left was being a soldier, but my body was too fragile even for warfare. It seemed far more likely that I’d end up as cannon fodder trying to achieve anything notable.

In the end, all I could depend on was my head.

So, I decided to invest everything in it!

Once I made that decision, I took action.

I bought books with the money I begged for, sometimes even stealing from tribute funds just to get more books. Despite the beatings from the district head that followed, I could smile looking at the books in my arms. There were days when I melted moldy black bread to eat, but I still hungered for knowledge.

Looking back now, I think my younger self instinctively knew this.

It was the last lifeline, the only path to escape this wretched life and realize the dream of living flashily.

Desperate learning pays off in the end.

It was while casually reading a magic textbook—though it was more like a common beginner’s guide—when I discovered my ability to sense mana: Magic.

It was the only talent the heavens had granted me.

Had I settled for reality, had I lost this dream, I would have likely ended my life as a beggar or a pickpocket in the slums.

It must have started around then.

Desiring to live a flashy life.

This absurd yet heartwarming dream started to take shape.

After that, my life went smoothly.

Some scholar once said that the total amount of luck one gets in life is fixed. And this was my case. The luck I’d yearned for but never received until then all came tumbling in at once.

And the best luck of all was probably meeting my master, the old man.

Becoming the disciple of the head of the Black Tower, I naturally became its heir, the great heir to the Black Tower, which among the seven great magic towers of the empire, was considered a top contender.

From being a common slum dweller only a few days ago, all the way to becoming the heir of the Black Tower—it was truly a remarkable turnaround in life.

Finally! I escaped that tiresome despair. Happiness began!

It seemed like the flashy life I’d always dreamed of was finally within reach.

But it was all an illusion.

A huge miscalculation.

Flashy life?

Ha! That damned old man never left me alone. Saying something like, “Great power comes with great responsibility,” he kept me working like crazy.

But that’s absurd.

If that logic holds, what about the emperor? Why didn’t the emperor take responsibility for ruining the west with senseless punitive wars?

It was infuriating.

I had finally started living the flashy life I wanted.

To drink fine wine in a high-class restaurant with class, to discuss the future of this country in the park with friends, to fall in love with a woman who was indifferent to others but warm to me—these were the visions I had.

Instead, I was stuck in a laboratory with no light, forced to consume drugs threatening human dignity for every meal, and dealt with bodies laid open before me rather than confiding friends.

Surely, there’s no fool out there who believed that I wouldn’t talk about a girlfriend after all this.

That’s how I spent twenty damp years in the lab. When I finally emerged:

The world called me an army of one.

The Demon Lord.

Yes, finally!

A flashy life had found me!

…

…

“… Like hell.”

A cough shook my body, and bl**d trickled down.

The bl**d didn’t stop flowing.

Following the flow, I looked below to find parts that should have been on a human were missing.

“Ah… I underestimated this.”

I underestimated. Not even Grandpa Chianshin could have saved me this time.

Feeling the impending d*ath and accepting it, I began to laugh.

The master was right. He said giving up would bring peace, but instead, my heart felt lighter.

After all, it was funny from the start.

How absurd it was—my dream of becoming the Demon Lord, then getting tricked by the Saintess into fighting the Evil Dragon.

Still, I have no regrets for my choices.

It was flashy, wasn’t it?

Could someone known for flashy living have skipped such a big event? Never.

Thus, I joined the expedition to save the world.

We shall destroy the world-devastating Evil Dragon, Tylus!

Our expedition group marched forward with banners flying, heading to the Evil Dragon’s lair.

It was a grueling journey.

An endless series of sacrifices marked the way.

Despite different purposes, we all shared the same end. For the future, for what’s next, people threw themselves in the path to make a way forward.

Trampling on that bloody carpet, we took heavy steps forward.

And finally, in accordance with everyone’s wishes, we defeated the Evil Dragon, Tylus.

See that head that’s rolling there? That? I was the one who cut it off.

Yes, our expedition ended in grand success.

“Hah… Success that’s nothing but wounds is still flashier than failure. Cough.”

The expedition was successful, but there would be no tomorrow for us.

The Sword Master, famed as the First Sword of the Empire, was split in two. The Mercenary King displayed all his axe skills, bragging about them throughout the journey, but was eventually obliterated.

The Guardian of the World Tree, representing the Elves, fought valiantly. His 300 years did not weigh him down; until the end, he troubled the Evil Dragon significantly. Truly, the old ginger is spicy.

But his age eventually caught up with him, and by the end of the battle, he was lying crushed there.

On the other hand, the Dwarf Elder, who wasn’t expected to last long due to his short stature, flew around fiercely, defying everyone’s expectations.

Even he, however, could not avoid the final blow and now lies there peacefully among the others.

This alcohol-loving elder deserves a toast for his last journey, but I’m sorry, that won’t be possible.

Wait a moment. I’ll join you soon.

Over there are the Barbarian Twins. Next to them, the 1st Knight Order of the Empire. Next to them, representatives of the Seven Magic Towers.

All were dead.

The expedition team that had received the praises of all who lived in this land lay there so crushed that their identities couldn’t be confirmed.

Yes, the expedition team destined to gain glory after defeating the Evil Dragon had…

All died.

“Ugh.”

Correction. There’s one left.

A woman rising amidst the corpses.

She was the Saintess, loved by all the world.

But her appearance was pitiful. Her left arm was missing—God knows where—and the beautiful face she’d once been proud of was completely melted on one side.

We can’t do much about the arm, but her face is quite heartbreaking.

The Saintess standing up must have felt similarly to how I did a while ago, as she looked around with eyes filled with despair.

Then her gaze met mine.

“Hey… Cough.”

“Ah…”

The Saintess ran toward me with a look of relief.

“You’re alive!”

“Yeah, but only for a little.”

I grinned and pointed downward with my eyes.

The Saintess, equally skilled in handling life and d*ath as I am, must have understood how little time I had left. The look on her face proves it—she looked like she might cry any moment now.

“…Do not lose hope. You, Demon Lord, you could survive.”

“Spare me. Cough. If you’re gonna lie to me, at least control your expression. Cough!”

She attempted to smile, but a flood of tears burst out instead.

Truly, a woman who couldn’t lie to save her life.

Thinking about it, this woman and I fought a lot.

The Saintess and the Demon Lord.

Doesn’t it seem like we were rivals? And we were.

She called me a hopeless beast without manners or morality, while I labeled her a senseless and rigid idealist who lacked flexibility.

Her cheeks would redden with excitement to the point it looked adorable.

A laugh escaped me.

They say the most terrifying thing is attachment. Master, you were always right.

I’m glad somehow I developed this bond with her. Even in my final moments, I’m fortunate to see her here.

If only something could be done about that half-melted face of hers. She may have a fussy personality, but her beauty was right up my alley.

Thinking about her, it reminded me of something I’d forgotten.

“Hey, cough. Can you try to heal me a bit? Cough! Words are getting hard to come out.”

“Just a moment.”

With her healing force, it was slightly better.

Of course, the opposing auras made me feel nauseous, but it’s a relief nonetheless. With that, I grinned and said what I wanted to say.

“Alright, if you slash open his chest, you’ll find a Dragon Heart. Take it out and use it for healing. It’ll be hard to fix the arm, but it should work for the face.”

“Is that really important right now?”

“What’s more important?”

“Huh… You’re really the same until the end…”

When I jokingly smiled, the Saintess also laughed as if exasperated.

“Yeah, laugh. You look beautiful. I’m going anyway. If I may give you a small piece of advice, don’t just keep that Dragon Heart to atone for us. Use it fast. As the representative survivor, I give you permission.”

“But…”

“Ah, and by the way, if you don’t use it, the emperor will definitely lust after it. Do you want to see that?”

“I absolutely can’t let that happen. I will use it.”

“Good, we finally agree on something.”

I’d like to stroke her head like a good job, but I have no arms left to do so.

It seems it’s time.

My eyelids feel heavy. My vision is fading as my soul tries to leave my body.

It’s really time to go.

And maybe that’s why I want one last confirmation.

“Saintess.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Did… did I live a flashy life?”

At my question, the Saintess, who was crying, broke into a radiant smile and answered me.

“Of course! You lived a far flashier life than anyone. I guarantee it. In fact, everyone in this world will probably agree you were the flashiest of all.”

“… Thank you.”

I tried so hard to live this life.

I never gave up in the face of despair.

Because I had a dream.

Because I wanted to live flashily.

I defeated the Evil Dragon and illuminated the world’s future.

And now, the Saintess has acknowledged this Demon Lord.

Is there anything flashier than that?

This is truly my fitting end.

Demon Lord Agnes Richard exits here.

And with that, I closed my eyes.