Demon King of the Sword Arts Sect

I wanted to live looking cool.

Even though I was abandoned by my parents and drifted through filthy slums,

I still wanted to live looking cool.

By studying desperately, I rose from a common slum rat to the young master of the Black Tower, the foremost of the empire’s seven magic towers.

And before I knew it, the world called me a one-man army, a demon king.

Then there was this.

“Saint, did I... live coolly?”

“Of course. You lived more coolly than anyone. I guarantee it.”

Before I died after saving the world, the saint acknowledged this demon king.

What kind of life could be cooler than that?

But?

Apparently, I’ve been reborn as the youngest child of some swordsmanship family.

I now have family I never had before.

I now have companions I can trust.

Then here too, I should live coolly once again, shouldn’t I?