Even though I was abandoned by my parents, even though I wandered through the slums like a back alley, I wanted to live in style. Studying relentlessly, I rose from the common poverty to become the foremost practitioner of the Seven Towers, the pinnacle of the Empire's Black Tower. And someday, the world dubbed me the 'One Man Army,' calling me the Demon King. Then, "Saint, have I... lived in style?" "Yes, indeed, you've lived more stylishly than anyone else. I vouch for it." Before saving the world and meeting my end, the saint acknowledged me, granting me a life more stylish than any other. But? It seems like I've been reborn as the youngest of a renowned swordsmanship clan. I've gained a family I never had before. I've gained trustworthy companions. So, why not continue living in style here as well?..