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The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world. That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue. And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after. Fortunately, I know just the cure. Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with. Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway. “Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said. ...huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Aerlev · LGBT+

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498 Chs

A somewhat fluffy day

In the middle of checking on his wedding logistics, Demon Lord of Greed, Matsa Ra Natha, paused and blinked, eliciting a curious look from his secretaries.

"What's wrong, my Liege?" Malta looked at the Nightmare, who looked like he was frozen for two seconds.

"I'm not sure..." the Lord said vaguely--a rare occurrence. He put the papers he was reading down and leaned back on his seat, rubbing his lips. "I have this weird feeling that my sweetheart is about to do something very foolish."

"But aren't Young Master in the Lair, my Lord?" one of the secretaries said. "How can he do something foolish over there under Madam Angwi's watch?"

"Not even her eyes can fully watch him," the silver eyes narrowed. "My sweetheart has a knack for finding secluded places..." he paused. "And getting himself in trouble."

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