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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+
Not enough ratings
498 Chs

Is there a way to differentiate between love and Stockholm syndrome?

"You're an author?" I asked without hiding my surprise.

Natha looked at me, also in surprise. "You didn't know?"

Zia too, looked at me in surprise. "You didn't know?!"

Hey—am I supposed to? Wait...was that why she always holed up in the library? Not just because she was engrossed in reading novels? Or was she like them so much that she started to write one on her own?

"Why don't you know? I gave you my book!" Zia pouted, hands on her hips.

"...when?"

"It's on that group of books I brought you the first time!"

What time? Which one? Those books about brides? Are you kidding me? Did she even know anything about brides and marriage? Or love for that matter?

"I...don't read those kinds of..." I confessed awkwardly. She gasped at that, as if I just betrayed her or something, before sinking herself into the couch with her cookie jar while sulking.

It made me curious and I shifted closer to Natha, asking in a whisper. "Which books did she write?"