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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

Keeping things compatible with children is hard...

When we got back to the oasis, the whole crowd was waiting for us eagerly. Judging from the lack of agitation, however, it was probably safe to say that they already knew that the mountain was safe. Lesta probably told them already.

The one who greeted us first, however, was Arta, who looked me up and down with judging eyes. "You're wearing something different, Young Master."

Oh, shot! Those clothes were the ones Arta specially assembled for me. "Uh...they got burned?" I answered with a grimace.

"What?!" she widened her eyes in outrage, as if the state of my clothes was more important than the fact that I was on them when they got burnt.

"Y-Your Lordship...was Lord Salamander upset, by any chance?" one of the merchant leaders, who I recalled to be the Pathfinder's father--asked anxiously upon hearing my reasoning.

Ah, I guessed they were still worried about that. Make sense, since they had to cross the mountain regularly.