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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

The Art of Bargaining is always asked for exaggerated things at the start

Their eyes were now on Alveitya, who was vibrating proudly beside me. Even the chirping little bird who adorably flew around it did not lessen the charisma it was trying to show.

The first one to make a voice was Zarfa, who stood up while grabbing her chest and gasped. "Is...is that...Alveitya?"

"Yes," I nodded, trying hard to control and prevent myself from gushing out about it to Zarfa.

She must have been curious, as the one who had been writing about it--even if it turned out to be a revelation and not purely coming from her imagination.

But I couldn't let myself falter here.

The second person to speak was the Hero; "But...that's..."

"Different?" I smiled, and Alveitya buzzed again as if scoffing. "What you had seen before was the 'spear' in its dormant state. But Alveitya wasn't just a spear, it's a--"

"Scepter..." Tsalinade finished my sentence in a daze. "The Royal Scepter..."

"What?!"