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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

There’s always a flag inside an event like this

Do you know what's one of the most satisfying things in the world?

It was when our imagination and expectation were met.

I used to lower my expectation about anything. Or rather, having no expectations at all. After all, we wouldn't be disappointed that way. I wasn't disappointed about never visiting an amusement park, and never disappointed about being unable to live long.

Because I never expected myself to live long anyway.

Ah, but how could I not have any expectations when Zia gushed out story after story about the festivals she experienced in the past? She filled my head with colorful's ornaments, various night markets filled with tasty foods and trinkets from all over the world, stage plays, costume parades, assortments of performances, music, and even fireworks.

Yeah, how could I have no expectations hearing about them along the journey?