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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

Who said a Nightmare couldn't be cute?

I thought, after my blatant protest over the topic, and after Lesta told Arta to work, they would stop the conversation. Little did I know that the conversation only getting deeper, now with extra snacks and drinks and a paper in front of Arta.

"But what kind of outfit would you like for the wedding, Young Master? I need to design it now so we have time for details later," she said, starting to draw something before I even answered.

"What...design?"

"It should be white,"

I snapped my head toward the low voice that could only be coming from none other than the Demon Lord. "Nat?"

What was this, my Lord? Why were you participating now? You said it was just to let them have fun earlier!

Glancing at my dumbfounded expression, Natha smiled and repeated. "I'd like to see him in white."

"Dat dat da raa~ dat dat da raa~" Izzi moved his arms in the air as if playing a wedding tune on a piano, and I hurled the last three of my popcorn toward him.

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