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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

You shouldn't drop a spoiler in the middle of a meal, Sis!

When you're in Rome, do what the Romans do. When you're in the land of gluttony, stuff your mouth with food as often as possible!

That was my impression of the culture here.

There was a reason why there was a dining table in the court hall. It was because they liked to do everything while having a meal, whether it was just a snack or a full-course dinner. From conducting negotiations to policy making, most important talks happened surrounding the dining table, and of course, the food on top of it.

And when they had a feast, it was a FEAST.

I wasn't just talking about the amount of food, but the quality. It was a gourmand's wet dream, I imagined, seeing all of these foods made of rare ingredients such as the ten-thousand-something root, the meat or something brewed in hundred-essence something, or the wine made of a fruit that only appeared in one island once every fifty years.