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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
657 Chs

Looking forward to things I couldn't do before

The fire was still alive and colorful, and it felt like the night only get brighter.

Natha led me to a big tent across the stage, where a cluster of seating areas had been arranged. It seemed to be done so to accommodate those who would like to talk to Natha. 

And just like that, the moment Natha appeared, he was surrounded by the merchants and visitors that had been wanting to talk to him since our shopping date. Meanwhile, I found myself being pulled by familiar arms.

"Oh!" Arta exclaimed when she saw me, raising my arms and twirling me around as if I was wearing a ball gown or something when all I did was put on the traveling merchant's colorful tunic and poncho.

Although, since it was loose, the fabric did move nicely around my length as I was being twirled around. 

"Young Master is lovely in any clothes," she said while squeezing my cheeks.