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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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499 Chs

The enemy of your friend does not necessarily become your enemy too

"Your Excellency,"

I stood up as Issa and the other elves came to the greenhouse the next day. They had asked to meet me during the banquet, but thanks to yet another mishap on my day, I couldn't receive them yesterday. So I invited them to my private space as an apology.

"Oh, you don't have to stand," Issa hurriedly extended her arms and grasped my hand. "I heard something bad happened yesterday."

I looked at the smooth, fair hands clasping mine, wondering when did we become this friendly? But the genuine concern on their face made it impossible for me to retract my hand. Well...not that it was uncomfortable.

"Ah, it's just...a little mishap," I told them with an awkward smile.

"A little?" one of the elves gasped. "The vibration even reached our lodging."

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