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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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655 Chs

The philosophy of a tamer, or something like that

Haa…it felt never-ending.

When I solve one headache, another came as if it had been waiting in the queue. I just finished sorting out the problem of my heart, and now had to walk on another eggshell.

I wanted to ask about it badly: what was wrong with my soul?

My main question was about whether or not they could differentiate a soul from this world and another world. I kept on thinking about it even as I followed the gardener, which felt more like a ranger, to the forest.

Hmm...but that slip-up about my soul came regarding my question about whether or not I looked fragile. So it was highly likely that the problem with my soul was that it looked...fragile, right? Weak, perhaps?

Or...was it looking as ugly as I thought it would be?

I felt like I had become a horrible person these days after all.

"Hnng..." it was hard.

"Young Master, you'll get lost if you're distracted," the cheerful gardener, Doun, clapped his hands to woke me up from my agonized thinking.

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