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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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660 Chs

Sticks and Carrots are equally important

"Master," Tsalinade made an awkward curtsy as we approached the sunroom. I had no idea whether it was because it had been a long time since she bowed to anyone, or because she still had some apprehension toward submitting herself to me.

Well, didn't matter to me.

I observed her briefly as we stopped walking. "Are you here because you need another drop of Amrita?" I asked dryly.

It might be because I now knew that Valmeier's grandfather was an identical soul to my grandfather, but I found my annoyance with this magician not lessening one bit--if not increasing. I couldn't say I was glad to see her, so depending on her objective, I would either listen or kick her out.

She flinched and shook her head swiftly. "N-no, that's not--" she paused, biting her teeth and took a deep breath before continuing. "Well...that also why, but I would not dare show my face in front of you with nothing in my hands, Master."