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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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662 Chs

With different enemies, comes different approach

Instead of going out, we went even deeper inside the dungeon. This time, I didn't even need to deliberately make my face look serious and menacing. Aside from how angry I was at Angwi's story, the deeper floor was also more eerie.

The black stone of the wall felt colder, and the sconces let out a faint blue light that might be mistaken as drifting souls. Our footsteps echoed loudly through the narrow stairs and hallway, drowning my increasing heartbeat.

After going through corridors that felt as if it was modeled after a haunted house, we reached a metal door with more lock formations than the most secured bank. The formations weren't just in the door, but also the walls, ceiling, and floor, making it a huge vault.

In that room, even if someone were to die, their soul would get trapped there instead of swimming into the world of nothingness.