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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+
Pas assez d’évaluations
659 Chs

There's no such thing as too much proposal

"Vrida!"

[Vrida!]

Both of us threw ourselves and hugged the wyvern's neck. Vrida, the sweet girl, purred softly and enveloped us with its right wing. 

"Have you been good? Have you eaten your breakfast?" I stroked her snout and looked into its yellow eyes, which were blinking softly. 

"Don't worry, Young Master. She's a disciplined girl," the keeper said, patting the side of Vrida's stomach.

"Good girl!" I stroked both sides of her cheek one last time before retreating toward the edge of Vrida's nest. 

Vrida's nest was made of vines, woods, and river stones; an open dome structure like the Temple--probably because Vrida's old Nest in the Castle was not far from it. From the edge of the nest, I could look at the ravine below; a blue stream around five meters wide and three meters deep. 

Probably enough for a small boat, right?