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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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657 Chs

Puny mortals need to adapt for their new prolonged lifespan

"Valen?"

On the evening before dinner, when my friends were back in their rooms getting ready for the big dinner we would have and my husband was yet to come back from the banquet preparation meeting, Aunt Nezja caught me staring blankly at the dark sky on the balcony.

I blinked stupidly as my mind was trying to register her presence, and only managed to reply three seconds later. "Oh, you're here, Aunt?"

I couldn't blame her for looking at me suspiciously. "What's wrong?"

Clutching the new scroll I just received tightly, my answer came with a slight flinch. "H-huh? N-nothing?"

Yeah. Very convincing, Val.

As expected, Aunt Nezja came over and sat beside me instead of going back inside. Her uncompromising gaze that always reminded me of a Headmaster made me feel tensed somehow, even if I didn't particularly do anything wrong.