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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+
Not enough ratings
657 Chs

A masterspy is not your personal postman, okay?

"It's quite thick," I stared at the letter that Heraz gave me.

Well, I said 'letter', but it was almost like a document. A package. Heraz wrapped it in a leather case, and when I opened it, I saw three letters, a small box of candy with a cute little bird's drawing on the lid, and a pretty cord accessory for tying hair.

I glanced at Heraz, who looked as expressionless as ever. But I knew him well enough now to know that he was rather annoyed being treated like a common postman. I pressed my lips to avoid laughing at that--still gotta respect my spy's hustle, you know.

"Have they departed to that accursed kingdom?" I asked him while sorting the letters; each was from the Hero, Fatia, and I guess a combined letter from Zharfa and Aina.

"No, Young Master. They decided to go to the hidden church."

I paused my sorting and looked at the shapeshifter. "You mean...the place in my...father's...map?"