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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+
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
656 Chs

It’s fine to test your husband once in a while

For the umpteenth time that day, I let out a sigh; staring blankly outside the window from the empty research floor. The cushions scattered around the carpet were a reminiscence of how many people hung out there in the past; Izzi, Zia, Lesta, sometimes Eruha...

None of them were here now. 

I felt so heartbroken. 

"Are you alright, Young Master?" the imps asked worriedly, holding a blanket and a tray filled with all kinds of warm drinks.

Oh, I guessed it wasn't truly empty, but...

Haa...it's different.

"Are you sad, Young Master?" Arta stroked my head, and my lower lip just jutted out in response.

"You think?"

She chuckled and just kept stroking my head. "Oh, how it saddens me to know I'm no longer enough to accompany you..."

"What are you talking about when you have been so busy this month?" I pursed my lips and rolled to the other side, prompting Arta to laugh.