Aerlev

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?

The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

I mean...could he at least give me a heads-up or something? I thought we were going to his room, not to a place where his subordinate was waiting.


Gosh—how many are they? One, two...ten? I counted them swiftly, from the one who looked like a three meters giant to the one who looked like a boy. They were all staring—of course, they would be staring! 


In a flurry of thoughts, I half expected someone would react strongly like that time during the festival. I didn't really remember it well, but I was sure someone was trying to attack me then. I was too busy relieving bad memories of this body stabbing Natha to remember which one though.


But while they were staring, they also seemed to freeze in place, looking at me with widened eyes and stiff expressions. Almost like they also didn't know they would see me there.


My Lord, we aren’t married yet