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)

The Salamander answered while licking its lips with a flaming forked tongue. "We make a contract."

I blinked and paused for a few seconds while Natha rubbed the flame stigma on my wrist. "...what?!" I belatedly reacted, standing up so fast Jade was wobbling and jolted off my shoulder. "What contract?"

"You don't know about a contracted beast?" the Salamander looked at me in surprise.

The one who responded to me was Natha, who uttered it with an annoyed sigh. "It's like an annoying pet."

"Hey!" the Salamander protested again. This time it didn't stomp the ground, but whipped the air with its flaming tail.

"But can you just do it like that?" my brows furrowed and I looked disapprovingly at my apparently new contracted beast. "Contract should be two-sided, you know! You didn't even ask for my opinion before hand! Even Natha asked me first--even if I was drunk at that time!"

Playing with fire in a non-arsonist way