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)

An hour after the sun went down, the party started to gather one by one in Zarfa's mansion. I was so busy trying to solve the maze box puzzle that I only came out after Zarfa picked me up in my room.

Well, not having to wait around for everyone to arrive was a plus on its own.

"It's been a while, Sir Valen," Fatia made a small curtsy, needlessly stoic as always.

No matter how much I told her to call me 'Valen' like others, she did not budge. I knew it was born out of respect for what I had done and also my 'status'--if you'd call it that--so it was harder to tell her off about it. All I could do was swallow my sigh and get used to it.

"It's been a year, isn't it?" I swept my gaze across the room to take a brief look at every one.

People follow the one with the money