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)

Whether it was the auction house's excellence or Heraz's presence, the commotion soon ended. As a bonus, the auction house even sent us more refreshments as an apology.

"It seems like they are usually staying in this booth?"

"In a place where money plays, one's rank is easily changeable," Zarfa shrugged. "It just means your account has a higher limit than theirs."

"But the only one who would know is the auction house, so it's easy for them to think it's unfair," Fatia explained further. "After all, everyone here has a platinum medallion. They probably didn't think there was anyone wealthier than them here."

I glanced at her curiously. "Do you know them?"

"The voice sounds like one of the nobles," there was a bit of underlying scoff in Fatia's seemingly calm response.

"Is it rare to have a platinum medallion?" I asked curiously. I knew Zarfa didn't have it, but she was relatively new in this kingdom, so...

Bidding is easier if you treat your entire wealth as a spending money