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 Demon King tilted his head--and so did I, because we had never discussed this before.

"A deal?" the Demon King took the plate he had been preparing--was it a cheese board?--to the table. "From my competitor?"

Natha did not reply, just waiting for the Demon King to make a decision. We watched him relaxedly enjoy his snack for a while, before he finally chuckled.

"Interesting," he snapped his hand to conjure an ice bucket with champagne bottles inside and a flute glass. "I'll at least hear you out."

Natha looked at me and nodded, so, albeit reluctantly, I followed him to the table. The Demon King did not bother to offer us refreshment, but I actually preferred that. I wouldn't dare to eat or drink anything from this place anyway, so I merely sat down to rest my hands a little bit.

Carrying a baby was a heavy exercise, you know.

"Speak," the Demon King said. "What is your offer?"

Parents know there's so much power packed in a baby's hands