The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

He dreamt of floating in the dark expanse, with sprinkles of something that looked like shining powders all around. They glowed, some dim, and some bright, looking like stars inside a spacious galaxy.

And then he realized that he was one of the powders, a speck of little light. Only, he was neither shining dimly nor brightly. He was broken. There were cracks all over his abstract form, like porcelain smacked into the ground.

While he was wondering what this was, a shining orb floated in front of him. For some reason, though, it felt familiar. No, not familiar, it felt like a mirror. Like they were the same things—like they were supposed to be the same thing, the same entity. He reached out to the orb with his consciousness, and suddenly the orb flew towards him, and sunk itself into his existence.

Somewhere among the darkness, watchful eyes looked upon him; keenly, sadly, eagerly.

* * *

It took a while for me to realize where I was.

The ceiling was not only unfamiliar, but also way more lavish than I used to. There were delicate carvings of sophisticated craftmanship adorned the ceiling. As I blinked my eyes to consciousness, the softness of the mattress and pillow propping my body came to my senses.

I had never slept in a place this comfortable before, whether it was this life or the one before.

My immediate response to this comfort was to roll my body in delight, wondering where I was and whether or not I can prolong my stay. There was a very nice, very warm, very comfortable blanket that I dove into, as I tried to remember how and why I was there.

Except that I didn't really have to think about it.

Why? Because the answer was there on the bed, right before me, as my rolled body crashed into it.

Into him.

A tall, solid, perfectly sculpted body that was seemingly carved with delicate precision and high attention to detail. Dark blue hair, framing a face that was enough to make people lost in thought. It kind of distracted people from the pair of midnight-colored horns jutted out from that blue locks, which complement the deep blue skin of the man, adorned with tattoo-like lines and patterns crisscrossing his entire body in a darker shade of blue.

I did not exaggerate when I said my mind was short-circuited. I should probably jump out of the bed at this point, but I just froze. My mind went haywire as to why and how I could end up in the same bed with this man.

Or shall I say, this demon?

Would it be racist to say that?

Still in my frozen state, I could only helplessly watch the dark eyelashes flutter open, and the silvery iris against black sclera, like a pair of moonlight on the night sky, greeted my vision. They gazed at me, who could only blink as my mind churned out the hazy memory bank.

This was why you should not get drunk, kids, no matter how upset and stressed you were. Especially if you never drink before.

The man—the demon—rose and hovered at me, staring at what I could only infer as scrutinizing gaze. Of course, he could only look at my peeking head, but the silver eyes were piercing enough I didn't think I could survive if he looked at the rest of me.

If I wasn't stunned enough by this whole situation, then that sharp jaw and cheekbone would freeze me just the same. Man, he was handsome, even if he looked like he could and might kill me any second. It really didn't help that he reminded me of that one hot fourth-year resident I was crushing on for a while.

Wait...that girl author did not model this man off of the doctor, right?

Well, I guessed it was a good thing that I was drunk, because I didn't think I could function properly if I was sober last night, seeing someone with that face asking me for...

What was he asking me again?

"Hmm, you look better," damn, even the voice felt similar. It might be just my mind playing a trick, though. But did you have to be so cruel, girl?

After all, looking at my appearance that wasn't so different from how I looked in my previous life, meaning that the author used me as the dying priest material—even down to the pain my body was feeling.

Not cool, girl, not cool.

...wait. My eyes flickered, and I got up abruptly, sitting on the bed. I looked down at my body—which wore something that didn't belong to me, but that wasn't the point. I moved my hand, my fingers, and patted my chest and abdomen.

There was no pain.

For the first time since I woke up in this world...no, for the first time since forever, there was no pain in my body.

No creaking bones, no aching joint, no sharp piercing sensation in my chest...

A cold hand tilted my chin, and a thumb brushed my cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"...huh?" I looked at the man, who tilted his head in confusion. But I couldn't say anything, just realizing that tears were dripping down my cheek.

"Why, are you still in pain?" a frown, and I flinched, shuffling away from the hand while gathering the blanket around me, as if it could somehow protect me from this man.

Not that he was bad or anything.

"No," I answered shortly, my brain still trying to remember whatever events led to this.

"Oh, good," the man leaned back on the bed again, using his elbow to prop his head while he looked at me. "Otherwise I got threw up on for nothing,"

...what?

Did he just say I...threw up on him?

I blinked, and mentally gasped. Shit. The memory was coming back to me now, thanks to his kind reminder.

———

Moonlight and black wings—that was my last vision before a surge of magic enveloped me, and I had to close my eyes. Even if I didn't, all I could see was the chest of the man that took me away. When I opened my eyes, there was no palace, no rooftop, no cold winter air that aggravate the pain in my body.

The man slowly released me from his hold, and I stepped back, stumbling in my drunk state. Chuckling, he waved his hand and I found myself falling back into a plush sofa instead of the floor.

Cool.

I shook my head to try to clear my mind. Even without looking around, I knew I was in some kind of castle. It was decorated with lavish ornaments that would put the kingdom to shame. We were in the middle of the room, which immediately turned into a sitting area as he dragged other chairs and tables around my sofa.

Right, I was following a total stranger that said he'd brought me to the Demon Lord of Avarice. Surely, the envoy of the demon lord should at least be capable of that much.

But wouldn't he get into trouble for moving up the furniture as he wish?

Or so I thought, before I saw him sitting down casually on the chair in front of me; leg crossed, an arm slung on the backrest. And he just stared at me, silently, with a subtle smile on his face.

Oh.

I was drunk, but I wasn't stupid.

"I don't think I'm that important for a Demon Lord to personally come and fetch me," one benefit of being drunk was the possibility of becoming more brazen.

Right, it was weird that a mere envoy could bypass the anti-demon barrier in the Capital and the palace. If an envoy could do that, then the kingdom should have already fallen to the demon's army. Which meant that the envoy wasn't actually an envoy, but a much more powerful being.

Also, he mentioned that I would be meeting the Demon Lord. There was no way a servant would be so brazen as to sit casually when the Lord could be coming anytime soon.

Unless, of course, the Demon Lord was already here.

The subtle smile stretched wider, and the glamour was fading with a ripple. I watched in fascination as dark horns seemingly grew from the top of his forehead. The pale skin turned darker until it was shimmering in deep blue color, and dark lines formed patterns along the transformed skin.

Honestly, I had no knowledge about demons in this world, because even the priest here only had hearsay. It wasn't like they were actively trying to conquer the whole world. In the whole first volume, the only demon lord to appear was the Demon Lord of Wrath, and he was depicted as a red-skinned, hulking giant. So it seemed like demons had different forms from each other. Looking at Valmeier's memory, the Wrath's subordinates also had various kinds of skin colors, although they were mainly red-skinned berserkers.

It was fascinating, this transformation. It cemented the fact that I was in a presence of a non-human entity.

Since I spent most of my life inside a solitary room and the hospital, I rarely interacted with different kinds of people. But now, I even met someone that wasn't human.

I couldn't help but smile at that. My drunk mind felt giddy with this new experience. Perhaps I shouldn't, since I was basically in an enemy's lair, but I couldn't help it.

They were not my enemy.

"What do you mean you're not important enough?" the man tapped on the backrest with a deep smile etched on his face. "You're the one who destroyed four of Wrath's hearts, aren't you?"

Ah...so he knew.

"The real 'hero' of the war who massacred Wrath's advance army, the High Priest of Judgment, Valmeier,"

Ha ha.

"What is the demon's slaughterer want from me, I wonder..."

'Ah, I'm screwed'.