FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING - Chapter 3: THE BEAST AND THE FALLEN

Layton just wanted a weekend alone in the wilderness. Instead, he woke up in a nightmare.Earth has been inducted into a multiversal system, and survival is no longer guaranteed. Forced into a brutal wave dungeon with no warning, no tutorial, and no gear, Layton accidentally locks himself into the weakest class—Healer.That’s when things start feeling… off.He’s leveling way too fast. His so-called “support” class? Feels anything but weak. And his only ally? A too-intelligent, bloodthirsty predator that might be more than just an animal.Something is wrong with this system. Layton just has to survive long enough to figure out what.

The most feared Assassin in the world died because of vengeance.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.

What?! The sticking to her daily, eating her tofu (taking advantage of her ) is a cross-dresser?

Not to mention that he is the Evil Highness!! She had slept beside him, and was touched by him, what a big loss!

Ah–!

Softly on his chest, listening to his pounding, strong heartbeat, her face turned red. Her greatest desire was to be in his arms.

She never dared to dream before, dared not wish for, and thought that in this life there was no such chance. This had been in her most secret heart of hearts, she longed for his warmth, longed for his love.

Even though he had hurt her before, he had given her more tenderness than others.

Being teased, loved, laughed at… had infiltrated into her bloodstream. Love, she did not know when it had taken root, for when she discovered it, it had grown into a towering tree, no longer able to be split open or cut off.

His hug, his warmth, she would not allow him to give it to others. If they were not only for her, she would rather not have them.

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