Surviving marriage in yandere world-Chapter 50: And So… He Accidentally Got Engaged

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Chapter 50: Chapter 50: And So... He Accidentally Got Engaged

It started, as all world-ending events do, with tea and a sneeze.

A perfectly innocent, violently inconvenient sneeze.

Rei was back in his room—finally alone—after barely surviving what could generously be described as a "romantic hostage situation" with Lucivella, the Demon Queen, in her private celestial dimension. Imagine a place that looked like a cosmic wedding venue designed by a love-struck deity with a Pinterest addiction and zero concept of restraint: floating starlight petals, gravity-defying rose fountains, and a moon-shaped bed made of crushed velvet and eldritch horror.

Needless to say, he needed a break badly.

So there he sat, disheveled and traumatized, perched at the edge of his stupidly enormous, gold-trimmed bed carved with cherubs in love-heart helmets. His silk robe was slipping off one shoulder, my soul-bond mark still glowed faintly on his chest like a demonic tattoo sticker he couldn’t peel off, and he was sipping tea hot enough to smelt dwarven ore.

"I’ll deny everything," he muttered, swishing the cup in my hands. "Plausible deniability with classic strategy and It works in politics, taxes, and marriages I didn’t agree to."

The System chimed in, always eager to ruin my day.

[SYSTEM NOTICE: Plausible Deniability Unavailable. Five Yandere Proposals Detected.]

[Soul-Bond Status: Lit. Literally.]

[Advice: Have you considered relocating to another dimension? Preferably one without oxygen?]

He sighed. "Not helping, System."

He tilted back the teacup for another sip and that’s when the leaves betrayed him.

A rogue sprinkle of powdered cinnamon dusted the tip of his nose, and before he could so much as curse the cursed decorative spice—

"ACHOO—OKAY!"

The sneeze blasted from his throat like a divine oath hurled into the heavens.

It echoed across the palace halls. It was loud and resonant. The kind of sneeze that priests would transcribe into sacred scripture. The kind of sneeze that made the gods pause their celestial game of chess and mutter, "Did he just... accept five proposals?"

Then Silence followed whole place.

The kind of silence that crawls into your bones and taps politely on your spine before dropkicking your instincts then... chaos.

Lilia’s Room: Shrine of Questionable Devotion.

A small, pink-walled chamber smelled of roses and obsession. The air was thick with lavender incense. Hanging from every surface were photographs of his face—some cheerful, some unconscious. All lovingly labeled.

Lilia sat cross-legged on a satin pillow, brushing a rose petal against a framed photo labeled "Rei Breathes Softly – Year 7."

Then came the voice, distant but unmistakable, like a lover’s whisper carried on a divine wind.

"ACHOO—OKAY!"

She froze and her were Eyes wide and lips parting in reverent shock.

"...He consented."

Now her entire body shivered like a struck tuning fork. She stood so fast the petal combusted midair.

"It’s happening," she whispered. "Our wedding is happening."

She tore open a velvet drawer and pulled out a book titled "Rei’s Ideal Wedding According to him (And Only Me)."

"Dress code: My blood type.

Theme: Eternal Obsession.

Vows: ’Till death do us part, and even then, I’ll haunt you.’ Perfect."

[AFFECTION LEVEL: MAXIMUM ENGAGEMENT]

[MOOD: DEVOTED. DANGEROUS. DOILIES.]

Atop a spiraling ivory spire that defied physics and budget, Seraphina lounged in a throne of books shaped like a crescent moon.

She was midway through writing her 127th tragic romantic play: "Ode to His Eyelashes: A Tragedy in Four Acts."

Then, from the heavens—

"ACHOO—OKAY!"

The quill dropped from her delicate fingers. A page fluttered down with the title: "He Agrees, Therefore We Wed."

"I knew it!" she gasped. "His sneeze was laced with longing!"

She flipped to a fresh page of her spellbook and began scripting her wedding vows in elven runes made of sparkling stardust.

"Ring design: Elven script etched into his favorite spoon." She giggled. "He’ll never see it coming."

[AFFECTION LEVEL: GENUINELY DANGEROUS]

[MOOD: SWAN DIVES INTO MATRIMONY]

Rosette’s had a Closet Dungeon (She Lives There Now)

In the eastern servant wing, behind a sealed wardrobe, Rosette sat in the shadows of a walk-in closet-turned-war room. Surveillance crystals buzzed on the walls, each showing a different room of the manor. One feed showed him sipping tea.

Her lips didn’t move, Then it echoed—

"ACHOO—OKAY!"

She reached over, picked up a black veil, and silently placed it over her head.

"He has accepted the pact."

From a drawer, she removed a box labeled "Wedding Day Tools"—a gleaming set of knives arranged like bridal silverware.

[AFFECTION LEVEL: UNREGISTERED ENTITY – ERROR]

[MOOD: BLISSFULLY BLOODTHIRSTY]

Drakana’s Volcanic Spa of Muscle and Mayhem

Deep beneath the manor’s training grounds, Drakana lounged in a lava pit like it was a hot tub. Her body glistened with molten sweat, her eyes burning brighter than ever.

"ACHOO—OKAY!"

She leapt up with enough force to launch steam geysers.

"He said it! Finally!"

She unsheathed her magma blade and pointed it skyward.

"Time to forge the ceremonial wedding sword!"

She proceeded to roundhouse-kick a flaming boulder into orbit.

[AFFECTION LEVEL: MAXIMUM – FLAMING INTENSITY DETECTED]

[MOOD: DEATH BY SNU-SNU]

Lucivella’s Starry Love Dimension

In a floating dream realm of constellations and crimson wine, Lucivella reclined under a phantom willow tree. The branches wept cosmic light.

She sipped her drink, eyes half-lidded.

"ACHOO—OKAY!"

She didn’t even blink. Just smiled.

"Consent sealed and destiny obeyed now."

A swirling black feather quill appeared in her hand. She began writing marriage invitations on dark velvet scrolls.

"I’ll send them via dragonfire. Formalities must be observed."

[AFFECTION LEVEL: ALREADY MARRIED IN HER HEAD]

[MOOD: SOOTHING AND SCARY]

Back To Rei, The Source of All Doom

He was still rubbing his nose and a faint ringing filled the air.

Then—

BOOM.

CRASH.

The door to his room exploded off its hinges with the kind of drama usually reserved for divine smiting or soap operas. freewёbnoνel.com

They stood there.

All five of them.

Each in bridal attire—uniquely horrifying in its own right.

Drakana: muscle-bound in a fire-resistant wedding cuirass trimmed with ivory lace.

Seraphina: ethereal silks floating like magic in a private storm cloud.

Lilia: a hand-stitched dress made from his old shirts.

Rosette: funeral black with matching gloves and an embroidered skull veil.

Lucivella: effortless, floating, and glowing, not even fair.

They stared at him like he was the last donut in the apocalypse.

"I brought my vows," Seraphina said sweetly.

"I forged a ring... from the bones of my last suitor," Drakana grinned.

"I already signed the marriage license in blood," Lilia whispered, brandishing a crimson-stained scroll.

"I replaced your socks with mine," Rosette added, tilting her head. "You’ve been wearing my proposal for days."

Lucivella floated down and gently touched my cheek. "I just need you to breathe. That’s enough."

Rei tea dropped from his hands.

"THIS IS A MISUNDERSTANDING!"

"You said okay," Lilia said with eerie certainty.

"You sneezed," Seraphina nodded. "In elven culture, that’s spiritually binding."

"You twitched your eyebrow," Rosette added. "A standard butler courtship cue."

"You exhaled in my presence," Drakana growled. "Full marriage in dragon lore!"

Lucivella just smiled. "You’re mine by cosmic law. The rest is formality."

He backed away, wielding a broom like a holy staff.

"Can we talk about this with—maybe—a lawyer?! Or an exorcist?!"

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: EXORCIST UNAVAILABLE]

[ENGAGEMENT STATUS: QUINTUPLE CONFIRMED]

[SURVIVAL RATE: Please Stop Checking. It’s Depressing.]

He sprinted toward the window—

Only to find it replaced with a heart-shaped magical mirror. It cooed softly: "Welcome home, husband."

"NOPE."

Rei yanked open the secret dumbwaiter shaft—my last hope.

Rosette was already inside, holding a bouquet of knives.

"I anticipated this escape. Shall we go to the altar... or the morgue?"

"GODS, WHY?!"

[SYSTEM: Because you’re charming. Obviously.]

Meanwhile... At the Kingdom’s Marriage Office

Mildred, an overworked clerk with a tea stain on her robe, sipped her cold coffee and stared blankly at her desk.

Then it happened.

Five glowing scrolls slammed down in unison like divine tax forms from hell.

Each bore the title: Marriage Application — Groom: Rei Everhart.

Each with a different seal: Dragon Clan, Elven Royalty, Demon Queen’s Crest, Maid Guild, and Stalker Association (unofficial, but terrifying).

Mildred blinked.

"All... for the same guy?"

She stamped them slowly.

"Guess I’m filing this under Yandere Apocalypse."

Back In Rei Room.

"You guys are being unreasonable!" he cried, holding a mop now. The broom had betrayed him.

"You made five proposals," Seraphina accused.

"I SNEEZED!"

"Exactly," Lucivella said, smiling. "In my culture, that’s legally romantic."

Rei mop slipped from his grasp then he dropped to his knees, defeated.

"Fine. I’m engaged. You win. Happy?"

They gasped. One by one, their eyes sparkled like deranged stars.

From somewhere distant, a church bell tolled.

[SYSTEM ALERT: EMERGENCY OVERRIDE — AFFECTION LEVEL MAXED FOR ALL TARGETS]

[YOU ARE NOW ENGAGED TO FIVE YANDERES]

[ESTIMATED SURVIVAL CHANCE: STATISTICALLY HILARIOUS]

The Marriage Office, One Minute Later. Dozens of clerks were in uproar.

"Five royal weddings!"

"Same groom!"

"Each bride demands exclusivity!"

The chief archivist looked up, pale.

"This is going to break the kingdom’s bureaucracy."

He turned slowly toward the Holy Archive of Marital Law.

It caught fire spontaneously.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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