The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 177: Another jerk from House Kalia.

Chapter 177: Another jerk from House Kalia.

’Why not? It’s entertaining,’ Ren replied, her voice light and teasing in his head.

Kai’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening as he stood up, a surge of energy rushing through him. The wave of his aura lashed the air around him. He shouted across the field, his voice commanding. "Loka, you face me!"

The feline shifter, who had been observing from the sidelines, bowed his head in acknowledgment.

A hint of a grin tugged at Ren’s lips. ’You’re jealous!’ she snapped through the bond, clearly amused.

’And you enjoy it. Now, tell me, which of his arms should I break first for my wife to have more fun?’

Ren’s playful expression faltered. ’I was joking! Don’t hurt him. Fight with honor, show these bastards around me that they have every reason to fear my husband.’

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Kai’s face as he glanced back at her, a flicker of dark mischief lighting up his eyes. Gods, Ren thought, is he supposed to be this luring?

Her breath caught in her throat.

And then, click. Click. Click.

She heard the unmistakable sound of heels striking stone. Her eyes broke from Kai’s intoxicating gaze and drifted to Araben.

That mad murderer.

From Araben, her gaze shifted to Lora. There was a fresh bruise blooming under her left eye and a thin, red scratch carved across her cheek. It was a nail mark.

Around her, the whispers started to buzz:

"Look! The King of Thegara took off his shirt!"

"Wow... that body!"

"I swear, if he cheats on me, I wouldn’t even care, just come back to bed and fuck me hard, lucky princess!"

Ren swallowed hard, her jaw tightening as she fought the sudden urge to leap up and slap the entire row of swooning onlookers.

The whispers were loud enough for Araben to hear clearly, and Ren knew it. She glanced at Arkilla, whose eyes were already locked on her. The Luna Queen offered a knowing, elegant smile.

"Sister, it is such a pleasure that you’ve come," she said smoothly, her voice laced with false warmth.

Ren’s gaze flicked to Josa, who stood nearby in a stunning, provocatively tailored gown. Gods, she thought, she’s even more exquisite than before.

"Oh, that’s Josa," Ren said, her tone neutral but edged. "I see you’ve helped her become a proper lady."

Araben straightened her shoulders with pride. "Hm. I did." Her eyes roamed the field with a gleam of anticipation. "Now, where is that stupid Darsein? I’m here to laugh when your husband breaks his bones."

Typical Araben. If she hadn’t said something venomous, Ren might have actually been surprised.

Out on the training field, Kai twirled his sword with casual confidence, waiting for the young feline shifter to approach. But before the duel could begin, a voice rang out sharply across the arena:

"Wait! Your beast king is mine."

All eyes turned as Filoy Darsein made his grand entrance from one of the many arched corridors leading to the sparring ring. He wore a stiff, official black suit, clearly dressing more for spectacle than for a fight.

"I thought you’d changed your mind, beast!" Filoy sneered, drawing his sword and charging without hesitation.

The young man launched his attack with the enthusiasm of someone who thought he had a chance.

Kai vanished like smoke, reappearing behind him in a blink. With the flat of his blade, he delivered a swift, humiliating smack to Filoy’s backside.

The sound of laughter burst in the entire place.

How? How the hell was he as fast as a ghost? A chill ran down Filoy’s spine. The silver-cold terror flooding his veins made it nearly impossible to hold the weight of his extravagant sword.

He stumbled forward, barely gripping the ornate weapon in his trembling hands. Shame burned his cheeks a furious red, and when the King’s laughter echoed across the training field, it ignited a deeper fury within him.

"Hm, you’ve come to make a clown of yourself, human? Be my guest," Kai called out, his voice rich with amusement.

The spectators laughed, hooting at the foolish display. The sound only twisted the knife deeper into Filoy’s pride.

This time, he gritted his teeth and clutched the hilt with both hands. His legs felt like lead, but he forced himself forward, attacking with all the speed and strength he could summon.

Kai tilted his head slightly, unbothered. "Not bad! At least you’re eager to die."

Filoy’s blade sliced through the air, but Kai had already vanished again.

The sword struck a wooden weapon case instead, sinking into the timber with a violent thunk, its edge buried deep in the grain. At least proving his sword was sharp.

Filoy struggled to wrench his sword free from the wooden case, panting, his pride in tatters. Kai strolled up beside him with maddening calm.

"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern.

Filoy bared his teeth, eyes wild with humiliation. "I’m going to kill you."

Abandoning the sword, he swung a curled fist toward Kai’s face.

But Kai moved like flowing water, graceful, and effortless. He caught Filoy’s wrist mid-air, twisted the arm sharply, and drove his foot into the back of Filoy’s knees with such brutal force that a sickening crack echoed across the arena.

Filoy screamed from deep in his gut, collapsing as his leg buckled. He gasped for breath, clutching his shattered knee.

"You broke my knees!" he wailed.

Kai leaned in close, his lips brushing Filoy’s ear. "You lucky ass... I was going to break your neck, but that wouldn’t be as fun. Dare you call my wife’s name again, I rip you apart. Your Precious princess is mine, now. "

Just as he said it, another sharp, piercing sound ripped through the arena, slicing through the heavy silence like a thunderclap.

The arm Filoy had used to wield his sword now hung useless, broken.

Kai shoved him down into the wet sand, where he writhed and screamed in agony. The sharp scent of sweat and blood filled the air.

Ren watched without a flicker of pity. There was no way she would heal him, nor would she allow Agara to intervene. Just another jerk from House Kalia was in pain.

Kai turned toward her and caught the satisfied smirk curving her lips. So, he thought, my little wife did enjoy a good fight after all.

"Ah, boring!" King Benkin called out, his voice rising with mockery. "A knight? Who gave you that title? Because I don’t recall it."

The King scoffed and glanced at Chancellor Oka, who had rushed into the arena, pale-faced and panicked, to tend to his injured nephew.

Filoy Darsein, so proud, so loud, now lay broken in the dirt. The so-called knight of House Darsein.

Well, King Benkin thought with satisfaction, at least the chancellor would be busy cleaning up this mess. And with him preoccupied, Lord Alekin would finally have time to deal with his long-missing elder daughter. Without eyes following him around.

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