Even the Devil Regrets it - Chapter 37

Braeden let out a breath and took in everything that had just happened. His mind quickly began to work through the situation.

When he first entered the tournament, his goal had been to win and receive the kiss of the goddess from Juliana. That glorious moment was meant to confirm that she belonged to him. He had even thought it would be satisfying to show that moment to Empress Pamela as a bold statement.

But as unexpected incidents kept disrupting the matches, there were many moments when he nearly abandoned the tournament entirely.

That was when he realized something had changed. In the past, he had competed in jousting tournaments simply to add excitement to an otherwise dull life. But now, he had someone more important than victory.

This is perfect. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out anyway.

He made no effort to protect himself when a shard of the lance flew toward his face. The sharp edge scraped his cheek and neck, where the helmet provided no cover, and blood began to trickle down.

He was about to throw the match, falling from his horse and ending it all with a believable loss. But suddenly, his opponent’s movements changed. Something was wrong.

Inside the broken lance was a hidden blade. The man aimed directly for one of Braeden’s vital points.

He didn’t want to win. He wanted to kill me.

Braeden let out a dangerous smile and pulled his body back. From a distance, the weapon was thin and almost invisible, which made it look like the fighter was simply swinging the broken lance to finish the match.

Braeden’s instincts screamed at him to strike the man down immediately. But he held back. He had his own plan, and he needed to see it through.

Instead, he staggered and fell from his horse.

Gasps filled the arena. Braeden, the undefeated champion for five years in a row, had fallen.

Some people blinked in disbelief, unable to process what they had just seen. Others groaned loudly, already mourning the money they had lost in bets.

Then, when the crowd noticed the blood streaming down Braeden’s cheek and neck, screams broke out. Chaos quickly followed.

The referee declared the other man the winner, but his voice was shaky. The sight of a bleeding duke forced him to urgently call for a healer.

At that moment, Lochlan appeared with his men and quickly took control of the situation.

“We will escort His Grace ourselves.”

Supported by his subordinates, Braeden walked slowly away from the arena. As he passed, he looked back at his opponent.

The man did not look satisfied with winning. He looked disappointed that he had failed to kill Braeden.

“Find out who’s behind this.”

Braeden spoke in a low voice.

“Yes, understood. Let’s get you out of here first,” Lochlan replied with a long, troubled sigh.

At that same time, Juliana was watching everything with clenched fists, her whole body trembling.

She had hoped so desperately that her ominous feeling was wrong. But it wasn’t.

I’ll be fine. Do not worry about me.

At the moment the lance shattered and fragments flew through the air, Braeden’s voice echoed in her mind.

It was a strange sensation, almost unreal. If it hadn’t been for that voice, Juliana might have rushed into the arena right then and there.

Barely able to control her impulse, Juliana forced herself to stay calm and opened her eyes wide to regain focus.

But when she saw Braeden walking out of the arena covered in blood, her legs almost gave out beneath her.

“Is he going to be alright? He looked seriously injured.”

“He’s the Guardian of the North. He’ll get back on his feet in no time.”

The murmurs around her buzzed in her ears like a low hum, as if the whole world was underwater.

Suddenly, someone pushed through the crowd and grabbed her by the shoulder. The grip was harsh, strong enough to jolt her fully back to awareness.

“What are you doing here?”

Count Barnett lowered his voice, aware of the people around them.

“What are you doing?”

Juliana twisted her shoulder and slipped out of his grip.

Robert Barnett narrowed his eyes and spoke with quiet fury.

“Your fiancé is injured, and you’re not going after him?”

Braeden had left the arena bleeding, and yet Juliana stood there in a daze. That had frustrated Count Barnett enough to rush over.

He was already worried that strange rumors might start to spread. People might say the Duke of Ortis and his fiancée were emotionally distant, or that Juliana Barnett was so cold she would not flinch even if her fiancé died right in front of her.

In a place packed with nobles, even the slightest misunderstanding could turn into a wildfire of gossip.

Before Juliana could respond, Count Barnett grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him.

“Come on. I will arrange a carriage. Go and check on the Duke. Stay by his side and care for him if you can.”

Count Barnett was deeply anxious. He had never imagined his daughter would be engaged to a man of such power, and now he feared that golden thread might snap.

Juliana looked at him with quiet, icy contempt.

“I will go,” she said simply, then stepped into the carriage.

Count Barnett, still caught up in his panic, failed to notice how cold and distant her attitude had become.

Once the carriage began moving, Juliana leaned back and released a long sigh.

Only then could she begin to think clearly.

Is he badly hurt? He said he would be fine, so maybe I should trust that. But how did he speak to me like that?

Her thoughts were a tangled mess as the carriage made its way to the Duke of Ortis’s townhouse.

At that moment, Braeden was also in a carriage heading toward the townhouse.

Lochlan sat across from him, frowning deeply before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“What were you thinking?”

This kind of behavior was something Lochlan had never seen from him before.

“I had a good idea,” Braeden replied with a grin.

His face and neck were still smeared with blood, and the smile only made him look more disturbing.

Lochlan did not want to know what that idea was, but he had no choice except to ask.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“I am tired of winning tournaments. I am tired of all the attention. If I am injured, I can stay at home, and Juliana can stay with me to take care of me.”

It was obvious that the last part was the main goal.

Lochlan stared at him, speechless, but Braeden continued.

“There are a lot of events I would have to attend after the tournament ends, but now I can skip them. I also need to keep Juliana safe. If she is at the townhouse, that becomes much easier.”

Lochlan could not help but wonder if that was the full truth. He listened but did not fully accept it.

His master had always wrapped his intentions in convenient excuses.

Now that I think about it, he has not talked about disappearing lately.

Could that be a good sign? Lochlan looked down, thinking, but when he saw blood trickling from Braeden’s wound again, he shouted without thinking.

“Stop moving. If you keep bleeding like that, a normal human would already be dead.”

“Really?”

Braeden tilted his head as if genuinely surprised. He thought this amount of blood was normal.

As a great demon, his wounds usually healed quickly. In fact, his body would already have healed if he had not been deliberately suppressing it.

He had already spilled blood in the arena to make the injury seem serious. That should have been enough, but he had continued to draw more.

By now, he looked like a man on the verge of death.

My head hurts. Lochlan groaned and pressed his fingers to his temple.

The carriage finally arrived at the townhouse. Servants had gathered outside after hearing that their master was injured.

When the door opened and Braeden appeared covered in blood, the women screamed.

“My lord!”

No one seemed to notice how well he was walking. Chaos broke out as everyone rushed to help.

When Juliana arrived, Braeden was already receiving treatment from the physician.

She was led to his bedroom. Pausing at the door, she took a deep breath before stepping inside.

The sharp smell of blood filled the room. In one corner, towels soaked in blood were piled high. Her heartbeat quickened.

“Braeden…”

She whispered his name as she approached the bed.

The physician had just finished tying the bandages and stepped back, wiping the sweat from his face.

“What is his condition? Is it serious?”

Juliana asked in a worried tone.

The physician answered calmly.

“He lost a lot of blood. I was worried he might lose consciousness, but he seems stronger than most. If he rests well and takes care of his wounds, he will recover quickly.”

Juliana let out a breath of relief.

The physician and servants finished cleaning up and left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

“You must have been scared.”

Braeden spoke in a low voice as he tried to sit up. Juliana quickly caught his arm and helped him lean back against the headboard.

“I was scared. But I am glad to see you like this.”

When he fell in the arena, it had felt like her heart stopped. But she hid that reaction well.

Her calm voice made Braeden raise an eyebrow and speak again.

“That does not mean I was not seriously hurt.”

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