CHAPTER 261: THE PARTY [2]

Everyone stood up collectively as soon as they felt the auras of those people—it was a sign of respect for the main family. They were guided toward a table even closer to the stage.

Gabriel calmly observed each of them. In their midst were several arrogant heirs with their noses pointed toward the ceiling, along with a few mature old men and women, all formally dressed, walking with quiet confidence and smugness.

He quickly looked past them. His attention was drawn to a slim, gray-haired old man who looked as if even a breeze could blow him away. His eyes were deep and dark, and his expression carried the permanent weight of anger.

This was the head of the Graves family himself—Alfred Graves. The man who singlehandedly built the powerful conglomerate that thrived throughout the human continent.

If someone had told anyone that this frail, deathly-looking old man had built such a vast empire, they would have disagreed. In fact, they would’ve argued otherwise.

At the side, Damian glared at them, not even bothering to hide his hatred. When the main family finally took their seats, all the guests and branch family members followed suit.

The waiters and waitresses quickly scrambled to attend to everyone. They were elegant and composed, as though they had long grown used to events like this.

Naturally, Gabriel and Damian remained at their table. Even then, Damian’s gaze kept drifting toward the main family.

The party continued uninterrupted. Soft music filled the air, blending with the faint clinks of glasses and murmured conversations that rippled through the hall.

Gabriel noticed Damian’s discomfort but didn’t comment. He simply observed. This was an opportunity to study the higher circles of the Valerian Kingdom.

So far, everyone minded their own business. However, apart from the main table where the heirs and top family members sat, the one drawing the most attention was none other than Damian’s table.

There were two reasons for this. The first was Damian himself; as the black sheep of the Graves family, his appearance naturally drew attention from his distant relatives, who hadn’t expected him to show up.

The second reason was Gabriel. While the men shot him envious looks—aware that he was effortlessly stealing all the attention in the room—the women were completely entranced.

And the funny part? He wasn’t even using the passive charm skill he’d acquired from the Goblin General!

It was all his natural charm at work. Gabriel was blessed with good genes, but years of slaying monsters and using his talent—which granted him Fragments of Vitality with each use—had honed his physique and refined his already handsome features even further.

With such attention, it was impossible for those at the main family’s table not to notice them.

Some recognized Damian and frowned, disgust flashing in their eyes. Others masked their surprise. The older men maintained neutral expressions built over decades of political experience, while the younger heirs wore contempt plain on their faces.

However, the moment they noticed who sat beside Damian, they froze.

Their mocking expressions stiffened instantly as their eyes fell on the calm man next to him.

The faint golden lighting reflected off Gabriel’s face, outlining his sharp jawline and composed eyes. He didn’t seem to care about the atmosphere, nor did he appear out of place among nobles and elites. He simply sat quietly, sipping his drink with a steady, almost regal posture.

"Who’s that sitting beside him?"

"He’s not from the branch families. I’ve never seen anyone that handsome before," said a beautiful girl whose looks nearly rivaled Scarlet and Sophie’s. Her tone carried clear interest.

"He looks... dangerous."

"Wait, isn’t that Gabriel Reyes?" another voice said suddenly.

At that moment, the others took a closer look at him—and their eyes widened in shock and excitement.

Even the cocky, spoon-fed heirs recognized him immediately.

"The one the otherworlders call Sir Broken?" another whispered, her tone a mix of awe and fear.

"Yes. That one."

The entire table that had mocked Damian moments ago fell completely silent. Even the younger heirs who had sneered before exchanged uneasy glances.

They all knew that name.

The man who had wiped out hundreds during the event and humiliated a high cardinal of the Holy Church.

No one dared make eye contact anymore.

Meanwhile, the female heirs’ eyes lit up like stars. Their cold, noble expressions softened instantly, curiosity replacing arrogance.

"That’s really him..." one whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I’ve seen his fight clips. He’s as strong as the vice leaders of the top guilds!"

"Heavens, he looks even more handsome in person," another murmured, touching her lips unconsciously.

"Why is he sitting with Damian, though?" someone asked, brows furrowed. "They don’t even belong to the same circle."

The question spread like wildfire across the table.

It was true—Gabriel looked completely out of place beside the cast-out heir. He didn’t fit the picture. In this hall filled with pride and pomp, his calm presence felt like a contradiction.

One of the girls leaned forward slightly, her red gown brushing the table. "Maybe Damian hired him for protection."

"Or maybe he’s a friend of Damian’s."

"I refuse to believe that. There’s no way Damian would have connections with someone like him," said a short young man with curly hair, irritated by how much attention the women were giving to someone outside their noble circle.

Their soft voices blended into the music, but Gabriel, thanks to his heightened senses, caught every word. His hearing was sharp, yet he didn’t react. He just stared ahead with the same calm expression, as if none of it mattered.

It didn’t.

He lifted his wine glass and took a slow sip.

That single action alone made several women avert their gaze, trying not to stare too openly, their hearts pounding faster. He was too composed, too self-assured—it was unnerving. Even the men who prided themselves on being the center of attention suddenly felt invisible.

Damian, on the other hand, had managed to keep his composure. He was still observing everything, trying to figure out why he had even been called here in the first place.

At the main table, one of the older men leaned toward Alfred Graves and whispered something in his ear. The old man briefly glanced in Gabriel’s direction before turning away.

Right at that moment, one of the heirs stood up from the main table and began walking toward them.

"Here we go," Damian sighed.

***

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