CHAPTER 262: THE PARTY [3]

Both Damian and Gabriel sensed someone approaching; however, they remained oblivious, focusing on the drinks before them.

"Cousin," the person called out in a mocking tone. "What a... surprise."

"Cedric." Damian took a sip of his drink and raised his head to meet him. "Still trying to look taller with those heels?"

Cedric’s face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. However, his noble training kicked in at the right time, and he managed to hide it behind a smile.

"Well, not everyone was blessed with height like the family head’s mistress," he said cockily.

Damian’s movement froze, and a vein throbbed at his temple.

Mistress... that was what they referred to his mother as. Even though she had once been the head’s wife, Cedric knew it was the easiest way to get under his skin—that was exactly why he used the term.

Similarly to Cedric, Damian also had his fair share of training and ethics. He didn’t allow the jab to trigger him.

He looked up and smiled. "Well, you’ll have to admit she was quite the beauty. You wouldn’t deny that, would you? If she weren’t, the head wouldn’t have gone out of his way to chase her."

’Bastard.’ Cedric cursed silently in his heart. He was tongue-tied because it was true—Damian’s mother had been one of the most beautiful women in the entire Graves family.

She had been a model at the time for a popular brand. According to family records, she was said to be the one who had chased the head and seduced him.

However, Damian knew that was a lie. The story had been twisted to make the family head look honorable while tarnishing his mother’s image even further.

"Well, it appears cousin doesn’t have anything else to say. Since you don’t, you can run along and join the others." Damian waved him off, then proceeded to ignore his existence as if he weren’t even standing there.

This... this made Cedric extremely angry. He wanted to punch Damian’s face into a pulp. To think the bastard son of the Graves family would still have the audacity to talk down to me—and then ignore me, the recognized heir!

Gabriel calmly observed the scene and couldn’t help but shake his head. He muttered under his breath, "Young master syndrome... this cliché again."

It might have seemed cliché to him because of the countless shows and novels he’d read in his spare time, but the reality was that scenes like this happened more often than people realized.

Meanwhile, Cedric exhaled softly, trying to breathe out all his pent-up anger.

"I was actually here for a reason," he said, shifting his attention toward Gabriel.

Damian’s eyes flashed, already seeing through his cousin’s antics. He chose not to comment and instead watched everything unfold.

"H-hi... my name is Cedric Graves." He introduced himself, stretching out a hand for Gabriel to take.

Gabriel didn’t even acknowledge his presence. In fact, he hadn’t spared him a single glance all this while, as if the man’s very existence was beneath his notice.

Why was that?

When looking at Cedric, Gabriel could easily tell he was a weakling through and through—and he didn’t look like someone who wanted to get stronger.

And if you’d been following Gabriel for a while, you’d know he despised the weak.

Cedric frowned; his face turned red with embarrassment, but he still tried to keep a smile on his face. He retracted his hand awkwardly and scratched his head with a nervous laugh.

Subconsciously, he glanced around, hoping no one had seen what happened—but to his dismay, everyone had. They were whispering among themselves.

’Shit! Shit! Shit!’ he cursed inwardly. In a desperate attempt to salvage his image, he quickly came up with something to say.

"It appears Sir Gabriel doesn’t like handshakes," he said wryly, then added, "I’m a huge fan of yours... I watched what you did during the Inter-Guild Display Event—how you dominated everyone. It’s such an honor to finally meet you."

"What’s my fighting style? How would you describe it?" Gabriel suddenly asked.

"Eh?" Cedric paused, scratching his head with an awkward expression.

Gabriel’s impression of Cedric was spot-on—he was the typical rich kid who only cared about cars, clubbing, and women. He’d only heard of Gabriel today through his relatives.

After realizing Gabriel was a big deal and extremely popular, he decided to approach him to build a connection.

Furthermore, it didn’t sit well with him to see someone of Gabriel’s caliber hanging out with Damian.

"Well... your fighting style is a bit complex," he said uncertainly.

Seeing no reaction from Gabriel, he glanced at the man’s slim yet well-proportioned build and spoke with more confidence. "You move fast and elegantly and destroy your opponents before they even realize it."

When he said that, Damian couldn’t help but shake his head. "This fool... he just described the opposite."

Gabriel’s eyes finally lifted. His gaze met Cedric’s—and for the first time, the young heir felt something crawl down his spine. The room, despite being filled with laughter and music, suddenly felt suffocatingly quiet.

"Elegant, huh?" Gabriel muttered flatly.

Cedric smiled nervously, mistaking his silence for consideration. "Y-yeah, I mean, you’re very refined in your movements. It’s like watching a dance, really."

Damian nearly choked on his drink. "A dance? Oh, you poor soul."

He understood why Cedric had come to that conclusion—it was because of Gabriel’s frame. At a glance, anyone would assume he was a mage. No one would think he was a brute on the battlefield.

Before Cedric could react, Gabriel leaned back in his chair, tilting his glass lazily.

"So that’s what they call it now," he murmured. "Tell me, have you ever seen a brute fight?"

Cedric blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... no, not really. I mean, those are just wild men from the frontier, right? The kind that fight without strategy or—"

"Correct." Gabriel nodded, swirling his glass. "When you fight with your mind, you hesitate. When you fight with rage—pure, controlled rage—your body takes over. That’s how I fight."

Damian smirked and crossed his arms. "You should probably stop now, cousin. Stop embarrassing yourself."

"You said you were a fan, right?" Gabriel continued, his voice calm but cutting. "Then you should know I’m anything but elegant. I’m efficient. I break bones. I crush ribs. I tear through anything that stands in my way."

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Does that sound like dancing to you?"

"N-no... of course not."

"Good." Gabriel turned away, picking up another drink like nothing had happened. "Next time, think before you talk."