As Asher had said earlier, there was another gathering happening above them. Unlike the Royal Birthday Party two years ago, where the upper floor only accepted Nobles of the Zarethorne Empire and no one else, this current upper floor not only accepted Nobles, but also merchants of considerable financial power and influence, as well as other powerhouses, whether they were Nobles or not.

At this moment, Azaron and Malrik could be seen standing together with expressionless faces. They barely said any words to any other person present, which was rather normal for Azaron, since the man wasn’t a lover of social events, as he would much rather be fighting or staying at the Ducal Estate, signing whatever papers his personal butler handed to him.

As for Malrik, while he was normally someone who talked and interacted with people, he only knew a few of those present at this moment.

Around them, many Noble Houses were discussing with one another, each of them building connections on the spot in order to strengthen their families one way or another. But the main topic of the night was the Inter-Empire Competition that had brought all of them together to begin with. Predictions regarding future champions, hidden talents, and the overall strength of the competing Empires were exchanged frequently among the influential figures gathered within the hall.

Asher’s name was whispered once in a while, his name leaving one mouth and entering various ears. How couldn’t he be popular here? Word had already spread that he was a failed Wargrave, the beginning of their decline. But although his name was spoken, nobody said it out loud, not the Dukes, nor the Empress, Overlord, and Emperors of other Empires, all because they didn’t want Malrik to glance in their direction and have any funny ideas.

But of course, a few people didn’t fear Malrik, like Overlord Cynthia. Although she didn’t fear him, she was wary. After all, with his ridiculous talent, nobody knew how much his power had grown again in the past year.

Azaron and Malrik heard everything that was said about Asher, but did either of them care? Certainly not.

Azaron wasn’t one to go around fighting people because they said one or two things about his children. To him, his children had to always defend themselves, unless an enemy they couldn’t handle stepped onto the board. As for Malrik, he simply didn’t make a move, as these people were definitely in for a surprise the day after tomorrow. He could only smile as he imagined the looks on their faces.

As Malrik and Azaron were enjoying the silence of not having to talk to anyone, a booming laugh erupted throughout the hall, drawing everyone’s attention.

Everyone’s eyes turned and fell upon a man who was walking forward with a huge smile on his face. His skin was black, his muscles bulging beneath his clothes as veins snaked across his body like living lava. The man stood over eight feet tall, his hair jet black and his eyes midnight black. He was obviously from the Velkarin Empire. His imposing frame alone was enough to draw attention, making him stand out even among the many powerful individuals present.

As he walked, people simply made way for him without interrupting his movement as he headed toward only one person ahead; Azaron.

The man came to a stop before Azaron, a wide smile on his face as he spoke, "It’s been a while, Azaron. Missed me?" his tone a bit loud.

Azaron’s usually expressionless face immediately turned into one of frustration as his golden eyes met the black ones staring at him. He didn’t bother replying. He simply shook his head as though he couldn’t be bothered, as though replying would merely make the man engage him in more conversations he didn’t want to have.

"Hoo!!! So this is your kid that has been making waves," the man said as he turned to Malrik, who had been standing beside Azaron, completely unbothered by the fact that Azaron had ignored him, as though he had expected it.

Malrik, seeing the attention fall on him, simply smiled as he spoke with an outstretched hand, "Malrik Wargrave," he introduced himself, since the man had approached them so boldly, Malrik had already arrived at the conclusion that the man was someone Azaron definitely knew very well.

The man shook Malrik’s hand as he stared at him with his black eyes. "Hoo!!! You are indeed as strong as the rumours made you out to be. We should spar sometime," the man replied with the same signature smile.

Malrik was silent for a moment. He had introduced himself, hoping the man would introduce himself as well, but he hadn’t.

Seeing Malrik’s expression, the man spoke in an apologetic tone, "My bad. I don’t remember the last time I introduced myself to anyone, as I’m pretty famous," he stated, not in an arrogant tone but a factual one. "You can think of me as your father’s best friend and ultimate rival. The name is Azazel Haellight."

Malrik remained silent. He had never heard of anyone named Azazel Haellight. Besides, his name also sounded somewhat similar to his father’s name. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Malrik’s eyes shifted toward Azaron, waiting for the man to comment. After all, despite knowing his father, Azaron had never designated anyone as a friend, let alone a best friend. The man had even gone ahead and established himself as Azaron’s ultimate rival, which only made Malrik more curious.

What left Malrik stunned was that Azaron never refuted any of Azazel’s claims.

Azaron, seeing the questions filling Malrik’s gaze, simply sighed and spoke, "You can leave. I will handle this and answer your questions later," his tone exasperated, as though he understood he couldn’t escape the situation.

Malrik nodded, then walked away without another word, leaving his father and his so-called best friend and rival to have a chat. The moment he left, Malrik was flocked by various women, and as the next in line to become the Duke, many women were trying their luck. It wasn’t even limited to that, as many of them simply wanted to sleep with him. After all, sleeping with a Wargrave was no different from earning a badge of honour at this point, and some had even come prepared to become pregnant that very night.

The prestige attached to the Wargrave bloodline was simply that absurd.

Fathers and mothers immediately sent their daughters to catch Malrik before another witch would snatch him away.

But of course, Malrik, ever the playboy, entertained the women. He knew their plans, he knew what they wanted, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t forcing himself on anyone, and as a man of great stamina, how could he possibly take only one woman back to his room? The very thought seemed ridiculous to him.

Wuthenya stood to the side. She stared at her brother and shook her head. She couldn’t understand why Malrik wouldn’t simply select one woman and settle down with her instead of sleeping with various women whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was a way of life she doubted she would ever truly understand.

She simply turned her eyes toward her boyfriend, Stravos, who was also in attendance, as he had followed the Wargrave family’s ride under Azaron’s permission. But of course, during the ride, he hadn’t dared to talk to anyone who wasn’t Wuthenya or Malrik, as he feared suddenly being killed for no reason. Remaining quiet and keeping to himself had seemed like the safest decision he could possibly make.