Chapter 115: The Cunning and Clever Adalen

"Welcome, Grandfather."

Adalen approached with a faint smile on his lips. The heads of the noble families he had just been speaking with followed behind him.

The Singularity of Light returned the smile with a slight nod.

"How are you, Adalen? I hope you’re doing well," he said casually.

"I’m fine, Grandfather," Adalen replied politely. "And you? Doing well?"

The Singularity of Light chuckled, patted his shoulder, and said, "Do you really need to ask?"

They looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

The scene immediately drew everyone’s attention—including Nolan, Rafine, Orlan, and Rudy, as well as princes like Aldric, Cedric, Zarak, and Cassian, and Princess Elina.

Tsk! That bastard knows how to play,

Nolan muttered with a small chuckle, taking a sip of the orange juice he had just grabbed from the table.

He had to admit—his siblings weren’t fools, and that included Adalen.

Annoying as it was, Nolan still found himself admiring how well Adalen played the game.

Just a few days ago, Adalen, his mother, and Seira had visited the Holy Empire of Valtanir to see the Singularity of Light—his own grandfather.

And yet now, they were chatting as if they hadn’t met in ages.

Clearly, Adalen was putting on a show to shape how others perceived his relationship with the Singularity of Light.

He wanted everyone—especially the heads of noble families—to believe he shared a close, personal bond with his grandfather.

It was a calculated move to quash the rumors that their relationship was actually strained.

Well, it was understandable—after all, the Singularity of Light was the force behind the Holy Empire of Valtanir, and Adalen was Ragan’s son.

No wonder rumors about their strained relationship had spread through various circles—and continued to grow over time.

Still, the act proved surprisingly effective.

In full view of everyone, several heads of noble families—ranging from Barons and Viscounts to Counts—began approaching Adalen and the Singularity of Light.

They greeted the Singularity politely and invited him to join them for a drink.

Annoyingly, the golden-haired man didn’t decline. On the contrary, he seemed pleased and welcomed them with grace.

Although it was unclear whether these nobles truly supported Adalen, the scene alone was enough to sway the undecided and make them reconsider where to place their trust.

Aldric and Cedric observed the exchange with caution.

Nonetheless, they remained calm, seemingly unfazed by the scene.

Like Adalen, they too relied on powerful backers and had drawn many noble families to their side.

So when Adalen pulled a similar move, they weren’t rattled. After all, it was still within the rules of the game.

Of course, they couldn’t afford to take it lightly. They would need to play their own cards tonight—so Adalen wouldn’t be the only one stealing the spotlight.

Elina felt the same. In her eyes, Adalen’s methods were fair—and couldn’t be considered a violation of any rule.

Still, she knew she couldn’t just stand by and watch. She turned to Orlan, Rudy, and the nearby heads of noble families, then smoothly resumed the conversation.

The nobles, who had been briefly distracted by the appearance of the Singularity of Light, gradually shifted their attention back to Elina and became reengaged in the discussion.

Aldric, Cedric, and Cassian did the same. Unfortunately, only Zarak failed to retain the nobles who had previously gathered around him.

"Sorry, Prince. I wanted to greet the Singularity of Light first."

"Me too, Prince. I hope you understand."

"And me, Prince—but my priority is Princess Elina."

One by one, they left him—until only those who had already declared their support remained.

Zarak’s expression darkened. His narrowed eyes gleamed with hatred.

Bastards...

he cursed under his breath, fists clenched tight.

Those still standing near him exchanged awkward glances, offering wry smiles.

They couldn’t blame the nobles for their choices—after all, their actions were perfectly reasonable.

In truth, Zarak lacked social skills—let alone the ability to handle conversations with the heads of noble families.

Every interaction with him carried an air of discomfort and stiffness, something even the nobles could clearly feel.

Had it not been for his grandfather’s backing, none of them would have sided with him.

They would have favored stronger candidates like Aldric, Cedric, Adalen—or even... Elina.

Unfortunately, it was too late. They had already accepted the benefits from the Red Obsidian Trading House and handed over their family tokens as proof of support to Zarak.

"Pfft!" Nolan couldn’t help but smile as he watched Zarak’s face darken. "That fat bastard is really pathetic. In this succession, he’ll probably be the first to fall... or even die."

A cold glint flickered in his eyes as he took a sip from his glass.

"Die? Who? Prince Zarak?" Rafine’s playful voice chimed in from the side. "Your Highness, that’s awfully cruel of you."

Nolan’s smile faltered for a moment. The corners of his lips twitched as he realized the woman was already standing beside him, watching him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Huh..." He let out a long breath and stepped away. "What are you doing here? Can’t you stay away from me? Honestly, it’s annoying."

Rafine frowned, clearly displeased. She took a step forward, but Nolan moved further back, keeping his distance without giving her an inch.

It stirred something inside her. For the first time in her life, a man was pulling away—keeping his distance—and it bruised her pride.

We’ll see... I’ll make you fall in love and kneel before me,

she muttered under her breath, clenching both fists, her eyes blazing with determination.

To her, all men were the same—they always thought with what was between their legs.

And that was precisely why Rafine felt certain she could make Nolan fall, just like all the others who had been hooked from the very first glance.

Had Nolan known what was going through her head, he likely would’ve chuckled and said,

"Dream on, little girl. Even with a hundred years, you wouldn’t stand a chance."

Although his age wasn’t much different from Rafine’s, Nolan’s actual age was forty-six.

To him, whether they were princes, princesses, young lords, or noble ladies, they were all just kids who had only recently started growing hair.

Just as the party was beginning to liven up again, Roswell stepped forward and called out, "Alright, everyone! May I have your attention for a moment?"

The chatter and laughter instantly ceased. All eyes turned to him.

"Thank you all for coming. I hope you’re enjoying the party," Roswell said politely, a faint smile on his lips. "Since today is a special day for His Majesty, the ball will now begin. For those without a partner, please feel free to invite someone else who is also unaccompanied."

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell silent for a beat—then erupted into cheers and excitement.

For the young nobles, this was the moment they had been waiting for.

Only Nolan looked completely uninterested.

Hah... What a joke. I’m way too lazy to get dragged into some stupid dance,

he muttered, sighing.