In the veil of midnight, in the Kingdom of Aestruserra's King's Banquet Hall, a crowd of Noblemen and Noblewomen gathered before three people of higher standing.

With two people on one side ganging against him, Pratchett Olmeca Asteros did not mind about the inconsistency and instead eager to listen to the words of the princess along with a handsome man standing on the opposite side of him.

"Pratchett Olmeca Asteros!" The princess, Abigail Avsaris Aestruserra, bellowed with great hostility. She took out a fan out of her bosom and pointed it into the face of Pratchett with a smirk. "I am here to announce to you the annulment of our Engagement!"

The crowd around them began to stir up as they speak blatantly about their opinions. Pratchett could hear them very clearly, and from their words alone, it wasn't pleasing to be heard. It was full of vile, disgusting words that show the true colors of these 'seemingly elegant' Noblemen and Noblewomen.

And the worst of them all, it was all directed towards him.

His mind is still in awe after hearing the words of his princess, therefore muddling his judgment and preventing him from voicing out his opinions clearly.

He could only say a few words.

And that is.

"... Abigail, what are you saying-"

"Stop! Don't call me by my name, you filthy scum!" Abigail angrily retorted, she opened her fan and tapped the boy beside her while batting an eye on Pratchett. "You see, dogshit, this handsome man beside me is a prince of an EXISTING empire! You don't even compare to him right now with your current status as the Prince of Astershit!"

"Pfft... Astershit, that's funny."

"You meant Asteros? Hahaha, does that even exist nowadays?"

"Was that a Kingdom? I couldn't remember such a disgraceful name."

"Hussle down now, it's not even worth mentioning!"

The crowd began to stir up even further, showering Pratchett with a constant stream of insults and bickering of his lineage one after another without a care for his person.

"My, my. I am very much flattered by your highness' words." The man beside Abigail said as he took her vacant hand and kissed it softly.

"Look at them! A perfect couple, I say!"

"Aaa~ I see the future of Her Highness. It's very bright!"

"Better than Astershit, I would say."

Pratchett was left dumbfounded with these people's abhorrent personalities. It was far from the 'Elegant' and 'Respectful' images of the Aestruserra Nobles he saw four years ago.

He could only grit his teeth and lower his gaze onto the floor as he received their insults.

After all, he would be free after this banquet. The King promised him to leave the Aestruserra forever if he attends.

He no longer had the power of status within him to protect himself from slander after he rendered into a mere commoner who claims to be a surviving prince from a fallen country.

They only treated him with utter respect until the news of his Father's Kingdom falling into demise three years ago from relentless demon assaults, moreover the siege didn't even last a single night for the Kingdom of Asteros. The defeat was swift and fatal, leaving the Esteemed King Asteros to use their trump card - a Legendary Magic Sequence - which is exclusive only to the Royal Family.

And the fact that the Asteros' Legendary Magic Sequence is the only sole surviving Legendary Magic Sequence in the entire Legendary Rank makes it even more exclusive, bringing the Royal Family of Asteros even more fame and riches.

Those reasons alone were the cause of Abigail Avsaris Aestruserra's appearance in his life. The matter of being his fiance to acquire the greatest treasure in the entire world.

Though he did not have a chance to learn it from his Father and Mother as he lacked knowledge about Magic and talent for it, the sole reason for his existence in the Magic Academy of Kingdom of Aestruserra was to learn Magic and improve his aptitude to handle the Royalty card much effectively.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

But Pratchett was born with a low Magical aptitude on all Elements. He did not inherit the Skills that his Father was born with nor the Spirit Magic his Mother had. It is not far-fetched to say he is the evilest son in the entire prestigious lineage of Asteros Royal Family.

That's why the Family of Asteros only hoped he could make amends with hard work in the Aestruserra Magic Academy instead of being locked up in the tower for not possessing both of his parent's inborn Skills. They hoped he'll become a Mage capable enough to ascend into the throne of Asteros.

But for the past four years, he did not improve the slightest bit, nor his Magic Skills advance from the lowest.

"You hear me now, Pratchett?" Abigail spoke up as soon as the crowd receded their slander. She took out a piece of paper from the sleeves of her elegant rose dress and faced it against Pratchett with utmost confidence. "Esteemed Father, the King of Aestruserra, had given all of his permission to abdicate you of the position of being my future husband!"

"And in the now empty position, Prince Larster Walgony of the Queendom of Walgony shall supersede you!"

"Oooh!" The crowd threw cheers and praised Abigail for her 'outstanding' words and choices. Showering her of flattery and applause, making her posture even more confident and daring.

"Don't worry, shitface." Prince Larster said as he approached Pratchett. With a rough curtsy, Prince Larster gave out a shit-eating smirk as he continued his words. "I will taaake care of your highness better than you treat her. I'll make sure to treat her to the most luxurious restaurants, entertain her with jesters, and hire talented Bards to make her life even more pleasing than being with a shithole like you."

"I'll make sure she forgets all the memories of being with you, fast and easy."

Pratchett did not give a reply. He gritted his teeth even more and curled his fists into a ball. His grip became tighter and tighter until his palms reddened.

He had lost his logical reasoning at this point, the amount of slander and insults towards his Family who fought till the end was escalating into excessive amounts.

He only made an illogical rash decision.

The decision that made him give in to his demons.

"SHUT UP YOU DAMNED FUCKFACE!"

With his fists curled up into a ball, He threw it straight into the face of Larster with all of his might. The wind whistled crisp as it approached Larster at the speed of which Commoners couldn't even catch up-

*WOOOOOOSH!!!*

"Have he gone out of his mind!?"

"To think his answer to the benevolent prince's words is a physical assault! Such disrespectful behavior!"

"Oh my god, call the guards. Some weird Commoner is throwing fit in our feast!"

*THUCK*

Though Pratchett's fist did not reach Larster's face nor Pratchett felt the pleasure of throwing Larster's posture upside down. He only felt one finger poking into his fist.

Pratchett's bloodshot eyes widened upon the sight of Larster stopping his full-might punch with just only one finger, Pratchett couldn't press his fist even further than the finger nor break it, even with all of his weight pressed onto his fist, he did not budge.

He looked like a helpless rabbit trying to bare its fangs towards a wolf.

"You see how our leagues differ from one another, commoner trash?" Larster said with a smile. "You aren't even worth raising two fingers, let alone be stopped by my hands."

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Pratchett screamed on top of his lungs as he threw another punch at Larster.

*THUCK! THUCK! THUCK!* The sound of Larster consecutively catching Pratchett's fists resounded as the crowd watches in awe. The power gap between the two is heaven and earth apart yet Pratchett kept throwing punches without a care for his face.

"Are you taking these punches seriously? I don't feel harmed in the slightest bit." Larster yawned after he caught another one of Pratchett's jab.

"I am just ashamed. To think this man used to be my fiance. I'll die of disgust..." Abigail said in a manner of contempt as she fanned her elaborately designed fan. She did not bat an eye onto Pratchett and instead kept stealing glances at Larster's handsome face.

Pratchett's consecutive punches slowed down after his tenth jab. His lungs heaved slowly, and his limbs trembled from exhaustion. It was clear Pratchett used all of his strength, including his Mana to empower each of his strikes.

Yet out of his ten strikes, Pratchett hasn't touched Larster other than his fingertips.

"Are you done yet?" Larster said while trying to keep his laughs inside. "Perhaps would you like to be enlightened what True Power really looks like?"

"Go show him Power, Larster!!"

"Kyaaa~ Larster is so powerful! Enlighten us!"

"Show that scum who's the boss!"

Pratchett did not mind the crowd as he swiped his forehead out of sweat. He looked into Larster's face sternly with utter hostility and rage, as if marking him to be his next assassination target, Larster did not concede, and instead swept his hair upwards as he chants Fourth-grade Fireball magic.

"Let me show you, what a punch really feels like!"

With the completion of the Fireball Magic, Larster did not hurl it into Prachett's face but instead, swung it along with his punch. Pratchett, however, did not dare to dodge and raised both of his arms in an attempt to defend against Larster's blow.

His pride wouldn't allow him to dodge the punch.

He only wanted to prove the people around him that he is capable of defending against Larster's strike.

*WOOOOSH!!!!!!* With a crisp sound of the wind splitting apart, Larster's fist moved faster than what eyes could perceive, sweeping through Pratchett's defense and breaking both of his arm's bones and his cheekbone in the process. The impact left Pratchett unconsciousness and heavily wounded, yet Larster did not stop and continued his attack.

"Now, let's get rid of your ugly face. I hope by doing this, I will be saving the world of your abhorrent lineage!" Larster evilly grinned as he grabbed Pratchett's head and neared the Fireball Sequence into his face.

"Explode into a blazing rose, Fireball!"

BOOOOOM!!!