Chapter 1: No to Holy Matrimony!

A boring endless cycle.

Four words to describe the monotony of the Twenty-third Prince of Apheriam’s life. Although, some would relish the excitement of daily assassination attempts, endless paperwork, and a plethora of adoring sycophants, this type of life wasn't one that Victor Fierce particularly enjoyed.

“Lord Twenty-Third… Lord Twenty-Third? Young Twenty-Third!”

But it at least afforded him luxuries such as video games and first access to unreleased video games.

“Go. Away!” Victor spat as he played his game deck beneath the covers of his bed. “I'm busy! Very busy!”

“Lord Twenty-Third! I'm entering!” the maid shouted, the ornate door of ancient wood that sealed the room opening a moment later. 

Sunlight tore away the shadows that coated the architecture of white and marble, the curtains pulled back by the team of maids flooding the space.

“Ugggh,” Victor let out, doing his best to ignore the footsteps of a dozen maids as he focused on the dialogue of the furry girl on his handheld screen.

“Lord Twenty-Third! By order of his Holiness the Emperor, you must rise this instant!” 

Suddenly, the custom blankets with a tankui printed demi-human on its sheet was ripped away, exposing Victor to the crowd with the aggressive act finally stirring the young man into motion.

Disheveled, the blonde-haired twenty-year-old princeling growled, his sleep-deprived eyes still focused on his video game.

“Victor.” 

At the sound of his first name spoken with such authority, the princeling finally looked away from his screen.

“Matilda… ” Victor hissed as his gamedeck was suddenly incinerated by Matilda's magic. “Hey! Heyheyhey!Do you know how expensive that was?! How many hours I put in to get S-rank affinity with Lisa?!”

“Lord Twenty-Third, the emperor has personally admonished your perversion.” The middle-aged brunette rebuked, the only one out of the dozen of servants that serviced him to dare speak to a prince in her tone.

But that was why she was charged with keeping tabs on the *Furry Prince*. A derogatory term, one spoken in secret and hushed tones to describe the Twenty-third Prince of Apheriam.

“Per his royal decree, all degenerate, heretical, and unsanctioned material will be disposed of.” Matilda stated as the servants nearby began to loot his room of his figurines, trading cards, and golem models. “That includes your privileges.”

“What? No! You can't do this! Those are precious research materials!” Victor shouted, leaping from the bed to attempt to wrestle a special edition Monster Girl Mercenaries game guide away from a now-startled maid. “Unhand this at once! This is a limited edition single published article worth a palace! I've spent hours bookmarking-”

“Praetorians!” Matilda shouted, summoning two heavily plated knights in black and gold into Victor's bed chamber. Royal Praetorians, men in direct service to the emperor that shoved Victor back and denied the prince his property. “Now. Get dressed. Your bride is waiting.”

Victor's face scrunched, flinching as Matilda opened the dual doors of the terrace window that unleashed a chorus of applause and cheering from a city in celebration.

The young prince turned, flopping down on his bed with a groan and several incoherent mumbles as the maids began to dispose of his hand-carved figurines.

“I've told you repeatedly my Lord, that no one can understand you when you behave like a child,” Matilda said as she laid out a suit of ivory white fabric at the edge of Victor's bed. “You're twenty, not four.”

“And as I've repeatedly said, if it doesn't have fur, scales, or a tail, I'm not interested!” Victor shouted, much to the blatant shock and horror of several servants.

“Heresy!” one maid quipped, covering her mouth to mask the disturbance of Victor's words.

“Leave us,” Matilda ordered with the servants quickly fleeing as the royal guards barred the door. “Lord Twenty-Third. Your wishes are irrelevant in the matter. What matters is the word of the Golden Throne. You will be dressed. You will be presentable. And you will be married within the hour. This, your father has decreed. And to defy our Holy Emperor's will is to deny the will of humanity. Sir Gorand and Chayse are here to assure your compliance.”

The two guardsmen stepped forward, the clink of their armor denoting the seriousness of the situation.

“Fine, whatever.” Victor scowled, face warping as the maids were allowed back in once more; this time with makeup, brushes, and every beauty product the empire could muster for this momentous day in imperial history.

Reluctantly, Victor allowed the maids to go about their business as they stripped him of his velvety pajamas, brushed his long gold hair, washed his face, and dressed him in the garments of a man about to be married off.

When they were done, Victor eyed himself in the mirror crusted with gemstones worth a lifetime of a peasants net worth. 

At five feet eight, one twenty pounds, broad shoulders, and chiseled features of a nobility, Victor was the epitome of everything a prince of the empire should be. Albeit… a bit short.

Skilled with blade and magic alike, successful in dungeon raids, great with mech piloting, and of high stat birth, on paper Victor was a high contender for the throne despite being only a twenty-third prince.

Yet one defect held him back from any claims as he noticed a maid with iridescent green scales dotting her neck.

Victor didn't like human women. 

They were bland, one-dimensional, and didn't possess any unique traits that demi-humans possessed. Demi-humans on the other hand came in various colors, different textures, some had furs, others scales, wings, horns, and even tails!

Who the hell wanted to settle for an average human when there was a buffet of species to indulge in?! Thousands of uncharted lands to explore with different biomes, habitats, and cultures?!

Pervert. 

That was what Victor was called. But they didn't understand that his attention went far beyond desire–No! It was intellectual! Artistic! Beauty in the strange and obtuse that humanity shunned.

Could a human naturally fly? No! Could a human naturally breathe underwater? No!

Instead of using the talents of other species, the imperium either shackled demi-humans or treated them as second-class citizens with no rights of their own!

And why?

Because they lost their country? Because they had less stats than humans? Because they failed to beat back the foulspawn invasions of their homes and fled to the imperium for aid?

These weren't justifications for oppression and enslavement. These were delusions of racists who couldn’t see the potential of beings with useful skills! Aerial brigade of harpies, skeleton workers summoned by jiangshi, water nymphs that could stop forest fires and save villages from out of control flames!

Endless possibilities! Not just from an intellectual standpoint but of practical use as well! As a connoisseur of cultured content Victor had seen their worth first hand.

At least this was how the young prince saw it as he exhaled, the weight of the crown placed upon his head heavy like iron-wrought armor.

And they want to saddle me with some meaningless marriage?! What the hell is the point of this if there are twenty other princes?!

He grit his teeth, grinding his molars together as his face contorted at his reflection wrapped in white and gold that mirrored his surroundings.

“You look marvelous, Young Master,” Matilda said, yet her words rang hollow to Victor’s ears. She clapped her hands, the retinue of beauticians and maids promptly exiting the chamber to leave Victor and Matilda alone. 

The stern maid’s expression softened, hazel eyes sighing. “Please… please Victor, don't make a scene.”

Then the door closed, the servants gone, all that remained in the chamber of ivory being Victor and the clamor of thousands of strangers that echoed through the ugly architecture.

Victor waited a moment until he was sure the maids were gone before removing the sheet on his bed to reveal a circular glass object that contained his ultimate failsafe.

A skill gem labeled Teleport.

Rare and expensive, skill gems were worthless to the everyday person but priceless to system users. With them, one could learn a litany of skills that would take a normal person years or even a lifetime to master.

“Don't worry Matilda, I won't be around to cause a scene,” Victor's mouth twisted into a smirk as he picked up the skill gem and opened his system interface-a perk that only certain members of humanity possessed.

A perk that gave their species dominion over others.

 

[System User: Victor Fierce]

[Species: Human]

[Title: Twenty-Third Prince of Apheriam (+300% to all stats.)]

[Level: 35]

[Class: Arch-Healer]

-HP: 750/750

-MP: 800/800

-Stamina: 500/500

 

-VIG: 35

-END: 25

-STR: 40

-DEX: 40

-INT: 55

-WIS: 23

 

[PRIMARY SKILLS] 9/10

-HOLY SWORD: GUILLOTINE LvL: 2

-EQUALIBRIUM: LvL: MAX

-CREATE WATER: LvL: 2

-SHARPEN TOOL: LvL 5

-MAGIC HAND: LVL: MAX

-CURA: LvL: MAX

-DIAGNOSE: LvL 8

-MASS MEND WOUNDS: LvL 3

-CURING HANDS: LvL 6

-NONE

*****

[TERTIARY TRAITS]

-Infused with Holy Blood.

-Blessed by The Emperor.

-EXP Gain+

-Deft With Hands.

-Skilled One Bladed LvL 3

-Conditioned Endurance LvL 3

-Weapon Mastery LvL 1

-Craftsmanship LvL 3

 

*****

 

“Delete my skill will you old man?” Victor snickered, shaking his head with a devious smile as he crushed the expensive item in his palm.

[Ability Engram detected!]

[Would you like to learn skill, Teleport?]

[Y/N?]

 

“Yes.” Victor said before his last ability slot was taken by the new skill.

Immediately Victor activated teleport, his body shimmering in place as he smiled and waited to be whisked away from his-

“Nice try Lord Twenty-Third.”

“Huh?” Victor blinked, his body solidifying in place as Matilda opened his bedroom door.

“Lord Emperor believed you would try another underhanded trick. Teleportation and other movement based skills have been nullified,” Matilda explained as multiple Royal Praetorians entered the bedchamber. “Now please, come along, Lady Valeria awaits you. Your retinue will escort you to ensure no inconvenience besmirches your journey.”

Victor gnashed his teeth together, holding back his annoyance as two guards shoved him forward.

“My retinue, yeah… right,” Victor replied as he begrudgingly stepped into the opulent halls of the imperial palace.

Hush fell over the congregation, not a sound spoken other than the clink of metal on metal and armored boots with Victor shuffling forward like a prisoner on death row.

Come to think of it, there really isn't that much difference between this and a capital execution. Victor mused as his escorts paraded him through a hallway lined with servants.

Victor clenched his jaw, ignoring the collars on some of the servants, before his escorts stopped at the last obstacle between him and his bachelor life.

“Lord Twenty-Third,” Matilda said as two guards opened the twin doors of solid gold to a chorus of guests awaiting a groom. “I wish you luck on your marriage.”

“Gee, thanks.” Victor dry swallowed, a thousand eyes within the chapel turning towards him.

But it wasn't the gaze of the strangers that unsettled Victor, but the crimson glare of the bearded man swathed in gold on his marble throne that oversaw the congregation.

Orlo Fierce: The Planet Breaker, God Emperor, Blade of Humanity, Other Worlder, The Strongest Human and Victor’s father. A man who was over a thousand years old yet still as spry as he was in his youth. 

The man, with his large white beard, sat unmoving in his flowing robes of gold, yet still, Victor could feel his burning gaze upon him as he treaded on the red carpet that welcomed him to his destiny.

Destiny. 

Ironically, the name of the bride-to-be. A noble scion described as the most beautiful silver-haired flower of mankind.

But Victor had heard this description used twenty times prior from the weddings of his other siblings. All of whom were strangers married off to women, unfortunate to draw the ire of the emperor.

Eyeing the woman in her ivory dress, Victor couldn't deny that Destiny Valeria had perfect symmetry. A body akin to an hourglass that would no doubt provide many noble scions. 

But, as Victor stood at the altar with his bride’s eyes hidden beneath her wedding veil, he had no love for this woman. No interest in her humanity and certainly no interest in making her his forced companion.

“Greetings! Citizens of the Imperium! Loyal Subjects of Apheriam! Dearly beloved!” the priest proclaimed, the old bishop raising his wrinkly hands up in jubilation before he began to let out his marriage spiel.

This is just… For the good of the empire. For the good of the empire just bear with it. At least, that's what Victor told himself.

Then again, why the hell should he care about an empire he'd never be king of? Why should he care about the opinions of strangers who had expectations he never wanted?

Victor clenched his teeth, doing his best to not make a fool of himself as Destiny lifted her head to face her soon-to-be husband with tears in her eyes.

In that moment, Victor's expression scrunched, his composure falling away for a fraction of a moment.

“See! Look upon the joyous tears that streamed down our new Queen-Contendant’s face!” the bishop proclaimed, raising the fervor in his voice.

Yet what Victor saw wasn't tears of joy, but of fear and sadness as her sapphire eyes cried.

She didn't want to be married. That much was clear to Victor. Was she being coerced? Forced? A slave to a higher power as well?

Victor and Destiny made eye contact.

“Upon the gaze of our Lord Emperor, do you, Lady Destiny Illead Von Valeria, take Lord Victor Forgel De’elllucka Firenze Fierce to be your husband?” the bishop asked with Destiny stifling the sob that nearly escaped her lips.

“I do. By the Emperor's will and eyes, by the will of the Empire and all humanity, I proclaim I do.” Destiny said, bowing her head before the bishop turned to Victor and repeated his question.

Victor didn't respond immediately as he observed the various magi-lens’ capturing and broadcasting his image to the entire Imperium.

“I do.” Victor muttered.

“Then if anyone should provide a reason as to why these two should not be bound in holy matrimony in the eyes of our emperor! State your objections now!” the bishop demanded of the hushed crowd of nobiles and guest.

But who would dare speak in the presence of the god emperor?

Victor eyed Destiny, a heat blossoming in his chest as he found renewed resolve.

“Then let these two be wed-”

“I object.”

“-in the eyes of h-huh?” the bishop stuttered and paused, head slowly turning towards Victor as Destiny stared at her groom with wide eyes.

“I OBJECT!” Victor shouted, turning to face the crowd that gasped in shock and horror.

“I-wha? L-l-lord Twenty-Third?!” the bishop exclaimed, reaching out to stop the prince only for his hands to be batted away by Victor's own.

Now or never. Now or never! Victor said to himself, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears.

“I object to this marriage!” Victor stated again, this time turning to his father who sat dispassionately upon his throne.

“And your reason?” the emperor spoke, his voice low yet heard by every subject in his domain. 

“You know why!” Victor pointed at the emperor, his action causing a wave of gasps to echo through the chapel. “She is a human woman! And I will not wed a human when demi-human women exist!” 

“HERESY!” the bishop let out before realizing who exactly he was declaring a heretic.

Victor spun, walking towards the crowd, eyes brimming with the madness of passion.

“They're boring! Bland! Vanilla! Why settle for a boring human when reptilians, furries, spirits, and featherlings exist?!” Victor shouted, causing several congregants to outright faint. “I am Victor Fierce! And I will no longer-”

“Enough.”

The chapel shook, Victor's words dying in his throat at the proclamation from his father.

“No!” Victor shouted, somehow mustering up the will to defy the deity’s orders, “I will no longer pretend that I am satisfied with this life! That I am satisfied with a marriage with no love! This farce!” Victor gestured to the altar, “Is another symptom of our regime! But I have walked in the shadows of our empire. I have seen the harm our rule has done. I, Victor Fierce, reject the ideology of the Imperium! Reject this marriage! And most importantly! Reject your doctrine! I will no longer be a patsy and will speak my resolve boldly! I love demi-humans!”

A stillness. A cold, quiet calm spread throughout the chapel only to be interrupted by a gasp as the Emperor rose.

“You reject me?” Orlo said, stepping forward to walk upon the air and continue to look down on his subjects. “You, who have been given the finest education by the finest imperial scholars. Trained by the greatest system users. Nurtured, fed, clothed by the hands of the imperium’s citizens-”

Those in attendance bowed, even Destiny kow-towed to the mighty liege of mankind.

“-Everything that you are. Blood of my blood. Twenty-third of my lineage. You reject me Child?”

Victor dry swallowed, his knee quaking, screaming out to him to bend. Yet he held firm before the crimson eyes that bore down upon him.

“Yes.” Victor whimpered as his father stood before him and casually straightened the tie that felt more akin to a noose around the young prince’s neck.

The corners of Orlo’s eyes twitched, a faint movement, one that would have gone unnoticed if not for the fact Victor was staring directly at the god made manifest.

Pride? Annoyance? Disappointment? Victor didn't know, but it was far more emotion than he'd ever gotten from the man in his twenty-plus years of existence.

“Then so be it. I have indulged your discrepancies for far too long.”

 

[Title Lost!]

[Blessing Lost!]

Victor winced, stepping back, a wave of immediate fatigue taking root in his body as two notifications filled his vision.

“I-what?” Victor muttered, grasping his chest, his body racked with pain under the red glow of indifferent eyes.

[Level Loss! -199!]

[Class Reset!]

[Skill Deleted!]

“Father! S-stop! Stop!” Victor pleaded as his chest heaved with the agony of his soul being torn apart.

“If you would reject me, it seems adequate that one should no longer merit the benefits of my favor.” Orlo stated, his firm voice seeming to reach into Victor's chest and pull at his very core.

[Skill Deleted!]

[Skill Deleted!]

[Skill Deleted!]

[Skill Deleted!]

[Skill Deleted!]

[Skill Deleted!]

 

“Wait!” Victor hissed, struggling to look up as his stats were cut in half, his skills removed, title stripped. In his father’s hands, Victor could see a cloud of ones and zeros, the data that made up his experiences.

“Let it be known. On this day! That Victor Forgel De’elllucka Firenze Fierce has been stripped of his position as a Prince of Apheriam and marked as a Heretic against mankind! No longer shall he bask in the radiance of the Throne. Praetorians! Remove this sore from thy eyes.” Orlo proclaimed with the chapel now flooding with Royal Guards as everything that Victor had accomplished was crushed by his father’s fist.

Victor vomited, spewing golden ichor onto the floor before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he lost consciousness.