All things considered, ironically, it was a fitting end for a butt groper like him.

As Xzavier stood over the drunk whose place was now on the ground, he felt someone tugging him tightly at the edge of his coat's sleeve. It was Adalia, and she had a frantic look in her eyes. Xzavier mistook this as the byproduct of her trauma and tried to placate her.

"Relax, it's all over now. He won't be bothering you any time soon…"

"Xzavier let's get out of here quickly!"

Xzavier turned round to fully assess the threat level in the environment, thinking maybe there was trouble brewing that he couldn't see. But as he scanned his immediate surrounding, Xzavier was a bit disappointed to see that there hadn't even been a single decent reaction from the crowd, or even a considerate passerby. Those who had even bothered to look in the direction of the drunk had on a look of indifference on their faces. It was as if the offense he had committed was as normal as a bird landing on a roof.

Xzavier couldn't see why Adalia was so worked up. Clearly no one cared. So he thought maybe she was probably ashamed of being degraded in such a demeaning fashion. Xzavier turned to face the drunk again, this time fully prepared to extract an apology from his drunk self. Again and again, Adalia persisted with her pleas, imploring Xzavier to take her out of this place.

Xzavier felt a strange wave of nostalgia wash over him as he reviewed Adalia's situation. This particular scene was oddly reminiscent of that one time with Tacy. The similarity was disturbing in the sense that both Adalia and Tacy had chosen to make the same choice- to leave things as they were, not wanting to stir the pot or make any ripples in the water. He heard the familiar tone of Tacy's voice echoing in Adalia when she told him that he would get used to it.

But even now, Xzavier still felt the same way as he did back then. He already knew that there was no way on earth that he would ever get used it.

So, Xzavier forcefully, and at the same time, gently took hold of Adalia's wrist and comforted her in brash but comforting words.

"You will be fine. Just a little while longer, and everything will be okay. Just trust the process."

Xzavier's intentions were noble, but he wasn't listened to Adalia. If he had been able to put his righteous anger aside, just for a second, he would have been able to discern the true source of Adalia's worries and why exactly it was so relevant to that particular situation. He didn't know But he was soon going to find out the hard way.

Armed with fresh resolve and a burning zeal to defend the oppressed and punish the agitator, he turned to face the group of people who seemed to be together with the drunk.

For the first time since he had blindly charged at the drunk, Xzavier took his time to look at his victim who was still trying to get up on his own from the place Xzavier had put him. Slightly amused, Xzavier observed that the drunk was actually a young man who was clad in luxurious clothes and a good amount of jewelry. As Xzavier observed him curiously, he concluded that he must be either rich or famous.

In direct contrast to his own glorious appearance, his entourage seemed to be the exact opposite. They were in dull clothing and had simple looks. In short, they looked plain and bland. He soon connected the dots, and immediately, it registered on Xzavier that they weren't young man's friends, not in the logical sense. Judging by the way they glared at Xzavier and slowly formed a defensive perimeter round about their ward, Xzavier came to understand that they were probably household slaves, or maybe even bodyguards of some sort.

He swallowed hard when it dawned on him that this wasn't some regular roadside drunk. Xzavier had stumbled on a very interesting situation, and at the center of it all was a young Aristocrat. He already had a faint idea of just how insane the class system was here. So, when the first wave of the fallout came, Xzavier wasn't at all surprised.

One of them stepped forward angrily. By all count, he appeared to be the leader of the servants. Glaring at Xzavier with all the contempt he could muster, and with his face like thunder, he barked at Xzavier;

"You impudent rascal! You dare put a hand on my master?!"

He shook his hands in Xzavier's face as he thrust out his finger challengingly.

"Get on your knees this instant and apologize immediately!"

There was no trace of a joke on the face or in the voice of the leader. In fact, his whole stance was the very picture of sober and calculated seriousness. But somehow, Xzavier found himself fighting to suppress the tide of laughter building up in his gut.

No matter how he tried, Xzavier just couldn't seem to take his challenger seriously. Maybe it was the costume, maybe it was the way his face twisted tightly when he spoke, or maybe it was the fact that he genuinely expected Xzavier to apologize when the other dude was clearly in the wrong. It was hilarious, and laughter worthy. Xzavier actually began to doubt if he had heard correctly. But, m his doubts were put at ease with the challenger's next threat..

"Either kneel and confess your mistake now, or suffer the consequences of your folly!" he cried at the top of his voice.

His rising impatience reflected in his tone. Deep down, the leader was a bit disturbed. He hadn't anticipated the fact that it would take this long for Xzavier to apologize. It was unheard of, almost inconceivable to think that a nobody like him would dare to lay hands on a noble. At first, the servant's leader thought that it had been a mistake, and that Xzavier probably didn't know who he had assaulted. This was the most probable, and the most plausible explanation.

But much to his surprise, instead of seeing a repentant look, and a corresponding body language that echoed reverence, he seemed to be getting the exact opposite vibe from the stranger. With every passing second, he could see the glowing embers of rebellion and impudence burning brighter and brighter in Xzavier's eyes. He felt like he was being taunted, baited even.

He had resorted to threats, thinking this was merely a game of bravado. Secretly hoping that Xzavier would back down.

"You low life runt!"

This jab was funny. Not for anything else, but because as a servant, he was also a lowlife runt. His time around nobles had clearly stripped him of his dose of reality. Xzavier wanted to make this clear by releasing an equally vitriolic reply. But as always, his calm logical side prevailed, and with it, the choice to keep calm prevailed as well.

Behind Xzavier, Adalia sensed that things were about to get serious. So, she rushed to him and quickly brought him up to speed on what he already suspected. She whispered in his ear hurriedly, as if trying her best to quickly rid her mouth of the information that was weighing heavy in her mouth.

"That's what I've do trying to tell you!" she rasped with nervousness.

"That drunk is Eadweard- the primogeniture of the Anjou family!"

Xzavier didn't know if that piece of information was supposed to make a difference. In any case, it didn't. Adalia sensed that he was unimpressed and proceeded to elaborate more in hushed whispers.

"This is no small fish Xzavier, he is a playboy king! And no one in the whole of Princy State dares to mess with his family, except the governor."

With this new information that had only just been brought to light, Xzavier finally began to see a much clearer picture. He wasn't just dealing with a regular douchebag, this was a gigantic douchebag of a cosmic proportion- a playboy prince with family connections, wealth and prestige. The perfect recipe for the making of a future tyrannical ruler!

Xzavier began to feel like maybe had put him on this path to set this playboy straight. On the long run, he would be doing the future generations a favor by humbling him here today.

The playboy prince of the hour wasn't really feeling princely at the moment. For some odd reason, he was seated in the dust, and in public! His mind was an intoxicated mess, so he struggled to find the missing piece in his juggled memory. He soon found the missing link in his memories, and filled the gap. It took him a while, but he finally realized that he had been shoved hard. Really hard! The pain in his butt was beginning to roar behind him like a dumb lio.

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