Zara sat in the VIP booth of the Grand Kufstein Stadium while munching on a pretzel. She had a wide smile on her face as she watched the one minute break between the rounds with eager eyes. In the blue corner, Brandt sat on a stool while drinking an ice cold beer. Though his team rubbed his chiseled body with ice, there was not the slightest bit of exhaustion on the man's face.

However, Reiner was a different story entirely. The reining champ was covered in cuts and welts, and though the cutman did his best to temporarily stop the bleeding, via the use of spreading vaseline. The reality was that the man had already taken some massive damage. There was simply no way this fight was going the distance, and the Reiner knew it. Even then, he refused to throw in the towel.

Thus, as the bell rang, and the two fighters resumed the fight, the reigning champion did his all to win. With a double jab, followed by an overhand right, Reiner threw his hands with intent to harm. And while Brandt did parry the first three strikes, the third one go through his defenses, and clipped him on the side of the head.

Despite the powerful attack, it did not have much of an effect on its target, whose chin was made of granite. And thus Brandt taunted his opponent with a jab, and a cross, purposefully missing the target, before kicking his front leg towards his opponent's head. Evidently, Reiner had not expected this attack, which seemingly came out of nowhere, and thus, he leaned his head right into the strike as he avoided the two punches that set it up.

The kick knocked Reiner down to the ground like a sack of potatoes, where his body twitched in its unconscious state. Knowing that the fight was over, Brandt ran around the ring and pounded his chest with his fists like a barbarian, before making a gesture that appeared as if he was cutting his own throat.

Reiner was down for the count, and after ten seconds the fight was declared a victory by knockout for the new Middleweight champion of the world. After a total of thirty seconds, Reiner awoke and found that he had lost his title. With an expression of overwhelming shame on his face, he hung his head while the doctors checked on his condition.

Not long after, the two men were lined up in the center of the ring, where the referee held onto both of their arms. Brandt used his free hand to make a number one gesture as he trembled with excitement. Meanwhile, the announcer officially concluded the fight.

"This contest has come to a sudden end via knockout by the new Middleweight champion of the world, Brandt Zehntner!"

The entire crowd screamed as the referee raised Brandt's hand as a sign of victory. As the man celebrated his astonishing victory, the head of the World Kickboxing Commission wrapped a luxurious golden and black belt around the new champion's waist, which he fondled with joy. Afterward, an interviewer stepped forward towards the Brandt and asked him the question which was on everyone's mind.

"Brandt, you imposed your skill set, and dominated what many consider to be the greatest kickboxer in the world before finally knocking the man out in the first moments of the second round! You are now officially the youngest Kickboxing World Champion in the history of the sport. How do you feel right now?"

Brandt immediately grabbed hold of the microphone and spoke his thoughts aloud. They had nothing to do with the question which was asked of him and were entirely unrelated to the fight itself. But his words stirred a fire in the heart of everyone watching.

"I hear there is a very special young lady in attendance tonight. Princess Zara! You are the woman of my dreams! I have admired you from afar for several years now, and I would very much like to get to know you. You name the time and the place, and I will be there waiting for you!"

The crowd broke out into thunderous applause, as cheers of excitement were shouted alongside it. Nobody expected the man to ask for a date with one of the Reich's many princesses.

Zara was sitting in the VIP box with a dumbstruck expression on her pretty face. Brandt wanted to meet her? He had been admiring her from afar for several years now? She honestly couldn't believe it.

More than anything, the girl wanted to rush down to the ring and publically accept the man's confession. However, she knew that would not bode well for her reputation, and thus she decided to remain seated, as she smiled like she had never done so before.

Meanwhile, back in the Palace, Berengar was watching the fight in his personal bar. He was so stunned by the fighter's sudden confession of love that he had dropped his glass, which shattered all over the floor. Out of every man who had attempted to win his daughter's heart, a low-class kickboxer from the colonies was, without a doubt, the least desirable match of them all.

Zara deserved a Prince of the highest caliber, not some young twerp who was still wet behind the ears. Berengar did not realize it, but he was fuming with anger. The frightening expression on his face had even startled the bartender, who served the man another drink before making a comment on Berengar's behavior.

"No offense, boss, but in case you haven't realized it yet, your precious daughter is already a woman, I mean, I don't mean to sound presumptuous but I could write a book on the things that I have seen go on around here, but I doubt even you see your own daughter in such a way.

Zara is already an adult, and yet you have utterly failed to provide a spouse for her. Most girls her age, especially those among the nobility, are already married. Yet all of your daughters are still single. I think you should stop treating your girls like they are still children and actually find suitable partners for them.

At the very least, Zara would never forgive you if you prevented her from meeting this guy. She has quite the crush on him. I have heard more than a few lectures about the "legendary"

Brandt Zehntner come from the girl's mouth. So you should invite the man to the palace, and have a personal meeting with him, to judge his character, before you let your daughter meet him."

Berengar gazed coldly at the bartender who had served him and his family for many years now. He had never actually inquired about the woman's personal life throughout the years he had known her. Thus, he was quite surprised to hear such words come from her, and was quick to ask a question which had just popped up in his mind.

"Are you married?"

The woman wore a proud smirk on her face as she flashed her ring off to Berengar. It was by no means exceptional, but she was indeed quite proud that it was hers. The woman then said something which surprised her boss.

"Indeed, for nearly five years now. Actually, my husband hates the fact that I continue to work in the palace as your family's personal bartender, but the pay is great, and unlike anywhere else in the city, I don't have to worry about being sexually harassed here. Well, unless you count Linde's drunken advances..."

Berengar felt slightly ashamed of his wife when he heard that she had been flirting with their family's bartender. But he did not say a word. Instead, he looked at the woman with a smile on his face before making a decision that he felt he would probably regret.

"Very well, I will invite this new champion to the palace, but if he wants to marry my daughter, then he will have to prove himself worthy..."

The bartender could already tell that Berengar was going to make this poor sod's life a living hell. But she didn't blame him. For a commoner from the colonies to dream of marrying a princess of the Reich, he would need to be more than just a wealthy man and a prizefighter to accomplish this. In fact, the woman doubted he would actually succeed in his endeavors.