Wrong Prince! I'm Not the Crown Heir of Aeloria

"Elvis! A prince of the realm, yet you spend your days fooling around like a street urchin—is this any way for a crown prince to behave?" "With such disgraceful conduct, how can I entrust the throne to you? How will you ever live up to the hopes of millions who depend on you?" Inside the Aurelia Palace, Denny's face darkened like a thunderstorm, his eyes blazing with fury. The nine-year-old Elvis just grinned at his father. "I don't want to be heir. Don't want the empire either." He cheered inwardly—thank the heavens he'd dodged that fate! No way was he ending up like that pathetic, crippled prince from history who'd wasted his life fawning over actors. If he had a choice? Mountains of gold, a harem of beauties—now that was the life. After all, this Elvis was a transmigrated soul with a system. Sure, its name was ridiculous— Troll King System… Ridiculous title aside, it had perks: every ounce of anger he stirred earned him rage points to exchange for prizes and lottery draws. While Elvis was mentally high-fiving himself, Denny exploded. Veins bulged as his eyeballs nearly shot from their sockets. [+100 RP: Denny] The system's alert jolted Elvis. He blinked—and froze. His father's gaze burned into him. "What in blazes are you thinking?!" Denny jabbed a finger at him. "Building an empire—of commerce." Elvis's mind spun lavish daydreams: "Gold-plated beds, feasts fit for gods, women lovelier than moonbeams—why slave as emperor when you're paranoid about assassins? My future's leagues ahead." "You'd trade the throne for merchant ventures? Who put this nonsense in your head?" [+1000 RP: Denny] "Mercy! Call off the imperial executioner!" Panicked by the rage meter spike, Elvis bolted. But an eight-year-old was no match for an emperor's wrath. One dizzying swoop later—SMACK!—fire erupted across his backside. Elvis yelped like a scalded cat, legs kicking uselessly. "'Slaving as emperor,' eh?" WHAP! "'Harem of beauties,' was it?" CRACK! "'Gold-plated beds'—really?" THUD! "Still refusing the throne?" "Never! I'd rather die!" BAM! Denny exhaled sharply, waving a hand. "Enough. I'm done." "...Really?" Rubbing his sore rear, Elvis scowled. "Even if you stop, I'm never being crown prince. Give it up." Then—whoosh!—he darted off like a spooked hare. After Elvis scampered off, Denny picked up the sheet of paper on the desk and murmured, "'If the Flying General were still in Dragon City, no barbarian steeds would dare cross the frontier.' What a brilliant poem!" He frowned, scratching his chin. "Did I go too hard on the spanking?" Back at Celestia Keep, Elvis found everything prepared—saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. His engineering knowledge from his past life wasn't for nothing. If he wanted to infuriate someone, what could be more perfect than this? Crouching on the ground, Elvis worked meticulously before pulling out a firestarter. He lit the fuse, then bolted. KABOOM! The explosion sent Elvis jumping a foot into the air. "This beats firecrackers any day! If we sell these, the line of buyers would stretch from Valkaris to Ravenmoor!" His face lit up with a mischievous grin. "I'm gonna be rolling in gold! But first..." His expression turned wicked. "Some payback's in order." Meanwhile in the palace, Denny, having finished disciplining his son, summoned the imperial scholars to admire Elvis's poetry. The scholars showered the verse with praise. "The Crown Prince is too young to compose such works," Denny said, though the pride in his eyes betrayed his delight. "No need for flattery—" WHOOSH! A bamboo tube landed at his feet. "What's this?" Denny reached down to pick it up— KABOOM! Smoke cleared to reveal the emperor's face blackened, his poor scorched beard now completely gone. {+888 Fury Points from Denny} "HAHAHAHA!" Elvis's gleeful cackling echoed from outside. Success! "You little rascal!" Denny roared, clutching his beard as he charged out. His eyes burned with rage as he lunged for Elvis. But the boy was slipperier than a greased weasel. In a flash, he scrambled up the tree by the entrance. "Get down here!" Denny bellowed, red-faced beneath the soot. "Make me, old man! Unless you want another taste of my fireworks!" Elvis brandished a double-bang firework and hurled it downward. KABOOM! The explosion sent Denny stumbling back. "Elvis! Come down before you hurt yourself!" Denny pleaded, genuine concern cutting through his anger. "Only if you promise no spankings, no scoldings, and no punishments!" Denny's eye twitched. The scamp was bargaining now. "Fine!" he grumbled. "You have my word. I'd fetch you the moon if you asked." He extended his arms, putting on a patient smile. Denny counted to ten in his head before sighing. "You're still young," he conceded with a theatrical sigh. "I'll let this one slide." Denny carefully lowered Elvis to the ground, only for the boy to immediately toss a large bundle of mysterious objects into his arms. "Elvis, what in blazes is this?" the emperor demanded. "These are fireworks - perfect for teaching tyrants a lesson! Geez Dad, quit nagging!" Elvis retorted with an impish grin. "They look pretty dangerous," Denny mused, absentmindedly ruffling his son's hair with paternal affection. "They're enhanced firecrackers! Add colored powder and boom - instant fireworks! These'll be worth a fortune!" Elvis explained excitedly. The emperor's grip tightened on his son's shoulders as realization dawned. "You can't be serious! How much could these tiny contraptions possibly fetch?" "Trust me, the noble ladies and young masters would pay a king's ransom for these! Imagine using them for foolproof romance!" Elvis declared with the confidence of a seasoned merchant. "Preposterous! Proper marriages require parental arrangements," Denny scoffed, though his mind was already calculating potential profits. The Aeloria Treasury was so empty even rats left in tears - any additional income would be welcome. "My brilliant son," the emperor cooed, his earlier threats of violence completely forgotten, "won't you teach your dear father how to make these?" He looked ready to squeeze the child in a bear hug. "No way!" Elvis turned his head away stubbornly. "You little monster! How dare you speak to me like - I mean... from now on you'll be Daddy's favorite boy, alright?" Denny's tone shifted comically from anger to syrupy sweetness. After a lengthy silence, the emperor glanced down to find his son fast asleep in his arms. "This little troublemaker!" He handed the sleeping prince to Empress Vallier. "Seraphina, take Elvis to bed. All this excitement has worn him out," he said, gently stroking her hair. The empress burst into laughter at the sight of the bamboo basket in Denny's hands. "You'd scheme against your own son?" she teased, playfully punching his arm. With a gleeful chuckle, the emperor raced into Aurelia Palace clutching his prize. {Theft detected. Initiating "Tit for Tat" quest: Slap Denny three times. Reward: System lottery draw.} Elvis suddenly tumbled from the empress's grasp and sprinted after his father. "Elvis, slow down! Don't cause trouble for your father!" Vallier called after him, knowing pursuit was futile before returning to Celestial Hall. Meanwhile in Aurelia Palace, Denny examined the bamboo tubes like precious jewels, his admiration growing by the second. "Wait... is this... the 'Peace Scroll' by Wang Xizhi? The brat pasted it onto fireworks! That ungrateful brat!" Heartbroken, the emperor began carefully picking at the priceless calligraphy from the bamboo. WHAP!~~~~RRRIP "Blast it all! My 'Peace Manuscript'!" Denny's eyes burned with barely contained rage. Just when he'd nearly peeled it off intact—ruined at the final moment! His heart shattered like the shredded remains of parchment littering the floor. "You ungrateful wretch! Striking your own father!" Elvis twisted his sleeves, eyes welling up with dramatic tears. "I-I saw a mosquito on your face," he sniffled. "And now you're scolding me? Fine! No fireworks formula for you!" He turned sharply, stomping toward the exit. Hmph. Just wait until We obtain that formula, you little demon. We shall endure... for now. "My precious boy, Father was wrong!" Denny put on a sycophantic smile. "Let me make amends." "Then you have to let me ride you like a horse!" Elvis jutted his chin out, radiating smugness. "Agreed—but first, the formula." "Fine then! Lean closer." Denny hesitated. The formula was priceless—best not risk eavesdroppers. He eagerly craned his neck forward. With a sharp swing of his hand—SMACK!