CH6 Furor Bloodline — Calm Madness
***
Bang!
The gang leader's fist slammed into Alex's stomach. The boy doubled over like a folding chair and crashed to the ground, gasping.
"Seriously? Down from just one punch? You call yourself a Fury?" the leader sneered. "Get him back up."
Two goons grabbed Alex by the shoulders, yanking him upright, while the remaining two maintained the binding spells that kept him restrained.
The leader stepped forward, fists ready, and continued his assault.
"Beg," he said between punches. "Just beg me once, and I'll let you go."
Alex said nothing.
Even as pain wracked his body, he remained silent—his gaze locked onto the leader.
Unnoticed by all, a change crept into his ruby-red eyes. Slowly, they deepened into a fierce crimson—eerily similar to his father's, Earl Drake Fury.
Kill! Kill!! Kill!!!
The whispers came like echoes in a storm, and with them, an overwhelming surge of bloodlust erupted from his gaze.
The gang leader froze.
He shivered, an involuntary tremor running down his spine as though he'd been plunged into the abyss.
"Marcus!"
He only recovered when one of his goons holding Alex in place called out to him.
Marcus blinked, shaking off the chill only to find his back drenched in sweat.
'Did I… feel fear? From just a look? Me? Marcus Hertarian?'
Shame burned in his chest—quickly replaced by fury.
He drove his fist into Alex's face, sending the boy crashing to the ground again.
"Hey! Marcus!" one of the gang members barked. "We agreed— no hits to the face! What the hell?"
"It's nothing," Marcus said dismissively. "That punch won't even leave a mark. He's a waste of the Fury family, but still a Fury. He'll be fine."
"Well, I'm out," the goon replied, stepping away.
"Whatever," Marcus muttered.
He turned to Alex, now sprawled on the floor. The crimson glow had faded from the boy's eyes.
'Was that just an illusion? Yeah… of course. He's nothing. Just the family disgrace. There's no way someone like him could ever frighten me.'
"This suits you," Marcus said mockingly. "Trash like you should always be on the ground. Know your place, Fury. Crawl when you see true nobles like me."
He drove a kick into the boy's body while he down.
The group burst into laughter as they walked away.
-
Ten minutes later, Alex forced himself up, body bruised and bloodied, and staggered back to his dorm.
Once inside, he calmly retrieved a vial of Enclave-standard basic healing potion—worth seventy gold—and downed it in one gulp.
The relief was almost immediate.
At least, physically.
Mentally... it was a storm.
His ruby eyes kept flickering between gentle red and the vengeful shade of bloodlust
The whispers in his mind gradually dulled to a faint echo, but their presence lingered.
He didn't need anyone to explain where they came from.
The Furor Bloodline.
A cursed legacy that bestowed tremendous power… at a cost. Heightened emotions, particularly wrath, were its fuel.
This was the first time Alex had felt it stir—an undeniable sign.
His bloodline was awakening.
And that was both a blessing… and a curse.
The power was his to claim. But so were the consequences.
Even now, though the bloodlust had subsided, his body still trembled with barely suppressed rage.
--
"You are fortunate... and unfortunate to be a Fury,"
His father's voice echoed in his mind.
--
"You've had ten years of peace. That ends now. If you want to keep your status, your wealth, your life, then gain power. Not just ordinary power, but overwhelming power. Power so vast no one -hostile race, other nobles or even your siblings- dares challenge it!"
Alex's fists clenched. The words rang true.
'They only dared attack me because I'm weak. They fear the Furor bloodline—but only when its inheritor is strong. Right now, they see me as a failed heir. A waste. Powerless.'
--
"Once you possess overwhelming power, you will be able to do whatever you want and no one will question you. Be it reasonable or absurd, no one will dare breath a word."
-
'They broke the rules by attacking me inside the Enclave. That means they're confident someone or something powerful is backing them—and just as confident no one will protect me.'
---
"Never forget. Only if I hold a sword, and you hold one as well, can talk law. If I hold a dagger and you're empty-handed, I hold with me, the truth... and your life.
"Those who create the rules are often the first to break them. Rules are chains for the weak and tools for the strong. Everything else is falsehood. Morality, law, rules... they only matter when both sides are equal in power. Power is the only truth.
---
"Power is the only truth…" Alex whispered.
He sat there, motionless, for over an hour.
'I can't keep acting like I'm in my old world. This isn't a land of laws. It's a world where strength is justice. They could kill me tomorrow and nothing would happen. Even if someone cared… I'd already be dead.'
He exhaled slowly, the last of his hesitation bleeding out with the breath.
'I have to use every resource I have to grow my strength and obtain power– my knowledge, my abilities, my Rune-Tech… and now, my bloodline. Fortunately, I have a path forward for my Rune-Tech Foundation. And now, thanks to those bastards, I have a way to fully awaken the the Furor Bloodline within.'
"I'll make sure to repay them," Alex said,
Unknowingly, a smile filled with cruel intentions tugged at his lips.
Unaware of the change within himself, Alex Fury had just taken his first true step toward embodying the signature trait of the infamous Fury family—
Calm Madness.
-
The next day, Alex walked through the same quiet alleyway where he had been attacked before.
Just like the day prior, he was ambushed again by the same gang of five older acolytes.
The third day—same thing.
By the sixth day, the gang didn't even bother hiding anymore. They openly assaulted Alex as soon as he appeared, beating him within an inch of his life.
As always, Alex would drag himself back to his feet, stagger to his dorm, and heal himself using a high-grade potion.
And every time… he smiled.
It was an eerie smile, increasingly unsettling. His crimson eyes shimmered with silent rage and madness—a sight that would have terrified his attackers had they seen it.
On the seventh day, Alex changed tactics. Instead of using the secluded shortcut, he took a more public, roundabout path to his dorm.
"Bastard!" Marcus hissed after waiting hours in vain. "Find him!"
The others grumbled but followed his orders nonetheless. It was already too late to back down.
Eighth day. Ninth day. Alex continued avoiding them.
By the tenth day, the gang was convinced they had broken his spirit. That a Fury was now hiding from them.
Drunk on confidence—and irritated from wasting days—they decided to confront him directly, this time near the lecture hall.
"You cowardly Fury! Trying to run again?" Marcus sneered.
They dragged him from the path and into a quiet corner, preparing to beat him down once more—this time in full public view.
"Stop right there!"
The booming voice of a lecturer cut through the air. It was the Orc Warlord instructor from the class Alex had just attended.
"You dare attack a peer within the Enclave?!"
The professor raised a hand, casting a barrier spell that separated Alex from his assailants.
"N-no, Professor," Marcus stammered. "We were just... talking. Right, Fury?"
Alex dusted himself off and gave the Orc Warlord a polite nod.
Then, he turned to Marcus with a cold glint in his eyes.
"Marcus Hertarian, do you dare face me in a duel?" he challenged, voice calm, yet biting. "Or are you only brave when hiding behind ambushes and goons?"
His eyes shimmered crimson, and Marcus involuntarily took a step back.
'There's something wrong with this kid,' Marcus thought. 'Better not engage now.'
"Sorry, but no," Marcus said, regaining his composure. "I gain nothing from dueling someone younger and weaker."
Alex smiled coldly. "You didn't care about that when you ambushed me. If you're scared, just say so."
The Orc professor's intervention had drawn a crowd, and Alex's words cut deep—humiliating Marcus and his gang before a growing number of onlookers.
While strength was respected in Pangea, the Enclave still held order. Bullying those weaker than you, especially with overwhelming numbers, was seen as disgraceful.
"You—!" Marcus began, but Alex cut him off.
"Dragon Duel," Alex declared. "I'll stake my remaining grant balance—250,000 gold coins."
A hush fell over the crowd.
Marcus's throat went dry. Even as a noble, his entire net worth didn't reach that.
"I get it," Alex continued mockingly. "You're jealous because you are poor. Don't worry, I'll settle for your wand and your precious Grimoire—those are the only things of value you own anyway."
"You—!"
"Enough talking. Do you accept, or are you just full of air?"
Marcus was seething, but there was no way he could touch Alex with the Orc Warlord watching.
"Fine," he spat. "Since you're so desperate to pay me to give you a sound beating, why not? I accept!"
"Good," Alex nodded, turning his back on him without a care—under the stunned gazes of everyone present.
Marcus clenched his fists, burning with rage at the dismissal.
"Remember," the Orc Warlord warned, "Dragon Duels are sacred. Interfere in any way, and you'll be executed on the spot."
The gang shivered as the temperature seemingly dropped a few degrees.
With that, the professor walked off, and the crowd dispersed.
The gang was left alone.
Then they burst out laughing.
"He really challenged you!" one goon said.
"A Dragon Duel, no less!" another added.
"He may not have awakened his bloodline yet, but he still has the Fury pride," Marcus grinned darkly. "I'll grind that pride into the dirt."
"Let's go tell the boss," someone suggested. "We'll fan the flames—make sure the whole Enclave sees the fall of a Fury."
The group made their way to the Enclave's upper-class quarters.
---
"What?! Alex challenged someone to a Dragon Duel?" Zora shot up from her chair in shock.
***