Chapter 114: Powerhouses of the Fury Family

CH114 Powerhouses of the Fury Family

***

Things were noticeably tenser than usual when Alex arrived at Ashen Castle.

The Fury soldiers weren’t training. Instead, they had taken up defensive positions all around the estate. What caught Alex’s attention even more were the foreign troops mingled in with the usual guard detail—faces, armour, and insignias he didn’t all recognise.

He didn’t get time to dwell on it.

The moment he arrived, one of Jared’s subordinate knights approached and silently ushered him into the castle.

Alex was led through the halls to the castle’s large meeting chamber, where important family councils were held. Already, nobles and officers were streaming into the grand room.

These weren’t just members of Earl Drake Fury’s immediate line.

They were representatives from every major branch of the Furor Bloodline House.

A faint flash of surprise passed through Alex’s eyes.

’Looks like they intend to blow this up more than I thought,’ he mused silently.

He was guided to a waiting room adjacent to the hall. It didn’t take long before a maid arrived to collect him.

"Entering, Young Master Alex!" the butler called as the doors opened.

Alex stepped into the hall, composed, with Fen drowsily nestled in his arms.

He was led to a seat right next to the five main thrones—the central positions of power.

Settling in, placing Fen on his lap, Alex calmly scanned the hall.

Opposite him, also close to the main seats, sat Kurt, upright and tense.

Further out, down the long table lining the rest of the hall, sat the other attendees. Each of them a notable figure in House Fury’s hierarchy.

As expected of the Fury family, seating arrangements were determined by strength and influence.

The closer one sat to the main thrones, the higher their status.

The Viscounts sat closest to Alex and Kurt. Then came the Barons, followed by important Fury administrators, knights and military officers.

There were nearly sixty people present—each a significant player in the family’s internal politics.

Only matters of great importance could summon so many powerhouses into one room.

"Entering! Her Ladyship, Lord of Highburn Castle, Commander of the ThornRose Legion, the IronRose—Countess Megan Fury!"

Alex’s eyes flickered, momentarily betraying his surprise.

So... the IronRose of House Fury, the one responsible for thrashing Earl Hertarian so thoroughly that his foolish son, under Helmut Wastelander’s manipulation, had attacked Alex at the Enclave...

That infamous IronRose was none other than his Big Sis Megan?

’Of course. How did I not realise it before?’

He resisted the urge to smack his own forehead.

Then again, it wasn’t so easy reconciling the big-sister figure from his childhood memories with the iron-blooded Countess now entering the room.

Almost cold and statuesque, Megan Fury strode into the hall with sharp purpose.

She took her place amongst the five high thrones without hesitation.

She was the very embodiment of her nickname—a steel-willed beauty, unmoved and unbending.

Not long after she was seated, the butler’s voice rang out again.

"Entering! His Lordship, Lord of Barknor Castle, Commander of the Umbra Claw Legion—the Reaper, Count Vincent Fury!"

This time, a lean man entered. He walked with a quiet, controlled grace, and his very presence carried with it a heavy gloom.

The air shifted.

The entire hall fell silent, unnaturally so, as though sound itself feared the man.

Alex narrowed his eyes.

Was this deliberate?

A show of power?

Or... was it simply a passive consequence of his Saintly Domain leaking into the space?

Either way, Vincent Fury’s arrival had changed the atmosphere entirely.

"Hahaha!"

A booming laughter shattered the hall’s oppressive silence like a boulder through glass.

Before the butler could announce the next guest, the man strode into the chamber with earthshaking presence.

"Entering! Lord of Parander Castle, Commander of the Earthshaker Legion— the Colossus, Count Gordon Fury!" the old butler quickly declared.

Alex’s jaw nearly dropped.

He’d thought Kurt’s seven-foot frame, courtesy of his faint Titan Bloodline, was imposing enough... But this man—Count Gordon—stood even taller.

Not only was he massive in height, but he was also broad and barrel-chested, like a walking fortress of muscle and flesh. His limbs, particularly his arms, were as thick as tree trunks—nearly twice the size of Alex’s head (or so it seemed to him).

Yet despite his sheer size and bulk, Count Gordon’s steps made no sound.

That was perhaps the most terrifying thing about him—a mountain of a man who could move like a ghost.

His sharp gaze swept the room until it settled on Alex and Kurt.

"So, this charade was called because of the two of you?" His deep, gravelly voice held a note of mirth. "Well then, I hope you’ll make the long trip worth it, my little nephews."

He grinned.

But to Alex, the grin wasn’t familial. It wasn’t warm.

It was the smile of a predator issuing a warning.

’Just because he’s Earl Drake’s half-brother doesn’t mean he’s happy being dragged from his fief and holdings to deal with some petty squabble between two brats.’

Alex could read between the lines.

Count Gordon made his way to his seat with purposeful ease.

The butler, trying not to tremble, wiped the sweat from his brow before announcing the next entry.

"Entering! Representing the Lord of Windsor Castle, Earl Mathias Fury—Young Lord, Baron Aiden Fury!"

A young man in his late twenties or early thirties entered the hall. If not for his silver-grey hair and red eyes, one might doubt he belonged to the Fury family at all.

Unlike the other guests, Baron Aiden wore the finery of a court noble—flashy, elegant, entirely out of place amidst the martial attire of the rest.

If he wanted to stand out, he succeeded.

Calm and confident, Baron Aiden walked to the main dais and sat at the right-hand seat next to the central throne.

To his right sat Countess Megan.

To the left of the central throne sat Count Gordon, and beside him, Count Vincent.

By status alone, Aiden had no business being seated at that level.

But today, he wasn’t here as himself. He was representing Earl Mathias Fury.

Aiden’s father—Earl Mathias—was not only Earl Drake’s uncle, but also one of the oldest surviving noble heads of House Fury, having earned his title long before Drake had even learned to hold a weapon.

By seniority alone, his proxy held weight.

And so, with four Class-3 nobles now seated, there was only one man remaining.

"Entering!"

The moment the butler spoke, everyone in the room rose—willingly or otherwise.

A strange thump echoed in the air, not unlike the drum of power reverberating across reality.

The butler’s voice followed:

"The Lord of Ashen Castle,"

Thump!

"The Ruler of the Dankrot Plains,"

Thump!

"The Northern Guardian of the Empire,"

Thump!

"The Legend of Fury,"

Thump!

"The Undisputed Head of House Fury,"

Thump!

"The Mad Earl—"

Thump!

"Earl Drake Fury!"

Thump~

The sound faded.

Then came the footsteps—measured, unhurried.

Calm. Cold. Commanding.

Into the hall stepped a familiar figure, whose strong resemblance to Alex made it clear to all: this was the patriarch of their noble House.

But gone was the man who had quietly watched over Alex’s training these past few weeks.

In his place was Earl Drake Fury:

A man with a stone-cold expression, his face seemingly carved from ice, exuding authority and danger in equal measure.

The true head of House Fury had arrived.

Earl Drake’s sharp eyes swept across the hall, scanning every seated member in attendance.

Even such a cursory glance was enough to send a ripple of tension down everyone’s spine.

This was the dignity of the Head of the Fury Family—a clan with rebellion etched into its blood, and yet, in the face of true power, they bowed their heads willingly.

His gaze paused—if only for a fraction longer—on the two eldest sons in the room.

It lingered on one in particular.

Then, without a word, his attention turned to the main dais, where the Class-3 nobles were seated.

One by one, they rose to their feet under his gaze—an unspoken show of respect.

All but one.

Count Gordon remained seated, grinning like a defiant giant.

Earl Drake raised an eyebrow.

"Hahaha!"

Count Gordon let out a booming laugh, rising to his feet with theatrical ease.

"Alright, you win, Drake!"

Only then did Earl Drake move forward, his every step calm and authoritative, the eyes of all present locked on him as if gravity itself demanded it.

He walked to the largest chair in the hall—a seat that resembled a throne more than a noble’s chair—and stopped in front of it.

His attention shifted to Baron Aiden.

Aiden froze as Earl Drake’s cold gaze raked him from head to toe.

Sweat began to bead along the young noble’s back.

"How is Uncle Matthias?" Earl Drake finally asked.

"Father is in good health," Aiden answered quickly, respectfully. "He’s currently on campaign, securing the lands necessary to consolidate his elevation in noble rank."

"Understandable." Earl Drake nodded. "Very well. I will allow you to represent him."

"Thank you for your grace, Your Lordship."

Earl Drake’s expression didn’t change.

"Keep that Empire nobility nonsense to yourself, boy. This... is the Fury Family."

Aiden stiffened, visibly shaken by the correction.

Without waiting for a response, Earl Drake turned and finally took his seat upon the central throne.

"Sit."

The word echoed like a commandment.

Only then did everyone return to their seats.

’So this is the Fury Family... This is what it truly means to wield power—to command even the most rebellious kin into order.’

Alex’s eyes shimmered with thoughtful light.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he gently stroked Fen, still curled up and snoozing in his lap.

Once all had settled, the butler looked towards Earl Drake, awaiting permission.

A single nod was all it took.

The butler turned to the gathering.

"Let the meeting begin."

Almost instantly, an elderly man rose to his feet.

He was dressed sharply in the black and purple colours of House Fury, and carried a cane that tapped sharply against the floor as he stood.

He bore the weight of age, but his voice rang with iron resolve.

"It has come to my attention," the elder began, "that Alex Fury has misused the privileges of the Ancestral Grounds."

His stern gaze swept over the hall before returning to Alex.

"In view of this transgression," he declared, "I hereby move a motion before the Family Council:

That Alex Fury be stripped of his position as heir to Earl Drake Fury’s household...

And that he be made to serve the family diligently for the next decade—to reflect on his behaviour and learn what it means to bear the name of Fury!"

**