Chapter 127: A Brotherhood Ending

CH127 A Brotherhood Ending

***

"You will use me...?" Kurt echoed Alex’s earlier words, his voice tight with disbelief.

"Yes. Is that too difficult for you to comprehend?" Alex replied coldly. "Since you’re not even worthy of being my opponent, I’ll at least put you to use—as a lesson to others like you who... don’t... know... their... place."

Each word was deliberate, dragged out, driving itself deeper into Kurt’s mind like a branding iron.

Kurt didn’t respond with words.

Instead, his Internal Energy erupted.

A reddish aura enveloped his body as it grew more massive, his flesh bulking up grotesquely until he stood a full eight feet tall, a hulking beast of a teenager.

Titan Bloodline Manifestation.

[A.N: Hulk smash mode unlocked.]

The crowd roared in awe and horror. The ground trembled with each of Kurt’s slow, heavy steps.

Alex didn’t even flinch.

"You’re going to fight me barehanded?!" Kurt sneered. "Don’t make me laugh!"

With a growl, his giant right palm swung towards Alex’s head, the sheer force behind it was enough to crush his skull.

"As I thought," Alex muttered. "You really do need a good beating."

He slipped into a light boxing stance and simply tilted to the side, letting the blow pass harmlessly by. The overextension opened up Kurt’s torso.

Alex could have gone for a finishing strike to the kidney, heart or liver.

But he had something else in mind.

He feinted a body blow, making Kurt instinctively reinforce his torso’s defences.

Instead, Alex’s fist curved mid-strike and slammed into the side and back of Kurt’s lead knee.

Crack!

Kurt grunted, staggering, almost half-kneeling.

He forced himself to remain standing—exactly what Alex had anticipated.

Taking a step back, Alex launched a kickboxing-style calf kick, rocking Kurt’s leg from the side.

Roar!

Kurt lashed out again, another huge punch aimed for Alex’s ribs.

Alex ducked and parried with minimal contact, slipping to the side to land another calf kick—this time on the opposite leg.

The pattern repeated.

Punch—evade—kick.

Swing—parry—kick.

Feint—sidestep—kick.

Although Kurt’s Titan-transformed body was veiled in a reddish glow that masked surface wounds, the damage beneath was adding up fast.

Each of Alex’s kicks was layered with subtle Dragon Kumite Mana ripples, bypassing surface muscle tension to hammer the joints and tendons underneath.

Even Kurt’s enhanced body couldn’t absorb it forever.

No matter how big the tree, chop enough at the base and it will fall.

Eventually, Kurt’s movements stuttered.

His legs buckled slightly.

Alex’s eyes flashed.

Uppercut!

His fist rocketed upwards into Kurt’s chin, shaking the larger boy’s brain inside his skull. There was a sickening crack—and for just a moment, everything went blank for Kurt.

He dropped to one knee.

’What... What is happening?’ he thought. ’Even after my transformation... why can’t I hit him? Why is he still stronger? Still better?’

Alex’s voice cut through the haze.

"Get up! Surely you can still be of use as teaching material, right? Surely, that’s not all you got, right?" Alex’s voice sounded in Kurt’s ears at this moment.

The tone had changed.

It was no longer taunting.

No longer human.

It was cold, commanding—like the whisper of a devil inside his mind.

"Get up!" Alex barked.

And as if ordered by some higher will, Kurt stood.

His legs trembled.

From pain?

From fear?

Even he didn’t know anymore.

Kurt looked like a cornered beast, forced into a fight it no longer wanted.

There were only two choices left: flight or fight.

He wanted to run.

He desperately wanted to run.

But then—

"What are you doing, Kurt?! Kill him! KILL HIM!!"

His mother’s shrill, desperate scream echoed through the arena.

Reason crumbled.

Emotion surged.

And Kurt, foolishly, chose to fight.

Kurt roared again, launching another punch. But with his legs battered and barely functional, the strike lacked power.

Alex caught the arm with ease.

Then, as if to execute a judo throw, he stepped in—only to twist his body at the last moment.

CRACK!

A devastating backwards spinning elbow slammed into Kurt’s jaw.

The audience flinched as one.

Still gripping Kurt’s arm, Alex took a step back out and drove his knee into his side.

Right into the liver.

Kurt froze.

The pain overwhelmed his nervous system, stunning him completely and leaving him wide open.

And Alex... showed no mercy.

With his left hand still controlling Kurt’s arm, he began unleashing a rapid-fire barrage of punches straight to Kurt’s face with his right—sharp, clean, unrelenting Jeet Kune Do-style straights.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Ten.

Then came the body shots.

Stomach.

Heart.

Kidneys.

Lungs.

Alex’s fists found every vulnerable organ like a man possessed. Clinical. Calculated.

Then came the uppercuts.

Then the hooks.

Then back to the body.

At some point, he had let go of Kurt’s arm—but Kurt remained upright, not by his will, but by Alex’s careful punch placement that locked his body in place.

Even the least combat-savvy in the crowd could see it now: Alex was picking each punch with terrifying precision, balancing maximum pain with total control.

This was no longer a duel.

It was an execution.

Alex could have ended it at any time.

But he didn’t.

He dragged it out—punishment made flesh.

And as his earlier words echoed through the minds of the stunned audience:

"Let me use you to educate any fool who thinks they can stand in my way."

Everyone understood.

Especially the heirs of the Fury Family’s Council, seated in the stands—Alex’s next opponents should he win this duel.

They shivered, pale-faced.

Kurt was no weakling.

But he was now he was reduced a living warning.

Five minutes passed.

Alex returned back to Kurt, his five excruciating, bloody minutes.

By now, even the reddish glow of the Titan Transformation could no longer hide the visible swelling and bruises across Kurt’s body.

Alex took one final step forward and delivered a devastating body hook.

Thud!

Kurt’s body curled like a shrimp.

Alex caught his arm, guided him forward—and forced him to drop to his knees.

He was still breathing.

Barely.

Eyes dazed. Body broken. Spirit shattered.

Alex reached forward with his right hand, grabbing Kurt by the hair, holding his head upright on his knees.

He looked into his brother’s eyes.

"I almost pity you," he said softly.

"I don’t know if you’ve ever realised it, Kurt... but your entire life, you’ve been a pawn.

"First your mother and her Holt family used you. Then, Father.

"And now... me."

He sighed inwardly.

’Such is the life of the weak and gullible in this world.’

"Very well," Alex whispered. "Let me put you out of your pitiful existence."

He raised his left hand, curled it into a fist—a simple uppercut.

Compared to all that had come before, this final punch seemed almost gentle.

But hidden within it...

The Wristblade of the Beta Bracer.

Pucchi—

The moment Alex’s fist made contact beneath Kurt’s jaw, the blade extended.

Silent. Efficient. Lethal.

It pierced up through the underside of Kurt’s jaw, into his skull, and straight into his brain.

Alex held the pose for a moment, then slowly withdrew his hand.

He released Kurt’s hair.

The body collapsed—lifeless.

Kurt Fury was dead.

The second son of Earl Drake’s branch of the Fury Family—slain in a sanctioned life-or-death duel.

The arena was silent.

And then...

A single voice spoke, from the highest gallery.

"According to the rules of the Fury Family," Earl Drake intoned, "the heir to my line is now indisputably—"

"Alex Fury."

**