Chapter 37: Brutality vs. Technique


    <hr>


    A Predator Unleashed


    The battle wasn’t over.


    Not even close.


    Dante cracked his knuckles, his lips curling into a grin as his aura flared.


    Fenrath, his Direwolf Cipher Beast, rose to its feet, black obsidian armor shifting, plates sharpening into razor-edged weapons.


    Axel exhaled.


    The air was different now.


    Dante had been holding back.


    Not anymore.


    "You’ve got good movement, Mercer," Dante admitted, rolling his shoulders. "But let’s see how you handle someone who doesn’t give a damn about finesse."


    Axel’s eyes narrowed. "So, we’re done pretending this is a fair fight?"


    Dante chuckled. "Oh, this was never a fair fight."


    And then—he attacked.


    <hr>


    Brute Force vs. Precision


    Dante moved like a wrecking ball.


    No wasted motion. No hesitation.


    Just pure destruction.


    He launched forward, throwing a wild right hook that could have shattered bone if it connected.


    Axel barely ducked in time, feeling the shockwave of the missed strike tear through the air.


    But Dante didn’t stop.


    His left knee shot up, aiming for Axel’s ribs.


    Axel twisted, redirecting the attack with a perfectly timed deflection.


    Dante’s eyes flickered with amusement. "Cute."


    Then—he adjusted mid-motion, twisting into a spinning back kick.


    Axel’s body moved on instinct.


    Jazz footwork.


    Instead of dodging back, he moved into the attack—just past the impact zone.


    The kick barely grazed his chest as Axel slipped inside Dante’s guard—


    And struck.


    His palm slammed into Dante’s ribs, targeting a pressure point.


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    Dante staggered.


    Axel moved to capitalize—


    But Fenrath was already there.


    The Direwolf snapped at him, claws slashing toward his throat.


    Axel barely managed to jerk away, but one of the obsidian-tipped claws raked across his shoulder.


    Pain exploded down his arm.


    The crowd erupted.


    <hr>


    A New Sound is Born


    Tempo landed beside Axel, gripping his guitar-axe, his tail flicking.


    "Okay," Tempo muttered. "This guy hits like a damn tank."


    Axel exhaled. "Yeah. Gotta break his rhythm."


    Tempo cracked his knuckles.


    "Then let’s switch things up."


    He adjusted his stance, fingers flexing over the guitar-axe’s frets.


    The usual blues and jazz fusion wasn’t going to cut it.


    This fight needed something... bigger.


    Something louder.


    Tempo grinned.


    "Guess it’s time for a solo."


    And then—


    He played.


    <hr>


    The Power of a Solo


    The moment Tempo’s fingers danced across the strings, the air shifted.


    This wasn’t just music anymore.


    This was a storm.


    A furious eruption of sound, faster and sharper than anything before.


    The crowd felt it instantly.


    The stadium trembled as the first solo ripped through the battlefield.


    Dante winced.


    Even Fenrath faltered.


    Axel’s eyes widened.


    Tempo wasn’t just playing music.


    He was shaping the fight.


    The melody was unpredictable, forcing Dante to react instead of attack.


    Axel moved with it, syncing his movements to the chaotic, lightning-fast rhythm.


    Dante threw another brutal punch—


    But Axel was already gone.


    He wasn’t dodging anymore.


    He was dancing.


    Sliding past every attack, weaving through the openings like a fighter who had no set pattern.


    Dante gritted his teeth.


    "Quit running, Mercer!"


    Axel smirked.


    "Quit missing, Voss."


    Dante snarled—and came in swinging.


    <hr>


    Counterattack: Breaking the Beast


    Dante’s next attack was pure rage.


    A full-force haymaker, backed by raw power.


    But Axel saw it.


    Felt it.


    And knew exactly how to break it.


    He waited until the last second—


    Then stepped inside the attack.


    His palm shot forward, striking Dante’s elbow mid-swing.


    Redirecting the force.


    Dante’s arm snapped sideways, the impact throwing off his balance—


    And Axel didn’t hesitate.


    He pivoted, bringing his knee straight into Dante’s gut.


    Dante coughed hard, staggering back.


    The crowd lost their minds.


    But Axel wasn’t done.


    Tempo’s solo crescendoed, the soundwaves shattering the battlefield’s tempo.


    Dante’s control was gone.


    And Fenrath?


    Completely off-beat.


    Axel lunged—not for Dante, but for the Direwolf.


    Fenrath snapped at him, teeth flashing—


    But Axel’s fist collided with its skull first.


    BOOM.


    The impact sent Fenrath crashing to the ground.


    Silence.


    Then—


    The announcer’s voice boomed.


    <blockquote>


    "MATCH OVER! WINNER: AXEL MERCER!"


    </blockquote>


    The stadium exploded.


    <hr>


    The Aftermath


    Dante sat on the ground, still catching his breath, watching Axel with wild eyes.


    Then—he laughed.


    "Mercer," he muttered, shaking his head. "You crazy bastard."


    Axel offered a hand.


    Dante stared at it—then grinned, taking it.


    "You’re the real deal," Dante admitted.


    Axel smirked. "Took you long enough to figure that out."


    Dante chuckled. "Next time, I’m not holding back."


    Axel’s smirk widened. "Next time, neither am I."


    As he stepped out of the arena, the crowd still chanting his name, Tempo slung his guitar-axe over his back, whistling.


    "Well," Tempo said, "that was fun."


    Axel exhaled.


    His body ached, his mind still spinning from the fight—


    But he had won.


    And as he looked toward the tournament brackets, seeing the names of his next potential opponents, he knew—


    The real battles were just beginning.