NOVEL NEXT Chapter 398: Death Of The Wardens
Vaen raised a hand, and the light around him brightened. The orbs in the chamber flared, the walls shining with radiant energy.
"I won't submit to traitors."
Maren rolled her eyes. "You say that like we're supposed to applaud you. You don't have a choice Vaen."
Kant adjusted his gloves, eyes gleaming behind his mask. "His light is holding, Aurelius. It's taking longer than expected."
"Of course it is." Aurelius said with a nod. "He's Rank 9. His soul's woven into the very essence of his powers. It'll take longer for the Shard's silence to smother him… but it will."
Vaen didn't wait for their pity. He moved, as fast as light.
Beams of pure radiance exploded from the floor, slicing towards the three Elders.
Kant stepped back, letting shadows swallow him. Maren threw up a shield, her powers manifesting as probability dampening energy that refracted the light away from her.
Aurelius raised one hand, and time warped.
The light froze in the air, then shattered into harmless particles.
Vaen's expression twisted. He flicked both hands, drawing power from the glowstones embedded across the chamber. They pulsed with life, feeding him.
For a moment, he glowed like a star.
But the light was flickering.
His powers were still being eaten away.
"You think the others won't stop you?" Vaen spat. "That the people of Carthage will just bow their heads?"
Aurelius stepped closer. "By the time anyone realizes what's happening, we'll already control the city. You should have joined us, Vaen. You're a generator. That's all we need you for."
Vaen screamed and unleashed another blinding wave of light, but this one was thinner and dimmer.
Maren struck from the side, a lashing band of compressed numbers spiraling through the air, wrapping around Vaen's legs. He staggered.
Kant moved next, shadows forming into chains that wrapped around the Elder's arms.
And finally, Aurelius appeared behind him, placing one hand on the base of Vaen's skull.
Vaen's eyes widened in panic.
"No—"
But the word never left his lips.
Power surged from Aurelius' palm, crawling into Vaen's mind like acid.
The Elder of Light convulsed. His body jerked, his mouth open in a silent scream.
Then… he froze.
The glow around him dulled to a soft, steady pulse.
His eyes were blank. Empty.
Aurelius stepped back.
"He's gone." He said. "I've erased his mind. He's just a husk now."
Maren let go of her ability. The bands dissolved into thin air.
Kant approached, tapping Vaen's shoulder. The man didn't respond. His expression was vacant, his breathing steady but shallow.
"Perfect." Kant murmured. "We can still draw on his powers, as long as the body and soul remain. His mind was the only obstacle."
Aurelius turned to Kant. "You know what to do. Keep him under control. Feed him blood if needed, but no more than is necessary."
Kant nodded. "He'll light the city until we no longer need light."
Without another word, he wrapped a shadowy tether around Vaen's husk and led him out of the chamber.
Aurelius watched them go, then turned to Maren. "We also have the husk of the Warden of Water to keep the water moving through the pipes. We've taken care of the Wardens of Agriculture and Money."
He grinned.
"Just two more to go. We finish this by sunrise."
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Aurelius walked through the winding staircase carved deep into the rock, walking until he stepped through a narrow arched threshold and entered the chamber of the Blood Tree.
It was vast, wider than any cathedral, with its ceiling stretching so high that even the light orbs embedded into the stone could not reach the top.
The chamber was carved like an upsidedown bowl into the mountain, with roots spreading through every wall like veins in flesh. In the center, rising like a monument carved by ancient hands, stood the Blood Tree.
Its bark was a dark, oily crimson. The roots spread in all directions, cracking stone, curling around forgotten bones, and looping back up into the air like the coils of a sleeping beast.
The vibrant red leaves swayed without wind, releasing the faintest whispers of power into the air before been smothered by the silence.
On one of the thickest roots that jutted from the ground like a throne, the Warden of Power sat with his head bowed, slowly sharpening his sword with a small whetstone.
The blade gleamed despite the chamber's dim light, and each scrape of stone on metal sent sparks flying through the air, even if the sound never left the blade.
Aurelius stopped before him.
No one spoke for a long time. Not until Aurelius released the silence in a small radius around them.
Then, without lifting his eyes, the Warden of Power asked, "Why are you doing this, Aurelius?"
His voice was tired. Not surprised. Not angry. Just old.
Aurelius took a slow step forward. "Because we were never equals, Leon. We only pretended to be."
Leon snorted, still not looking up. "You think this coup will change that? You think standing on a pile of corpses will make everyone respect you?"
"I don't need their respect." Aurelius said. "I need their obedience. And to get it, I have to remind them that we, our families, have always been the spine of Carthage."
"While you and the others taxed the people, we protected them. While you hoarded wealth, we bled for this city."
"And now you bleed the city instead." Leon muttered. His whetstone paused for a beat. "How many of them did you kill, Aurelius?"
"All of them," came the cold reply. "The other wardens are dead. Their trusted lieutenants too. Their halls are burning. Maren and Kant are cleaning up as we speak. Your household was the last."
Leon flinched, just slightly.
Aurelius gave him no time to react. "They're gone, Leon. You're the only one left. You sat here with your precious Tree while the rest of Carthage was reshaped."
There was a long silence between them.
Finally, Leon sighed. He set the sword down across his knees.
"I can't stop you." He said. "Not while my power's gone. The silence took it hours ago. I'm no longer a Knight, just an old man who spent too long holding onto a title that didn't matter."
Aurelius said nothing.
"I suppose you'll take the Tree next." Leon added quietly.
Aurelius stepped forward again. "The Tree serves the strong, Leon. It doesn't care who stands before it, as long as they are worthy."
Leon chuckled softly. "Then I suppose it's already yours."
He closed his eyes. "I won't beg."
"You never did." Aurelius said.
There was a flash of silver, and the Warden of Power slumped forward, the sword slipping from his lap and clattering against the root.
His head fell to the ground, and a soft rustle passed through the Blood Tree's leaves as his blood fed it, as if it were acknowledging the end of one of its oldest stewards.
Aurelius watched the body for a moment. Then he turned, cloak sweeping behind him, and began to walk toward the base of the tree.
There was no triumph in his expression. Leon had been a mentor.
There was only one expression on his face as he gazed up at the Blood Tree.
Only purpose.