NOVEL NEXT Chapter 438: Dying Sun
Maren appeared above them, her sword glowing with compressed probability.
For an instant, every number, every equation scrawled across reality bent towards her strike.
The blade descended, unavoidable, inevitable, absolute.
Atreides looked up, his grin disappeared for what he saw.
The blade struck his chest, cutting through aura, light, and flesh, driving deep into him.
Fire and probability clashed violently, reality fracturing under the collision.
For a moment, Maren thought she'd done it. She thought the equation had been solved.
Atreides staggered, a guttural roar ripping from his throat as flames erupted around the wound.
He caught the sword with both hands, fire melting steel, probability cracking under the sheer will he brought to bear.
"NO MORE NUMBERS!" he bellowed, and with a flare of burning power, he shattered inevitability itself.
The equations dissolved into ash, Maren's sword snapped in two, and the shockwave sent her tumbling through the air.
Kant shouted, his chains trying to cover her, but Atreides was already moving.
He lunged through the smoke, faster than the eye could follow, his blazing arm cutting through the darkness.
Chains snapped like brittle twigs, and Kant staggered back, blood streaming down his chest.
Maren hit the ground hard, rolling across the shattered cobblestones.
She rose, battered but unbroken, gripping the broken half of her sword. She met Atreides's blazing eyes and set her jaw.
"You'll burn out," she said. "And I'll make sure I'm the one who snuffs you out."
She charged, probability reasserting itself, her broken sword glowing with one final equation.
Atreides met her head-on, fire swirling around his fists.
Their clash sent a shockwave through the air.
For a heartbeat, they were locked, sunlight and probability grinding against one another, neither yielding.
Then Atreides laughed. "You're strong, Elder. But you're not enough."
His hand shot forward, bypassing her blade, bypassing her web of numbers, and gripping her throat in a fist of molten fire.
Probability bent to save her, but probability itself burned in his grasp.
Maren's eyes widened, her lips parting in a silent gasp. Her armor melted, her skin charred, her probability fields dissolved like mist in the heat.
She tried to lift her sword, but her arm would not move.
Kant screamed her name, chains lashing desperately, but Atreides squeezed.
There was a sound like the shattering of glass and the roaring of fire. The light of probability winked out.
Maren's body went limp, burning in his grasp. Atreides flung her aside like ash, her broken form crashing into the ruins.
The battlefield froze. A moment of silence filled the air.
Atreides turned, flames dripping from his skin, eyes blazing with triumph and madness.
His grin was wide, teeth gleaming like knives in the light of his own inferno.
"One shadow down," he growled, turning toward Kant. "Now it's your turn."
Kant staggered forward, chains trailing behind him like dying serpents, his face twisted with horror.
His eyes never left Maren's body, his composure cracking.
"Maren…" The name tore out of him, ragged, hoarse. His staff trembled in his grip.
Atreides threw back his head and laughed, the sound rolling through the ruined layer like thunder.
"She thought she could cut the sun. She was wrong." He turned, fire dripping from his skin like blood, and grinned through the haze.
"You're alone now, scholar. Your chains won't save you."
Kant's lips trembled, but his grief did not break him. Instead, it fueled him.
His staff dug into the stone, runes igniting one after another until the air shook with their hum.
His chains rose, no longer writhing shadows, but serpents of pure intent, snapping their jaws in silence.
Atreides noticed the shift, his grin flickering just a fraction.
"Ah. Rage. Finally." His flames surged brighter, skin splitting as molten light poured through the cracks. "Let's see how long it lasts."
They met in the middle of the broken district.
Atreides swung, his fists igniting shockwaves that carved canyons through the cobblestones.
Kant's chains lashed back, intercepting each blow, shuddering with each impact.
Again and again, Atreides hammered forward.
Every punch cracked the ground beneath them, causing great damage, but Kant stood his ground.
His chains looped around Atreides's limbs, snapped around his chest, coiled like constrictors.
Atreides roared, breaking them with bursts of fire, sending fragments scattering like falling stars.
He lunged, his fist clipping Kant's shoulder, nearly driving him to his knees.
The Elder spat blood, coughed, and lifted his staff again.
Chains erupted anew.
Dozens. Hundreds. A tidal wave of black links swarmed across the battlefield, blotting out the ruined sun overhead.
They coiled around Atreides's legs, wrapped his arms, and pierced his shoulders.
Each carried the grief of Maren's fall, the fury of a scholar stripped of certainty.
Atreides fought like a mad god. He burned them away by the dozen, tore them apart with sheer strength, screamed until the mountains echoed.
But for every chain he broke, ten more rose.
"Fall," Kant rasped, his voice breaking, his eyes bloodshot. "Fall, damn you!"
The chains dragged Atreides to his knees.
The light pouring from him sputtered. He threw his head back, roared to the sky, and burst his aura outward in one final surge.
The shockwave flattened everything in its radius. Towers toppled, soldiers on both sides were vaporized, and the earth itself buckled.
For a moment, it seemed Atreides had torn free.
But then the chains tightened again.
One wrapped his throat. Another pierced his chest. Dozens more bound him in a cocoon of darkness. A cage for the sun.
Kant staggered forward, raising his staff, his tears burning as they slid down his face.
The chains glowed black-red, tightening until the sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing filled the air.
Atreides's eyes, once blazing with joy and fury, dimmed. His laughter turned into a rasp, his flames guttering out like a dying star.
He met Kant's gaze one last time, and for the first time, there was no grin. Only defiance.
Then the chains constricted.
The light of the sun within him went out. His body collapsed inward, crushed and burned to ash.
When the chains finally loosened, nothing remained but a scattering of molten fragments and a smoking crater.
Kant stood in the silence, chest heaving, his chains falling limp around him. His knees buckled, but he forced himself to stay upright.
He turned once, his eyes falling on the ruins where Maren had lain.
Her body was gone now, swallowed by the destruction. His chains swayed uselessly at his sides.
"Rest, Maren." Kant closed his eyes. "I avenged you."