CHAPTER 1200: QUEEN OF MALEVOLENCE.

Ash drifted like snow over what remained of the city. The rain had stopped, replaced by a suffocating stillness that pressed against every surface. The air shimmered faintly with residual energy, fractured pockets of unstable magic crackling along the ruins. In the distance, the crater still glowed faintly, its edges warped into blackened glass.

Lucien stood near its rim, one hand resting against his knee as he caught his breath. His hair clung to his forehead, soaked with sweat and blood. The glow in his weapon had faded, reduced to a dull ember pulsing weakly within the fractured metal.

Across from him, Selene pushed herself upright. Her cloak was gone, burned away during the last exchange. She looked smaller without it, fragile even—but her eyes were sharp, and the faint shimmer of power clung to her like mist.

"Still standing," Lucien muttered, his voice hoarse. "You never know when to quit."

Selene spat blood into the dirt and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "And you never know when to stay down."

Lucien smirked faintly. "Then I guess we’re both idiots."

The words hung between them like a verdict neither wanted to claim. Lightning flickered somewhere behind the clouds, its light reflecting off the warped steel fragments embedded in the ground.

Selene drew in a slow breath, her chest rising with effort. "You should’ve walked away when you had the chance."

"You would’ve followed anyway."

"Maybe," she said, voice low. "Maybe not. But now look at this place—there’s nothing left."

Lucien finally looked up at her fully. His expression was unreadable. "There was nothing left long before we ever started fighting."

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched on, broken only by the distant groan of collapsing metal. Then, almost imperceptibly, Selene shifted her stance. The faint glow of her aura reignited—weak, but deliberate.

Lucien sighed, straightening. "You’re really going to push this until one of us dies, aren’t you?"

"That’s the only way it ever ends."

Her words came like a whisper carried by the wind, and then she was gone—her form dissolving into a flicker of motion. Lucien barely raised his guard before she appeared behind him, her blade flashing.

He spun, catching the strike with the flat of his own weapon. The clash sent a shockwave rippling outward, tossing debris into the air. Lucien countered with a sweeping kick that forced Selene back, but she recovered instantly, twisting midair to land on a broken beam.

Before she could regain footing, he fired a blast of golden energy from his free hand. It ripped through the air like a spear, striking the beam and shattering it. Selene leapt again, conjuring a barrier of light midair to redirect the blast away from her.

Lucien met her descent with a slash, and their blades connected once more, the sound sharp and metallic. Sparks danced between them, brief stars against the smoke-dark sky.

Selene pushed against his strength, her expression grim. "You’ve been holding back."

Lucien’s voice was quiet. "And you haven’t?"

Their blades locked for a heartbeat before both pulled away, creating distance. The ground between them was a patchwork of molten stone and shattered metal, the scars of their duel stretching out in all directions.

Selene wiped the blood from her cheek, breathing heavily. "You think this will fix anything?"

Lucien didn’t answer. He simply lifted his weapon again, eyes cold and steady.

Selene’s magic surged—bright arcs of white energy gathering around her body, snapping like chains pulled too tight. The air trembled with the force of it, and her shadow stretched unnaturally across the ground.

Lucien steadied himself, energy coalescing around his blade. The cracks along its edge glowed gold once more, light spilling from every fracture.

They moved at the same time.

The collision was violent—pure energy meeting condensed will. The shockwave ripped through the landscape, tearing apart the last standing walls and throwing chunks of debris skyward. For an instant, it looked as if the air itself was breaking apart, fissures of light spiderwebbing outward.

Lucien ducked under a strike, retaliated with a brutal elbow to Selene’s side, then caught her arm before she could fall back. In one motion, he hurled her across the crater. She hit the ground hard but rolled, propelling herself back upright with inhuman grace.

"Still pretending you’re doing this for the greater good?" she shouted across the distance.

Lucien’s jaw clenched. "I stopped pretending a long time ago."

Her response was to raise her hand skyward. The storm above stirred again, clouds twisting into a spiral. Threads of light poured downward, converging on her position, the sheer pressure forcing Lucien to brace himself against the force of it.

He raised his weapon horizontally, muttering through his teeth as he poured energy into it. Golden cracks webbed across the ground in concentric circles, each one pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.

Selene’s magic struck first. Bolts of condensed light rained down, each one detonating with the force of a bomb. Lucien deflected one, two, then was swallowed by the explosion of the third. Smoke and flame rolled outward, blotting out his figure.

Selene hesitated, chest heaving.

Then, through the haze, came the faint glint of gold.

Lucien emerged, cloak shredded, eyes burning with exhaustion and rage. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The runes etched into the ground around him ignited all at once, flaring upward in a dome of light that expanded like a living thing.

The dome slammed into Selene’s spell, and the collision lit the sky like a second sun.

Both of them screamed—not in pain, but in exertion—as the forces struggled for dominance.

The light swallowed everything.

When it faded, they were gone from sight—buried beneath the echo of their own destruction, their power still lingering like a wound that refused to close.

Only the storm remained, silent and unrelenting.

And from the heart of that silence, a faint sound broke through—the sharp, steady rhythm of footsteps. Someone was still alive.