Chapter 290: The Conspiracy Unveiled! Fury Unleashed! A Galactic War Is Inevitable!
After completing the elaborate ceremonial rituals of conferring titles, the imperial delegation came to a standstill beneath the high platform.
The Emperor's envoy raised his head to look up at Duke Leto. His gaze brimmed with arrogance, and his voice carried an air of conceit—as though he were the one about to receive an imperial honor:
"By the grace of Shaddam IV of House Corrino, I stand before you today as an emissary of the Imperial Court."
"Present to witness this investiture are members of the Royal Household, a representative from the Spacing Guild, and a Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit."
The envoy, still unaware of what was about to unfold, continued reciting the formalities. He introduced the distinguished guests as a display of the empire's legitimacy and authority.
Only after this did he move on to the main event.
"The Emperor's decree!"
The envoy unfurled a prepared scroll and proclaimed to the assembled members of House Atreides:
"House Atreides shall henceforth take possession of Arrakis, assume governance, and oversee the spice trade!"
Once the words were spoken, he turned to Duke Leto, expecting the usual response—a respectful acceptance of the decree and a swift conclusion to the ceremony so both parties could get on with their respective duties. For his part, the envoy was eager to report back and be done with the mission.
But to everyone's shock, Duke Leto didn't follow the expected script. Instead of dutifully accepting the imperial decree with submissive gratitude, he stood tall, and with a cold tone declared:
"If that brat Shaddam of Padishah had any decency, he would've come here himself to bestow honors upon House Atreides. Sending you lapdogs all the way here? What a disgraceful lack of sincerity."
The moment he spoke, everyone apart from the Atreides guards and senior officers was stunned. The royal envoy and his entourage gaped at Leto in disbelief, unsure whether they'd misheard or if the Duke had suddenly lost his mind.
Padishah was the Emperor's name. To call him by name in public was already an act of grave disrespect. But to add "that brat" on top of it—and suggest the Emperor should personally grant the honor?
That was pure treason.
And yet, House Atreides had always been known for their restraint and loyalty. Why would they suddenly make such a drastic move?
Where had Leto found the courage to defy the imperial delegation—to openly insult Emperor Shaddam before the eyes of the entire court?
Before the envoy could even respond or reprimand Leto for his blatant insolence, the Duke fired another verbal salvo:
"For ten thousand years, the Galactic Empire has endured. But tensions among the Great Houses have only worsened. In these trying times, it is House Atreides that, through the Landsraad Union, has united the noble families."
"But that old dog Padishah, afraid that we might use the Union as a platform for rebellion, has been scheming endlessly to eliminate House Atreides!"
With that statement, Leto laid bare the ugly truth behind the empire's politics—the festering conflicts among the major houses, now dragged into the light.
Everyone knew that the leader of the Landsraad Union was none other than House Atreides. It was common knowledge that every House sought to use the Union to further their interests, and to bleed whatever favors they could from the throne.
But no one ever said these things aloud. They all played along, maintaining a façade of civility to uphold the illusion of imperial authority—for after all, the Corrino family still ruled the Empire.
Now, Duke Leto had torn away that façade, exposing the raw wounds and power struggles underneath. His words made one thing unmistakably clear: House Atreides intended to rebel.
And sure enough, the Emperor's envoy, the Guild representative, the royal observers, and the Reverend Mother from the Bene Gesserit all stood frozen in disbelief.
If Leto's earlier comments had merely scratched the Emperor's pride, this next declaration pierced straight through his heart.
Power—nothing mattered more to Shaddam IV. And Leto had deliberately jabbed at the sorest spot: the fractures between the noble Houses and the Imperial family. This was no longer just defiance—this was sedition.
The implications were entirely different.
A Duke insulting the Emperor could be ignored—better to let it slide and avoid drawing attention.
So he hurled an insult—so what? The Emperor wouldn't lose an arm over it.
But treason? That was an open challenge to the throne.
Yet Leto wasn't finished.
"That brat Padishah only dared lure us Atreides to Arrakis so he could have House Harkonnen and the Sardaukar forces wipe us out."
"If he had even a shred of backbone, he'd bring his army directly to Caladan and face us in open combat—let's see whose warriors are stronger!"
"But no—he'd rather use Harkonnen to pit us against each other while he reaps the rewards from behind the scenes like a filthy vulture."
"A coward like that, and he calls himself Emperor of the Galactic Empire? Disgusting!"
High atop the platform, Duke Leto bellowed these words with fury, under the shocked yet admiring gaze of his son Paul. Below, he raged at the imperial delegation, exposing the Emperor's treachery and despicable tactics for all to hear.
His fearless outburst revealed Shaddam IV's plot in full—and the contemptible depths he was willing to sink to.
And in response, the Atreides guards gripped their weapons in growing anger, turning them toward the imperial envoy's party.
At Leto's command, they would not hesitate to strike.
The square grew heavy with tension. Killing intent thickened in the air, so stifling it became hard to breathe.
At that moment, within the imperial envoy's delegation, Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam was urgently trying to signal Lady Jessica with her eyes—pleading silently for an explanation.
Gaius Helen Mohiam was the spiritual leader of the current Bene Gesserit, the Emperor's official Truthsayer, and Jessica's biological mother and teacher.
Seeing the situation spiral toward chaos, she desperately sought information—why had Duke Leto suddenly decided to commit treason?
But Jessica remained expressionless, offering no response, neither by word nor hand sign.
The truth was, after long contemplation, Jessica had finally made her decision: she would abandon the Bene Gesserit breeding program and stand with her son Paul and her husband Leto.
After all, there was no resisting overwhelming power. Compared to the might and resources provided by the Cosmic Megacorp, the Bene Gesserit simply couldn't compete.
During this time, Leto had held further negotiations with Song Zhaomei, a top executive of the Megacorp.
Leto had agreed to all their terms—pledging support for Li Ang , the Megacorp's CEO, to become the God-Emperor and granting them full rights to harvest the spice.
In exchange, House Atreides would be granted a significant portion of the power pie once the imperial power structure crumbled.
In other words, during Li Ang 's absence, House Atreides would effectively become the ruling power of the Dune universe. Not in name, perhaps—but in actual authority, they'd rival the Emperor himself.
Second only to the Megacorp!
And once Paul inherited Leto's legacy, he would become the most powerful noble in the galaxy.
As long as they didn't rebel against the Megacorp, Paul's status would be unparalleled—second only to Li Ang himself.
With this new alliance in place, House Atreides would gain a foothold in the upcoming interstellar trade network.
Spice, suspensor stones, rare minerals, gold—House Atreides would have a share in it all.
And when you can win just by lying low—why rock the boat?
Besides, Jessica knew full well why Gaius Helen Mohiam had really come: to test whether Paul was truly the Kwisatz Haderach.
The "Prophesied One" was the Bene Gesserit's ultimate goal. But in truth, the so-called Kwisatz Haderach was just a puppet groomed to seize the throne on their behalf.
The "messiah" prophecy was merely a smokescreen—a tool to place a genetically tailored emperor under their control.
Jessica had always understood this. And a puppet king, manipulated behind the scenes, would never match the freedom and power of a real Duke with true authority.
What's more, once the Megacorp monopolized Arrakis, the Bene Gesserit would lose access to the spice—and without it, they couldn't train new Truthsayers. Before long, they'd fade into obscurity.
Whether organizations like the Bene Gesserit, Mentats, or the Navigators survived in the future would depend entirely on the whims of the Megacorp—or perhaps, House Atreides.
There was no reason to remain loyal to a doomed cause.
With that clarity, Jessica ignored Gaius Helen Mohiam's desperate signals and silently stood by Duke Leto's side.
"You dare speak such treason, Duke Atreides? Have you forgotten the benevolence and favor the great Emperor of the Galaxy has shown you?"
The imperial envoy's earlier arrogance had completely vanished. Surrounded by murderous guards, his forehead and back were now drenched in cold sweat.
At this critical juncture, the imperial envoy, though trembling with fear, had no choice but to press on and address Leto firmly:
"Duke, I trust you understand that the Emperor's wrath can burn through even the strongest of fortresses—even all of Caladan!"
"Of course, I imagine some vile schemer must have poisoned your perception of His Majesty's favor. But as long as you are willing to repent, the Emperor, in his boundless mercy, will surely grant you pardon."
The envoy was fully aware of how precarious their current position was. He knew that accusing or condemning Leto for rebellion would be utterly pointless.
Their lives were now entirely in Leto's hands. If they angered him, he could slaughter the entire delegation right here in Arrakeen—and that would be the end of them.
As a representative of the royal court, the only thing he could do now was attempt to exert moral and political pressure on Leto in the Emperor's name, while reassuring him that as long as he backed down, everything could still be resolved peacefully.
After all, surviving this encounter and returning safely was their top priority. Once they were back, there would be ample time to settle scores with House Atreides.
Leto gave no response to the envoy's veiled threats and false kindness. Instead, after sweeping the group with a contemptuous glance, he fixed his gaze on the representatives from the Spacing Guild.
Among the delegation, the Guild stood out. Clad in elaborate garments and wearing helmet-like apparatuses that emitted a red mist, they looked distinctly alien.
That red mist was atomized spice, processed into vapor form. Through those devices, they could continuously inhale the substance.
Throughout the entire confrontation, the Guild representatives had remained unusually calm, as if the brewing rebellion had nothing to do with them.
And perhaps it didn't. No matter who ruled the Empire, the Guild's Navigators were indispensable. Without them, interstellar travel would collapse. The entire structure of the Imperium depended on their service.
Which was why these Navigators were confident House Atreides wouldn't dare lay a finger on them.
But this time, they had miscalculated.
Leto's eyes locked onto the spice-breathing Navigators, and the murderous intent in his gaze grew unmistakably clear.
Spice was a highly addictive substance. The Navigators were all dependent on it—addicts who couldn't live without their fix.
If the spice supply was cut off, their suffering would be instant and unbearable. Who knew what chaos they might unleash in their desperation?
Rather than wait for these twisted creatures to turn violent, perhaps it was better to eliminate them now—clean, final, and decisive.
Sensing the killing intent rising in Leto's eyes, the Navigators grew visibly tense.
They had just glimpsed their own deaths—seen it in the flickering threads of possible futures.
"No…!"
"You cannot kill us! If you do, the Spacing Guild will blacklist House Atreides forever! You will never receive aid from any Navigator again!"
One of the Guild representatives cried out in terror. These spice-saturated Navigators possessed limited prescience. Though their foresight wasn't as precise or far-reaching as that of the Bene Gesserit, their abilities were temporarily heightened while inhaling spice.
Leto gave a cold, scornful smile. He understood full well that killing a few Navigators here would achieve nothing. If he was going to strike, he would have to wipe out the Guild entirely.
"Relax. House Atreides has no interest in drawing blades against lackeys like you. Our true enemies are House Corrino and the Harkonnens."
With a calm expression, Leto descended from the dais and slowly approached the imperial envoy, who was so paralyzed with fear that his legs refused to move.
Leto snatched the scroll from the envoy's trembling hands and, without hesitation, stamped it with House Atreides' seal—formally accepting the Emperor's decree.
"I, Leto Atreides, accept the Emperor's edict."
The envoy was stunned by the sudden shift. Just moments ago, Leto had been raging against the Emperor—now he was accepting the imperial decree? What was he playing at?
Based on everything Leto had said and done, wasn't he supposed to execute the delegation and openly declare rebellion?
Why accept the decree now?
"I'm sparing your lives so you can return and deliver a message to that mongrel Emperor of yours: if he wants to destroy House Atreides on Arrakis, then let him try!"
Leto raised the scroll high, turned to the soldiers surrounding him, and declared, "This is our moment—to show House Corrino and House Harkonnen exactly what we're made of."
The instant his words fell, the guards around him erupted with a thunderous roar, responding to his call with unwavering fervor.
The ground-shaking cries and the howling winds made the members of the imperial delegation shudder with dread.
With Leto in such a defiant and fanatical state, a brutal civil war among the noble houses of the Imperium now seemed all but inevitable.
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