Norway Chess, June 2025. Round six brought one of those duels that promised something special even before the first move. On one side, Gukesh: the new world champion at just 19. On the other, Magnus Carlsen: world number one and, for many, the greatest player of the century.
The game began evenly, but as they entered the middlegame, Carlsen took control. His position improved move by move, and it wasn't long before he achieved a major advantage. It was close to decisive. It seemed only a matter of time.
But in chess, the better position doesn't always win. When the clock began to press and tension rose with every move, Gukesh, instead of collapsing, found an unexpected sequence. No one saw it coming. It was a risky decision, yes, but also full of ideas. The kind that doesn’t come from cold calculation but from a hunch. And that changed everything.
52.Nd7!
52.Nd7! — A move of great courage
With this move, Gukesh gave up simpler paths and invited his opponent into an extremely delicate ending: knight versus two connected central pawns. A dangerous terrain, where even the slightest mistake could cost the full point.
52...Ne2+?
Carlsen opted for a direct continuation, though probably not the best one. Gukesh, with admirable calm, captured without hesitation:
53.Rxe2+ Kxe2 54.Nxf8
54.Nxf8 — The endgame is underway
What followed was a lesson in technique under pressure:
54...d4 55.Ne6
White plays 55.Ne6
The knight returns to the fight, seeking the best way to prevent promotion in time.
55...d3 56.Nc5!
White plays 56.Nc5!
56...Ke3
Instead of pushing the 'd' pawn immediately, Black goes for this preventative move, bringing the king closer to block the white knight from reaching e4, a square from which it could seriously interfere.
If instead Black had played 56...d2?, White would reply with 57.Ne4!, which doesn’t stop promotion directly but makes it much less effective.
And if Black insisted with 57...d1=Q (or 57...d1=R), White could play 58.Nc3+ followed by Nxd1, and then 58.h5, securing a decisive advantage.
57.Na4!
White plays 57.Na4!
This knight leap is naturally the only resource available to stop the queen’s pawn from promoting.
57...e4
Black plays 57...e4
After this powerful advance by Magnus’s central pawns, promotion seems inevitable. Tarrasch once wrote that “before the endgame, the gods have placed the middlegame.” I’d dare to add, reverently and with a touch of humour, that after the middlegame, the gods placed the endgame. Because some endings aren’t just conclusions; they’re revelations.
58.h5 gxh5 59.gxh5 Kd2
Black plays 59...Kd2
Magnus steps off the e-file to clear the way for his king’s pawn. He might have been expecting 60.h6? e3 61.h7 e2 62.h8=Q e1=Q+. But Gukesh, in this ending, was playing for more than a draw.
60.Nb2!
White plays 60.Nb2!
60...e3 61.Nc4+
Anyone unaware of the context might think this was composed: a sequence of moves so precise, it’s hard to believe they happened over the board. The pieces seem to move as if following a choreography, as though everything had been written in advance.
The ending feels like something from a study, created to showcase harmony between beauty and logic. That white knight from f8 ends up on c4 just in time to capture the king’s pawn and stop promotion.
But no one came up with this sitting comfortably on a sofa. It happened right there, over the board, with the clock ticking and adrenaline running high. One of those flashes of brilliance that appear when you stop thinking and trust your instincts, when intuition shouts louder than reason and the game, without intending to, becomes something beautiful.
61...Ke2 62.Kf4 [1–0]
This impeccable sequence sealed the victory after more than five hours of battle. Carlsen resigned immediately. It was a display of surgical precision and courage, worthy of the player who now rightfully wears the world chess crown.
Courage at the Right Moment
Norway Chess, June 2025. Round six brought one of those duels that promised something special even before the first move. On one side, Gukesh: the new world champion at just 19. On the other, Magnus Carlsen: world number one and, for many, the greatest player of the century.
The game began evenly, but as they entered the middlegame, Carlsen took control. His position improved move by move, and it wasn't long before he achieved a major advantage. It was close to decisive. It seemed only a matter of time.
But in chess, the better position doesn't always win. When the clock began to press and tension rose with every move, Gukesh, instead of collapsing, found an unexpected sequence. No one saw it coming. It was a risky decision, yes, but also full of ideas. The kind that doesn’t come from cold calculation but from a hunch. And that changed everything.
52.Nd7!
With this move, Gukesh gave up simpler paths and invited his opponent into an extremely delicate ending: knight versus two connected central pawns. A dangerous terrain, where even the slightest mistake could cost the full point.
52...Ne2+?
Carlsen opted for a direct continuation, though probably not the best one. Gukesh, with admirable calm, captured without hesitation:
53.Rxe2+ Kxe2 54.Nxf8
What followed was a lesson in technique under pressure:
54...d4 55.Ne6
The knight returns to the fight, seeking the best way to prevent promotion in time.
55...d3 56.Nc5!
56...Ke3
Instead of pushing the 'd' pawn immediately, Black goes for this preventative move, bringing the king closer to block the white knight from reaching e4, a square from which it could seriously interfere. If instead Black had played 56...d2?, White would reply with 57.Ne4!, which doesn’t stop promotion directly but makes it much less effective. And if Black insisted with 57...d1=Q (or 57...d1=R), White could play 58.Nc3+ followed by Nxd1, and then 58.h5, securing a decisive advantage.
57.Na4!
This knight leap is naturally the only resource available to stop the queen’s pawn from promoting.
57...e4
After this powerful advance by Magnus’s central pawns, promotion seems inevitable. Tarrasch once wrote that “before the endgame, the gods have placed the middlegame.” I’d dare to add, reverently and with a touch of humour, that after the middlegame, the gods placed the endgame. Because some endings aren’t just conclusions; they’re revelations.
58.h5 gxh5 59.gxh5 Kd2
Magnus steps off the e-file to clear the way for his king’s pawn. He might have been expecting 60.h6? e3 61.h7 e2 62.h8=Q e1=Q+. But Gukesh, in this ending, was playing for more than a draw.
60.Nb2!
60...e3 61.Nc4+
Anyone unaware of the context might think this was composed: a sequence of moves so precise, it’s hard to believe they happened over the board. The pieces seem to move as if following a choreography, as though everything had been written in advance.
The ending feels like something from a study, created to showcase harmony between beauty and logic. That white knight from f8 ends up on c4 just in time to capture the king’s pawn and stop promotion.
But no one came up with this sitting comfortably on a sofa. It happened right there, over the board, with the clock ticking and adrenaline running high. One of those flashes of brilliance that appear when you stop thinking and trust your instincts, when intuition shouts louder than reason and the game, without intending to, becomes something beautiful.
61...Ke2 62.Kf4 [1–0]
This impeccable sequence sealed the victory after more than five hours of battle. Carlsen resigned immediately. It was a display of surgical precision and courage, worthy of the player who now rightfully wears the world chess crown.