A week had passed since the Shadow Crag fell, and the Crystal Palace buzzed with rebuilding efforts under a pale noon sky. Aelar Frostveil stood in the training yard, his dark blue frostweave armor freshly repaired, silver-white ponytail swaying as he sparred with a guard, sword flashing. Kaelith lounged nearby, silver-streaked fur glinting, glacial eyes tracking the bout—the five rune-stones, now locked in the palace vault, had silenced the Frost Depths, but unease lingered. Scouts reported strange disturbances north of the Frostspire: villages abandoned, mana warped, shadows moving without source.
Elara Glintfrost approached, her pale blue tunic crisp, staff glowing with the Wyrm core half's power, silver hair catching the light. "You're restless," she said, leaning on her staff. "Heard the scout reports?"
Aelar sheathed his sword. "Villages empty, mana twisted—not Order. Something new."
Torin Iceblade joined them, his Frost Boar, Gruk, snuffling at his side, icy spines razor-sharp from the core boost. "Gruk's nose says it's bad," he grunted, spear in hand. "Smells wrong—not frost, not blood."
Gorrim Icefang strode up, axe slung over his shoulder, Varg the Frost Hound prowling beside him, amber eyes glinting. "My hounds tracked it north—mana's sour, like rot," he growled. "What's stirring?"
Aelar trusted their instincts—Elara's magic, Torin's strength, and Gorrim's ferocity needed no push unless the plan demanded it. "Sylvara, scan," he thought, checking their progress.
Target: Elara Glintfrost
Ascension Tier: Grandmaster (Level 3)
Stats:
Strength: 54 (+2) Agility: 72 (+2) Intelligence: 71 (+1) Mana: 120 (+2)
Skills: Frost Weaving (Level 8) Mana Focus (Level 5) Staff Combat (Level 4)
Sylvara: Exalted nears—mana and strength key.
Target: Torin Iceblade
Ascension Tier: Grandmaster (Level 4)
Stats:
Strength: 78 (+2) Agility: 64 (+2) Intelligence: 50 (+1) Mana: 74 (+2)
Skills: Spear Mastery (Level 8) Beast Synergy (Level 5) Endurance (Level 5)
Companion: Gruk Stats: Strength 84 (+2), Agility 58 (+2)
Sylvara: Exalted in sight—speed and mana growth.
Target: Gorrim Icefang
Ascension Tier: Grandmaster (Level 2)
Stats:
Strength: 77 (+2) Agility: 52 (+2) Intelligence: 38 (+1) Mana: 54 (+2)
Skills: Axe Mastery (Level 8) Beast Command (Level 5) Resilience (Level 5)
Companion: Varg Stats: Strength 62 (+2), Agility 67 (+2)
Sylvara: Agility rising—mana for Exalted.
"Elara, keep mana sharp—big spells ahead," Aelar said. "Torin, speed with Gruk. Gorrim, Varg—stay quick."
Gorrim grinned. "Varg's itching to hunt."
Aelar nodded. "Good—north, now."
Theron's orders were clear: investigate the disturbances, thirty guards, Gorrim's hounds included. They rode out, Kaelith leading, the tundra stretching cold and silent.
The Void's Touch
By dusk, the squad reached a ruined village north of the Frostspire—huts collapsed, ice blackened, mana twisting the air like oil. Kaelith's growl deepened, hackles rising. Aelar dismounted, sword drawn. "This isn't frost magic," he said, eyeing the shadows. "Sylvara, scan."
Target: Void Wraith (Prime)
Race: Magical Beast (Void-Tainted)
Beast Tier: Prime (Level 10)
Stats:
Strength: 60 Agility: 75 Intelligence: 15 Mana: 50
Skills: Void Slash (Level 4): Shadow-infused claw strikes. Shadow Fade (Level 3): Brief invisibility. Mana Drain (Level 3): Siphons mana on hit.
Sylvara: Void-powered—target core, disrupt fade.
Three Void Wraiths materialized—spectral wolves, black as pitch, eyes glowing purple, claws dripping shadow. "New enemy!" Aelar shouted. "Hit them!"—no orders needed; his allies moved.
Aelar charged, Frost Shroud cloaking—Ice Crafting a spiked net mid-run, hurling it—one Wraith's Shadow Fade dodged, net grazing its flank. "Slippery!" he taunted, Swordsmanship slashing its side—shadows bled, mana hissing. Glacial Chains spiraled—not binding, but slashing its legs—frost clashed with void.
Elara darted left, Frost Weaving a frost lattice—two Wraiths tangled, her ice shards piercing one's core. "Stay visible!" she snapped, Mana Focus sharpening a frost spear, cracking its skull—Staff Combat parried a Void Slash, "Weak!"—agility fluid.
Torin roared, "Gruk, crush!" The Frost Boar's Spine Charge rammed a Wraith, spines sinking—Torin's Spear Mastery thrust, Beast Synergy piercing its chest. "Bleed shadow!" he bellowed, Endurance soaking a Mana Drain—mana flickered, Gruk biting its leg—shadows snapped.
Gorrim swung, "Varg, rip!" The Frost Hound's Frost Bite tore a Wraith's flank—Gorrim's Axe Mastery cleaved its spine, Resilience shrugging off a Void Slash—Varg darted, biting its throat. "Die!" he roared, blood hissing.
A Wraith's Mana Drain hit Aelar—mana tugged, but Mana Manipulation held—Frost Bite sank into its core, mana surging back. "Kaelith, now!"—only directing the wolf—the Frostwolf's Blizzard Charge tackled it, Ice Armor deflecting a claw, jaws tearing its neck—shadows dissolved. Aelar's Ice Crafting formed a hammer mid-air, Swordsmanship smashing its core—black blood sprayed, the Wraith collapsing, a dark core rolling free.
Elara's frost spear felled another, "Done!"—Torin's spear and Gruk's charge crushed the last, "Gone!" Aelar claimed the core, mana surging. "Sylvara, update."
Host: Aelar Frostveil
Ascension Tier: Exalted (Level 11)
Stats:
Strength: 125 (+3) Agility: 135 (+3) Intelligence: 100 (+2) Mana: 210 (+5)
Sylvara: Void threat rises—track the source.
The Rogue Faction
The village stilled, ten guards tending wounds. Aelar knelt by a blackened rune—void magic, not Order. "This isn't their work," he said, frowning. "Someone else."
Elara traced the rune, mana sparking. "Void magic—old, forbidden. A rogue faction?"
Torin grunted, patting Gruk. "Gruk hates it—smells like death."
Gorrim spat, Varg growling. "Hounds tracked a trail west—caves, heavy mana."
Aelar nodded, tossing the Wraith core to Elara. "Split it—Torin's half, Gorrim's share. Mana for you, speed for them."
Elara caught it, grinning. "Exalted's close."
Gorrim laughed, core flaring—Varg snarled approval. "Good hunt, Frostveil."
They followed the trail to a cave mouth, shadows writhing inside—mana pulsed, purple and thick. A figure emerged—a cloaked human, eyes glowing purple, wielding a void-charged staff. "Frostveil," he hissed, "the void sees you."
"Sylvara, analyze!" Aelar thought.
Target: Voidcaller (Unnamed)
Race: Human
Ascension Tier: Exalted (Level 3)
Stats:
Strength: 50 Agility: 65 Intelligence: 60 Mana: 110
Skills: Void Bolt (Level 4): Shadow-energy blasts. Shadow Cloak (Level 3): Defensive shadow shield. Mana Siphon (Level 3): Drains mana over time.
Sylvara: Void-focused—disrupt siphon, break cloak.
"Show me!" Aelar shouted, charging—Frost Shroud cloaking, Ice Crafting a spiked ram mid-run—it shattered the Voidcaller's Shadow Cloak—Swordsmanship slashed his staff, shadows sparking. "Weak!" he taunted, Glacial Chains slashing his arm—blood dripped, void hissing.
Elara spun, Frost Weaving a frost lattice—shadows tangled, her ice shards piercing his chest. "Burn!" she snapped, Mana Focus sharpening a frost spear—Staff Combat cracked his knee, "Stay!"—agility fluid.
Torin roared, "Gruk, hit!" The Frost Boar's Spine Charge rammed, spines sinking—Torin's Spear Mastery thrust, Beast Synergy piercing his side. "Die!" he bellowed, Endurance soaking a Void Bolt—shadows seared, Gruk biting his leg.
Gorrim swung, "Varg, tear!" The Frost Hound's Frost Bite tore his flank—Gorrim's Axe Mastery cleaved his shoulder, Resilience shrugging off a Mana Siphon—Varg bit his throat. "End!" he roared.
The Voidcaller's Mana Siphon tugged—Aelar's Mana Manipulation held—Frost Bite sank into his core, mana surging back. "Kaelith, finish!"—the wolf's Blizzard Charge tackled, jaws tearing—shadows dissolved. Aelar's hammer smashed his chest—blood sprayed, the Voidcaller collapsing, a void core rolling free.
Aelar claimed it, mana surging. "Sylvara, update."
Host: Aelar Frostveil
Ascension Tier: Exalted (Level 12)
Stats:
Strength: 128 (+3) Agility: 138 (+3) Intelligence: 102 (+2) Mana: 215 (+5)
Sylvara: Voidcaller felled—caves hold answers.
The Void's Promise
The cave revealed a void altar—black runes, pulsing purple. Aelar smashed it, shadows fading. "They're not Order," he said. "A new enemy—void worshippers."
Elara frowned, core absorbed—mana flared. "How many?"
"Enough," Torin grunted, core boosting Gruk. "Gruk's ready."
Gorrim nodded, Varg growling. "Hounds'll track 'em."
Aelar gripped his sword. "Back to Theron—war's not over."
Night's Oath
By night, the squad camped, fires crackling. Aelar stood with Elara, Torin, and Gorrim, Kaelith at his side. "Good hunt," he said—no orders, their strength clear.
Elara smirked. "Void's next?"
Torin patted Gruk. "Bring it."
Gorrim raised his axe. "To the hunt!"
The void whispered, a new war dawning—Aelar's blade gleamed, ready.