Cherreads

Chapter 7 - Grandmaster

The war room of the Crystal Palace hummed with tension, frost-lit braziers casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. Aelar Frostveil stood at the map table, his silver-white ponytail catching the light, blue eyes fixed on the parchment sprawled before him. At seventeen, he wore dark blue frostweave armor etched with silver runes, his sword at his hip. Kaelith lounged nearby, silver-streaked fur gleaming, glacial eyes watching the room. The Order of the Shattered Veil's latest threat—a force of two hundred marching on the capital—loomed like a storm on the horizon.

Theron paced beside the table, frostblade propped against his chair. "They're bold," he said, voice a low growl. "Too bold. What's your move, Aelar?"

Aelar tapped the Frostveil Pass on the map. "We meet them here—narrow ground, cliffs on both sides. They can't flank us. I'll lead a hundred, hit them hard, and break their spine."

Lysandra, seated across from him, arched a brow. "A hundred against two hundred? You're confident."

"I have to be," Aelar replied, meeting her gaze. "The Order's testing us. If we falter, the clans won't follow."

Elara leaned against the table, her pale blue tunic rustling. "He's right. We've got the terrain—and Kaelith. They won't expect us to strike first."

Torin crossed his arms, frowning. "Bold's one thing, reckless is another. You're betting big, Frostborn."

Aelar smirked. "I don't bet, Torin. I win."

Theron chuckled, clapping Aelar's shoulder. "Spoken like a king. Lead it, then. Show them your steel."

The next dawn, Aelar rode out with Theron, Elara, Torin, and a hundred elite guards, Kaelith leading the charge. The Frostveil Pass loomed ahead, its icy cliffs narrowing the path. Snow crunched underfoot as they took position, Aelar atop Kaelith, scanning the horizon.

Elara adjusted her grip on her staff. "Nervous?"

"Excited," Aelar said, grinning. "You?"

"Both," she admitted. "Don't get cocky out there."

Torin rode up, spear in hand. "They're coming. I hear boots."

Aelar nodded. "Kaelith, scout. Let's greet them."

The wolf bounded forward, returning with a growl as the Order's force appeared—two hundred strong, humans and rogue Ice Elves, led by a towering commander in black armor, his face hidden by a veiled helm, warhammer gleaming in the light.

"Sylvara, analyze the commander," Aelar thought.

_______________________________________________

Target: Order Commander (Unnamed)

Race: Human

Ascension Tier: Grandmaster (Level 5)

Stats:

Strength: 65

Agility: 40

Intelligence: 25

Mana: 30

Skills:

Hammer Crush (Level 4): Devastating area strike.

Iron Will (Level 3): Resists magical effects.

Sylvara: Brute force, magic-resistant. Overwhelm him.

__________________________________

"Kaelith, disrupt their line! Elara, trap the rear! Torin, left flank!" Aelar shouted, charging. Kaelith's Frost Howl echoed off the cliffs, stunning dozens of raiders. Elara conjured frost walls, sealing their retreat, while Torin led guards into their side, spears flashing.

Aelar snapped Glacial Chains—twelve tendrils lashing out, binding ten foes mid-step, guards cutting them down. The commander roared, swinging his warhammer in a Hammer Crush—ice shattered, the shockwave knocking guards back. Aelar dodged, rolling off Kaelith, and unleashed Frost Shroud, mist cloaking the field. He darted through, chains binding the commander's legs, but Iron Will snapped them, the hammer swinging again.

"Theron, now!" Aelar yelled. Theron surged in, frostblade clashing with the hammer, sparks flying. Kaelith hit the commander's side with Blizzard Charge, claws raking armor. Aelar swung, sword slashing the man's arm—blood sprayed. The commander's hammer grazed Aelar's side, pain flaring, but he pressed on, chains weaving around the man's arms and neck. Theron struck, blade piercing the commander's chest—the giant fell, helm clattering off, revealing a scarred face.

The Order broke, fleeing or dying. Aelar felt a surge, his power cresting. The system pinged:

________________________________________

Host: Aelar Frostveil

Race: Ice Elf (Royal Bloodline)

Ascension Tier: Grandmaster (Level 1)

Stats:

Strength: 70 

Agility: 80

Intelligence: 58

Mana: 110 

Skills:

Frostborn Legacy (Innate, Level 6): Godlike ice affinity, cold immunity, unparalleled skill growth.

Glacial Chains (Level 9): Dozens of enchanted chains, limitless range and strength.

Frost Bite (Level 2): Moderate cold damage bite (mana cost: 5).

Frost Shroud (Level 5): 30-second chilling mist, damages and slows (mana cost: 6).

Mana Manipulation (Level 9): Absolute mana control.

Ice Crafting (Level 7):Masterful ice constructs.

Swordsmanship (Level 8): Supreme sword mastery.

Beast Taming (Level 4): Command beasts with dominance.

Companion: Frostwolf (Elder) Name: Kaelith

Stats: Strength 65, Agility 55, Intelligence 22, Mana 45

Skills: Frost Howl (Level 5), Blizzard Charge (Level 5), Ice Armor (Level 4)

Sylvara: Grandmaster achieved. 

________________________________________________

Aelar steadied himself, frost swirling. "Thanks, Sylvara."

"Unification's next," she replied.

-------------------

The pass fell silent, Order bodies strewn across the snow. Theron sheathed his blade. "Grandmaster at seventeen," he said, voice thick with pride. "You're a force, Aelar."

Aelar winced, clutching his side. "Took a hit for it."

Elara rushed over, hands glowing with frost. "Hold still, you idiot. Why'd you let him get that close?"

"Had to," Aelar grunted, smirking. "He wasn't going down easy."

Torin kicked the commander's hammer. "Tough bastard. Good thing you're tougher."

Aelar found a letter on the body: "Strike when the prince rises." He handed it to Theron. "They're watching me."

-----------------

Back at the palace, Aelar faced the court, Kaelith beside him. "The Order's beaten, but they'll return," he said, voice steady. "Frostveil must unite Eryndral—starting now."

A noble scoffed. "The clans won't bow to a boy."

Aelar met his gaze, chains flickering briefly at his fingertips. "They'll bow to strength. I'll prove it."

Theron stepped forward. "He leads the vanguard. Who's with him?"

Elara raised her hand. "I am."

Torin grunted. "me too."

Lysandra smiled faintly. "You've grown, Aelar. Go carefully."

That night, Aelar sat with Elara by the hearth. "Think we can do this?" she asked, voice quiet.

"We have to," he said, staring into the flames. "No one else will."

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