The next few days were the coldest of the year. The air felt like sharp pieces of glass, and the snow on the ground was hard and crunchy. This was exactly what Cedric wanted. It was the best time to fight Lord Kaelen, the Frost Elf Lord, because the cold was now Cedric's friend, thanks to his Cryo-Mage class.
Cedric sent Lysandra out again with the two best scouts. They weren't fighting; they were setting a trap. Lysandra carried one of the new, silent Adamantine-laced Hunting Bows that the Dwarves had quickly finished for her.
The plan was simple but dangerous: hit the Elves where it hurts the most. Lysandra was to ambush a supply caravan far away from the captive camp, making Lord Kaelen think the main threat was over there. This would pull the Elf guards out of the captive camp.
On the night of the attack, the temperature dropped so low it hurt to breathe. Cedric left the outpost dressed in thick, white furs that Steven had quickly found. He carried no armor, only a small pouch of iron rations and a sword. He needed to be fast and quiet.
He headed toward the captive camp, which was hidden in a frozen valley closer to the glacier. Lysandra had reported that the Elves were using the captives to dig up special glowing ice crystals.
As Cedric got closer, he activated his Cryo-Mage magic. It wasn't a blast of ice; it was a simple, deep chill. He spread the cold out from his body like a blanket, making the air around him feel even more frozen. This did two things: first, it made him feel strong, because the cold powered his magic. Second, it made him move silently. The fresh powder snow that would normally crunch under a normal person's boot was already so frozen that his lightweight boots just pressed down without a sound. It was like walking on glass, but only he could do it without slipping.
[Cryo-Mage Ability: Sub-Zero Concealment Active. Mana Drain: 10 MP per minute.]
After about an hour of quiet movement, he heard the signal. It wasn't loud. It was a single, distant WHOOSH of smoke and fire, far to the west. Lysandra had hit the supply line.
Cedric knew he had maybe an hour, maybe two, before Lord Kaelen figured out it was a trick.
He sped up.
The captive camp was a terrible sight. It was a cluster of rough, wooden sheds crammed together. The sheds were too thin to keep out the extreme cold. Outside, three Frost Elf archers stood guard. They were tall and pale, dressed in silver-white armor that looked like it was made of frozen water. They didn't move much, but they were alert.
The Elves were used to the cold, but this night's cold was too much, even for them. They huddled together, stamping their feet.
Cedric crept closer, hiding behind large, frost-covered boulders. He needed a way to get past them without fighting, because three skilled archers would be too loud.
He focused his magic. He aimed his hands at the ground near the Elves' feet. He didn't fire an [Ice Lance]. Instead, he used a small trickle of his magic to super-chill the damp wooden planks where the Elves were standing.
In seconds, the planks froze solid, bonding to the snow beneath. The Elves didn't even notice the change until one of them tried to shift his weight to stamp his foot again. The Elf's boots were stuck to the ground.
The Elf made a frustrated, hissing sound and tugged. His boots tore free, but the noise was sharp and sudden. The other two Elves instantly aimed their bows, their arrows tipped with dark, crystalline ice.
Cedric was already moving. He sprinted toward the door of the main shed while the Elves were still confused about their feet. Before they could track him, he hit the door. It was locked with a heavy iron latch. Instead of using his sword, which would make noise, he used his magic again. He pressed his gloved hand against the iron latch and poured his coldest energy into it.
The iron instantly went from cold to impossible cold. The metal became brittle and weak. He gave it one good tug, and the latch shattered into three pieces of frozen, useless metal.
He threw the main shed door open and slipped inside. The smell inside was thick and bad—unwashed bodies, desperation, and fear. It was pitch black. He could hear hundreds of small, frightened noises.
"Silence!" Cedric whispered loudly, his voice raw but commanding. "I am Lord Cedric, here to free you! You must be silent and move only when I tell you!"The sound died down to scared breathing. A small, thin woman near the door finally spoke, her voice trembling. "They'll kill us! The Elves will slaughter us all!"
"They won't," Cedric insisted. "Their guards are stuck, and their army is chasing a ghost. But we must move now. Listen: I need the young and the strong to help the weak. We are heading south, back toward my fort. We move in one long, silent line. Now!"
He stepped back out of the shed. The Elf guards were now fully unstuck, angry, and scanning the darkness.
"Find the human!" the lead Elf shouted, drawing a silvery sword.
This was the moment. Cedric knew he couldn't fight them all and lead the rescue. He had to disable them completely and quietly.
He channeled the last of his quick-Mana. He focused on the ground between himself and the three Elves, which was an area of about fifteen feet of packed snow. He hit the ground with the most powerful [Frost Shroud] he could manage.
The effect was dramatic. A massive, clear sheet of ice instantly formed over the snow. The air above it became intensely cold, pulling the heat out of the three Elves' armor and bodies.
[Cryo-Mage Ability: Overload - Frost Shroud activated. Duration: 60 seconds.]
The Elves tried to step onto the ice, but it was too slick. They instantly lost their footing, their armor clanging loudly as they fell. The intense cold also made their movements slow, like they were fighting underwater.
"Now!" Cedric shouted back into the shed. The 200+ people poured out, shivering and desperate, but moving fast. They streamed past Cedric and onto the main path leading south.
Cedric stood his ground until the very last person was out. The three Elves were struggling to stand, their bodies sluggish from the overwhelming cold. He didn't kill them. He didn't need to. He just needed them paralyzed long enough.
"Tell your Lord Kaelen that theWinter Lord has claimed his slaves," Cedric muttered, his own breath freezing into clouds of white mist.
He turned and ran, catching up to the stream of refugees. The escape was brutal. Two hundred starving, exhausted people moving through a blizzard in the middle of the night. But they kept going, driven by fear of the Elves and the promise of a safe place.
As they moved, they started to see Cedric using his power again. When the path got too icy, he would use a quick burst of magic to make the ice rough so they could walk on it. When they needed to melt a small patch of snow for water, he would use the reverse of his magic (which he didn't even know he had!) to warm a tiny area.
They saw their savior, their liberator, a man who commanded the very cold that the Frost Elves relied upon. He was an ice master, but he was their ice master.
Near dawn, when they finally spotted the sad, lonely, snow-covered silhouette of the Northern Outpost in the distance, a woman near the front of the line fell to her knees in exhausted relief. She looked back at Cedric, standing tall against the rising sun, covered in frost, his face set hard with determination.
"The... the Winter Lord," she whispered, her voice husky. "He mastered the ice. He is our Winter Lord!"
The whisper caught. The name spread through the exhausted, grateful crowd. They had been freed by the cold, commanded by a man who looked like he owned the North. They were no longer captives; they were the first citizens of the Winter Lord's new territory.
Cedric finally let his guard down. The Mana drain was almost complete, and he was dizzy with exhaustion. But he smiled. He had the people he needed. The foundation of his new kingdom was secured.