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The Duke Of Eternal Frost

🇮🇪SirLuka
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Synopsis
novel for fans of magic, knights and epic battles, the first few chapters can be bit rough but i promise it gets better
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Chapter 1 - Frost and Fang: The Trial of the Wolf Duke

Frost and Fang: The Trial of the Wolf Duke 

A tale of blood, honor, and the forging of a ruler in the frozen North. 

Prologue: A Throne Unclaimed 

The wind howled through the frozen towers of Wolfsheim, carrying the weight of history 

upon its back. 

The great Duke Ulric Wolfhart, ruler of the North, had drawn his final breath. 

Not to war. Not to assassins. 

But to time itself. 

A slow and grinding illness had stolen the strength of the greatest warrior the North had ever 

known. 

And now, his son—Kacper Wolfhart, barely nineteen winters old—stood before the gathered. 

Nobles of the North expected to take his father's place. 

But the wolves did not trust the pup. 

To them, he was too young, too untested. 

"Your father was a great man, but you are still a boy," spoke Earl Varek Frostvein, his 

father's old war commander. "The North cannot be ruled by a cub in a wolf's skin." 

The other Lords and Earls murmured in agreement. 

Tradition dictated that the strongest must lead. 

And so, they challenged Kacper's right to rule. 

The Trial of the Wolf Lords would begin. 

Three trials. Three tests. 

Survive, and he would be Duke. 

Fail, and the North would belong to another. 

And so, the pup was thrown to the wolves. 

But in the end, it would not be a cub that emerged— 

It would be the Wolf Duke. 

Chapter I: The Hunt of the Iceborn 

The first trial was the Hunt of the Iceborn. 

A leader must prove himself a hunter—not just of beasts but of enemies. 

Each contender was given one weapon and no armor and sent into the Frozen Maw, a valley of 

ice and shadows where the last Iceborn Beasts roamed. 

Only those who returned with the head of a beast could continue. 

Varek Frostvein, the strongest challenger, slew a Frostbear, its hide thick as iron, dragging its 

carcass through the snow. 

Lord Sigrun of the Ironfangs returned with the severed head of a Winter Serpent, its fangs 

dripping venom. 

But Kacper? 

Kacper tracked a different prey. 

He did not hunt one beast. 

He tracked the Alpha of the shadowolves Pack, the largest and most vicious wolf pack in the 

North. 

For three nights, he stalked them through the snow. 

On the fourth, he did not slay the Alpha. 

He challenged it. 

Man against beast. Claws against steel. Fang against fury. 

Kacper fought not to kill but to dominate. 

His blood painted the snow. His breath turned to mist. 

But in the end— 

The Alpha bowed. 

And with it, the entire pack bent their heads in submission. 

When the Lords of Wolfsheim gathered at the gates, expecting a trophy, they did not see 

Kacper is dragging the carcass of a slain beast. 

They saw him return with a living pack of wolves at his command. 

Shadowed shapes padded at his side—his hunters, his sentinels, his proof. 

The nobles whispered in awe. 

He had not just survived the trial. 

He had conquered it. 

Chapter II: The Trial of Command 

A Duke must be more than a warrior. 

He must be a commander. 

The second trial would decide who was truly fit to lead. 

Each contender was given a warband and sent to reclaim a village taken by Ice Reaver 

raiders. 

Varek Frostvein stormed the village in a brutal charge, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake. 

Lord Sigrun poisoned the wells, forcing a surrender. 

The others burned the town down rather than let it fall to the enemy again. 

But Kacper? 

He used the wolves. 

Under the cover of snow and silence, he sent the Nightfang Pack ahead, slipping through the 

shadows. 

The raiders never heard them coming. 

One by one, they were dragged into the dark. 

By the time Kacper and his warriors walked into the village, the enemy had already fallen. 

He had won the battle before the first sword was drawn. 

The Lords took notice. 

This was not just a boy. 

This was a leader. 

Chapter III: The Duel for the Crescent Throne 

The final trial was the Duel of the Crescent Throne. 

A battle to the death or submission. 

Only one man would rule. 

Before the gathered Lords and warriors of the North, Kacper faced Varek Frostvein. 

Varek, a warrior of sixty battles, wielded his great sword with the force of a landslide. 

But Kacper was not a swordsman. 

He was a spearman. 

A wolf fights with his fangs. A hunter fights with reach. 

As Varek swung, Kacper moved. 

Not with brute force, but with precision. 

His spear flashed like lightning, dancing between the slow, heavy strikes of Varek's blade. 

A parry. A twist. A step back. 

The greatsword met only air. 

Varek growled, lunging forward—but Kacper was already gone. 

A single thrust. 

The spear found flesh. 

Varek staggered, clutching his shoulder, blood dripping into the snow. 

He roared and charged. 

But Kacper was calm. 

One step forward. One perfect strike. 

The spear's tip stopped an inch from Varek's throat. 

A hush fell over the crowd. 

Varek, gasping, let his great sword drop to the snow. 

And then, he knelt. 

The North had chosen. 

Kacper Wolfhart was no longer just a boy. 

He was the Wolf Duke. 

And he would become the finest spearman the North had ever seen. 

Epilogue: The Birth of Spearman's Legend 

As the nobles knelt, the banners of House Wolfhart flew high above Wolfsheim once more. 

The Crescent Moon Order, once wary, now swore their loyalty to the new Duke. 

At his side, the shadow wolf Pack prowled, watching over him like specters in the dark. 

But the legend was only beginning. 

For from this day forth, he would not just be known as the Wolf Duke. 

He would be remembered as Vaeloria's greatest spearman. 

The duel against Varek Frostvein was only the first step. 

This was the day the legend began—the legend of the Spear of the North. 

And soon, the world would know his name.