The trio trudged onward, the air growing heavier with the hum of mana as the Mage Sanctuary's crystalline towers loomed closer. The rocky path had widened slightly, but the tension between Romina and Mandira lingered like a stubborn fog.
Shennong, ever the carefree wanderer, kept up his cheerful whistling, seemingly unbothered by the awkward silence or the faint magical pulses vibrating through the ground. Romina clutched her cloak tighter, her eyes darting nervously to the jagged cliffs on either side. Mandira, staff in hand, scanned the terrain with practiced caution, her expression taut.
"Keep your steps light," Mandira warned, her voice low. "The traps here aren't just physical. Some are woven with mana—illusions, bindings, even curses. The Sisterhood doesn't mess around."
Shennong chuckled, kicking a pebble that skittered across the path. "Sounds like I have lot to learn and collect form this place. So, who's this Overseer you mentioned? Some big-shot mage?"
