The battlemages moved up the slope of the northern ridge, panting in the cold air that was visible in front of them. The blizzard raged on, snow blowing in strong winds as if the mountains themselves did not want the two of them to continue. Lord Ferdinand and Lady Morgana went first, their expressions stern and unyielding.
Ferdinand, his dark eyes fixed on the frozen terrain, strode with determination. The recent chaos had only heightened his sense of urgency. The magical energy of the ridge was tense. By his side, Morgana walked with determination and unshakable anger, her red hair flying in the air like a storm.
When they got to a relatively level ground that offered a view of the rough terrain below, Ferdinand raised his hand to signal for a stop. "We should wait here," he said, his voice rising above the wind. "The other groups are still approaching and it is safer to remain here until they get here."
