Re:Crafting in Another World-Chapter 150: Mad Witch

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?"

Mandira’s lips twitched, but she knew even if he acted carefree he was still properly thinking about his actions. "You’ll meet her soon enough. Focus on not triggering a trap first."

Romina, trailing behind, piped up hesitantly. "Are these traps... deadly?"

Mandira glanced back, her expression softening. "Not usually. The Sisterhood prefers to deter, not kill. But they’re designed to incapacitate intruders long enough for the mages to deal with them. So, stay sharp."

The path curved sharply around a boulder, revealing a small clearing framed by glittering crystal outcrops. The air shimmered faintly, like heat rising off pavement, and Romina’s skin prickled with unease. She stopped short, her breath catching. "Something’s... wrong."

Mandira froze, her staff glowing brighter as she extended it toward the clearing. "Good instincts, Romina. There’s mana here—too much for a simple ward." She squinted, her eyes tracing invisible patterns in the air. "This isn’t one of the Sanctuary’s usual traps. It’s... chaotic. Unstable."

Shennong raised an eyebrow, his hand resting casually on the hilt of the dagger at his belt. "Unstable? That’s a new one. What’s it gonna do?"

Mandira looked worried but she soon realized who is responsible for this trap. "This is serious, Shennong. This feels like... her work."

"Her?" Romina’s voice trembled slightly. "Who’s ’her’?"

Mandira’s jaw tightened. "Lyssara. My newest sister in the Sanctuary. A prodigy, but... unhinged. They call her the Mad Witch for a reason. Her traps are as unpredictable as she is."

Shennong’s grin widened. "A mad witch, huh? Now I’m really curious."

Before Mandira could retort, the ground beneath them shuddered. A low hum filled the air, growing into a high-pitched whine. The crystals in the clearing pulsed erratically, their light shifting from soft blue to a violent crimson. Romina yelped, stumbling back, while Mandira thrust her staff forward, a shimmering shield of mana flaring around the trio.

"Stay close!" Mandira barked. "It’s activating!"

The ground cracked, and vines of glowing, thorned mana erupted from the earth, writhing like snakes. They lashed toward the group, their tips crackling with energy. Shennong dodged one with a nimble sidestep, his dagger flashing as he sliced through another. The severed vine dissolved into sparks, but more surged forward.

"What kind of trap is this?" Shennong called, his voice laced with excitement. "Your sister’s got style!"

"Shennong!" Mandira snapped, her staff sweeping in an arc. A wave of blue light pulsed outward, forcing the vines back, but they regrouped, slithering toward them with eerie intelligence. "Lyssara’s traps don’t just attack—they adapt!"

Romina’s heart pounded as she ducked behind Mandira, her hands trembling. "Adapt? You mean they learn?"

"Exactly," Mandira said, her voice grim. "Lyssara’s magic is alive in a way. It reads your movements, your mana, even your emotions. If you panic, it gets worse."

"Great, i guess that’s why she is called Mad witch." Shennong said, twirling his dagger. "So, what’s the plan? Keep cutting these until there’s no more?"

Mandira glared at him. "We need to find the core. Every trap has a focal point—a crystal or rune anchoring the spell. Destroy it, and the trap collapses."

"I don’t have that ability." Shennong knew Mandira would be able to do that, but surprisngly she handed over that responsbility to Romina. "She should be able to do it better than me."

"Me?" Romina panicked at her words.

"Yes! You can do it. You have spirit inside your body, so you have the greatest potential more than us," Mandira muttered, as she kept protecting both Romina and Shennong.

Romina’s eyes darted around the clearing, her breath shallow. The vines were circling now, cutting off their escape. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, and the crimson light from the crystals pulsed faster, like a heartbeat. "I-I don’t see anything!" she stammered. "Just vines and rocks!"

"Focus, Romina," Mandira said, her tone firm but gentle. "You’re sensitive to mana. Close your eyes. Feel it."

Romina hesitated, then obeyed, shutting her eyes. The sounds of snapping vines and Shennong’s occasional grunts faded as she focused on the tingling sensation in her chest. It was faint at first, like a distant hum, but it grew stronger, sharper. She turned her head, zeroing in on a pulsing energy to her left. "There!" she said, pointing toward a cluster of crystals half-hidden behind a boulder. "It’s coming from there!"

Mandira nodded, a flicker of pride in her eyes. "Good. Shennong, clear a path. I’ll cover you."

"On it!" Shennong said, diving forward with reckless abandon. His dagger flashed, cutting through vines as he weaved through the clearing. Mandira’s staff glowed brighter, sending out bursts of mana to deflect the vines that lunged at him and rest Shennong blocked them by spawning huge amount of soil to protect him. Romina stayed close, her hands clenched, feeling useless but determined to keep up.

As they neared the boulder, the vines grew more aggressive, their movements faster, more coordinated. One grazed Shennong’s arm, leaving a sizzling burn. He cursed under his breath but kept moving, his grin never faltering. "This witch of yours doesn’t play nice, does she?"

"She doesn’t know the meaning of the word," Mandira muttered, her shield flaring as a vine slammed against it.

They reached the boulder, and Romina gasped. Nestled in a crevice was a fist-sized crystal, pulsing with crimson light. Tendrils of mana extended from it, feeding the vines like roots. But as Shennong raised his dagger to strike, a voice echoed through the clearing—high, lilting, and dripping with mischief.

"Oh, you found my little toy! I’m impressed!"

The air shimmered, and a figure appeared atop the boulder. She was young, barely older than Romina, with wild silver hair cascading over her shoulders and eyes that glowed an unnatural violet. Her robes were a patchwork of vibrant colors, clashing in a way that was both chaotic and deliberate. She clapped her hands, her grin wide and unsettling.

"Lyssara," Mandira said, her voice cold. "Call off your trap."

Lyssara tilted her head, her grin widening. "Mandira! My favorite sister! And you brought friends! Oh, this is delicious." Her eyes flicked to Shennong, then Romina, lingering on the younger woman. "Is this the niece you keep gushing about? She’s adorable."

Romina flushed, stepping back instinctively. "I-I’m not—"

"Enough, Lyssara," Mandira interrupted. "We’re here to see the Overseer. Let us pass."

Lyssara pouted, hopping down from the boulder with unnatural grace. "But where’s the fun in that? I spent hours on this trap! It’s my best one yet. Don’t you want to see what it can do?"

Shennong laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. "I like her already. What’s it do, Mad Witch? Turn us into frogs?"

Lyssara’s eyes sparkled that someone was interested in her traps. "Ooh, I like you. No frogs, sadly. But it could trap you in a dream loop. Or make you dance until your feet bleed. Depends on my mood."

Mandira’s staff flared, and she stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Enough games, Lyssara. Deactivate it, or I’ll do it myself."

Lyssara sighed dramatically, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Fine, fine. You’re no fun, Mandira. Always so serious." She snapped her fingers, and the vines froze, then dissolved into motes of light. The crystal’s glow faded, and the oppressive hum in the air vanished.

Romina exhaled, her knees weak. "That... that’s it?"

Lyssara winked at her. "For now. But don’t worry, cutie. I’ve got plenty more where that came from."

Shennong sheathed his dagger, still grinning. "You’re a handful, aren’t you? So, you’re the Sanctuary’s new prodigy?"

Lyssara preened, striking a pose. "The one and only! Lyssara, Mistress of Chaos, at your service. And you are...?"

"Shennong," he said, bowing mockingly. "Just a humble traveler."

"Humble, my foot," Lyssara said, her eyes narrowing playfully. "I can smell the trouble on you. We’re gonna get along just fine."

Mandira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Lyssara, why are you out here setting traps? The Overseer told you to stop experimenting on the main path."

Lyssara shrugged, her grin unrepentant. "I got bored. And besides, the Overseer loves my work. She says I’m ’innovative.’"

"She says you’re a headache," Mandira retorted. "Now, escort us to the Sanctuary. We’ve wasted enough time."

Lyssara pouted again but gestured toward the path. "Fine, fine. Follow me. But don’t blame me if you trip over another trap. I’ve got a few more scattered around."

Romina’s eyes widened. "More?!"

Lyssara laughed, a sound like tinkling bells laced with madness. "Relax, cutie. I’ll keep you safe. Maybe."

As they followed Lyssara toward the Sanctuary, Romina couldn’t shake the feeling that the Mad Witch was watching her too closely, her violet eyes gleaming with secrets.

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