The air buzzed with idle conversation, the low hum of magic weaving through the crowd. Flecks of mana sparked from passersby, leaving trails of ethereal light that vanished as quickly as they appeared. Sunlight bounced off the shimmering white walls of the Velithar, casting rippling patterns across their skin—like the kiss of moving water. Birds flitted overhead, their chirps mingling with the breeze that carried the scent of fresh pine from the nearby forest. The city exuded peace, a serenity so deep it felt dangerous. Everyone knew: disturbing the harmony of Velithar meant swift, unforgiving judgment from the Holy Church, whose reach was as long as it was lethal.