Meanwhile, Draeven and his companions emerged from the ruin.
Stone dust clung to their shoulders, and none of them looked pleased.
"Well," T'zarek grumbled, brushing a chunk of debris from his chest. "That was a waste of time."
"No relics.
Not even scraps," Vek'tal muttered, giving the ruin one last look.
Draeven did not answer.
His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon.
A faint pulse of unnatural lightning flickered across the sky in violet flashes.
His brow furrowed.
"That light," he muttered. "You feel that mana signature?"
The other two turned and looked where he was staring.
They nodded slowly as the pulse rolled through the air like a slow heartbeat.
"Looks like the Magus is still busy," Draeven said.
He weighed their options in his head.
He scanned the area, then stopped.
His eyes locked onto the crater where he had fought the earth beast before.
At first it looked normal.
Then, as he focused, he saw it.
The ground inside the crater was shifting.
