They camped at the formation boundary that night.
Far enough that the mana fluctuation pull from it was manageable, close enough that Owen's Mana Sense could monitor it's manifestation rate. Elder Moss built a fire pit and The group arranged itself around it.
Owen sat against a rock and ran his ultra regeneration skill and said very little.
Six Demon Generals remain active and their Locations unknown.
Azmireth's last words echoed: Vorthraxx has been building his own kingdom for a thousand years and he is nearly done.
A thousand years of sealed isolation but with contact to the outside world, while Owen had been a dragon for less than a year.
He didn't share these thoughts with the group.
---
Marak arrived at dawn.
Twelve warriors, no weapons raised. He stopped at the camp's edge and looked at the clearing where Azmireth had been. The blackened ground.
"She's dead?" Marak said.
"Yes."
