The toes of Roland Sudrath's boots touched the slick stone.
There was no hesitation. The blistering heat from the lava abyss immediately washed over his face, burning away the lingering chill of the tunnel they had just left behind.
Far below, the magma river boiled with a heavy, deafening roar. Orange embers spat into the thick, sulfur-tainted air.
The natural stone bridge spanned barely two meters wide. There were no guardrails whatsoever.
Its cracked surface emitted a faint red glow from the runic veins, transferring a searing heat straight through the soles of their shoes. Roland's grimy white shirt fluttered in the scorching wind.
Every step demanded absolute balance; a single careless footing meant a plunge into the infernal crater.
