From the sky, the man poured magma in a continuous, unbroken flow that hammered into the mountainside and filled every opening it found. The observation windows, the ventilation shafts, the cannon ports, the blast doors. Every hole that six centuries of engineering had carved into solid granite became an entry point. The liquid fire found them all.
Thordak threw himself backward from the balcony as the wall of heat struck. A wave of magma still caught his left arm. His gauntlet superheated. The metal fused to his skin and the pain that followed was unlike anything he'd experienced.
He didn't scream. His Vitality was too high, his armor too thick, his body too durable. The heat that killed his soldiers in seconds gave him the gift of surviving long enough to watch.
