The precipitous cliff edge was such that even a slight movement of foot made one feel as if they were strolling in the clouds.
With steps that seemed to be challenging the boundaries of death, Frey stood on the edge of that cliff.
Looking down, the rugged rock face resembled a hewn body of a giant. Only sparse vegetation, like scattered scars, and, amidst the mist, glimpses of the valley floor, rushed over by a turbulent stream, were in view.
A careless fall would surely reduce one to a mound of flesh.
Even with a spell granting immunity to death, one would die swiftly due to severe injuries and immobility.
Just like that.
The detective stared at the cliff, silent and seemingly observant of something, yet seemingly unsure what the next step should be.
Because everyone standing behind him knew, there was nothing worth observing about this cliff!
All this underscored the cruelty towards the Challenger.
