Jacob was still gasping, his body trembling from the fight. His eyes were fixed on the Viking—frozen, as if some unseen force had drained his life away.
"What... what did you do to him?" Jacob asked, his voice a blend of awe and suspicion.
Bassem didn't respond right away. He stepped slowly toward the frozen warrior, raised his hand as if examining the effect of his power. Then he turned to Jacob and said quietly:
"I stopped him—temporarily. But he's not the most dangerous one here."
A chill crept down Jacob's spine. Stronger? He had barely survived this fight. How could he possibly face something worse?
"Where are we?" he asked, trying to make sense of it all.
Bassem looked at him, as if weighing whether to answer. Then he said:
"This place doesn't belong to any time. It's more like a trap... designed to test people like you."
"Tests?!"
"Here, trust is a luxury, and survival is a blood-soaked game."
Before Jacob could respond, they heard footsteps emerging from the darkness.
They turned sharply, ready for the next threat. But it wasn't another Viking—it was something else entirely.
A man with short white hair, eyes sharp as a hawk's, wearing a torn black cloak that whispered with every step. Time seemed to have forgotten his face.
"Well, well... I didn't expect to find you here so soon," he said with a calm, mocking tone.
Bassem remained still. Jacob gripped his sword tighter.
"Who are you?" Jacob asked.
The man didn't answer. He studied the frozen Viking, then glanced at Bassem before smirking:
"Still showing off, are we, Bassem?"
Jacob noticed something—Bassem hadn't moved, hadn't spoken.
"Aren't you going to introduce your new friend?" the man asked, looking directly at Jacob.
"That's none of your concern," Bassem replied, his voice colder than ever.
The man smiled, folded his hands behind his back, and said:
"Fine. I'll learn everything soon enough. I only came to warn you..."
"Warn us about what?"
His gaze sharpened.
"You're not the only hunters here... Someone's been watching you since the beginning."
Before Jacob could process the meaning, the ground trembled. A faint red glow pulsed from a shadowed corridor.
"It's too late..." the man muttered, then turned and vanished into the darkness as if he had never been there.
"Who the hell was that?" Jacob whispered.
But Bassem wasn't looking at him—his eyes were locked on the red-lit corridor.
"It's already begun," he said softly.
"What do you mean?"
No answer.
And from the shadows... they emerged.
Dark figures, wielding jagged weapons, their eyes glowing with blood-red fire.
"Prepare yourself, Jacob..." Bassem said.
"In this place, there's only one law—hunt... or be hunted."