Jason didn't wait for his new enemy to strike first. He was already moving, instincts fully awake. That decision saved him because the massive black python lunged forward with terrifying force. Its body was thick like a tree trunk, its movements as fast as a spear thrown by a veteran warrior. The sound of its body sliding across the ground was loud and vicious, snapping broken spears and swords nearby and flinging dirt into the air. Jason shifted his footing and sprinted. The serpent was right behind him.
He zigzagged across the uneven terrain, trying to break its rhythm, knowing the straight-line pursuit would be suicide. The snake hissed with fury, its body cracking the earth each time it missed him. The ground exploded with cracks when it struck them by mistake. The cliff he had seen earlier, which looked miles away, suddenly loomed near. He needed to reach it and figure out his next move. But he was running out of time.
As he reached the cliff's edge, he made the mistake of glancing back. That moment of hesitation nearly cost him everything. The snake's fangs slashed at his side, tearing through his red armor like paper. Poison sprayed from its mouth in thick green streams, hitting the ground and burning through rock and sand alike. It didn't just scorch, it melted. That venom wasn't just toxic—it was lethal in a way that no natural beast should have possessed.
The smell of smoke and acid filled his nose, and he staggered, nearly slipping. But amid the chaos, his eyes caught something strange. There was a vine near the base of the cliff, stretched like a waiting trap. It barely moved, but Jason noticed the faint twitch. A normal person would have missed it entirely, but something told him that this vine was more dangerous than anything chasing him.
He leaped forward, flipping over the vine and landing rough on the other side. His knees scraped against the ground, and his hand nearly slipped into the poison left by the snake. But he had made it past. The serpent wasn't so lucky. It slithered at full speed and crawled right into the vine's reach.
What happened next didn't make sense, not even by this cursed battlefield's standards. The vine whipped up with unnatural speed, wrapping around the snake in tight coils. The python hissed and screamed, its tail smashing wildly against the earth. The ground trembled with each blow, but the vine didn't let go. It tightened with each second, almost like it was feeding. Jason could hardly believe what he was seeing.
The python that had been hunting him like prey was now being devoured alive. It twisted and struggled, but nothing it did mattered. The vine curled tighter and began to crush its bones. The sound of cracking echoed in the air, louder than thunder. Jason watched with wide eyes, unable to look away.
Something about that reversal made him laugh. He hadn't meant to, but the sound came out naturally. It echoed strangely, and for a moment, it didn't even sound like him. His voice had changed. There was a surreal edge to it, something deep and hollow. He was too tired to question it.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned away, still chuckling faintly. That was when he saw a smaller vine creeping toward him. It had been quiet, barely moving. Another second and it might have touched his ankle. He jumped away, heart racing again, and sprinted to the edge of the cliff.
He didn't think. He just dropped over the edge.
The fall wasn't deep, but it jolted his knees when he landed. He exhaled sharply, finally able to take a breath. His chest rose and fell. The pain from the chase, the cuts on his body, the poison that had almost touched his skin—it all came back in waves. His fingers were trembling. But the worst of it was over. For now.
As he looked around, he spotted a cave. It wasn't deep, but it was large enough for shelter. He hesitated. In this kind of place, a cave could be a death sentence. But he had no choice. He stepped in slowly, each step careful and quiet. His body was still alert. He didn't breathe too hard, didn't shift too quickly. He looked at every corner, waited for movement.
Nothing came.
It was empty.
Jason lowered himself against the wall, keeping his back away from the entrance. He closed his eyes for a moment, but he didn't sleep. The thought of some beast coming back and finding him here kept his mind sharp. What if the creature was just out hunting and would return? What if the vine kept growing while he rested? He sat there in silence for hours, refusing to close his eyes for too long.
Time passed, and the vine began to spread.
Jason could see it in the distance. It was slow, creeping inch by inch, but it was constant. It spread across the ground like mold, searching. He realized that if he stayed here too long, the cave would become his tomb. He didn't sleep for two days. He watched the outside. He listened to every sound. He drank dew from the rocks. His lips were dry, and his hands shook from hunger. His skin itched under the dirt and sweat, but he didn't dare go outside.
Then, on the third day, something changed.
The sun didn't rise properly. Instead, a thick fog crept in like a living thing. It blanketed everything in sight. Jason crawled to the entrance of the cave and looked out. Nothing could be seen. It wasn't just cloudy, it was white and dense, swallowing light itself. The world beyond the cave disappeared. He stayed frozen in place.
The sounds during the day were worse than the ones at night. Whispers, screeches, the thud of something large walking past. He didn't dare go out. Every sound felt close. At night he at least had the stars, but during the day the fog made him feel like he was buried alive. If he had aweakend during the day and the fog came, he might have walked right into something and never come back. The thought made his stomach turn.
Sometimes he saw shapes in the mist. Large ones. He counted nearly a hundred different monsters just from what little he could glimpse. This land was cursed. That much was clear.
On the third night, as Jason sat against the wall of the cave, his body leaned forward. His head bobbed like a drunk man. His mouth was dry, and his throat burned. His eyes were dull, his fingers numb. He could barely think straight. The hunger and the thirst were becoming dangerous. He wasn't even sure what day it was anymore. He wondered how long it would take before madness set in completely.
Then he saw movement.
Horses. A group of them galloping in the distance. For a second, he thought he was hallucinating. But as they came closer, he knew they were real. Soldiers. People.
He stumbled to his feet. His body was weak, but something deep inside woke up. He tore off his red armor, wanting to look neutral, like someone harmless. He didn't want to be mistaken for an enemy. He stood up straight, trying to steady his breath.
At the head of the group rode a woman in red armor. Her face was serious, focused. Beside her was an older man with a grey-streaked beard. His eyes were sharp and cold, the eyes of someone who had seen too many wars. The woman looked like a seasoned warrior, but it was the old man who gave orders.
He turned to her and asked in a low voice, "Gaya, are you sure this is the place?"
Gaya nodded, her expression tight. "This is the shortcut to Frostas Fort. There are more demonic beasts here than usual, but it's still the fastest way."
The old man nodded slowly. "If this is the shortest route, then we take it. No matter how many beasts there are. Soldiers don't run from danger."
Before he could finish, another soldier rode up in a rush. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes wide.
"Sir Gallan, just as you predicted. The enemy is approaching from the horizon."
Gallan's face didn't change. He nodded once. As a strategist and commander, he knew how enemies moved. This only confirmed what he had already planned for. He raised his left hand, and a trumpet sounded out. The blast echoed across the valley, commanding attention.
Soldiers moved instantly, forming ranks and tightening their positions. Their movements were clean and efficient. The fog trembled with tension. Then, like a silent wave of death, the enemy emerged on the horizon.
They wore black from head to toe. Their formation was wide and silent. No banners waved, no horses neighed. Just the quiet, terrible presence of death itself.
Jason stood frozen, watching it all unfold. He hadn't escaped the nightmare. He had only stumbled into another.