Zaber slowly rose to his feet.
His eyes, from the corner, fixed on the young man kneeling on the ground. There was neither anger nor pity in that gaze—only cold curiosity.
"First question," he said in a quiet voice. "Who are you?"
The young man did not hesitate even for a moment. Though his breathing was uneven from pain, his voice remained firm.
"My name is Heynler," he said. "I am a member of the forest bandits."
"My occupation… reconnaissance."
Zaber was not surprised. It was as if he had expected exactly this answer. He asked the next question:
"How many bandits are there?"
"What are your abilities?"
Heynler remained silent for several seconds. He lowered his eyes, then spoke slowly:
"More than twenty of us."
"Most are armed in ordinary ways."
"Our strongest member is the leader. He is high rank—second stage."
Zaber slightly inclined his head. A low sound escaped from between his lips:
"Not particularly strong, then."
