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 mont. Though his breathing was uneven from pain, his voice remained firm.
"My na is Heynler," he said. "I am a mber 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 ard in ordinary ways."
"Our strongest mber 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."
"In that case... tell —why hasn’t the city simply exterminated you?"
Heynler spoke while staring at the ground. His voice was faint:
"In exchange for not wiping us out... they collect tribute."
"We attack the caravans and people they order us to attack."
"We don’t touch the ones they say ’don’t touch’."
"That’s how... we’re still alive."
Zaber fell silent for a mont. Then he gave a faint smile, though there was no warmth in it.
"So they prefer control over annihilation," he said.
"There are people in this city who know how to think."
He raised his gaze.
"Where is your base located?"
Heynler lifted his head and looked straight into Zaber’s eyes. His voice grew firm again.
"I cannot tell you that."
"I am not a traitor."
Zaber gave no reply.
He raised his sword—and in one motion drove it into Heynler’s thigh.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"
The scream echoed down the road. His breathing ca in ragged gasps.
"HOO... HUUUU... HOOOO... HUUU..."
The blood was not profuse, yet it flowed from his leg and began to stain the soil.
Zaber silently pulled the blade free and thrust it into the thigh of the other leg.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"
Heynler’s pupils shrank. He clutched both thighs tightly with his hands, gritting his teeth as though trying to endure the agony. Sweat poured down his face; his breath ca in choked bursts.
Zaber spoke in a low but distinct tone:
"Is that still not enough?"
"Fine... I like you."
He withdrew the sword.
Heynler sat there gripping both legs. Determination still burned in his eyes. Though his face had paled from pain, he had not surrendered.
Zaber stepped behind him
and pressed the point of the sword against his right shoulder blade.
A dark, wide smile spread across his face.
"I want to see how much you can endure."
The blade pierced.
Steel went straight through bone.
Heynler clenched the earth with both fists. He bit down hard, desperately trying not to scream.
Zaber pulled the sword out and stabbed three more tis—right beside the sa spot.
"Isn’t all of this aningless?" he said coldly.
"You could have simply told ."
Only one thought circled in Heynler’s mind:
I am not a traitor.
I will not betray my leader.
He is everything to .
Zaber pulled him forward. He looked at the fists still gripping the dirt.
"Interesting..." he said in an icy tone.
Then he raised the sword and drove it through both fists.
The fingers could no longer clench.
Tears stread from Heynler’s eyes. His eyelids drooped halfway; blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
When Zaber saw the blood on the lips, he plunged the sword into the ground. Grasping Heynler by the jaw, he forced his mouth open.
With astonishnt he said:
"To keep yourself from speaking... you bit off your own tongue?"
He slapped Heynler hard across the face.
"What was that for?!"
"For worthless scum like them you go this far?!"
Zaber tightly gripped the soul chain in his right hand.
He yanked hard.
Heynler’s soul was torn from his body.
Zaber seized the soul by the throat with his left hand and devoured it with cold indifference.
Ten minutes later, he finished.
Zaber looked down at the lifeless corpse.
"With soldiers like you... how am I supposed to defeat them..." he said in an icy voice.
He picked up the coin pouch in front of Heynler and continued on his way.
As he walked, he ordered his thoughts.
"Will..." he thought. "Will ans the resilience of the soul."
"The soul chain pierces the soul."
"When the soul is pierced, the will weakens as well."
"The body becos a coward... unable to attack."
He paused for a mont.
"But this Heynler..." he thought inwardly. "He had so much will that..."
He slowly opened his palm. The residual vibration of the soul chain could still be felt between his fingers—like cold smoke slowly dissipating.
"Will..." he reflected. "That young man possessed will."
The thought was not pleasant.
It was an unsettling thought.
Zaber glanced back at the corpse one last ti, then turned away.
He continued down the road.
The emptiness had grown much wider now—the sense of void intensified.
As though nothing was ant to live here.
As though this land was slowly rejecting all living things.
Zaber could feel it.
With every step the heaviness in his soul increased, yet his body did not resist.
"My soul..." he thought. "It’s growing heavier."
He stopped for a mont.
There was no sound around him.
No wind.
No birds.
No insects.
Zaber slowly closed his eyes. He tried to create inner stillness. But this ti stillness did not co.
The soul chain stirred inside him again.
It had not been commanded.
It had awakened on its own.
"No..." Zaber thought. "What is this? Stop."
But the chain did not obey.
A sharp pain erupted in his soul. This pain did not reach the body—it pierced straight through the mind.
Zaber dropped to one knee.
His breath caught for an instant.
Scenes flashed before his eyes.
Blood-soaked roads.
Broken bodies.
Faces that did not manage to flee.
He clutched his splitting head with both hands and slamd it against the ground.
"This is not mory..." he thought. "This is not mine."
The pain intensified.
Another scene tore open.
A battlefield. People in different uniforms rushing at one another. Screams. Clashing steel.
A strike flew toward him.
But soone blocked it.
In the next instant that sa strike smashed into his face.
"What are you doing, you fool?!" soone roared.
His hand was wounded. He could no longer hold the sword.
The man grabbed him by the clothes and dragged him backward. He fell to the ground.
The furious voice thundered in his ears:
"Get out of here, Heynler! If you stay, you’ll die!"
Zaber’s eyes widened.
"Heynler...?" he thought. "Isn’t that... the na of that young man?"
The mory continued for one more breath.
Heynler clenched his wounded hand into a fist. He looked at the man forcing him to retreat.
"I am not a coward. I’m not leaving!"
The next mont the mory snapped shut.
Zaber slowly straightened.
He did not look at the ground.
His breathing gradually steadied.
"The soul chain..." he whispered. "It can see mories too?"
He slowly lowered his hands from his head.
"I saw Heynler’s mory..." he thought. "But there is a price."
The pain had been overwhelming.
"So this is the cost..." he reflected inwardly.
A short while later he gathered his thoughts. He stood up and began walking again.
After a few steps he changed direction. Toward the ridge, deeper into the trees.
"The city..." he thought. "It looks far more dangerous than I expected. I need to recover fully before entering."
He glanced at his clothes, at his condition.
"Appearance matters too. Now I know exactly where the bandits are."
His upper body leaned slightly forward; the tip of his sword dragged along the ground.
Yet his steps did not falter.
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