While the bandit leader was indeed a beastly figure, he possessed a certain level of cunning. After meticulously inspecting the spoils of the day, particularly fixating on Zagonnas, he returned to his abode perched atop the highest peak of the mountain to assert his authority as the stronghold's chief.
The dwelling boasted a window that, when opened, presented a sheer cliff spanning a great depth below.
Zagonnas, rendered powerless, had been brought in early, his bindings carelessly removed by the bandits who harboured no fears of his escape.
Left alone in the room for a considerable time, Zagonnas commenced his search. To his dismay, the room held no treasures, only wardrobes containing clothes and blankets.
After some consideration, Zagonnas selected a clean set of black attire and tore a piece of black fabric, intending to wrap his own clothing for departure.
Satisfied with his findings, he closed the wardrobe doors, only to catch a glimpse of something white within. Opening it once more, Zagonnas extracted a lightweight, warm white fur cloak, its pristine condition surprising him.
A fortuitous discovery indeed, the cloak would make a fitting gift for his lady at home. Smiling to himself, Zagonnas carefully folded the cloak and placed it on the black fabric.
As he began to disrobe to don the black ensemble, the bandit leader made his untimely return.
Upon seeing Zagonnas partially undressed, the bandit leader's eyes greedily glinted as he advanced, jesting about Zagonnas's eagerness.
Undeterred, Zagonnas continued the task at hand, questioning the bandit leader's conscience for his malevolent deeds.
"Consequences? Haha! My luck knows no bounds."
"Luck?" Zagonnas retorted, a subtle raise of his eyebrow indicating his scepticism.
"Beauty, I possess not only luck but hardness in every regard. Come now, let me treat you well."
The bandit leader extended his arms towards Zagonnas, who swiftly evaded the advance, not a single hair out of place.
"Chief, do not rush. The night is long, time is on our side. Let me ask you, in this world, who do you deem the most formidable?"
With his upper garments neatly folded atop the white fur cloak, Zagonnas calmly raised the question while dressing in black attire.
Perplexed by Zagonnas's actions, the bandit leader answered, acknowledging Zagonnas as the most formidable figure, though tainted with rumours of falling into a dark path and causing havoc within the sword sect.
Chortling, Zagonnas finished dressing in black attire, fastening his belt and removing the wooden hairpin, letting his long hair cascade freely, his demeanour transforming.
"Surprising to hear these rumours in this secluded wilderness. However, none of these tales holds any truth."
As Zagonnas lifted his gaze, a chill ran down the bandit leader's spine, prompting him to draw his blade instinctively.
"Who are you truly?"
"Beauty? What's the matter? Chief, feeling a bit apprehensive?"
"You?"
Despite the bandit leader's martial prowess, in the face of overwhelming power, he dared not resist, sensing not only the steel blade at his throat but also the imposing force exuded by Zagonnas.
"Wielder of the Exquisite Water Sword, Zagonnas."
With the name uttered, the deed was done.
As Zagonnas lowered the blade and stepped aside, blood gushed from the bandit leader's neck. A few droplets stained Zagonnas's attire, a stark contrast to his usual bloodless executions, irking him. Discarding the weapon, he wiped away the splatters with disdain, his face now concealed behind a black cloth save for his intense gaze.
Originally inclined to exterminate the bandit den outright, a glance towards the mountain deity's key hanging by the bandit leader's waist altered Zagonnas's course. Over the years, the bandits had amassed a significant hoard of riches, and it seemed only fitting not to leave empty-handed.
Securing the key, Zagonnas wrapped it in the black fabric, slung it across his body, and departed through the door.
Within moments of Zagonnas uncovering a large chest of gold in a nearby storage shed, the entrance to the Black Wind Stronghold was awash in a river of blood, cries of agony rending the night sky.
Cendrarsa, holding a dagger emitting a faint green hue, anointed with deadly poison, stood near the glowing embers, visibly trembling from the cold endured on her journey from the mountains.
Despite her recent spree of bloodshed, the flames offered solace, and she remained rooted by the fire, ensuring she absorbed every ounce of warmth it offered.
The bandits, previously rebellious, now frozen in fear, dared not make a move as they witnessed the ominous figure standing motionless by the fire.
"Who are you? What grievances do you hold against our Black Wind Stronghold? Why such ruthless vengeance?" The bald second-in-command, emboldened, posed the question.
Cendrarsa, still gazing into the flames, responded to the inquiry.
"Last winter, you abducted two maidens from Maple Village. Do you recall? I now grant you a chance at life. Tell me, who were the perpetrators behind the desecration of those maidens, and I shall spare you."