The bandit leader's face is a canvas of pain and fear under my calculated blows. We have run through trees and forest. 'Where is your base?' I demand, my voice steady as another hit lands
"Just straight from here," he manages to say, the words muffled by a swelling lip. Yet, I don't hold back, my hand swings again, connecting with his cheek. "Why hitting me again? I am telling the truth."
"Well, just maybe you are lying to me." My smirk slices through the tension as suspicion gleams in my eyes. "Dea, can you see anything?"
Dea, loyal and swift, transforms into a sphere of invisibility and ascends, giving me the eyes of an eagle from above. "Yes master, there is a big simple base made by wood log. I will send the image to Master."