Rus nodded slightly as the explanation finally resolved a question that had long lingered in his mind—if the Bloody Highlands were teeming with bandits, then who exactly were they plundering?
Surely it couldn't be an endless cycle of bandits robbing each other like some kind of perpetual motion machine?
Now the answer became clear. Where there were settlements, there would naturally be trade. And with trade came profit. That was how the Highlands managed to sustain so many marauders.
"It was at Rustwater Oasis," Simon began quietly. "That's where I… made my first mistake."
His voice faltered, and a shadow passed over his face. "We shouldn't have gone there. But everyone was utterly exhausted. So we stopped at a small inn called The Sand Fox's Den."
"We remained as cautious as possible—drank only the water we brought, ate only our own rations. But… the incident still happened."
