[ The claim to being an officer, legionary no less, is one he meets with undisguised disbelief, dark eyebrows lifting up. He would never in a thousand years trust a magic-practicing officer. He cannot imagine the army that would.]

Look around you. These can hardly be said to be 'civilized lands', now can they? You are no officer, sir, and I will not tolerate you claiming so again. You are a mage in uncharted territory, a mage I am sworn by oath to slay outright, and instead I am offering you a way to keep your life. Among civilized men such a gesture would call for gratitude.

[Bennet looks the other man up and down quickly, just for the show of it. He already assessed what weapons this man might carry when first he laid eyes upon him.]

You cannot fight your way out of this and if you try you will die. If you try to draw your dagger I will be upon you and will have snapped your neck before you could have it in hand. Your spells all require a few moments for concentration and I will not give you them. Surrendering is the only way you can hope to survive this.

[There's no particular bravado to the way he says any of that, despite his words. The summation is delivered bluntly, without any hint of emotion.]