Imperial Amendment Article 4
Enacted in the 30th Year of the Empire
Clause 1: Throughout Imperial territories, vigilante activities by unauthorized armed groups (hereafter referred to as 'Adventurers') are strictly prohibited.
Clause 2: The term 'Adventurer' refers to any individual or group carrying arms or casting spells of the 3rd class or above without proper registration with the Imperial Security Bureau.
...
Clause 8: After the 34th Year of the Empire, violators of this law may face immediate judgment at the discretion of a dispatched Imperial "Executor."
A massive sandstorm roared across the scorching desert, pushing relentlessly toward a tiny village clustered around an oasis. Riding ahead of the tempest, a lone figure galloped furiously atop a white stallion.
The rider wore an unusual ensemble—white long coat, white trousers, wide-brimmed hat, and rugged gauntlets—all meticulously color-matched in stark white.
"Gotta dodge this storm for a bit. Git a move on, Ross!"
In the heart of the village stood a saloon, flanked by a stable. As the storm closed in, the rider jumped off his horse, didn't bother tying it, and dashed straight into the saloon.
The saloon doors swung open easily, letting in a gust of sandy wind. As soon as they shut, a purple rune stone overhead flashed, and the storm quieted. Every eye turned toward the newcomer, including a scowling half-orc whose whiskey had turned a dusty amber.
The stranger dusted himself off casually, walking up to the barkeep.
"Begging' your pardon, barkeep. I'll cover the cleanup."
His voice was smooth and dignified, with a razor's edge. The barkeep flinched upon seeing his face.
"Well, I'll be... Wait, ain't you—"
"Never mind the cleanup. What about my whiskey, stranger?"
The half-orc's voice dripped venom. The stranger turned slowly, slit eyes glinting from beneath a reptilian face.
"Ho! A dragonoid! Ain't seen yer kind 'round these parts fer ages."
Dragonoids, humanoid dragons covered in scales and crowned with tails, were fearsome-looking yet civil. The stranger politely dipped his head.
"My apologies, sir. Barkeep, whiskey for that table, and me."
Coins clattered onto the bar. The half-orc, mollified, returned to his companions grumbling over a book of Imperial laws.
"So, what the hell's all this? Unauthorized armed group? Executors?"
"Simply put, Karlax, it means folks like us been outlawed for five years. Now them 'Executors' come hunting for us."
The dragonoid stiffened slightly at the mention of 'Executors', but hid it well. The barkeep eyed his attire cautiously.
"Come from the Capital, stranger?"
"I do."
"My daughter studied there. Said folks dress just like yerself."
"Magic, was it?"
The barkeep whispered, wary of the watching half-orc.
"Magic engineering. But now she wants to be an adventurer. I been tryin' to talk sense into her."
"Keep trying. The Empire needs good talent."
"Will do, friend. What brings ya here?"
"Looking for someone."
He unfurled a blank scroll.
"Trascrizione."
A quick spell revealed an elf's stern visage, dressed like a wizard, with an Imperial crest beneath.
"Seen this guy?"
"Oh, I know this old-timer," the half-orc interrupted, clamping a heavy hand on the stranger's shoulder and swigging down his whiskey.
"Yanis Jushe Shvili. Freedom fighter, greatest wizard alive, last true 'hero'. What ya want with him?"
"Under Imperial Amendment Article 4, Yanis Jushe Shvili is wanted for arrest."
The half-orc glanced at the book.
"Yer really huntin' him down? Yanis himself?"
"Among other things, he's wrecked Imperial property and tampered with high-level corporate magic. Also incitin' outlawed adventurer activities."
The half-orc nodded slowly, and the chatter among his companions died down.
"Enough side talk. Where's that elf been hanging around lately?"
"He stayed 'round here 'bout three months, left northbound 'bout a month ago. Didn't say where he headed."
"Ha! Karlax, ya cowardly snake! Spill yer guts that easy 'bout the old man?"
Karlax gave his information easily, but not outta kindness or fear. Soon as he finished speakin', he smoothly drew his sharp dagger and aimed it straight at the dragonoid.
"Seems yer magic made me talk too much, 'Executor'. Guess I can't sit quiet now."
"An half-orc who's murdered three Imperial officers, indeed. Wanted for robbery, blackmail, theft—dangerous feller."
"Well, ain't I well-informed? But I ain't never heard o' no reptilian Executor."
The Executor sighed, reciting formally,
"The Empire still welcomes your skills. Renounce adventurer, swear loyalty, and I, Executor Andrew Miller, will mentor you."
The half-orc sneered.
"Mighty fine last words, Executor Miller."
His blade struck—but halted, frozen in the dragonoid's scales.
Glass shattered. Whiskey froze solid.
"Barkeep, get folks outta here. I'll pay fer damages."
"Damned Empire trouble—everybody out!"
Only the adventurers remained: the half-orc, healer, rogue, and heavy-armored warrior.
"Karlax, he's just a wizard! Finish him quick!"
"I'm... trying!"
But Karlax's hand was frozen solid, spreading rapidly.
"Arrrgh!"
"Sorry, Karlax! Had no choice! Pull yerself together!"
The rogue's arrow struck Karlax's frozen hand, shattering it into icy shards. Painful, yes, but it kept him from turning entirely into an ice statue.
"You all heard my plain enough. I gave you plenty of chances to clear out. But you refused Imperial mercy, so you outlaws...."
The adventurers quickly took up positions. The healer ran to Karlax's aid, the armored warrior held position, cautiously covering her.
The Executor calmly pulled the frozen dagger from his neck, eyes darting around sharply. Something felt off. Glancing upward, he spotted the rogue clinging silently to the ceiling, positioned perfectly for an ambush.
"Four in total, huh?"
Facing the adventurers, he swept aside his coat, revealing not a revolver, but a wand holstered neatly at his side. The adventurers exchanged swift glances, silently coordinating their assault. Miller watched closely, calculating every move.
The temperature inside the saloon plummeted, ice creeping across windows, cracking them ominously.
Crack... crack...
"Time to purge."
Crash!
Sand blew violently inside, chaos signaling the start of combat. The rogue leapt first, twin daggers glinting dangerously.
Executor Miller anticipated the move, swiftly drawing his wand, inscribing intricate symbols in the air as he chanted:
"Gelare-Sanguigno!"
Determined to avoid Karlax's mistake, the rogue went straight for the kill—no hesitation. But Miller's spell was quicker. A chilling aura burst outward from his heart, instantly freezing his skin solid. The rogue, unprepared for the sudden resistance, lost his dagger.
"What the hell kinda spell is this?!"
Still armed, the rogue twisted acrobatically around Miller's waist, gripping his second dagger firmly, ready to plunge it home. But the extreme cold proved disastrous—the rogue's muscles stiffened sharply upon contact.
"Arrgh! My... jewels!"
A blow from Miller's hidden tail threw the rogue clear, tumbling in pain.
"Silenzio Territorio!"
The healer, buying precious time, cast a golden dome of silence. The rogue's screams died out instantly into silent agony. The warrior charged, axe and shield in hand.
Unfazed, Miller grabbed Karlax's frozen dagger, now coated in his own blood, forming a lethal blade of ice. With a precise throw aimed at the warrior's neck, he forced a dodge—but the target was elsewhere.
"Ghhhkk!"
The dagger buried itself in the healer's throat, breaking her concentration. Distracted, the warrior turned briefly, realizing too late his error.
Turning back, he saw a white dragon's open maw spewing an unstoppable storm of ice and frost.
A massive blizzard consumed the saloon, overwhelming the adventurers.
"G-gods… It's him," Karlax groaned, crawling weakly.
"The Empire's Cryomencer… hunts 'dventurers in personal!"
"Nothing personal, Karlax."
Andrew Miller seated himself calmly.
"Why hunt us like beasts?"
Miller threw Yanis's wanted poster at him.
"Empire don't need your kind of heroes anymore. The men strong enough to shape towns and fates with unchecked power."
His voice dripped icy disdain.
"I'm here to hunt that kind of heroes."