“Who in the blazes are you?” Korr demanded, his horse tossing its massive head in agitation as the bailiff tried to maintain his towering posture.“Toren,” the accountant replied mildly, pulling a folded stack of parchment from his inner pocket as though he were presenting a routine bill of lading. “Traveling auditor, acting under the temporary provisions of the Great Imperial Charter of the Third Era, Section Four, Paragraph Twelve.”Korr stared at him blankly. The junior enforcers behind the bailiff shifted in their saddles, their low-tier glowing pikes buzzing with an erratic, nervous frequency.“Imperial charter?” Korr spat, though a flicker of genuine uncertainty crossed his heavy features. “The Empire fell apart decades ago, foreigner. There are no charters here except the will of the Pillar and the ledger of the regional diocese.”“True enough,” Toren conceded smoothly, smoothing out a crease in the parchment with the edge of his thumb

“Hold your positions,” Toren said. His voice was not loud, but it carried an absolute, flat certainty that cut straight through the midday heat.The junior enforcers froze, their boots hovering over the stirrups as if invisible weights had suddenly dropped onto their shoulders.Bailiff Korr hauled back on his reins, his horse scrambling sideways in the dust.“What are you doing?” Korr roared, glaring at his own men. “I gave an order! Smash those doors!”“You did,” Toren agreed politely. He didn't flinch as the massive draft horse tossed its head only inches from his face. “However, under Section Nine of the very same municipal code, unauthorized seizure of private property without a signed magistrate warrant constitutes an illegal conversion of assets.”Korr’s face darkened from mottled red to an alarming shade of purple.“An illegal what?”“Conversion of assets,” Toren repeated, helpfully tapping the edge of his pa