The Land of Dragons

The Gummi Ship didn't land in the camp. It hovered silently in the clouds above the Wu Zhong mountains, cloaked and unseen. I descended alone, dropping from the sky like a spear of judgment, my black coat snapping in the wind until I arrived in the center of the training grounds.

Dust billowed out in a perfect circle.

The recruits of the Imperial Army - a ragtag group of farmers, blacksmiths, and idiots - stumbled back, coughing and shielding their eyes.

General Li’s son, Captain Li Shang, drew his sword, his face set in a grim line of defense.

"Who goes there?" he barked, trying to sound authoritative despite the sudden intrusion.

I stood up slowly, dusting off my shoulder. I didn't draw a weapon. I just held up a golden medallion, a little trinket I had forged using the world’s data. It bore the Emperor’s personal seal.

"The High Inspector," I announced, my voice cutting through the wind. "Sent by the Emperor to see if you're raising an army... or a circus."

Shang’s eyes widened. He sheathed his sword instantly and bowed, his stiff military discipline kicking in.

"My apologies, High Inspector. We weren't expecting... a visit."

"Clearly," I said, looking around the camp.

It was a mess. Tents were sagging. The men looked like they had never held a sword in their lives. Yao, a short, angry-looking man with a black eye, was nursing a bruise. Ling was skinny as a rail. Chien-Po was eating a dumpling.

And standing near the back, trying to make herself small, was a scrawny "boy" in ill-fitting armor.

"The Huns are at the border," I said, walking past Shang. "And this is what stands between the Emperor and ****? Rice farmers?"

Chi Fu, the Emperor’s sniveling advisor, hurried over with his clipboard, looking officious. "I have said the same thing, Inspector! These men are incompetent! I have a list of-"

I didn't look at him. I simply backhanded him.

It wasn't a punch; it was a casual dismissal, like swatting a fly.

Thwack.

Chi Fu spun around and face-planted into the dirt, his clipboard scattering.

"Silence," I ordered. "I don't speak to secretaries. I speak to warriors."

The camp went dead silent. The recruits stared at me with terror. Even Shang looked impressed.

"Line up!" I roared. "Inspection! Now!"

The men scrambled. They tripped over each other, dropping spears and helmets, but eventually formed a crooked line.

I walked down the ranks. I moved like a shark in a wading pool. I stopped in front of Yao. I punched him in the gut. He doubled over wheezing.

"Soft," I muttered.

I kicked Ling’s legs out from under him. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

"Unbalanced."

Then, I reached the end of the line.

Fa Ping.

The soldier was small, barely coming up to my chest. "He" was shaking, eyes fixed on the ground, sweat dripping from "his" nose.

I stopped.

I leaned in close.

The smell hit me instantly.

The other men smelled of unwashed armpits, garlic, and stale sweat.

This one... this one smelled of lotus soap, fear, and fabric. Layers and layers of binding cloth wrapped tight around a secret.

"Name," I demanded.

"P-Ping, sir!" The voice was **** deep, cracking slightly. "Fa Ping!"

"Look at me, Fa Ping."

Mulan raised her head. Her dark eyes met mine. She was terrified. She knew that if she was discovered, the penalty was ****. She saw the darkness in my eyes, the intelligence that Shang lacked. She saw a predator who knew exactly what he was looking at.

I reached out.

I placed my hand on her chest.

The soldiers gasped. Shang took a step forward, confused by the breach of protocol.

Mulan flinched, her breath hitching.

Under my palm, I felt the hard, flat surface of the armor. But beneath that, I felt the frantic hammering of a heart that was too fast, too light. And I felt the resistance of the bandages binding her breasts.

I smirked.

"You're tense, soldier," I whispered, leaning down so only she could hear. "You're hiding something."

"I... I..." She stammered, sweat beading on her upper lip. "I'm just... eager to serve, sir!"

"Eager," I repeated, sliding my hand down her chest to her stomach. She sucked in a breath, her knees knocking together. "We'll see about that."

I stepped back, addressing the camp.

"This one," I pointed at Mulan. "Is weak. Undisciplined. Improperly formed."

I looked at Shang.

"I want a private assessment. Tonight. In my tent."

"Sir?" Shang asked, confused. "Ping is... struggling, yes. But a private assessment?"

"Do you question the Emperor's Inspector, Captain?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous octave.

"No, sir!" Shang saluted immediately. "Ping! Report to the Inspector's tent at 1900 hours!"

Mulan went pale. She looked at me, then at Shang, then back at me. She nodded slowly, realizing she had ****.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

I turned and walked toward the largest, most commanding tent in the camp - Chi Fu’s tent, which I was now claiming as my own.

"The rest of you," I called out over my shoulder. "Run laps until you vomit. Then run some more."

I walked into the tent and let the flap fall shut.

I smiled.

The war hadn't even started, and I had already captured the most valuable piece on the board.

Tonight, "Ping" was going to learn what a real inspection felt like.