Chapter 1: Welcome to China
Late evening
After a spartan dinner with his cousin, Cao Cao returned alone to the convocation chamber, where the silver-eyed beauty awaited him. There was no real source of light except the candles on his nearby table, the lanterns that hung from above, and the smiling moon. She stood before him, her amused silver eyes refusing to speak of the secrets of her land or of her so-called "Organization." Was he inspecting her… or the other way round? As his new bodyguard, she did not budge, only stood at attention. But still, he felt her gaze on him, scrutinizing his mantle, his cloak, and his breastplate. His mild scowl, his stern countenance. He knew he was being watched, and she knew that he could sense it. Why else would she be smirking?
He enjoyed that. That meant that she was not a mindless soldier, but a truly thinking warrior. She certainly looked like she had potential. And ever since the Yellow Turban Rebellion1 that had seen him rise to power as a military commander, he had always been looking for potential.
"Tell me, woman," he nodded, breaking the awkward silence. "Do the monsters your master speak of truly exist? They sound… outlandish – almost too terrible to be true."
A brief pause, and then, an affirmative nod from her, as if she was not sure that he deserved her verbal response. "The men of the Organization do not lie, at least not in these circumstances," she smiled. "But now that I serve you and not them, I can no longer guarantee the truth that my master does not lie."
"You suspect me of deceit?" His eyebrow shot up. "I am insulted."
And impressed.
"But, I suppose you can always enlighten me further on the situation with these Yoma later," he conceded, strolling towards the yellow throne and seating himself upon it. "For now, I would rather have you inspected," he declared, stroking his goatee and feigning his usual severity that so many thought was real.
"Why the suspicion?" she asked, catching him off-guard. Resting back, he cocked his head, attempting to see past those irises, past those eyes. They shone with caring and compassion, no doubt. He was an avid reader of books and of people, and he could instantly tell that deep down, Heaven had given her a fundamentally benevolent heart. Yet despite the inherent kindness that he saw, she still carried herself with an otherworldly arrogance, something that was… intriguing. He did not approve of it, but neither did he wish to condemn her for it. She exuded a rebellious spirit – something… something he could not discern immediately. Had it been a normal human, it would have been a simpler matter. But this woman was a different story. She suggested laudable intelligence, and substantial power. And her power was not that of a mere soldier or warrior; this aura that she exuded… was not entirely human. Could it be that she herself was created from the same chi Ermita spoke of? That so-called Yoki?
Yes, it had to be. And if that were true, then China's potential adversaries, these alleged Yoma, must possess power beyond that of humans as well.
Invasion or not, it is unwise to spurn her now, he observed silently.
"Ermita conveniently forgot to tell you that I also possess the half-blood of Yoma," she declared suddenly. "Knowing that, are you suspicious that my breed of warriors are a hidden front for attacking your people?"
To her genuine surprise, his voice was calm, almost indulgent. "I have already deduced your not-so-human origins. I noticed your otherworldly aura the moment our eyes first met. Do not underestimate my capacity for understanding nature… and that which is opposed to nature. But more importantly, I am not afraid." He smiled. "It seems many more of your kind will be arriving in China soon. I believe that you will be forced to fight those who do not arrive in Wei and pledge their allegiance to me, for I do not think that your… Organization… has taken into account that we are currently mired in civil war."
"Well then," pressed Galatea, crossing her arms, "do you trust me, or not?"
He stared at her, her sensuous body and her curious, blonde hair. He looked at her lush lips, her arrogant gait, and her demanding face.
She is ethereally beautiful. Like Nu Wa, the Goddess of Creation.
He licked his lips inconspicuously. "Rest assured. I believe those who sent you here. Stay. Serve me. Protect the vision that I nurture for this nation, for this world. I believe that Heaven's will is apparent when your former masters have sent you – a most powerful warrior of your realm – to my Court. Fitting. I am the only man that has what it takes to bring an end to the chaos. And I want you to see this future that I will build."
Galatea seemed slightly roused. "Vision?"
He quickly and shrewdly seized on her brief display of curiosity. "Do my words pique your interest?"
"More than I would like," admitted Galatea, "but… I'm happy to play along."
He closed his eyes briefly, sitting back. "My vision… it is a vision of a world freed from the chaos of war. No," he corrected himself, "that is something that many leaders in our long history have tried and failed. It is a broken promise, one that the masses are rightfully distrustful of. But I am different. My ambition towers over all others, including Liu Bei, the self-proclaimed heir to the Han, and Sun Quan, King of Wu. Neither of them can surpass me in this respect. Sun Quan fights merely for his own Kingdom; self-serving youngsters like him are doomed to an ignominious end. Liu Bei is… slightly different. He fights to restore the Han, that decrepit old Dynasty that has lost Heaven's Mandate. He does not realize that his dream of returning China to its so-called former glory is nothing more than regression into authoritarian tyranny – an intolerable regression that I swore to combat."
He grimaced. "And so I stand against those, even old friends, who cling so desperately to the relics of the past."
She shook her head. "And… your point?"
"I would have thought it was obvious." His dark eyes flashed. "I will forge a world where talent and vision, not birthright, determines a person's glory. Where neither Emperor nor Lord is needed. Only then will the world's potential shine forth – as a true meritocracy, where those who are fit to guide, will guide, and those fit to fight, will fight."
She suppressed her honest astonishment. "You sound like a revolutionary, with some rather avant-garde ideals. And here I was, thinking that I was stuck with another man who wants supreme power. The power of the Emperor, I'm guessing?"
"Contrary to your first impression, I have never desired the glory of the Throne. I may be Prime Minister, but that is merely a means to my end. Besides, as Imperial Chancellor, I wield more power than His Highness himself. No one will admit that, of course. But this is always the case when the world's so-called Emperor is weak and inadequate," he muttered contemptuously, almost inaudibly.
She looked suspiciously at him, but it was becoming more difficult to maintain her act. She decided to cut to the chase. "Liu Bei and Sun Quan. Wei and Wu. That's fine and dandy. But what of me?"
"Excuse me?"
"My orders from Ermita are now fulfilled. And as he has handed me over to you, he is my master no longer. At least, that's what I would prefer. That's why I ask: where do I fit into all this? Into this web of deceit that you and your rival Kings have spun? Into… your grand vision?"
Cao Cao grinned wolfishly. "Come closer, sharp-tongued woman."
The moon beamed as Galatea obeyed. She sidled forward and stopped before his sitting form, her legs almost touching his. He stared up at her, past her thighs, up her slender body, and finally into her eyes. She did not flinch, and they stared at one another for several full minutes.
It felt rather unusual, rather refreshing. His consorts always averted their eyes when he spoke to them, and when he bedded them, they would cry his Lordship's name, but still lower their faces in puerile acquiescence. Even his wife would do the same on occasion, as if she was completely overcome by his force of personality alone. It was rather… unfulfilling. It seemed that he could only find entertaining, worthy companions in his enemies! And yet this woman, clearly of common birth, clad in a rather dull-looking outfit, and obviously subordinate to that crusty old man in the black robes… she possessed a spirit that he could very well call his own.
She was interesting. Very interesting. Certainly, she would not bore him.
"Your first task is to not speak of what I have told you beyond these walls, for I have enlightened no one else of my ultimate aspiration except my clansmen. I require this level of supremacy to realize my aspiration, this new world of mine. I need as much… power as I can attain without becoming a slave to it. Surely you understand."
"Fair enough," came her quiet reply.
"Now it remains for me to ask you again. Are you willing to assume your vocation as my Tigress Guard?"
"Are you – the de facto dictator of this entire nation – asking me?" laughed Galatea, as she shifted closer. He did not discourage her. "You don't order me to kneel before you immediately?"
"I certainly will not stop you. But I have never asked any of my men to kneel before me as a pledge of obedience. All I have asked of them is to place their trust in me, to give me the trust that is required for an administrative and military unit to function efficiently. And I would treat you the same way," he stated, his deep voice now almost husky. "Given the rather sudden burden of a bodyguard that has been thrust upon you, I believe that you deserve a division of your own, and a more… befitting name. Hence, Tigress Guard."
"Charming," sniffed Galatea. Smiling, she brushed back her hair and genuflected, slowly lowering herself before him, until her chest was about the level of his knees. Although she was surprised at her heart's quickening beat, she remained obediently kneeling before his seated form, well aware of the visual feast that she was bestowing on him. Parting her soft lips, she bowed her head and swore her loyalty to him, although she sounded anything but meek.
"I pledge myself, body and soul, to you, Master Cao Cao."
"Good," he commended, his eyes intense, as Galatea looked up, simpering mock-coquettishly. "Very good. In the next few days, you will inspect my armies with me, and prepare them for war against Wu… and these so-called Yoma, of course. With you by my side, neither demon nor human can stand before me. Yes…" he unexpectedly smiled at her. "It is late. I will have my attendant show you to your room. You must be exhausted."
They did not take their eyes off each other. Neither spoke again for several brief moments, and despite the edgy excitement that pulsated in the air, there was a certain… peculiar serenity between the two, as if they had assented to each other's mercy as early as their first conversation.
Her mercy as his guardian, and his mercy as her Lord…
The quiet tension between the Imperial Chancellor and the Claymore grew overpowering, to say the least. Yet her words were sarcastic as she continued to kneel submissively, watching his rather pleased countenance. "This country had better be worth my time," she said offhandedly, as his gloved hand reached out to caress her chin. She did not pull away. "Your vision had better be worth my time."
"Oh, I trust it will be," replied Cao Cao, making no effort to hide his enjoyment at the soft contact, his triumphant sneer matching hers. "And before I forget my own manners: welcome to my home, Galatea. Welcome to China."
*
The room was bizarre, alien. She did not care that this was a private quarter that was granted only to Cao Cao's elite guards. It was uncomfortable, too sanitized, too elaborate, too… luxurious. Surely the average Wei soldier did not recuperate in such decadent conditions? Wood everywhere. The windows were misshapen as far as she was concerned, with their circular configuration, along with the irritatingly cramped bed, complete with utterly unnecessary ornaments and a canopy that seemed to suffocate the freedom that she, as a warrior of the Organization, enjoyed when she hunted Yoma alone.
She would always rest underneath the twinkling, benevolent stars of the Isles. Surely they were the same stars that she gazed at now? She could only see them glimmering faintly, outside this circular window of hers, smiling down from above on the fair capital of Xuchang. Now, she would have to adjust herself to life in the city, and one that she was rather unfamiliar with. Despite Cao Cao's estimable intelligence and his willingness to abandon his native tongue for her sake, his accent was not perfect, and she doubted there were many as linguistically accommodating as he. She also dreaded imagining having to read those admittedly beautiful logograms they called "characters" and "calligraphy." They were everywhere around the palace; they must be a privilege of the wealthy and influential.
Having fulfilled her duty to her former master and pleased her new one, she finally let go of her persona and her façade in the privacy of this room. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of exhaustion, and her sardonic smile crumbled, leaving her with the pensive, shining countenance of worry and trepidation. How would she fare in this country called China? Already having discarded her armour, pauldrons and cape, she threw off her remaining garments, exposing herself completely to the cool wind that passed by the red, thick curtain. Naked and barefoot, she paused, listening to the shuffling of the servants' feet in the distance beyond the tinkling curtain.
She shook her head. What a strange nation.
What a compelling man.
He speaks of his vision with such passion. A passion I have not witnessed amongst Ermita, Rimuto or the others. But even if I trust that he has revealed his plans to me sincerely… what plans does he have for me?
I can already guess, from the way he looked at me – from the way he caressed me. At least… I know I won't be bored as his Tigress Guard, she concluded silently, lying awkwardly down on the canopied bed, closing her eyes and attempting to sink into sleep. She could almost feel her new Lord's fingers still trailing lightly along her chin, her cheek, and for some strange reason, her lips.
Settle down, sister. He didn't go that far. But she could not lie to herself because somehow, he had managed to touch her heart. Where else on her body he intended to touch, she did not care. That he had managed to touch her heart at all was troubling enough.
She felt herself shivering, even as she slipped into unconscious bliss. Her dreams were of the seas, the endless rolling seas. And the waves, with the rumbling of Cao Cao's calm voice.
1 The Yellow Turban Rebellion (184 CE) was a peasant rebellion that required an alliance of provincial governors and officers to put down. It was during this time that Cao Cao's rise to power began.