"I sensed it…" A woman's melodious voice rose from the planet.
As the voice faded, star-bright motes of light flickered into being around her. The lights gathered and condensed into the form of a stunning woman with a graceful figure and peerless looks.
"Pa!"
Amarella reappeared beside the Grand Priest and offered a light curtsy.
"Amarella, no need to be so formal," the Grand Priest waved it off.
"His angelic power… it carries a trace of what I left behind—but only a small portion." Amarella lifted her gaze toward the far-off arena. Though tens of thousands of kilometers away, she could still see Ken clearly over there.
Starlight glimmered in Amarella's eyes; her expression turned pensive, as if following a train of thought to its end.
"I saw that as well," the Grand Priest nodded. "And the rest—by far the larger part—has no connection to any angel at all."
"What would cause that? Did he really cultivate that portion of angelic power on his own?" Amarella's curiosity deepened.
"I'm not entirely sure… yet," the Grand Priest slowly shook his head.
"Wasn't it from the Great Priestess?" Amarella suddenly thought of something and asked.
"It wasn't her," the Grand Priest replied with certainty. "But that's not important anymore. What matters is this: if we let him serve as this universe's trainee angel, will that greatly help your recovery?"
"It will," Amarella admitted with a nod. "If he comes to me and we train together, it could yield twice the result for half the effort. The fragment of my angelic power within him should increase greatly, and my body will stabilize much sooner."
"That's all I needed to hear. I know what to do." The Grand Priest rose gently into the air.
"Thank you, Grand Priest," Amarella bowed again.
"Rest well." With a casual wave, the Grand Priest left the white planet in an instant and returned above the arena.
After he departed, Amarella's body slowly faded, scattering until she vanished completely.
On the arena.
Zamasu's heels scraped the tiles as he crab-walked backward, shivering uncontrollably.
This dreadful demon!
How can such a terrifying mortal exist in this world?
I'm a god, yet I'm completely helpless against him!
"What should I turn you into?" Majin Buu smiled down at the seated Zamasu, like a fat cat toying with a mouse.
Zamasu raised a hand in front of him as if it could serve as a shield. But anyone could see his eyes were packed full of fear.
Too terrifying.
Utterly terrifying.
Zamasu absolutely did not want to be turned into chocolate, or a cookie, or a chocolate cookie.
"Oh right—Merus said even if I turn you into a chocolate cookie, I can't eat you," Buu suddenly sounded disappointed, scratching his head. "If I eat you, you'll die… and then I can't become a God of Destruction."
Zamasu said nothing, face pale, body trembling.
"Just tossing you out now feels unsatisfying… how should I play with you?" Buu pondered, then grabbed a handful of his own belly and tore off a chunk of flesh.
At that horrifying sight, Zamasu's pupils almost leapt from their sockets.
This monster!
Buu stretched the torn meat into a strip.
"W-what are you going to do?" Zamasu's face twisted.
"Heh-heh." Buu's grin turned wicked.
Zamasu had no idea what Buu was planning, but he knew it meant torment. I am a god—how could I be humiliated by such a creature?
Should I jump off the ring?
If I'm eliminated, that pink blob won't be allowed to attack me anymore.
Thinking fast, Zamasu flicked a glance at the arena's edge.
He was still over a dozen meters away—but to a god, that wasn't much.
Gritting his teeth, he began scooting outward.
"You're not getting away." Buu bared his teeth in a smile and flicked the meat-strip.
Snap!
In midair the strip unraveled into fine pink threads.
In an instant they wove into a web—a pink web—standing upright on the arena floor, right behind Zamasu.
Buu took a short running start and launched a kick.
"Arrgh—!"
Zamasu's body sailed up and slammed into the web, which stuck him fast.
Pinned spread-eagle, both arms and legs held.
"Can't move now, can you?" Buu sauntered toward him, grinning.
Zamasu's face went from bad to worse. He struggled frantically to break free.
No matter how he thrashed, he couldn't.
"What are you doing?" Broly trotted over, curious.
"Heh-heh. He can't move. Got any good ways to torture him?" Buu turned, smiling at Broly.
"Tickle him," Broly poked Buu in the armpit with a finger. "Here's super ticklish."
But the moment Broly poked, Buu's butt twinged.
That was the exact finger you used on my butt earlier.
Buu glowered, cheeks puffing.
"I remember— you poked my butt," Buu said darkly, glaring at Broly.
"It's fine. Past is past," Broly replied. "We're an alliance now, right?"
Buu thought it over… Hm. Fair point.
And we are allies.
"Happy cooperation!" Buu stuck out a friendly hand.
"Happy cooperation." Broly nodded.
Ken and Merus traded a look.
"Guess that's what they call 'no fight, no friendship,'" Ken mused.
"Yeah… I didn't expect those two to team up," Merus sounded a bit conflicted.
"Ahh, they've already allied, but Hit and Toppo are still going at it," Amarella said calmly, watching their duel on the ring.
"Then I'll do the poking! He claims he's a god!" Buu beamed, circling behind Zamasu.
"I'll cheer you on," Broly nodded.
Zamasu clenched up, face darkening even more.
I'm a Supreme Kai-in-training.
Must I be humiliated like this?
"Heh-heh, here I go!" Buu's grin widened as he extended a single finger.
Zamasu writhed even harder.
Pff!
Buu's finger jabbed Zamasu.
"AAAAHH—!"
A scream, torn straight from the soul.
The gods watching all covered their faces at once, speechless.
"Hey, Merus! Tell your fighter to knock Zamasu off the stage already!" Rumsshi couldn't stand it—he felt like the one being jabbed.
You're slapping our Universe 10 in the face!
Who does that?!
Rumsshi's trunk knotted up in his fist; his head flushed scarlet.
"Lord Rumsshi, squeezing your own trunk like that will make it hard to breathe," Kusu gently reminded him.
Rumsshi startled and released it.
"Ahem… apologies, Lord Rumsshi," Merus winced, then cupped his hands and shouted to the ring, "Buu! Stop playing and eliminate your opponent!"
Buu glanced over, made a goofy face at Merus.
Merus could only sigh.
"Wanna play with someone else first?" Broly suggested.
"Who?" Buu perked up instantly.
"That bearded guy calls himself a trainee God of Destruction. Same title as us," Broly jerked his chin toward Toppo. "Let's handle him."
Buu nodded fast—he got it.
"You mean toss that purple guy out?" Buu asked innocently.
"Hit's head is… special. Save him for last," Broly shook his head.
"Special head?" Buu scratched his scalp, puzzled.
"Come here, I'll show you." Broly led Buu behind a raised slab of ring stone.
Buu peered out, then at Hit in the distance.
His eyes went wide with shock—and sympathy.
That head really was… unique.
"Got it?" Broly asked.
Buu bobbed his head, sympathy deepening.
"Then the bearded one first." Buu grinned. He fully approved of Broly's plan.
Not far away.
Hit and Toppo's fight raged on.
Thud!
Toppo got tagged in the nose again, almost going down.
He rubbed at it, eyeing Hit warily.
"I advise you to use your true power. Otherwise, I'll eliminate you," Hit said evenly. "I may be an assassin, but I prefer a fair fight to defeat a trainee God of Destruction."
"Hmph. I will, whether you say so or not," Toppo nodded. "I know if this continues, I'll lose to you."
Hit's lips curled with quiet confidence.
Even if Toppo got serious, Hit believed he'd still win.
Looks like I'm the strongest candidate among all universes here.
"Then pardon my impoliteness." Toppo inhaled. Purple-red aura surged over him.
"At last, Toppo's getting serious," Belmod chuckled. "I didn't catch how that 'Hit' fellow strikes, but it won't matter now."
"Mm-hmm," Marcarita nodded.
"Ready, Hit?" Toppo settled into an attacking stance.
"Come on." Hit kept both hands in his pockets.
Whoosh!
Toppo charged.
"Time-Skip!"
Hit froze Toppo with his instant halt of time.
Only a tenth of a second—but at their level, that was enough to be lethal.
Hit flicked his finger for Toppo's chest.
But as he struck, Toppo moved.
Hit's eyes narrowed, surprise flashing.
Smack!
Toppo's left hand snapped up, catching Hit's fist.
"Hnh. Finally caught it," Toppo grinned.
Hit's face shifted.
Toppo slammed a knee toward Hit's gut. Hit sprang back, dodging—yet Toppo was faster, surging in and driving a right kick forward.
BAM!
The kick landed squarely in Hit's abdomen.
Hit's features twisted; the blow sent him skidding back, boots carving twin gouges in the tile. When he finally stopped, blood already traced from the corner of his mouth.
He wiped it away, face darkening.
"Your trick isn't so special. Raise your energy high enough and it breaks," Toppo smiled.
Hit snorted, silent—his confidence ebbing.
Toppo wasn't wrong. When the opponent's power outstripped his, the Time-Skip's effect degraded—its freeze grew ever shorter.
"Shall we try again?" Toppo smiled, then added with self-reproach, "I paid for my arrogance earlier. I thought I could beat you without going all out."
"It's over," Belmod said with a smile. "Seems we won't need Jiren. For Toppo, handling one assassin is easy. The rest look unimpressive; Merus's and that human-angel Ken's trainees are just here for comic relief."
"Hee, Ken and his God of Destruction is just a kid," Marcarita giggled and nodded.
"Oh? Looks like they plan to attack Toppo," Belmod glanced at Buu and Broly and called out, "Toppo! Your left!"
Toppo looked left at once—and saw Broly and Buu.
"You two want to have a go?" he laughed. "Fine by me. Come all three—eliminating you together will truly prove my strength!"
Whoosh!
Buu, unwilling to be looked down on, lunged first and threw a punch.
But Toppo was faster. A clean, rising uppercut cracked Buu on the chin.
Buu tumbled end over end and splatted on the tiles—then kept rolling like a big meatball.
Thump!
He caromed into the pink web, and his bulk catapulted Zamasu free.
"Gah—!"
Web and Zamasu both sailed off the stage.
Zip!
A blink later Zamasu reappeared in the stands—eliminated.
Face blazing, fists shaking, he glared daggers at Buu.
Just you wait!
I'll repay today's humiliation a hundredfold.
And you, Broly—the so-called Legendary Super Saiyan—
You're no better.
I won't forgive either of you.
His eyes seethed with hatred.
"Hmph. How disappointing," Rumsshi rumbled. "I thought you'd at least contribute."
Zamasu said nothing, fists clenching tighter.
"Shall we stay and watch?" Kusu asked.
"Forget it. Too embarrassing. Let's go—what follows doesn't concern us," Rumsshi decided, trunk swaying.
"Very well," Kusu nodded. "But—Lord Rumsshi, one moment."
"Hm?" Rumsshi blinked.
Kusu floated over to Ken.
Ken blinked back at her.
"Ken, are you certain you'll remain in Universe 6?" Kusu fluttered her lashes.
"I prefer girls with ponytails," Ken nodded.
Kusu: "…"
A beat of silence.
"There's a very pretty angel over there with two ponytails. Not tempted?" She pointed toward Marcarita of Universe 11 with a teasing smile.
"Not tempted," Ken shook his head without hesitation.
Amarella stayed quiet at his side.
What's there to consider?
This whole God of Destruction selection is basically decided already. The rest are here to make up the numbers.
Once it's official, Ken and Broly will remain in Universe 18.
Only the Grand Priest and I know that— for now.
(End of Chapter)
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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