With his mindset reset, Rhode felt a clarity he hadn't known in years, his very spirit feeling refined, his power settling into a sharper, more potent state. But this new acuity only made the analysis more stark.
My combat power sits around five to six million. Aira's was likely similar before... but after this Zenkai boost from near-death, she'll leap to seven, maybe even eight million.
The math was brutal. In less than two years of real time, she had gone from a few thousand to millions, a growth rate that dwarfed even his own prodigious advancement.
"He's really not holding back, is he?" Rhode muttered, the curse aimed at the absurd pace of their rivalry, at the universe itself for spawning such a relentless counterpart.
The immediate threat was manageable. Aira hadn't yet mastered the instant, economical burst of Great Ape Power that he used. He could still end a fight quickly if he struck first. But her drive was a constant pressure. A single month of his peaceful life on Earth, and she'd closed the gap. The Hyperbolic Time Chamber was the great equalizer, a cheat code for the determined.
Damn that chamber, he thought, not for the first time.
But complaints were useless. The only answer was to match her step for step, to push even harder.
He looked down at Aira's unconscious form, then at his own hands. A dark, efficient idea surfaced. A near-death experience of my own. After eight cumulative years of foundational training and technique mastery on Yardrat and in his own chamber, a Zenkai boost now would be monumental.
He raised a hand to open a portal, then hoisted Aira over his shoulder. Self-harm was inelegant, prone to miscalculation. He needed an external agent. A proper villain.
Frieza? Out of the question. He'd sworn to send the tyrant to the afterlife, and he couldn't back that boast yet. Zarbon? Too weak. King Cold? The patriarch of the Cold Force... a being of immense, historic power, yet not on the same apocalyptic tier as his son. A perfect whetstone.
After depositing the still-unconscious Aira safely in her room at Capsule Corp, Rhode spent a few hours in focused preparation. Then, he focused his mind on a specific, tyrannical ki signature he'd long ago cataloged from galactic datafiles.
Swish.
The opulent, heated halls of Capsule Corp vanished, replaced by the biting cold and stark, glacial architecture of a frozen world. He stood in a grand hall of ice and dark metal, where King Cold, massive and imposing, was holding court, a goblet in hand.
Rhode didn't hesitate. His power exploded from a dead standstill. Energy coalesced in his palm into a sphere of brilliant, condensed destruction, and he thrust it directly at the Frost Demon's face.
"Bastard!" King Cold roared, surprise turning to fury. He brought up a hand, a purple barrier of energy flashing to life.
**BOOM!**
The collision obliterated the palace. Ice shards and metal supports rained down as the magnificent structure became instant ruins.
"You dare?!" King Cold bellowed, emerging from the smoke, his power now fully unleashed, a monstrous pressure that warped the freezing air. He closed the distance in a blink, his fist aimed to obliterate.
Rhode grinned, a savage, purposeful expression. He raised his arms in a token defense, making no attempt to dodge or match the force.
**THWUMP-CRACK.**
King Cold's fist, wreathed in annihilating energy, punched straight through Rhode's guard and into his torso. Rhode felt ribs, organs—everything in the path—disintegrate. Agony, white-hot and total, consumed him. He was sent flying, blood spraying in an arc, to land as a broken, gasping heap in the snow and rubble.
"Tch. All show," King Cold sneered, examining his bloodied fist. "Pathetic." He raised his other hand, a new energy sphere forming to vaporize the remains.
His eyes narrowed. The body was gone.
"WHAT?!" King Cold's roar of fury shook the glaciers. "FIND HIM! FIND THAT INSECT AND BRING ME HIS HEAD!"
Back on Earth, inside the sanctity of his Time Chamber, Rhode's body rematerialized, crumpled on the floor. He was a hair's breadth from death, every breath a wet, ragged agony. But through the pain, a fierce, triumphant smile touched his bloody lips.
Perfect. The catalyst was acquired. Now, for the reward. He focused the last of his will, channeling the Recovery Technique inward, beginning the agonizing, transformative process of healing. The Zenkai was coming.
While King Cold raged on his ice-bound world, searching for a ghost, Rhode stood on the vibrant, grassy plains of Namek. The air was thick with life and moisture, a stark contrast to the sterile cold he'd just escaped.
Whoosh.
He let out a slow breath, feeling the new, profound strength coursing through his veins. A flicker of retrospective danger crossed his mind—it had been a razor's edge gamble—but the result was undeniable.
The plan had been meticulous. Before confronting King Cold, he'd borrowed a spacecraft from Tights (with a functioning healing pod), prepared a Senzu Bean in the most readily absorbable form (held in his cheek), and mentally rehearsed the Recovery Technique. The goal was near-total bodily destruction, not oblivion. He needed to cheat death, not greet it.
It had worked. The Senzu alone had not only restored him but triggered a massive Zenkai boost. Yet, Rhode suspected that because his mind had never truly accepted death—secure in his backups—some dormant potential might have remained untapped.
Hence, Namek. The Grand Elder, after listening to Rhode's respectful request, had agreed to help. "I will do what I can," the ancient Namekian had rumbled. The unlocking process was less dramatic than for others, given Rhode's already refined state, but it was a final, crucial polish, scraping the last reserves of latent power from his Saiyan cells.
Now, standing back on Earth, the difference was palpable.
"You're awake?" Rhode asked as Aira appeared before him, drawn by his significantly altered energy signature.
Aira studied him, her gaze sharp. The chaotic emotions from their last encounter were gone, replaced by a simmering, competitive focus. She opened her mouth, closed it, then finally managed a stiff, "Hurry up and get stronger. I'll challenge you again."
With that, she turned on her heel and marched away, her steps oddly quick, almost fleeing the scene.
Still so stubborn, Rhode thought, shaking his head with a faint smile. Her mind was anything but calm; if it were, she'd have sensed the gulf between them now and chosen her words more carefully. He didn't need his Mind Reading Technique to see the conflict—it was written in the tension of her shoulders.
After his near-death Zenkai and the Grand Elder's awakening, Rhode's power had stabilized around ten million. Aira, by his refined senses, was at roughly eight million—formidable, but no longer his equal.
Hmm?
His thoughts were interrupted as Aira abruptly teleported back, reappearing directly in front of him. She stared at him, her piercing eyes sweeping from his head to his toes in a rapid, intense appraisal.
Then, something unexpected happened. A vivid, deep blush rapidly spread across her fair skin, coloring her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The fierce warrior was suddenly, unmistakably, flustered.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She just stared, her earlier bravado completely evaporated under the weight of... whatever she was now realizing.
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