Everything has a price. And in a world where life is snuffed out as easily as blowing out a...
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The Price of Power (Dragon Ball Z/SI)
- Thread starter Eternal Yujin
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Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
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Everything has a price. And in a world where life is snuffed out as easily as blowing out a candle, how am I supposed to keep hold of the things that matter when I don't even know if half the things in my noggin are true. Well, there's no Freeza so for the moment, things seem to be alright.
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1. Tough Luck
Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
- Joined
- Oct 1, 2022
- Messages
- 134
- Likes received
- 10,121
Disclaimer: I'm but a humble author. This here is something made by a fan, for other fans.
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 1: Tough Luck
- - -
Red sands, a weird piss-yellow sky, and the sweltering noontide sun. That was what the average Joe would note about Planet Sadala. Or at least that's what I found out after waking up in a ditch and scaring the life out of the hunch-backed old man digging it.
Blinking dark spots out my eyes, I ran them along the familiar open-door buildings running as far as I could see. Nobody feared being robbed. Why would they when you could sense the energy of everyone around?
And if you were good at masking it? Then fair fucks, was the reply by most.
But right now, I was more worried about where I'd find dinner. From atop my perch on one of the many thick-walled buildings, I scouted out today's victim.
He made his way through the market, through the narrow pathway marked by thousands of footsteps that had trod the path before him. I followed from high above, climbing using long-abandoned scaffolding on my way. I soon reached the end of the line, forced to hastily climb down before jumping and splaying myself across the roof of a low building.
Did anyone hear me? I strained my ears over my furiously beating heart to listen. A minute later, I poked my head over the ledge just in time to spot him trudging out of the pathway and into the Bazaar.
He didn't look like a particularly intimidating guy.
That being said, I couldn't see enough of him to tell. Only that he wore a long, flowing brown robe – its low hood pulled over his head. Around his waist hung a pouch. No doubt full of space credits that I could use to buy myself some food and maybe a bed.
Lord knows I'm fed up with the aches in the morning thanks to sleeping on the cold stone floor.
I was just about to make my move when I saw a twitch from a furry-looking brown band around his waist.
I stopped almost as suddenly as I had started, mouth partly open. It wasn't very often that I spotted a tailed Saiyan – not including myself, that is. My eyes fell to the dark brown tail trailing the ground behind me, and an instant later, I squashed the beginnings of what I realised was guilt.
There was no place for it when it came to my survival. Not even a shared experience between tailed Saiyans. For me, guilt was a luxury until I could afford some kind of basic standard of living. At least something like it used to be on Earth, anyway.
The sun arced upward, its heat blistering. The low, stone roofs of Sadalan buildings were pretty good at absorbing its heat but left my feet too toasty than comfortable. The rags I wore clung to my bony frame and my usually wild lion mane of hair drooped with sweat, some of it stuck against my forehead.
I hadn't budged an inch, crouched against the ledge, my eyes pinned on the dilapidated building the man had entered. My feet were blistered and sore, and my stomach groaned feebly, sending aches coursing through my limbs. I remained still. Waiting, watching, taking note of every escape route, every security guard patrol, where all the thugs were hanging around, and the appearance of anyone even distinctly noticeable.
Even if Sadala wasn't as vicious as Planet Vegeta, Saiyans will always be Saiyans. Always looking for a reason to fight. For the thugs, it was 'cause you looked at 'em funny. For the guards, you got too close and looked too poor. The everyday citizen's pretty docile for the most part, but give them a valid enough reason and they would beat you within an inch of your life.
After hours of biding my time, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, a blur of movement filled my vision and a flash of pain erupted across my face.
I teetered backwards, limbs screaming after hours of disuse. My instincts kicked into gear and I lurched forward, tail swishing. I faked a jab, my fist getting caught up in the flowing brown robe that the man wore. I jerked it back a little too harshly and stumbled. He rushed forwards, slamming a brutal set of punches to my chest, arms, and stomach I curled up under.
Ferocious winds brought tears to my eyes, his fists blurred as they rushed towards me. My mind at wit's end, I panicked and lashed my tail. It knocked aside a blow meant for my head and deflected it to my shoulder.
I winced, making a sound caught between a grunt and gasp, and shoulder-checked him, energising my muscles with as much ki as I could afford to. It sent him skidding to the other side of the roof and granted me a moment of rest.
I stepped back and my half-exposed back met the chill of the stony ledge. Hissing, I jerked, taking my eyes off the man for a moment. But a moment was all he needed. When I looked again, he'd vanished, leaving me searching wildly for any trace of him.
"You've been following me," a soft but deep voice whispered, filling my ears as if carried by the wind itself. A pause. It was closer now; right behind me. "Who are you, brat, and what do you want from me?"
I whirled around and haphazardly stepped inward, my arm swinging in a facsimile of a punch. My fist hit nothing, earning me a swift, unseen, and above all, painful blow to my diaphragm instead. It forced my eyes so wide open that I thought they'd pop out of my head. All the air swiftly exited my body, and along with it, all the fight left in me.
I heaved, kneeling. My stomach desperately clenched in an attempt to throw up anything it could but I knew it would find nothing. The toll of everything he'd thrown at me hit me all at once and I just barely managed to look up from my position on the floor.
I didn't sense it before. If I did, I would have avoided all of this. Following him, trying to fight back, all of it. The barest hints of… something wafting off the man in waves; restrained but there. Slowly, it grew to be cloying and the cries of thousands rang in my ears. Acrid smoke clogged my mouth and nose, bringing tears to my eyes as I fought every inch to simply breathe.
It was gone as swiftly as it came, the world slowly easing back into focus.
I looked up at the man, a newfound caution guiding my every move. Brown robes covered his body from head to toe, he pulled the hood up to reveal his face. A few thick bangs of inky hair hung over his eyes, the rest of it pulled back in a ponytail. A ratty blindfold covered his eyes, frayed with the markings of time. Grey-patched stubble covered the rest of his face, his mouth turned down as he scowled at me.
"You're pretty slow on the uptake so I'll ask again," he shifted and squatted down, grabbing me by the hair and lifting my head so that it was level with his own. "Who are you and why the hell have you been following me around all day?"
I smirked, my mind working overtime to formulate a plan to escape. "Hmm… should I tell you? Let's both be honest, you don't care all that much. You came up here to beat on me 'cause you're stronger. No more no less."
All the while, I searched for the reassuring well of energy that had accompanied me for the last decade. I held back on this in the fight, unwilling to draw unnecessary attention to myself from the people down below. I cursed at my luck, pulling my hands out from beneath myself.
At this point, I had to go for broke.
"See?" I laughed at the silence, harsh and mocking. My heart dropped a little when his frown deepened but I didn't let any fear show on my face. I couldn't. "You don't care about me and I don't care about you."
Slowly, I raised my hand, shivering with the power coursing through my body but careful enough to hopefully not alert him. I let it explode outward in an instant. "Now, hold still… and take this!"
My vision was momentarily filled with yellow light before I squeezed my stinging eyes shut, feeling the blistering hot energy ebb. Inky blotches swam across my vision, as I stormed back to the ledge overlooking the market and vaulted over it without giving a moment to spare.
Icy blades of wind rushed through my threadbare clothing, the chill seeping in through the numerous holes in them. I laughed, relief bubbling through my voice, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
Even the chilling wind didn't seem so cold anymore. I braced myself, ready to take off across the skies and to safety. Then, a searing sensation flashed across my body, followed by thousands of pinpricks. I grew sluggish and tired, my descent stopped with a sudden jerk and my eyes tingled.
I burned the last dregs of my energy to look up, following my taut tail, travelling up the arm holding it, and stared right at the blindfolded Saiyan.
"Id…ot…kids…f…cki…hel…" the words reach me in pieces. "...wear..g…blindfol…"
Even as I went under and he drew me in by the tail like a curtain, I struggled and thrashed, desperation fuelling my last wind.
What felt like hours later, I was pulled out of a dream filled with a delicious assortment of food with no end in sight.
The softness beneath me felt weird, all my muscles halfway tensed out of sheer discomfort. As tempted as I was to lie down and go back to sleep, I knew I couldn't. So I sat up, eyes running over the stony walls and moss-covered roof of the room. I took stock of my new clothes, scowling at the brown robes I now wore.
To my left was a cup of water, filled to the brim with what seemed to be clean water. My heart did a double-take at the sight and I swallowed, wincing at the dryness of my mouth and throat.
How long had it been since I'd drunk anything remotely clean? As a Saiyan, there was a lot of shit I could get away with that would have killed me when I was on Earth.
I frowned, my eyes boring into the cup. For all I knew, it could be poisoned.
"I haven't poisoned it, you know," an amused wizened voice drifted in from the room's exit.
Old wouldn't be enough to do the man justice. He looked as if he was alive long before the birth of the universe and that he would live long after it. His wrinkles were so pronounced, his skin so heavy-looking that I wouldn't be surprised if he keeled over then and there. His hair was a shocking white and his ivory robe hung off his small frame. Like the man I'd fought, he wore a blindfold over his eyes.
"Who are you people," I slowly stood up. "And what do you want from me?"
A snort sounded from behind the old man, a familiarly deep voice snarking, "Would you look at that, Abbot? The irony."
Stubbles walked into the room and stood beside the elderly man.
"You," I growled, readying myself to leap at him.
It didn't matter that I was at a disadvantage. I was so angry that I'd been caught that I wanted little more than to punch him until the anger left me.
He turned to face me, his robe fluttering as if pushed up by the wind. A pale grey glow lit up around him, growing thicker and brighter the longer he stared.
I couldn't move. My anger simply evaporated. Smoke forced its way through my mouth, and tears blurred my eyes, leaving me gasping for air. Screams reverberated in my ears, bouncing about my skull. A bone-chilling cold slowly seeped up my spine. First, my legs grew numb, then I could feel nothing at all. The screams grew louder, reaching a feverish pitch, and my vision began to darken.
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, gratefully taking in deep lungfuls as I looked up at the furious old man.
"Escar," the man's voice was quiet but danger oozed through it. "Leave. Now. We do not turn our power onto the defenceless. Let alone a defenceless child. Go and practise your forms and clean the hall of war."
Stubbles—no, Escar huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "Defenceless? You should've seen him earlier. Tried to blind me. Still, not my problem if you wanna keep the boy around. He certainly needs help after that showing."
Against my better nature, I scowled at him. Escar threw a lazy smirk over his shoulder and left the room, leaving me alone with the old man.
He bent down without complaint and helped me up, moving over and patting the empty spot on the bed to his left. After eyeing the door, I sighed and sat down beside him, making sure I could see enough of him out of my peripheral vision.
"What's your name, young man?"
I stared at him, annoyed that he wore a blindfold. There was nothing for me to gauge his intentions from barring the soft smile on his face.
"...It's Korn."
"And what brings you to our monastery, young Korn?"
Now I was confused. I shifted slightly so that I was facing him.
"The heck are you talking about? I didn't come here by choice. Escar grabbed my tail and brought me here."
He smiled at me, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "Ah, but you see, you still came here. And if I heard this correctly, you chose to go after Escar. Besides, the method by which you arrived does not matter as much as the fact that you are here."
I shook my head bemused at all this. "About that, old man, where am I?"
"I'm glad you asked, young Korn," he stood up, unfurling a white tail from his waist. Bringing his hands together, he bowed. "I am Abbot. I help manage the affairs of our humble monastery."
"Is that your name or your title?"
He simply smiled at me and started to walk away, stopping to beckon me over.
"Come, allow me to show you around. It is almost time for supper. Then, we will discuss your… circumstances and what we can do moving forward."
'We?' I wondered as I walked down the meagre stone hallway.
The torches affixed on the walls stretched as far as I could see. A bell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then it stopped.
"It seems we are just on time. Off to the hall of nourishment, then," Abbot declared, increasing his gait even further.
At that point, I had to jog to keep up, my new brown robes itching annoyingly against my skin. "Still a lot better than my rags…"
"Hm? Did you say something?" Abbot asked, not turning around.
"No… no I didn't." I followed him out of the hallway and into a courtyard.
The place looked barren, for lack of a better term. It was surrounded by paths that led to different entrances into the building behind me. At the centre, three shirtless children meticulously went through the different forms for some sort of martial art style. Around them stalked an intimidating man. His robe was brown like mine, and a similarly coloured tail wrapped around his waist.
I quickly realised that everyone I'd seen thus far had tails. "What is this? Some sort of cult?"
"Ha!" Abbot barked out a short laugh, scaring the crap out of me. I hadn't realised his hearing was so keen.
"A keen imagination! You remind me of young Callio," he gestured towards the child on the furthermost right of the row, his bare body riddled with frightening scars. "Always coming up with novel ideas."
I took a moment longer to wonder how he got them, eventually deciding that I didn't care.
"My point still stands, old man," I frowned. "Why have you gathered a bunch of tailed Saiyans?"
He looked at me and his eyebrows shot upward, threatening to disappear into his hairline. "It isn't obvious?"
At my silence, he simply sighed.
"Young Korn, tell me, how much do you know of us Saiyans?"
I dug my heels into the dirt, kicking up a small dust cloud. "I know that we like to eat and fight. We turn into raging monkeys when we look at the full moon. We've also got a king… what's he called again? Sardine – no, that just sounds wrong. Saldana…? Salada? Hmm… still sounds wrong."
"It's Sadala," Abbot helpfully supplied.
"Right. Anyway, King Sadala stopped some kind of civil war a good while back and he's also the strongest Saiyan ever so we all follow him. Whether you're a Saiyan or not, that's just the planet's culture. Might makes right and all that."
"Is that all?"
I made a show of counting my fingers, more bored than anything else. "Yeah, that's all."
"Good," he began, surprising me. "You know more than most children who arrive here. Saves me time. Young Korn, not all Saiyans have tails."
I stared at him, completely unimpressed. "Well, duh. People choose to get it removed, right? Or maybe they get it torn off in battle."
"Not too long ago some would kill you for merely suggesting the first," Abbot shook his head wryly. "The second does happen from time to time. However, no, most Saiyans don't have tails in the first place. Evolution—or at least that is how it is posited by most on Sadala."
I blinked, completely blindsided. This was something I hadn't seen at all in my past life. Neither in the manga nor anything else. "...So what? I'm a neanderthal, then?"
"What is a… neanderthal?"
"Nevermind," I cut in, steering the conversation away from my slip of the tongue. "Tell me more about this whole evolution deal."
He stared at me for a moment and nodded. "As such, we tailed Saiyans are often seen as dangerous to society and are ostracised quite often. People are… shall I say unwilling to associate with us. Though I must admit that it is nothing compared to a decade ago. Things were so bad that King Sadala himself had to step in. I saw it fit to open up a haven where I can teach those like you and me to control the Oozaru state."
Suddenly, the scornful remarks and apprehensive stares I got made so much more sense. I'd initially chalked it down to my dishevelled appearance or the fact that I stole for a living and left it at that.
"And the blindfolds?"
"A metaphorical white flag, if you will. To show that we are not a threat."
I stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Say that I join your monastery—"
"—then I shall be pleased—"
"—If I do, will I be forced to wear one?"
"You will not," Abbot reassured me, gesturing to the blindfoldless children and the master out in the centre of the field. "However, that will change on the night of a full moon. In this case, wearing a blindfold is something that we must all do whether we have control of our mental faculties or not. I would rather the monastery not be reduced to rubble, thank you very much and have done a good enough job at that for close to a decade."
I hummed, looking out at the children training in the courtyard. Their bodies glistened with sweat, small but compact muscles visibly rippling with their every movement. Despite all this, they managed to move with a sort of serenity that felt foreign to combat. Whether it was the lumbering one on the left, the small one in the middle, or the scarred one on the furthermost right. Their movements were all in sync, power visibly leaking from them in bursts of multicoloured light when they struck out.
Enthralled, I lost myself in awe as they went through from one form to the next.
Abbot broke me out of my trance with a simple nudge to my shoulder. "Come, young Korn. Dinner grows cold. Those three shall follow suit. If you're so eager to meet them, I will introduce you."
"No… that's fine…" I muttered absentmindedly as I seared every one of their movements into my mind.
The very same movements played themselves over in my mind dozens of times on my way to dinner. I only noticed I was in the hall of nourishment when a bowl of hot stew was placed on my table, its aroma making me aware of the gaping hole in my stomach.
"Eat up, young Korn," Abbot pushed the bowl towards me. "Better you make your decision on a full stomach than an empty one, no?"
My stomach growled, drawing an embarrassed flush from me and a chuckle from Abbot. "Well… my stomach certainly agrees."
As good as the stew was, I couldn't help but think about my new life. Nothing was the same. Not the planet, not the Saiyans, nothing. If something this small was so different, then what the hell was everything else going to be like?
The question plagued me until I climbed into my bed and sleep dragged me into the abyss.
There's no advanced chapters up for this on Patreon so please don't go and pledge anything (unless you want to). You'll know when I've got anything up there through these author notes. I dunno when the next one will be up but I hope you enjoyed! ^^
—Ash
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 1: Tough Luck
- - -
Red sands, a weird piss-yellow sky, and the sweltering noontide sun. That was what the average Joe would note about Planet Sadala. Or at least that's what I found out after waking up in a ditch and scaring the life out of the hunch-backed old man digging it.
Blinking dark spots out my eyes, I ran them along the familiar open-door buildings running as far as I could see. Nobody feared being robbed. Why would they when you could sense the energy of everyone around?
And if you were good at masking it? Then fair fucks, was the reply by most.
But right now, I was more worried about where I'd find dinner. From atop my perch on one of the many thick-walled buildings, I scouted out today's victim.
He made his way through the market, through the narrow pathway marked by thousands of footsteps that had trod the path before him. I followed from high above, climbing using long-abandoned scaffolding on my way. I soon reached the end of the line, forced to hastily climb down before jumping and splaying myself across the roof of a low building.
Did anyone hear me? I strained my ears over my furiously beating heart to listen. A minute later, I poked my head over the ledge just in time to spot him trudging out of the pathway and into the Bazaar.
He didn't look like a particularly intimidating guy.
That being said, I couldn't see enough of him to tell. Only that he wore a long, flowing brown robe – its low hood pulled over his head. Around his waist hung a pouch. No doubt full of space credits that I could use to buy myself some food and maybe a bed.
Lord knows I'm fed up with the aches in the morning thanks to sleeping on the cold stone floor.
I was just about to make my move when I saw a twitch from a furry-looking brown band around his waist.
I stopped almost as suddenly as I had started, mouth partly open. It wasn't very often that I spotted a tailed Saiyan – not including myself, that is. My eyes fell to the dark brown tail trailing the ground behind me, and an instant later, I squashed the beginnings of what I realised was guilt.
There was no place for it when it came to my survival. Not even a shared experience between tailed Saiyans. For me, guilt was a luxury until I could afford some kind of basic standard of living. At least something like it used to be on Earth, anyway.
The sun arced upward, its heat blistering. The low, stone roofs of Sadalan buildings were pretty good at absorbing its heat but left my feet too toasty than comfortable. The rags I wore clung to my bony frame and my usually wild lion mane of hair drooped with sweat, some of it stuck against my forehead.
I hadn't budged an inch, crouched against the ledge, my eyes pinned on the dilapidated building the man had entered. My feet were blistered and sore, and my stomach groaned feebly, sending aches coursing through my limbs. I remained still. Waiting, watching, taking note of every escape route, every security guard patrol, where all the thugs were hanging around, and the appearance of anyone even distinctly noticeable.
Even if Sadala wasn't as vicious as Planet Vegeta, Saiyans will always be Saiyans. Always looking for a reason to fight. For the thugs, it was 'cause you looked at 'em funny. For the guards, you got too close and looked too poor. The everyday citizen's pretty docile for the most part, but give them a valid enough reason and they would beat you within an inch of your life.
After hours of biding my time, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, a blur of movement filled my vision and a flash of pain erupted across my face.
I teetered backwards, limbs screaming after hours of disuse. My instincts kicked into gear and I lurched forward, tail swishing. I faked a jab, my fist getting caught up in the flowing brown robe that the man wore. I jerked it back a little too harshly and stumbled. He rushed forwards, slamming a brutal set of punches to my chest, arms, and stomach I curled up under.
Ferocious winds brought tears to my eyes, his fists blurred as they rushed towards me. My mind at wit's end, I panicked and lashed my tail. It knocked aside a blow meant for my head and deflected it to my shoulder.
I winced, making a sound caught between a grunt and gasp, and shoulder-checked him, energising my muscles with as much ki as I could afford to. It sent him skidding to the other side of the roof and granted me a moment of rest.
I stepped back and my half-exposed back met the chill of the stony ledge. Hissing, I jerked, taking my eyes off the man for a moment. But a moment was all he needed. When I looked again, he'd vanished, leaving me searching wildly for any trace of him.
"You've been following me," a soft but deep voice whispered, filling my ears as if carried by the wind itself. A pause. It was closer now; right behind me. "Who are you, brat, and what do you want from me?"
I whirled around and haphazardly stepped inward, my arm swinging in a facsimile of a punch. My fist hit nothing, earning me a swift, unseen, and above all, painful blow to my diaphragm instead. It forced my eyes so wide open that I thought they'd pop out of my head. All the air swiftly exited my body, and along with it, all the fight left in me.
I heaved, kneeling. My stomach desperately clenched in an attempt to throw up anything it could but I knew it would find nothing. The toll of everything he'd thrown at me hit me all at once and I just barely managed to look up from my position on the floor.
I didn't sense it before. If I did, I would have avoided all of this. Following him, trying to fight back, all of it. The barest hints of… something wafting off the man in waves; restrained but there. Slowly, it grew to be cloying and the cries of thousands rang in my ears. Acrid smoke clogged my mouth and nose, bringing tears to my eyes as I fought every inch to simply breathe.
It was gone as swiftly as it came, the world slowly easing back into focus.
I looked up at the man, a newfound caution guiding my every move. Brown robes covered his body from head to toe, he pulled the hood up to reveal his face. A few thick bangs of inky hair hung over his eyes, the rest of it pulled back in a ponytail. A ratty blindfold covered his eyes, frayed with the markings of time. Grey-patched stubble covered the rest of his face, his mouth turned down as he scowled at me.
"You're pretty slow on the uptake so I'll ask again," he shifted and squatted down, grabbing me by the hair and lifting my head so that it was level with his own. "Who are you and why the hell have you been following me around all day?"
I smirked, my mind working overtime to formulate a plan to escape. "Hmm… should I tell you? Let's both be honest, you don't care all that much. You came up here to beat on me 'cause you're stronger. No more no less."
All the while, I searched for the reassuring well of energy that had accompanied me for the last decade. I held back on this in the fight, unwilling to draw unnecessary attention to myself from the people down below. I cursed at my luck, pulling my hands out from beneath myself.
At this point, I had to go for broke.
"See?" I laughed at the silence, harsh and mocking. My heart dropped a little when his frown deepened but I didn't let any fear show on my face. I couldn't. "You don't care about me and I don't care about you."
Slowly, I raised my hand, shivering with the power coursing through my body but careful enough to hopefully not alert him. I let it explode outward in an instant. "Now, hold still… and take this!"
My vision was momentarily filled with yellow light before I squeezed my stinging eyes shut, feeling the blistering hot energy ebb. Inky blotches swam across my vision, as I stormed back to the ledge overlooking the market and vaulted over it without giving a moment to spare.
Icy blades of wind rushed through my threadbare clothing, the chill seeping in through the numerous holes in them. I laughed, relief bubbling through my voice, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
Even the chilling wind didn't seem so cold anymore. I braced myself, ready to take off across the skies and to safety. Then, a searing sensation flashed across my body, followed by thousands of pinpricks. I grew sluggish and tired, my descent stopped with a sudden jerk and my eyes tingled.
I burned the last dregs of my energy to look up, following my taut tail, travelling up the arm holding it, and stared right at the blindfolded Saiyan.
"Id…ot…kids…f…cki…hel…" the words reach me in pieces. "...wear..g…blindfol…"
Even as I went under and he drew me in by the tail like a curtain, I struggled and thrashed, desperation fuelling my last wind.
(Break)
What felt like hours later, I was pulled out of a dream filled with a delicious assortment of food with no end in sight.
The softness beneath me felt weird, all my muscles halfway tensed out of sheer discomfort. As tempted as I was to lie down and go back to sleep, I knew I couldn't. So I sat up, eyes running over the stony walls and moss-covered roof of the room. I took stock of my new clothes, scowling at the brown robes I now wore.
To my left was a cup of water, filled to the brim with what seemed to be clean water. My heart did a double-take at the sight and I swallowed, wincing at the dryness of my mouth and throat.
How long had it been since I'd drunk anything remotely clean? As a Saiyan, there was a lot of shit I could get away with that would have killed me when I was on Earth.
I frowned, my eyes boring into the cup. For all I knew, it could be poisoned.
"I haven't poisoned it, you know," an amused wizened voice drifted in from the room's exit.
Old wouldn't be enough to do the man justice. He looked as if he was alive long before the birth of the universe and that he would live long after it. His wrinkles were so pronounced, his skin so heavy-looking that I wouldn't be surprised if he keeled over then and there. His hair was a shocking white and his ivory robe hung off his small frame. Like the man I'd fought, he wore a blindfold over his eyes.
"Who are you people," I slowly stood up. "And what do you want from me?"
A snort sounded from behind the old man, a familiarly deep voice snarking, "Would you look at that, Abbot? The irony."
Stubbles walked into the room and stood beside the elderly man.
"You," I growled, readying myself to leap at him.
It didn't matter that I was at a disadvantage. I was so angry that I'd been caught that I wanted little more than to punch him until the anger left me.
He turned to face me, his robe fluttering as if pushed up by the wind. A pale grey glow lit up around him, growing thicker and brighter the longer he stared.
I couldn't move. My anger simply evaporated. Smoke forced its way through my mouth, and tears blurred my eyes, leaving me gasping for air. Screams reverberated in my ears, bouncing about my skull. A bone-chilling cold slowly seeped up my spine. First, my legs grew numb, then I could feel nothing at all. The screams grew louder, reaching a feverish pitch, and my vision began to darken.
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, gratefully taking in deep lungfuls as I looked up at the furious old man.
"Escar," the man's voice was quiet but danger oozed through it. "Leave. Now. We do not turn our power onto the defenceless. Let alone a defenceless child. Go and practise your forms and clean the hall of war."
Stubbles—no, Escar huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "Defenceless? You should've seen him earlier. Tried to blind me. Still, not my problem if you wanna keep the boy around. He certainly needs help after that showing."
Against my better nature, I scowled at him. Escar threw a lazy smirk over his shoulder and left the room, leaving me alone with the old man.
He bent down without complaint and helped me up, moving over and patting the empty spot on the bed to his left. After eyeing the door, I sighed and sat down beside him, making sure I could see enough of him out of my peripheral vision.
"What's your name, young man?"
I stared at him, annoyed that he wore a blindfold. There was nothing for me to gauge his intentions from barring the soft smile on his face.
"...It's Korn."
"And what brings you to our monastery, young Korn?"
Now I was confused. I shifted slightly so that I was facing him.
"The heck are you talking about? I didn't come here by choice. Escar grabbed my tail and brought me here."
He smiled at me, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "Ah, but you see, you still came here. And if I heard this correctly, you chose to go after Escar. Besides, the method by which you arrived does not matter as much as the fact that you are here."
I shook my head bemused at all this. "About that, old man, where am I?"
"I'm glad you asked, young Korn," he stood up, unfurling a white tail from his waist. Bringing his hands together, he bowed. "I am Abbot. I help manage the affairs of our humble monastery."
"Is that your name or your title?"
He simply smiled at me and started to walk away, stopping to beckon me over.
"Come, allow me to show you around. It is almost time for supper. Then, we will discuss your… circumstances and what we can do moving forward."
'We?' I wondered as I walked down the meagre stone hallway.
The torches affixed on the walls stretched as far as I could see. A bell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then it stopped.
"It seems we are just on time. Off to the hall of nourishment, then," Abbot declared, increasing his gait even further.
At that point, I had to jog to keep up, my new brown robes itching annoyingly against my skin. "Still a lot better than my rags…"
"Hm? Did you say something?" Abbot asked, not turning around.
"No… no I didn't." I followed him out of the hallway and into a courtyard.
The place looked barren, for lack of a better term. It was surrounded by paths that led to different entrances into the building behind me. At the centre, three shirtless children meticulously went through the different forms for some sort of martial art style. Around them stalked an intimidating man. His robe was brown like mine, and a similarly coloured tail wrapped around his waist.
I quickly realised that everyone I'd seen thus far had tails. "What is this? Some sort of cult?"
"Ha!" Abbot barked out a short laugh, scaring the crap out of me. I hadn't realised his hearing was so keen.
"A keen imagination! You remind me of young Callio," he gestured towards the child on the furthermost right of the row, his bare body riddled with frightening scars. "Always coming up with novel ideas."
I took a moment longer to wonder how he got them, eventually deciding that I didn't care.
"My point still stands, old man," I frowned. "Why have you gathered a bunch of tailed Saiyans?"
He looked at me and his eyebrows shot upward, threatening to disappear into his hairline. "It isn't obvious?"
At my silence, he simply sighed.
"Young Korn, tell me, how much do you know of us Saiyans?"
I dug my heels into the dirt, kicking up a small dust cloud. "I know that we like to eat and fight. We turn into raging monkeys when we look at the full moon. We've also got a king… what's he called again? Sardine – no, that just sounds wrong. Saldana…? Salada? Hmm… still sounds wrong."
"It's Sadala," Abbot helpfully supplied.
"Right. Anyway, King Sadala stopped some kind of civil war a good while back and he's also the strongest Saiyan ever so we all follow him. Whether you're a Saiyan or not, that's just the planet's culture. Might makes right and all that."
"Is that all?"
I made a show of counting my fingers, more bored than anything else. "Yeah, that's all."
"Good," he began, surprising me. "You know more than most children who arrive here. Saves me time. Young Korn, not all Saiyans have tails."
I stared at him, completely unimpressed. "Well, duh. People choose to get it removed, right? Or maybe they get it torn off in battle."
"Not too long ago some would kill you for merely suggesting the first," Abbot shook his head wryly. "The second does happen from time to time. However, no, most Saiyans don't have tails in the first place. Evolution—or at least that is how it is posited by most on Sadala."
I blinked, completely blindsided. This was something I hadn't seen at all in my past life. Neither in the manga nor anything else. "...So what? I'm a neanderthal, then?"
"What is a… neanderthal?"
"Nevermind," I cut in, steering the conversation away from my slip of the tongue. "Tell me more about this whole evolution deal."
He stared at me for a moment and nodded. "As such, we tailed Saiyans are often seen as dangerous to society and are ostracised quite often. People are… shall I say unwilling to associate with us. Though I must admit that it is nothing compared to a decade ago. Things were so bad that King Sadala himself had to step in. I saw it fit to open up a haven where I can teach those like you and me to control the Oozaru state."
Suddenly, the scornful remarks and apprehensive stares I got made so much more sense. I'd initially chalked it down to my dishevelled appearance or the fact that I stole for a living and left it at that.
"And the blindfolds?"
"A metaphorical white flag, if you will. To show that we are not a threat."
I stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Say that I join your monastery—"
"—then I shall be pleased—"
"—If I do, will I be forced to wear one?"
"You will not," Abbot reassured me, gesturing to the blindfoldless children and the master out in the centre of the field. "However, that will change on the night of a full moon. In this case, wearing a blindfold is something that we must all do whether we have control of our mental faculties or not. I would rather the monastery not be reduced to rubble, thank you very much and have done a good enough job at that for close to a decade."
I hummed, looking out at the children training in the courtyard. Their bodies glistened with sweat, small but compact muscles visibly rippling with their every movement. Despite all this, they managed to move with a sort of serenity that felt foreign to combat. Whether it was the lumbering one on the left, the small one in the middle, or the scarred one on the furthermost right. Their movements were all in sync, power visibly leaking from them in bursts of multicoloured light when they struck out.
Enthralled, I lost myself in awe as they went through from one form to the next.
Abbot broke me out of my trance with a simple nudge to my shoulder. "Come, young Korn. Dinner grows cold. Those three shall follow suit. If you're so eager to meet them, I will introduce you."
"No… that's fine…" I muttered absentmindedly as I seared every one of their movements into my mind.
The very same movements played themselves over in my mind dozens of times on my way to dinner. I only noticed I was in the hall of nourishment when a bowl of hot stew was placed on my table, its aroma making me aware of the gaping hole in my stomach.
"Eat up, young Korn," Abbot pushed the bowl towards me. "Better you make your decision on a full stomach than an empty one, no?"
My stomach growled, drawing an embarrassed flush from me and a chuckle from Abbot. "Well… my stomach certainly agrees."
As good as the stew was, I couldn't help but think about my new life. Nothing was the same. Not the planet, not the Saiyans, nothing. If something this small was so different, then what the hell was everything else going to be like?
The question plagued me until I climbed into my bed and sleep dragged me into the abyss.
There's no advanced chapters up for this on Patreon so please don't go and pledge anything (unless you want to). You'll know when I've got anything up there through these author notes. I dunno when the next one will be up but I hope you enjoyed! ^^
—Ash
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Xcell
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The characters seem well written and their interactions seem pretty good. But can't help but think what's the point 
of having a main character that was transformed into a Saiyan before Canon introduce the super Saiyans 1,2,3 and The unofficial super Saiyan 4 and the following super Saiyan God transformations in dragon Ball super and the fanon ideas for a super Saiyan 5 and 6 existed????
As from what I gathered it seems like the main character has no knowledge of these transformations and personally the whole emphasis of his tail in this story feels like a setup for later down line for the unofficial super Saiyan 4. As I'm guessing the whole group's emphasis that picked him up is a group dedicated to controlling they're Saiyan urges and instincts and that extends to the oozaru I'm guessing anyway.
As it just feels unlikely without that dragon Ball knowledge that he's just accidentally going to stumble upon super Saiyan and then ss4 when thousands of Saiyan before him have not. And why even make him a transformed fan that has some knowledge of the series when he doesn't even really have the knowledge you'd want to have in this particular scenario or really need???
of having a main character that was transformed into a Saiyan before Canon introduce the super Saiyans 1,2,3 and The unofficial super Saiyan 4 and the following super Saiyan God transformations in dragon Ball super and the fanon ideas for a super Saiyan 5 and 6 existed????As from what I gathered it seems like the main character has no knowledge of these transformations and personally the whole emphasis of his tail in this story feels like a setup for later down line for the unofficial super Saiyan 4. As I'm guessing the whole group's emphasis that picked him up is a group dedicated to controlling they're Saiyan urges and instincts and that extends to the oozaru I'm guessing anyway.
As it just feels unlikely without that dragon Ball knowledge that he's just accidentally going to stumble upon super Saiyan and then ss4 when thousands of Saiyan before him have not. And why even make him a transformed fan that has some knowledge of the series when he doesn't even really have the knowledge you'd want to have in this particular scenario or really need???
Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
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He's got the knowledge of everything up until Super Saiyan 4. He's watched Dragon Ball Z, the movies, and GT. Meaning he knows about it all. What he knows will be revealed as we go on. The only thing he hasn't seen is 'Dragon Ball Z: Battle of the Gods' and Dragon Ball Super.The characters seem well written and their interactions seem pretty good. But can't help but think what's the point
As from what I gathered it seems like the main character has no knowledge of these transformations and personally the whole emphasis of his tail in this story feels like a setup for later down line for the unofficial super Saiyan 4. As I'm guessing the whole group's emphasis that picked him up is a group dedicated to controlling they're Saiyan urges and instincts and that extends to the oozaru I'm guessing anyway.
As it just feels unlikely without that dragon Ball knowledge that he's just accidentally going to stumble upon super Saiyan and then ss4 when thousands of Saiyan before him have not. And why even make him a transformed fan that has some knowledge of the series when he doesn't even really have the knowledge you'd want to have in this particular scenario or really need???
Xcell
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Well that's confusing because of this part in the intro (Dunno why he though that was a compliment when I wound up dying before I ever got to see the first Dragon Ball movie since 1996. I learnt that day that luck can be good, but it can also be quite shite, and one day, it'll run out, leaving you high and dry) as it kind suggest he mad the transition in 1996 also not sure which movie he's referring to. As DBZ didn't end until around 2003 I think it was and GT didn't end until like 2006. So if he has the full knowledge of both of these transferred some time between 2006 and 2015. My best guess is he's referring to either the father of bardock movie or one of broly movies.
Eternal Yujin
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Everything after 'The Path to Power' is mostly just 20-40 minute OVAs, if I remember correctly. Hence the wording of the intro. I think I'll rework the synopsis a little to better reflect his foreknowledge.
DraconianGreed
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Uh…. did the Mc try using a blinding attack on a blind man?
MarcusDeGabriel
Well worn.
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We have a saiyan si with his tail and knowledge of SSJ4, I want that so bad! Don't get me wrong, I love the god forms as well, I just think that 4 is kinda slept on and I would love to see it more.
Xcell
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I kind of like the ideas some of the fandom transformations like combining ss4 with the God form. As some of the deviantART is just kind of awesome for it https://www.google.com/search?q=sup...iw=424&bih=1031&dpr=2.55#imgrc=g0JZp2FUDHK2wM
As I personally like to red overlay more than the blue for the concept. But I think the blue makes more sense for the color scheme of it.
Which I'm not even really going to get into the whole concept art for ss5 and ss6 which those things could exist too hypothetically. as the idea behind them kind of makes sense.
2. Interlude— Duality
Eternal Yujin
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Disclaimer: I'm but a humble author. This here is something made by a fan, for other fans.
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 2: Duality
- - -
For Escar, life on Sadala consisted mainly of two things. Getting shitfaced and finding someone to fight. Usually, the two overlapped. Sometimes he'd fight someone while completely pissed. Other times, he'd have a fight, head over to the bar, and then share a drink with his opponent before heading back to the monastery for dinner.
It was a simple life, but one he enjoyed thoroughly. What Saiyan wouldn't? Consuming copious amounts of food and alcohol on top of fighting strong adversaries sounded like absolute heaven to him. Throw in some wild sex every once in a while – preferably with a chick he'd just fought – and that would leave him a delighted man.
"E-Escar," Sprout grunted, sporting several welts, a black eye and a split lip as he hobbled beside him. "Aren't you going to head in?"
Blinking, Escar pushed open the bar's entrance, the cacophony within hitting him all at once. He welcomed it, nodding respectfully at a couple of acquaintances and shooting teasing smirks at women he'd fought and fucked, slowly walking over to the counter, doing his best to not aggravate his bruised and battered body.
Though he would never show just how hurt he was to the moron hobbling beside him. He winced as he sat down, the scorched and blistered skin beneath his robe flaring up. Escar kept his face completely calm, breaking it only to smirk at Sprout when he inevitably let out a pained hiss as he eased himself onto the stool.
"What's wrong, Sprout?" his smirk grew wider. "Don't tell me you want to go home? We haven't even had a single drink yet."
The shorter man growled, a vein pulsing in his forehead. He forced his frown into a smile, eyes narrowing. "H-Heh. Nah, I'm just enjoying the atmosphere. Nice place you picked, eh?"
"It was either here or the brothel-cum-bar on the east side of the capital. I don't know about you but I'd rather not. Might just drop out of the sky on the way there."
"That's a shame." Sprout made a show of slumping in disappointment. "It's been a while since I've banged Quila. I do miss her…"
Escar snorted and, with gargantuan effort, raised a hand to signal to the bartender. "Dakon! How are you today? Any good tips yet?" he raised his pouch, shaking it slightly. "I've got you covered, man."
He could immediately spot the greed light up in the bartender's eyes, the man in question speeding over before he could return the pouch to his waist.
"Well if it ain't Escar!" he boomed, round belly jiggling. "And by the looks of it, you've been at it again," he quickly pulled down two tumblers from the rack behind him, filling them up with the only alcoholic beverage on Sadala: Sunset. "Who won between the two of ya?"
"I did," Escar said with no small amount of pride. "But it was a close one. This bastard here roughed me up pretty good."
Sprout glared at him, rubbing the spot on his arm that he had just thumped. "I'll rough you up even better next time. Gonna wipe that smug grin off your face too."
"You said the same last time, Sprout."
"And?" he raised his voice, smacking the table repeatedly for emphasis. "I got even closer to winning tonight. Imagine what'll happen next time."
He frowned. The match was closer than he'd like to admit, but Escar was still stronger than him. "I—"
Dakon quickly cut in, noticing tension in the air. "Have you two fellas seen the adverts for the annual Sadala tourney?"
"Nah. Can't say I have," Sprout replied. "Why?"
Escar snorted again. It was just like the moron to not pay attention to the biggest event on the planet.
"If ya've looked at them, you'll notice they've added a new division for this year's."
"Oh?" Escar leaned forward. "The snot-nosed brat one?"
"Yeah," Dakon basked in the attention for a moment. "There's a junior division now. See, I dunno why they'd want somethin' like that. It's boring as shit watching the little tykes scrap in the streets. What makes ya think we'd wanna watch them at the Anvil?!"
"Heh, I'm not sure 'bout that one, Dakon," Escar let a small but vicious smile play out across his face. "The brats back at the monastery are persistent fuckers. They ain't half bad too."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Forget Callio, Bage, and Tato for a minute. There's this new kid: Korn," Escar stopped to laugh. "Idiot tried to rob me on my way out of here a while back. Even after drinking a sunset, he was easy to spot. He followed me around the entire day. Didn't care about stopping to get food or taking a leak either."
Sprout let out a snort. "Fucking whelps."
Escar quickly thumped his shoulder again, amused at the pained yelp from the man. "Anyway, the brat's been at the monastery for what? A month or two? Every day at the asscrack of dawn, the bastard comes to my healing tank and demands to fight me."
"Really?" Dakon's voice teetered on the edge of disbelief. "Nah, come off it. No kid can be that stupid."
"HA!" Escar barked out a laugh and took a generous sip from his tumbler. "I swear, you two should see him. A goddamned glutton for punishment, that one. I plant him into the dirt and he gets up again, muttering some shit about a "zenkai."
"You sure you haven't smacked him in the head one too many times, Escar?" Sprout asked, oddly concerned.
"It's good for him," he brushed it off, knocking back the rest of his tumbler. "Kid's gotten stronger by a fuckton. I beat him down, he tries to fight back, I knock his lights out and throw him into a healing tank. Rinse and repeat and you've got the formula for success right there. Mark my words, by the time he hits his first growth spurt, I'll finally have a half-decent training partner besides that old bag of bones."
"Abbot?"
"Who else," Escar scowled, taking out a handful of space credits and slamming them against the counter. "But that's enough chin-wagging. Another one!"
Dakon was happy to oblige, refilling his glass and topping up Sprout's.
Sprout laughed, setting down his tumbler. "You're only mad because you've been whooped by that "old bag of bones" more times than you can count."
"If you've got time to blabber then you ain't drinking enough," he grunted, picking up his tumbler and downing it one go, his throat burning. The liquid settled in his gut, spreading warmth all around his body. "Dakon, you know what to do. Another!"
"Aye, aye," the bartender filled up his tumbler once more before drifting off to greet the next customer.
Now that he had time to process exactly how beat up he was, Escar realised that getting back to the monastery in time for dinner would be a hassle.
"Ah, well," he shrugged and gulped down a mouthful of his drink. "Not much I can do now."
Escar opened his eyes. The healing tank hummed, rattling slightly as the water within churned and bubbled, the lower half of his torso tingling with warmth. The periodic beeps and clicks of the system outside monitoring his vitals showed no abnormalities and he counted down the seconds until Korn would stomp his way across the room towards his tank.
Even from within the liquid-filled tank, he could hear the hiss of the doors opening, followed by several colourful curses so loud that he couldn't help but laugh at the irate child standing in front of him. "How's losing treating ya, brat?"
Korn scowled at him and released an explosive breath. His wild mane of hair reached the back of his neck, other parts curling around and resting on his collar bones whilst the rest of it stood up in defiance of gravity.
"Out," he said simply, his eyes steely. "Today's gonna be different, ya raging asshole."
"Heh. You said that yesterday too," he chuckled. "But you know the drill. Drain this thing of the juice and get me some clothes," he grinned as he watched the boy reach towards his robes from the previous night, waiting for just a second so that he'd grabbed them before he spoke again. His voice trembled with mirth as he gleefully revealed, "Oh, not those, kid! I'm pretty sure Sprout threw up on those! More than once!"
To his surprise, Korn didn't drop the robes, standing perfectly still. The only sign of his reaction was his fist tightly clenched around the brown cloth. A soft glow lit up around him, his hair slowly dancing as if tousled by an unseen wind.
"Lighten up, will you?" Escar snickered at the obvious anger. "I'm kidding. Seriously, though. Get me a clean set from my room. I'll be out in a bit, have breakfast, and then it's you and me."
Korn stared at him for a while longer, his eyes shining with the power he was leaking out in slow intervals. "For that, I'm going to sock you real good."
Escar rolled his eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that line. As strong as the brat was currently, he had a ways to go before he could even make him cut loose a little. Minutes later, Korn returned, an identical set of brown robes bundled into his arms as he tapped away at the control panel on the left side of the circular window ahead of him.
The constant metallic hum died, replaced by a slow gurgle from behind him. He stepped out of the tank, expelling the moisture on him by quickly flaring his ki. He slipped his robe on, tied his boots' laces and wandered out of the healing room. Nutritious food was inhaled and he strode out onto the courtyard, nodding at a couple of the older, shaven-headed monks getting their morning workouts in.
"So, are you just gonna stand here and watch me? I can see your legs shaking from here you wuss—" he cupped Korn's fist, inches before it reached his face and smirked. "Come on… you know better than to try that."
"Screw you," Korn grunted, rearing his entire body back, both his feet soaring upwards towards his chin.
Escar watched as he flipped in mid-air, righting himself and hovering above the ground. Always one for flashy shit, that kid, he sighed and shook his head wryly.
"Fancy. At least you can control your power decently. But you know the rules: we fight on the ground or not at all."
Korn held his eyes for a moment and slowly descended.
Just as his feet touched the ground, he burst forward in a blur of movement, arm cocked back and ready to fly. Escar readied his hands, intent on catching the blow and turning the kid's world upside down before he noticed anything had happened.
But where he'd expected to grab onto a childish albeit muscular arm, he felt nothing, staring into the eyes of a flickering mirage. Its lips were pulled up, the half-smirk so smug that it rubbed him all the wrong ways.
"Over here!" Korn roared, speeding towards him heel-first. "I've got you— GAH!"
Escar vanished behind him and stifled his laughter as the boy was sent hurtling across the arid courtyard by a haymaker he obviously couldn't see. It was cut short by a spike in power that had him raise an eyebrow.
"ENOUGH OF THIS, GODDAMN IT!" Korn yelled, his robes covered in dust and dirt. A flaming white aura surged wildly, kicking up dust clouds that fanned outward. "FIGHT ME! OR ARE YA JUST A BITC—!"
Immediately Escar was upon him. Powering through a flurry of jabs and kicks that were strong enough for him to feel… but that was it. A single punch to the temple brought Korn to his knees.
He immediately rocketed to his feet, eyes twinkling with his lips pulled back in a goofy grin that revealed a fair amount of teeth. After noticing his split lip, he wiped it with the back of his hand and laughed. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"
"Fucking maniac," Escar scowled, unnerved by the enthusiasm, his furious retort dying before it had the chance to leave his tongue.
Still, he took up a ready stance, dialling back just enough that the kid would still get something useful out of the clobbering in store for him. Korn wasted no time, jumping up high above his head to kick down at him, leveraging all the momentum he could. Escar blocked it simply by placing a forearm between his head and Korn's leg, pushing against it.
Using his arm as a springboard, Korn flipped backwards, landing on his feet and closing the distance in an instant.
Escar slipped back from a wild hook, smashing three blows into his chest for the slip-up. He could have ended it there but gave him a moment to recover. To his surprise, Korn reared back and slammed his forehead against his own and Escar stumbled slightly, more out of shock than anything else.
Before he could process it, his feet were kicked out from under him, the world shifting axis as he rushed to meet the cracked and dry earth. Yellow light dominated his vision as Korn brought down a ball of searing energy pulsing within his hand.
It would have connected with his head had he not flicked a finger at it, a spark of his suppressed power directed towards it. And as weak as the spark was, it was enough to set off the blast prematurely. He sprung up, all his weight supported by one hand, darting backwards as the resulting explosion pushed Korn in the opposite direction, his palm scorched and blackened in some places.
Escar took the moment of reprieve to admire the kid's fighting style. It lacked the regimented and orderly nature of the styles he'd usually come across from ex-Sadalan Military or the more passive and defensive forms from Abbot's style that was taught at the monastery. But it wasn't so rough that it showed inexperience or needlessly left him open. Just unpredictability. Escar couldn't think of a style better suited for the kid.
For close to fifteen minutes, Escar let the kid dictate the flow of the battle. If he went high, he followed, mirroring the kid's every move, only breaking the dance to keep him on his toes. He would never admit it, but the kid had improved by leaps and bounds from the moronic battle addict who would run headfirst into punches without a second thought.
He snorted a little as Korn accepted a blow to his stomach for the opportunity to take his head off with a hook that tore through the air. Maybe the battle addiction was still strong, but at least he was going about it more smartly.
He loosened his guard a little, blocking a snaking kick towards his head. Escar had an instant to notice his amusement at Korn's widened eyes before he retaliated with an uppercut that he could feel sink into his face, sending him high into the air.
"Don't say you didn't ask for this," he laughed, following the kid's trajectory with an agile leap.
Once he reached the peak of the jump, Escar slammed an elbow into the kid's back, feeling something give way with a sickening crack. Even he winced a little at the sound the kid made as he hurtled to the floor. A low, feeble groan escaped Korn's lips before he enthusiastically embraced the earth.
"Yo!" Escar called out, a little worried. As much as he enjoyed beating on the brat, he didn't want to kill him. "Are you alive? Make a noise or something."
He heard another groan and let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Hoisting Korn onto his shoulder, he made his way across the furthermost dirt track, one that led down a set of stairs and across a torch-lit hallway. Turning left, he slipped through the automatic sliding doors, revealing ten healing tanks neatly placed next to one another.
Escar tossed him into the nearest one, hooking him up to a set of wires to monitor him, and fitted the oxygen mask over his face. He pressed a button and watched the tank fill up with medicinal liquid. Once it was full, he thumped the window lightly to get its occupant's attention.
Somehow, throughout the pain and the walk to the healing chamber, Korn had managed to stay conscious.
"You should get a pretty decent jump out of this," he said, smothering a hint of what realised was pride. "I'm guessing you'll be stronger than Bage when you wake up. Maybe you could put up a decent fight against Callio and win if you play your cards right but Tato'll steamroll the both of you – at the same time. I still don't get why he follows Callio around like a lovesick hound."
He waited around a little after the tank had filled up with liquid, making sure everything was right before he left the monastery in a burst of speed. He zipped through hallways and up the stairs, a cloud of dust trailing behind him as he cut across the courtyard.
With a single leap, he cut through the sky, a flaming white aura sparking to life around him.
"I wonder if Nessa's down to get her bones jumped," he floated in the air for a moment, giving the idea some serious thought before taking off eastward.
If she wasn't, then there was always someone else, somewhere else. Saiyans were just like that.
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 2: Duality
- - -
For Escar, life on Sadala consisted mainly of two things. Getting shitfaced and finding someone to fight. Usually, the two overlapped. Sometimes he'd fight someone while completely pissed. Other times, he'd have a fight, head over to the bar, and then share a drink with his opponent before heading back to the monastery for dinner.
It was a simple life, but one he enjoyed thoroughly. What Saiyan wouldn't? Consuming copious amounts of food and alcohol on top of fighting strong adversaries sounded like absolute heaven to him. Throw in some wild sex every once in a while – preferably with a chick he'd just fought – and that would leave him a delighted man.
"E-Escar," Sprout grunted, sporting several welts, a black eye and a split lip as he hobbled beside him. "Aren't you going to head in?"
Blinking, Escar pushed open the bar's entrance, the cacophony within hitting him all at once. He welcomed it, nodding respectfully at a couple of acquaintances and shooting teasing smirks at women he'd fought and fucked, slowly walking over to the counter, doing his best to not aggravate his bruised and battered body.
Though he would never show just how hurt he was to the moron hobbling beside him. He winced as he sat down, the scorched and blistered skin beneath his robe flaring up. Escar kept his face completely calm, breaking it only to smirk at Sprout when he inevitably let out a pained hiss as he eased himself onto the stool.
"What's wrong, Sprout?" his smirk grew wider. "Don't tell me you want to go home? We haven't even had a single drink yet."
The shorter man growled, a vein pulsing in his forehead. He forced his frown into a smile, eyes narrowing. "H-Heh. Nah, I'm just enjoying the atmosphere. Nice place you picked, eh?"
"It was either here or the brothel-cum-bar on the east side of the capital. I don't know about you but I'd rather not. Might just drop out of the sky on the way there."
"That's a shame." Sprout made a show of slumping in disappointment. "It's been a while since I've banged Quila. I do miss her…"
Escar snorted and, with gargantuan effort, raised a hand to signal to the bartender. "Dakon! How are you today? Any good tips yet?" he raised his pouch, shaking it slightly. "I've got you covered, man."
He could immediately spot the greed light up in the bartender's eyes, the man in question speeding over before he could return the pouch to his waist.
"Well if it ain't Escar!" he boomed, round belly jiggling. "And by the looks of it, you've been at it again," he quickly pulled down two tumblers from the rack behind him, filling them up with the only alcoholic beverage on Sadala: Sunset. "Who won between the two of ya?"
"I did," Escar said with no small amount of pride. "But it was a close one. This bastard here roughed me up pretty good."
Sprout glared at him, rubbing the spot on his arm that he had just thumped. "I'll rough you up even better next time. Gonna wipe that smug grin off your face too."
"You said the same last time, Sprout."
"And?" he raised his voice, smacking the table repeatedly for emphasis. "I got even closer to winning tonight. Imagine what'll happen next time."
He frowned. The match was closer than he'd like to admit, but Escar was still stronger than him. "I—"
Dakon quickly cut in, noticing tension in the air. "Have you two fellas seen the adverts for the annual Sadala tourney?"
"Nah. Can't say I have," Sprout replied. "Why?"
Escar snorted again. It was just like the moron to not pay attention to the biggest event on the planet.
"If ya've looked at them, you'll notice they've added a new division for this year's."
"Oh?" Escar leaned forward. "The snot-nosed brat one?"
"Yeah," Dakon basked in the attention for a moment. "There's a junior division now. See, I dunno why they'd want somethin' like that. It's boring as shit watching the little tykes scrap in the streets. What makes ya think we'd wanna watch them at the Anvil?!"
"Heh, I'm not sure 'bout that one, Dakon," Escar let a small but vicious smile play out across his face. "The brats back at the monastery are persistent fuckers. They ain't half bad too."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Forget Callio, Bage, and Tato for a minute. There's this new kid: Korn," Escar stopped to laugh. "Idiot tried to rob me on my way out of here a while back. Even after drinking a sunset, he was easy to spot. He followed me around the entire day. Didn't care about stopping to get food or taking a leak either."
Sprout let out a snort. "Fucking whelps."
Escar quickly thumped his shoulder again, amused at the pained yelp from the man. "Anyway, the brat's been at the monastery for what? A month or two? Every day at the asscrack of dawn, the bastard comes to my healing tank and demands to fight me."
"Really?" Dakon's voice teetered on the edge of disbelief. "Nah, come off it. No kid can be that stupid."
"HA!" Escar barked out a laugh and took a generous sip from his tumbler. "I swear, you two should see him. A goddamned glutton for punishment, that one. I plant him into the dirt and he gets up again, muttering some shit about a "zenkai."
"You sure you haven't smacked him in the head one too many times, Escar?" Sprout asked, oddly concerned.
"It's good for him," he brushed it off, knocking back the rest of his tumbler. "Kid's gotten stronger by a fuckton. I beat him down, he tries to fight back, I knock his lights out and throw him into a healing tank. Rinse and repeat and you've got the formula for success right there. Mark my words, by the time he hits his first growth spurt, I'll finally have a half-decent training partner besides that old bag of bones."
"Abbot?"
"Who else," Escar scowled, taking out a handful of space credits and slamming them against the counter. "But that's enough chin-wagging. Another one!"
Dakon was happy to oblige, refilling his glass and topping up Sprout's.
Sprout laughed, setting down his tumbler. "You're only mad because you've been whooped by that "old bag of bones" more times than you can count."
"If you've got time to blabber then you ain't drinking enough," he grunted, picking up his tumbler and downing it one go, his throat burning. The liquid settled in his gut, spreading warmth all around his body. "Dakon, you know what to do. Another!"
"Aye, aye," the bartender filled up his tumbler once more before drifting off to greet the next customer.
Now that he had time to process exactly how beat up he was, Escar realised that getting back to the monastery in time for dinner would be a hassle.
"Ah, well," he shrugged and gulped down a mouthful of his drink. "Not much I can do now."
(Break)
Escar opened his eyes. The healing tank hummed, rattling slightly as the water within churned and bubbled, the lower half of his torso tingling with warmth. The periodic beeps and clicks of the system outside monitoring his vitals showed no abnormalities and he counted down the seconds until Korn would stomp his way across the room towards his tank.
Even from within the liquid-filled tank, he could hear the hiss of the doors opening, followed by several colourful curses so loud that he couldn't help but laugh at the irate child standing in front of him. "How's losing treating ya, brat?"
Korn scowled at him and released an explosive breath. His wild mane of hair reached the back of his neck, other parts curling around and resting on his collar bones whilst the rest of it stood up in defiance of gravity.
"Out," he said simply, his eyes steely. "Today's gonna be different, ya raging asshole."
"Heh. You said that yesterday too," he chuckled. "But you know the drill. Drain this thing of the juice and get me some clothes," he grinned as he watched the boy reach towards his robes from the previous night, waiting for just a second so that he'd grabbed them before he spoke again. His voice trembled with mirth as he gleefully revealed, "Oh, not those, kid! I'm pretty sure Sprout threw up on those! More than once!"
To his surprise, Korn didn't drop the robes, standing perfectly still. The only sign of his reaction was his fist tightly clenched around the brown cloth. A soft glow lit up around him, his hair slowly dancing as if tousled by an unseen wind.
"Lighten up, will you?" Escar snickered at the obvious anger. "I'm kidding. Seriously, though. Get me a clean set from my room. I'll be out in a bit, have breakfast, and then it's you and me."
Korn stared at him for a while longer, his eyes shining with the power he was leaking out in slow intervals. "For that, I'm going to sock you real good."
Escar rolled his eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that line. As strong as the brat was currently, he had a ways to go before he could even make him cut loose a little. Minutes later, Korn returned, an identical set of brown robes bundled into his arms as he tapped away at the control panel on the left side of the circular window ahead of him.
The constant metallic hum died, replaced by a slow gurgle from behind him. He stepped out of the tank, expelling the moisture on him by quickly flaring his ki. He slipped his robe on, tied his boots' laces and wandered out of the healing room. Nutritious food was inhaled and he strode out onto the courtyard, nodding at a couple of the older, shaven-headed monks getting their morning workouts in.
"So, are you just gonna stand here and watch me? I can see your legs shaking from here you wuss—" he cupped Korn's fist, inches before it reached his face and smirked. "Come on… you know better than to try that."
"Screw you," Korn grunted, rearing his entire body back, both his feet soaring upwards towards his chin.
Escar watched as he flipped in mid-air, righting himself and hovering above the ground. Always one for flashy shit, that kid, he sighed and shook his head wryly.
"Fancy. At least you can control your power decently. But you know the rules: we fight on the ground or not at all."
Korn held his eyes for a moment and slowly descended.
Just as his feet touched the ground, he burst forward in a blur of movement, arm cocked back and ready to fly. Escar readied his hands, intent on catching the blow and turning the kid's world upside down before he noticed anything had happened.
But where he'd expected to grab onto a childish albeit muscular arm, he felt nothing, staring into the eyes of a flickering mirage. Its lips were pulled up, the half-smirk so smug that it rubbed him all the wrong ways.
"Over here!" Korn roared, speeding towards him heel-first. "I've got you— GAH!"
Escar vanished behind him and stifled his laughter as the boy was sent hurtling across the arid courtyard by a haymaker he obviously couldn't see. It was cut short by a spike in power that had him raise an eyebrow.
"ENOUGH OF THIS, GODDAMN IT!" Korn yelled, his robes covered in dust and dirt. A flaming white aura surged wildly, kicking up dust clouds that fanned outward. "FIGHT ME! OR ARE YA JUST A BITC—!"
Immediately Escar was upon him. Powering through a flurry of jabs and kicks that were strong enough for him to feel… but that was it. A single punch to the temple brought Korn to his knees.
He immediately rocketed to his feet, eyes twinkling with his lips pulled back in a goofy grin that revealed a fair amount of teeth. After noticing his split lip, he wiped it with the back of his hand and laughed. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"
"Fucking maniac," Escar scowled, unnerved by the enthusiasm, his furious retort dying before it had the chance to leave his tongue.
Still, he took up a ready stance, dialling back just enough that the kid would still get something useful out of the clobbering in store for him. Korn wasted no time, jumping up high above his head to kick down at him, leveraging all the momentum he could. Escar blocked it simply by placing a forearm between his head and Korn's leg, pushing against it.
Using his arm as a springboard, Korn flipped backwards, landing on his feet and closing the distance in an instant.
Escar slipped back from a wild hook, smashing three blows into his chest for the slip-up. He could have ended it there but gave him a moment to recover. To his surprise, Korn reared back and slammed his forehead against his own and Escar stumbled slightly, more out of shock than anything else.
Before he could process it, his feet were kicked out from under him, the world shifting axis as he rushed to meet the cracked and dry earth. Yellow light dominated his vision as Korn brought down a ball of searing energy pulsing within his hand.
It would have connected with his head had he not flicked a finger at it, a spark of his suppressed power directed towards it. And as weak as the spark was, it was enough to set off the blast prematurely. He sprung up, all his weight supported by one hand, darting backwards as the resulting explosion pushed Korn in the opposite direction, his palm scorched and blackened in some places.
Escar took the moment of reprieve to admire the kid's fighting style. It lacked the regimented and orderly nature of the styles he'd usually come across from ex-Sadalan Military or the more passive and defensive forms from Abbot's style that was taught at the monastery. But it wasn't so rough that it showed inexperience or needlessly left him open. Just unpredictability. Escar couldn't think of a style better suited for the kid.
For close to fifteen minutes, Escar let the kid dictate the flow of the battle. If he went high, he followed, mirroring the kid's every move, only breaking the dance to keep him on his toes. He would never admit it, but the kid had improved by leaps and bounds from the moronic battle addict who would run headfirst into punches without a second thought.
He snorted a little as Korn accepted a blow to his stomach for the opportunity to take his head off with a hook that tore through the air. Maybe the battle addiction was still strong, but at least he was going about it more smartly.
He loosened his guard a little, blocking a snaking kick towards his head. Escar had an instant to notice his amusement at Korn's widened eyes before he retaliated with an uppercut that he could feel sink into his face, sending him high into the air.
"Don't say you didn't ask for this," he laughed, following the kid's trajectory with an agile leap.
Once he reached the peak of the jump, Escar slammed an elbow into the kid's back, feeling something give way with a sickening crack. Even he winced a little at the sound the kid made as he hurtled to the floor. A low, feeble groan escaped Korn's lips before he enthusiastically embraced the earth.
"Yo!" Escar called out, a little worried. As much as he enjoyed beating on the brat, he didn't want to kill him. "Are you alive? Make a noise or something."
He heard another groan and let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Hoisting Korn onto his shoulder, he made his way across the furthermost dirt track, one that led down a set of stairs and across a torch-lit hallway. Turning left, he slipped through the automatic sliding doors, revealing ten healing tanks neatly placed next to one another.
Escar tossed him into the nearest one, hooking him up to a set of wires to monitor him, and fitted the oxygen mask over his face. He pressed a button and watched the tank fill up with medicinal liquid. Once it was full, he thumped the window lightly to get its occupant's attention.
Somehow, throughout the pain and the walk to the healing chamber, Korn had managed to stay conscious.
"You should get a pretty decent jump out of this," he said, smothering a hint of what realised was pride. "I'm guessing you'll be stronger than Bage when you wake up. Maybe you could put up a decent fight against Callio and win if you play your cards right but Tato'll steamroll the both of you – at the same time. I still don't get why he follows Callio around like a lovesick hound."
He waited around a little after the tank had filled up with liquid, making sure everything was right before he left the monastery in a burst of speed. He zipped through hallways and up the stairs, a cloud of dust trailing behind him as he cut across the courtyard.
With a single leap, he cut through the sky, a flaming white aura sparking to life around him.
"I wonder if Nessa's down to get her bones jumped," he floated in the air for a moment, giving the idea some serious thought before taking off eastward.
If she wasn't, then there was always someone else, somewhere else. Saiyans were just like that.
Yo laddies! For those of you tuned into just this fic, see you in two weeks! But for my sorcerers? I'll see you next Sunday!
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KingSebast
Not too sore, are you?
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I assume the SI is far into the past
MarcusDeGabriel
Well worn.
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I'm pretty sure he's in Universe Six, because he's on planet Salada, NOT planet Vegeta and saiyans with tails are seen as "less".
24caratcoal
Plotbunny Rancher
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I'm under the same impression. The fact that it's implied that most saiyans don't have tails in this is a pretty big clue.
Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
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No. He blasted him point black in the face. The brightness was just a consequence of that.
Arrowblack123
Know what you're doing yet?
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cool, few cool dragon ball FanFiction for me to read.... I'll be following
Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
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Thank you for that, friend.
a guy1013
Versed in the lewd.
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it can be universe 6 or 7, since tail saiyans are not known in Cabba time, meaning we will have a new civil war, since tail saiyans still exist, but it can also be universe 7 , but either way we are too far before canon, so we will never know until we get a visit from beerus or champa
3. Peers
Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
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Disclaimer: I'm but a humble author. This here is something made by a fan, for other fans.
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 3: Peers
- - -
I woke up submerged in water breathing through the chamber-supplied oxygen mask, the wounds from my regular morning beat-down session throbbing. But I could feel the medicinal water working its magic, the body aches growing duller by the minute. It seemed to have healed the worst of my injuries before I woke up which explained why I could breathe without feeling my ribs howling in protest.
It wasn't very often that I slept through entire healing sessions – though it all depended on how badly Escar knocked me into unconsciousness, which was to say: very badly. The only plus to our sparring sessions outside of the zenkai boost was that I got another person to talk to besides Abbot.
My conversations with the elderly man were few and far between on account of him being very, very busy or simply a recluse. But he would make it a point to stop by every once in a while and talk to me about life. On the one hand, I got where he was coming from. It was by no means healthy for me to be pushing my body to the brink every single day for months on end and shun interacting with the rest of the world, but it was simply the fastest way for me to get stronger.
I hadn't the foggiest idea what was out there – none of my knowledge checked out – and besides being able to name a handful of the races on Sadala, getting stronger was the only thing I could do. All the while there might be an intergalactic megalomaniac thousands of times stronger and crueller than Freeza, Cell, Majin Boo, or even Omega Shenron could ever be. Sure, a small part of me was psyched at the idea of fighting them but the rest of me was scared completely witless. I just got my new life; losing it isn't at the top of my to-do list.
In the end, this was always a short-term thing. There would be a limit to how strong I'd be able to become via Escar beating on me anyways. I could feel it every time I woke up. My returns from the injury diminished ever so slightly as the gap between Escar and I closed little by little. But every incremental jump in strength was like a shot of espresso injected into me. I just couldn't get enough of it. The very idea that I could reach the apex of Saiyan strength brought the most childish of grins to my face.
Stifling a yawn, I enjoyed the warmth of the chamber, its metallic noises and shudders soothing me as I waited for it to finish. I remained still until I heard the faint gurgle of water and cracked a relieved grin.
I spread a fair amount of ki around my entire body – standing inside the now-empty tank – and expelled it out with a sharp exhale. Perfectly dry, I leisurely walked out of the chamber, not tracking a single drop of medicinal liquid with me as I bent over to pick up my clothes from the tiled floor. My lips curved upwards. This was it. I could feel the power just out of reach; greater than it was before. I pulled a tank top over my head and let it slip away into myself with practised ease.
The standard monastery-issued robe had lasted me about three months before I decided that I simply couldn't bear the coarseness anymore. All things considered, Abbot was surprisingly calm about it, telling me that I wasn't the first to say so and that he'd put down a batch order of kid-sized shirts, tank tops, and trousers. The monastery dōgi, though, I had no problem with. It was a simple but incredibly comfortable open-chested black vest, tied together with a brown belt, and accompanied by black and brown laced boots and wristbands.
But ever since I stopped wearing the robe, Callio wouldn't stop shooting me death glares. He wasn't exactly warm towards me before that but at least he didn't look at me as if I'd insulted his mother. I puzzled over his shift in attitude for a couple of minutes longer as I jogged out onto the courtyard, spotting Avaco mid-way through his lesson with the three other children, the sides of their gi hanging down their waists, leaving their tanned upper bodies bare.
"Ah, Korn!" the intimidatingly tall monk boomed, his voice reaching me from the start of the dirt path near the main building.
About halfway through it, I gave up jogging at a regular pace and fuelled my limbs with ki, blitzing my way towards him. "Hey, Avaco! How's life treating ya!"
He looked at me appraisingly, his lips curving up. "I'm well… and you've grown stronger again. If I had to ballpark it, I'd say you're a fair bit stronger than Tato."
My gaze moved to a taller-than-average and thickly muscled boy standing protectively beside Callio. Now, that wasn't really saying much since Bage, Callio, and I looked like toddlers despite all being ten, but he easily towered over all three of us. He was probably a Tuffle hybrid if anything. Turquoise eyes narrowed challengingly and he jutted his chin outward as if daring me to strike first. I did my best to give him a disarming smile, sticking my hands up beside my head.
Avaco snorted before a more serious expression crawled across his face. "And while I… disapprove of your method, I can't say that it doesn't work. Though do take some time off to simply live. If not, then what are you training for? Power? And what happens after you attain it?"
I nodded my head, understanding his point. That being said, I couldn't help but feel a flash of annoyance. The smile on my face didn't quite reach my eyes, I'd imagine. "Thank you. I'll do my best."
"Good," was all he said, gesturing that I join the others. I stood next to Bage and hurriedly rolled down my shirt to waist height. Avaco ran his eyes over the line and clasped his hands behind his back, slowly pacing back and forth. "Listen up boys. With the annual Sadalan tournament and its new junior division now only a week away, you – alongside us adults – will be representatives for the monastery."
For a moment, I sneaked a glance at the three kids. Callio stood up a little straighter, with Tato mimicking him and Bage simply rolling his eyes at the two.
"Your fists must be swift. Not a movement wasted. And above all else, you must fight together."
I narrowed my eyes. "Isn't this supposed to be a martial arts tournament?"
"For the first round at least," Avaco carried on. "With the population of Sadala and the sheer number of people of different races and creeds wanting to join it, the first round of the tournament will be a fifteen-minute battle royale. Anyone left standing after the timer runs out advances to the second round."
I reflexively raised my hand, earning a curious look from Avaco. He raised an eyebrow. "...Yes?"
"Wouldn't that mean we'd have to learn to fight together?"
"Indeed."
I frowned and folded my arms. "And then later on, we'd have to fight apart – and possibly against each other – meaning we'd end up knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses better than anyone else."
The bald man cracked a grin, his tail lashing wildly. "That just makes the ensuing battle all the more challenging."
"...True enough," I grinned at the prospect. There weren't any real stakes in the tournament so it wouldn't be a problem. "Question is: what do we do now?"
"For today, I will have each of you spar one another in turn. That way, you become familiar with how you all fight, but also so that I can see how to best fit you all together."
My grin widened even further once I realised I'd be fighting someone who wouldn't punt me across the sky and then make me eat dirt. I dashed across the field, standing a little bit away from the group, cupping my hands over my mouth and yelling, "Who's first? I volunteer!"
"Bear in mind that I said spar, not fight. The entire point of this is to learn. If I wanted you to beat each other into oblivion, I'd do it myself." Avaco turned his head and glanced at the three boys. "Now… does anyone else want to volunteer or should I choose for you?"
"...No," Callio stopped a couple of metres away from me, crossing the field in a matter of seconds and raising several dust clouds on his way. "I'll do it."
More than a little interested in his decision, I faced him, seeing nothing but determination in his steely brown eyes. A little awkwardly, I approached and stuck out a hand for him to shake. "Let's have a good one, yeah?"
He stared at it as if it were some strange foreign object, eventually clasping it before looking at me. "...Sure."
I took my ready stance, clearing my mind of everything but the fight ahead. A searing ki blast wailed as it cut through the air above us, signalling the start of our match. Callio opened his mouth a little before he slammed it shut. Whatever he was about to say wouldn't reach me anytime soon.
His lips pulled back and revealed gritted teeth as he sprung into action. I ducked underneath an elbow to my face, slamming my fist into his stomach in return. It buried itself deep into the unprotected flesh and I smirked at the sensation. There was no way he had time to reinforce himself with ki. He gasped and the air escaping him tickled my nape as I pulled back.
"I've always wanted to try that," I murmured with unrestrained glee. It wasn't as brutal as the punch Goku threw against Freeza, but the connection was solid.
Callio's eyes widened in outrage and I roared, pushing my ki out through my palms in the form of a blast of air. He tumbled across the dirt, managing to right himself and leap into the air. I rocketed up to meet him, closing the gap before he could pepper me with any ki blasts. He struck out with a kick and I brought my forearm up to block it.
"You've got some strong legs there. Any chance you could tell me how you train 'em?" I smirked despite my elbow digging into my ribs.
His frown deepened as he leaned against me with his leg. I sensed a spike in his ki, grimacing as I hurtled towards the ground. My vision was a kaleidoscope of all sorts of colours, sounds, and smells. Digging my hand into the dry earth, I flipped upright, cupping both my hands above my head.
"Woah, that was…" I heard Bage's voice drift over. "Callio! Watch out!"
A wave of yellow ki rushed towards him and a flash of light and deafening explosion was all I could hear and see for a solid few seconds. The smoke cleared to reveal a burnt and blistered Callio. My lips twisted upward at his warning. It was way too late. Sailing through the smoke, I slipped behind him and brought my hands together and slammed him down. He hit the ground so hard that it cratered, pushing him deep into the earth and out of sight.
I hovered above it, waiting for him to burst out at any moment. When he didn't, I stretched out my senses and felt for his ki. Bright blue light shot towards me and I narrowly dodged it by flying up. My jaw dropped as dozens of similar ki blasts fanned out around me, more joining them from the crater below.
"Shit…" I grunted, eyeing the bobbing orbs warily.
It was a smart idea. He'd swarmed me with ki blasts and then suppressed his ki, rendering my senses useless. But at the present, I had bigger things to worry about – like how to avoid fiery death and destruction.
Suddenly, they hurtled towards me and I dropped like a stone, heat washing over my head and back. I aimed for the crater, ki building up in my hand, yellow light escaping between my fingers. Callio streaked out of it, little more than a blur of black and brown.
He struck out against my shoulder with a heavy kick and the blast spun out of my hand wildly, disappearing off into the distance. He stopped to stare blankly at the quickly vanishing ball.
I clenched my hand to stop it quivering. "Let's hope we didn't just kill someone with that, yeah?"
"What?" his head whipped around and he glared at me, closing the distance, the fight starting up once more.
He struck out with a jab that I sandwiched between my bicep and forearm, yanking him towards me. I flooded my muscles with ki, effortlessly spinning him around dozens of times over, eventually letting him go. He cut through the air like a meteorite. My aura sparked to life and I took off after him. Callio's knees slammed into the ground, cracking it, and he barely managed to roll out of the way of the punch descending on his head.
The earth splintered, dust escaping through the cracks. Buried almost elbow-deep into the ground, I brought up my other arm, blocking a front kick to my head. He lashed his foot out again and again. With each kick, I could feel my arm forcibly being pulled out of the earth. He brought up his knee to kick at me again and I tore my arm free, grabbing his leg with both hands and sending him across the courtyard. Back on his feet, Callio dashed towards me and I sprung up, ready to intercept.
"I think that's enough," Avaco blurred into focus between us. "Fifteen minutes are up, after all. Besides, I can see that Bage and Tato are itching to go at it."
I pushed my arms through the sleeves of my shirt and used the brown obi to tie the two sides together. "Yeah. That's fair," I walked up to Callio, offering him another handshake. "So, are we cool now or do we have to fight some more?"
He shook it, a little less hesitant than before. Confusion furrowed his brow. "I… still don't understand you, but I won't say no to fighting you again."
I laughed at that. "What don't you get about me?"
He shook his head, a smile slowly crawling across his face. "Nah, never mind."
"Okay!" Avaco clapped. "Next up: Bage and Tato!"
I took a seat on the far end of the field, Callio sitting down a few spaces to my right. It felt less… tense around him now. As if he'd stopped staring at me without about as much intensity as I did food after training. I looked over at him, his focus set on the ongoing spar between the two boys.
It was clear that Tato was holding back quite a lot. But then again, so was I. The point of the exercise wasn't to faceplant your partner into the ground, it was to gauge each other out and have a chance to show your stuff whilst noting down anything useful. For instance, I'd realised that Callio favoured kicks more than he did punches and that Bage loved to dart around and be as slippery as an eel. Tato simply brute-forced his way through everything the other boy threw, tanking blasts and hits if it meant that he could dish it back tenfold.
As the spar dragged on, I gained a newfound respect for the boys. Each had their style – separate from the monastery-taught arts we all used – and had honed them so they fit in seamlessly with it. That, if nothing else, proved to me how insanely talented Saiyans were in combat. It was like an intrinsic part of us that made itself known with every punch we threw.
After a while, I leaned back on my hands, simply tracking the fight by sensing the two's ki, enjoying the sensation of the sun on my skin. They'd decide to move at speeds too fast for the eye to see anyway. Now and then, I'd hear the clashing of their fists, or the somewhat distant explosion of a ki blast and found myself oddly relaxed by the sounds as I waited to be called up again.
All the while, I wondered what the older monks were making for lunch.
"Focus," Abbot's voice echoed through the empty room situated at the very peak of the monastery, three levels above the healing chamber and one above the halls of residence and nourishment.
Scant rays of sunlight forced their way through the cracks in the stone roofing, their warmth an odd thing in the cool and damp room. I heard a larger body shift and grumble from beside me (probably Tato), followed by the hushed but harsh rebuke from another (that must be Callio). Someone snorted at that and then yelped as a soft thump soon followed.
That one was likely to be Bage being smacked on the head by one of the older monks, I smiled. Not that I was closer to any of the kids my age than I was when I got here, but I'd observed them enough during spars and meditation sessions with Abbot to glean these kinds of things. At least when I wasn't spending the majority of the day in a healing tank.
Every time I stepped out of one, I knew I was stronger. The air felt lighter and I was one step closer to strength. Sure, Super Saiyan felt like a ways away, but not being one didn't exactly diminish my power. I also couldn't help but note the weird sense of displacement I felt every time I stepped out of the tank. It'd feel like only a moment had passed since the sun had begun its ascent. Then a blink of an eye would pass and I would realise I had missed the sunset and that the monastery was readying itself for dinner.
"Let your inner power guide you. Seek it out and let it flow around your body," Abbot's instructions continued despite the disturbance. I cracked an eye open and spotted him levitating in the air, a soft lavender glow surrounding him. "Familiarise yourself with it – focus, Korn. Do not let your mind wander, else your power will swiftly follow."
My eyes snapped shut immediately and I did as asked. I barely had to stretch out to reach it, shivering slightly at the pleasant surge of energy rushing through my body.
"That's too much, Korn," an older monk spoke from a little further behind me – Avaco, I realised.
I shifted, drawing from the energy at a slower rate than I had before. Gradually, it abated and I spent time experimenting with what was left. Shifting it around my body, spreading it equally across it, and concentrating the power in a single place. A little while later, I lifted my hands, placing them parallel to each other and slowly channelled the energy between them. I must have used too much because even with my eyes closed, I could feel the pressure of the light on my eyelids. Sighing, I slowly pulled it back until it was gone, opening my eyes to a feeble-looking ball of light. It even looked a little transparent.
I smiled and tossed it back and forth between my hands, making sure to replenish it slightly each time it touched either of my palms. There wasn't much else to do in the two-hour-long meditation sessions that Abbot led besides play with my ki. There also wasn't anything I could do to get out of them. Barring Escar, everyone in the monastery had to attend a set amount per week. Probably a special privilege granted by his strength. These days, I bet he was stronger than Abbot.
When it was all said and done, I enjoyed the meditation sessions – even the tail conditioning Abbot put us through at the start of every one. They didn't feel at all long but that was a given considering most of my day passed in the literal blink of an eye. My hands stilled and I slowly pulled the energy from it back into myself, cycling it around my body in whatever way I felt like. When I opened my eyes again, everyone was just about finished, most beginning to stir from their cross-legged spots on the floor.
"We have reached the end of today's session, it seems," Abbot was standing at the front of the room. "And just in time for dinner too. Be on your way, gentlemen. I shall meet you in the hall of nourishment shortly."
I stretched, arching my back as I did, making sure to keep my tail clear of anyone passing. Just as I was getting ready to follow them, Abbot called after me.
"Just a moment if you will, young Korn."
"Yes?" I stopped at the door, half-turned towards him.
"Walk with me," he ambled around me and wandered out of the room, leaving me a tad confused.
I jogged to catch up with him, remembering with some amusement how I did the same thing the first time we met.
"What can I do for you, old man?"
"You know, as much as you're vocal about your distaste regarding Escar, you're more like him than you'd think." the amusement in his voice was as clear as the day outside and managed to bug me. He slowed down his pace to match mine, staring serenely out of the simple, glassless stone windows lining the hallway. "The Sadala annual tournament begins next week, does it not?"
"...It does."
"And how is your training for it going?"
"Pretty good, actually. I'm getting along alright with Tato and Bage. Though Callio seems a bit prickly at times even if he's a lot more open than before."
Abbot chuckled, "It's not due to any fault of his own. That's just how he is. Have some patience with him; he's had a hard life."
I chose not to comment on that and we fell back into an odd silence. Abbot strode along the simple hallway at a leisurely pace, humming a soft tune to himself. I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. I really couldn't tell. There was always a calm steadfastness about him. In his posture, his manner of speaking, and his expressions. Just everything.
"Korn."
I jumped, not expecting the serious tone of his voice. "W-What?"
He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, stopping completely. He turned around, and somehow, even through the blindfold, his gaze felt intense. I gulped a little, consciously making sure to not step back.
"I've tried to be diplomatic about this – especially with the tournament closing in but I will stand aside no longer."
I frowned, my lips pursed in grim anticipation.
"From today, neither Escar nor any of the other monks stronger than you will help in abusing our race's inherent ability to gain strength after recovering from injury—"
"—Wait, what?!—"
He finished, shoulders slumping. "I-I… I do not like to be forceful, but you leave me no other choice, my boy. I have asked you multiple times to slow down. You could have done numerous things such as lowering your sparring sessions with Escar to a few times a week instead of daily, or simply keep yourself from being fatally injured in said spars. You did neither of these things even when they would have cost you relatively nothing."
I struggled to form a coherent reply, coming to a standstill. As upset as I was with his decision, he was right on all accounts. I could have done any of those but didn't. No… it was more accurate to say that I didn't want to. Intentionally curtailing my training felt wrong to me, and now, I wouldn't be able to do so.
"I…" pausing, I rubbed the back of my head, more ashamed at the situation than anything else. "...Nah you're right, Abbot. I could've compromised and as much as I hate to admit it, if I were you, I'd do the same thing."
His lips turned up in a small smile. "I'm glad you are choosing to be mature about this, Korn. At least you differ from Escar in that sense. If he were here, he'd be throwing a fit. But… if I may suggest something, perhaps go and explore the Capital during the week? In these five months you have lived with us, not once have you left the walls of the monastery."
I started walking beside him, peering out at the sprawling city in the distance. Even with the dejection pooling in my chest, I felt the rise of my curiosity. A small pinprick at first, but the longer I stared, the larger it grew. "You know what? That… that might not be a bad idea."
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 3: Peers
- - -
I woke up submerged in water breathing through the chamber-supplied oxygen mask, the wounds from my regular morning beat-down session throbbing. But I could feel the medicinal water working its magic, the body aches growing duller by the minute. It seemed to have healed the worst of my injuries before I woke up which explained why I could breathe without feeling my ribs howling in protest.
It wasn't very often that I slept through entire healing sessions – though it all depended on how badly Escar knocked me into unconsciousness, which was to say: very badly. The only plus to our sparring sessions outside of the zenkai boost was that I got another person to talk to besides Abbot.
My conversations with the elderly man were few and far between on account of him being very, very busy or simply a recluse. But he would make it a point to stop by every once in a while and talk to me about life. On the one hand, I got where he was coming from. It was by no means healthy for me to be pushing my body to the brink every single day for months on end and shun interacting with the rest of the world, but it was simply the fastest way for me to get stronger.
I hadn't the foggiest idea what was out there – none of my knowledge checked out – and besides being able to name a handful of the races on Sadala, getting stronger was the only thing I could do. All the while there might be an intergalactic megalomaniac thousands of times stronger and crueller than Freeza, Cell, Majin Boo, or even Omega Shenron could ever be. Sure, a small part of me was psyched at the idea of fighting them but the rest of me was scared completely witless. I just got my new life; losing it isn't at the top of my to-do list.
In the end, this was always a short-term thing. There would be a limit to how strong I'd be able to become via Escar beating on me anyways. I could feel it every time I woke up. My returns from the injury diminished ever so slightly as the gap between Escar and I closed little by little. But every incremental jump in strength was like a shot of espresso injected into me. I just couldn't get enough of it. The very idea that I could reach the apex of Saiyan strength brought the most childish of grins to my face.
Stifling a yawn, I enjoyed the warmth of the chamber, its metallic noises and shudders soothing me as I waited for it to finish. I remained still until I heard the faint gurgle of water and cracked a relieved grin.
I spread a fair amount of ki around my entire body – standing inside the now-empty tank – and expelled it out with a sharp exhale. Perfectly dry, I leisurely walked out of the chamber, not tracking a single drop of medicinal liquid with me as I bent over to pick up my clothes from the tiled floor. My lips curved upwards. This was it. I could feel the power just out of reach; greater than it was before. I pulled a tank top over my head and let it slip away into myself with practised ease.
The standard monastery-issued robe had lasted me about three months before I decided that I simply couldn't bear the coarseness anymore. All things considered, Abbot was surprisingly calm about it, telling me that I wasn't the first to say so and that he'd put down a batch order of kid-sized shirts, tank tops, and trousers. The monastery dōgi, though, I had no problem with. It was a simple but incredibly comfortable open-chested black vest, tied together with a brown belt, and accompanied by black and brown laced boots and wristbands.
But ever since I stopped wearing the robe, Callio wouldn't stop shooting me death glares. He wasn't exactly warm towards me before that but at least he didn't look at me as if I'd insulted his mother. I puzzled over his shift in attitude for a couple of minutes longer as I jogged out onto the courtyard, spotting Avaco mid-way through his lesson with the three other children, the sides of their gi hanging down their waists, leaving their tanned upper bodies bare.
"Ah, Korn!" the intimidatingly tall monk boomed, his voice reaching me from the start of the dirt path near the main building.
About halfway through it, I gave up jogging at a regular pace and fuelled my limbs with ki, blitzing my way towards him. "Hey, Avaco! How's life treating ya!"
He looked at me appraisingly, his lips curving up. "I'm well… and you've grown stronger again. If I had to ballpark it, I'd say you're a fair bit stronger than Tato."
My gaze moved to a taller-than-average and thickly muscled boy standing protectively beside Callio. Now, that wasn't really saying much since Bage, Callio, and I looked like toddlers despite all being ten, but he easily towered over all three of us. He was probably a Tuffle hybrid if anything. Turquoise eyes narrowed challengingly and he jutted his chin outward as if daring me to strike first. I did my best to give him a disarming smile, sticking my hands up beside my head.
Avaco snorted before a more serious expression crawled across his face. "And while I… disapprove of your method, I can't say that it doesn't work. Though do take some time off to simply live. If not, then what are you training for? Power? And what happens after you attain it?"
I nodded my head, understanding his point. That being said, I couldn't help but feel a flash of annoyance. The smile on my face didn't quite reach my eyes, I'd imagine. "Thank you. I'll do my best."
"Good," was all he said, gesturing that I join the others. I stood next to Bage and hurriedly rolled down my shirt to waist height. Avaco ran his eyes over the line and clasped his hands behind his back, slowly pacing back and forth. "Listen up boys. With the annual Sadalan tournament and its new junior division now only a week away, you – alongside us adults – will be representatives for the monastery."
For a moment, I sneaked a glance at the three kids. Callio stood up a little straighter, with Tato mimicking him and Bage simply rolling his eyes at the two.
"Your fists must be swift. Not a movement wasted. And above all else, you must fight together."
I narrowed my eyes. "Isn't this supposed to be a martial arts tournament?"
"For the first round at least," Avaco carried on. "With the population of Sadala and the sheer number of people of different races and creeds wanting to join it, the first round of the tournament will be a fifteen-minute battle royale. Anyone left standing after the timer runs out advances to the second round."
I reflexively raised my hand, earning a curious look from Avaco. He raised an eyebrow. "...Yes?"
"Wouldn't that mean we'd have to learn to fight together?"
"Indeed."
I frowned and folded my arms. "And then later on, we'd have to fight apart – and possibly against each other – meaning we'd end up knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses better than anyone else."
The bald man cracked a grin, his tail lashing wildly. "That just makes the ensuing battle all the more challenging."
"...True enough," I grinned at the prospect. There weren't any real stakes in the tournament so it wouldn't be a problem. "Question is: what do we do now?"
"For today, I will have each of you spar one another in turn. That way, you become familiar with how you all fight, but also so that I can see how to best fit you all together."
My grin widened even further once I realised I'd be fighting someone who wouldn't punt me across the sky and then make me eat dirt. I dashed across the field, standing a little bit away from the group, cupping my hands over my mouth and yelling, "Who's first? I volunteer!"
"Bear in mind that I said spar, not fight. The entire point of this is to learn. If I wanted you to beat each other into oblivion, I'd do it myself." Avaco turned his head and glanced at the three boys. "Now… does anyone else want to volunteer or should I choose for you?"
"...No," Callio stopped a couple of metres away from me, crossing the field in a matter of seconds and raising several dust clouds on his way. "I'll do it."
More than a little interested in his decision, I faced him, seeing nothing but determination in his steely brown eyes. A little awkwardly, I approached and stuck out a hand for him to shake. "Let's have a good one, yeah?"
He stared at it as if it were some strange foreign object, eventually clasping it before looking at me. "...Sure."
I took my ready stance, clearing my mind of everything but the fight ahead. A searing ki blast wailed as it cut through the air above us, signalling the start of our match. Callio opened his mouth a little before he slammed it shut. Whatever he was about to say wouldn't reach me anytime soon.
His lips pulled back and revealed gritted teeth as he sprung into action. I ducked underneath an elbow to my face, slamming my fist into his stomach in return. It buried itself deep into the unprotected flesh and I smirked at the sensation. There was no way he had time to reinforce himself with ki. He gasped and the air escaping him tickled my nape as I pulled back.
"I've always wanted to try that," I murmured with unrestrained glee. It wasn't as brutal as the punch Goku threw against Freeza, but the connection was solid.
Callio's eyes widened in outrage and I roared, pushing my ki out through my palms in the form of a blast of air. He tumbled across the dirt, managing to right himself and leap into the air. I rocketed up to meet him, closing the gap before he could pepper me with any ki blasts. He struck out with a kick and I brought my forearm up to block it.
"You've got some strong legs there. Any chance you could tell me how you train 'em?" I smirked despite my elbow digging into my ribs.
His frown deepened as he leaned against me with his leg. I sensed a spike in his ki, grimacing as I hurtled towards the ground. My vision was a kaleidoscope of all sorts of colours, sounds, and smells. Digging my hand into the dry earth, I flipped upright, cupping both my hands above my head.
"Woah, that was…" I heard Bage's voice drift over. "Callio! Watch out!"
A wave of yellow ki rushed towards him and a flash of light and deafening explosion was all I could hear and see for a solid few seconds. The smoke cleared to reveal a burnt and blistered Callio. My lips twisted upward at his warning. It was way too late. Sailing through the smoke, I slipped behind him and brought my hands together and slammed him down. He hit the ground so hard that it cratered, pushing him deep into the earth and out of sight.
I hovered above it, waiting for him to burst out at any moment. When he didn't, I stretched out my senses and felt for his ki. Bright blue light shot towards me and I narrowly dodged it by flying up. My jaw dropped as dozens of similar ki blasts fanned out around me, more joining them from the crater below.
"Shit…" I grunted, eyeing the bobbing orbs warily.
It was a smart idea. He'd swarmed me with ki blasts and then suppressed his ki, rendering my senses useless. But at the present, I had bigger things to worry about – like how to avoid fiery death and destruction.
Suddenly, they hurtled towards me and I dropped like a stone, heat washing over my head and back. I aimed for the crater, ki building up in my hand, yellow light escaping between my fingers. Callio streaked out of it, little more than a blur of black and brown.
He struck out against my shoulder with a heavy kick and the blast spun out of my hand wildly, disappearing off into the distance. He stopped to stare blankly at the quickly vanishing ball.
I clenched my hand to stop it quivering. "Let's hope we didn't just kill someone with that, yeah?"
"What?" his head whipped around and he glared at me, closing the distance, the fight starting up once more.
He struck out with a jab that I sandwiched between my bicep and forearm, yanking him towards me. I flooded my muscles with ki, effortlessly spinning him around dozens of times over, eventually letting him go. He cut through the air like a meteorite. My aura sparked to life and I took off after him. Callio's knees slammed into the ground, cracking it, and he barely managed to roll out of the way of the punch descending on his head.
The earth splintered, dust escaping through the cracks. Buried almost elbow-deep into the ground, I brought up my other arm, blocking a front kick to my head. He lashed his foot out again and again. With each kick, I could feel my arm forcibly being pulled out of the earth. He brought up his knee to kick at me again and I tore my arm free, grabbing his leg with both hands and sending him across the courtyard. Back on his feet, Callio dashed towards me and I sprung up, ready to intercept.
"I think that's enough," Avaco blurred into focus between us. "Fifteen minutes are up, after all. Besides, I can see that Bage and Tato are itching to go at it."
I pushed my arms through the sleeves of my shirt and used the brown obi to tie the two sides together. "Yeah. That's fair," I walked up to Callio, offering him another handshake. "So, are we cool now or do we have to fight some more?"
He shook it, a little less hesitant than before. Confusion furrowed his brow. "I… still don't understand you, but I won't say no to fighting you again."
I laughed at that. "What don't you get about me?"
He shook his head, a smile slowly crawling across his face. "Nah, never mind."
"Okay!" Avaco clapped. "Next up: Bage and Tato!"
I took a seat on the far end of the field, Callio sitting down a few spaces to my right. It felt less… tense around him now. As if he'd stopped staring at me without about as much intensity as I did food after training. I looked over at him, his focus set on the ongoing spar between the two boys.
It was clear that Tato was holding back quite a lot. But then again, so was I. The point of the exercise wasn't to faceplant your partner into the ground, it was to gauge each other out and have a chance to show your stuff whilst noting down anything useful. For instance, I'd realised that Callio favoured kicks more than he did punches and that Bage loved to dart around and be as slippery as an eel. Tato simply brute-forced his way through everything the other boy threw, tanking blasts and hits if it meant that he could dish it back tenfold.
As the spar dragged on, I gained a newfound respect for the boys. Each had their style – separate from the monastery-taught arts we all used – and had honed them so they fit in seamlessly with it. That, if nothing else, proved to me how insanely talented Saiyans were in combat. It was like an intrinsic part of us that made itself known with every punch we threw.
After a while, I leaned back on my hands, simply tracking the fight by sensing the two's ki, enjoying the sensation of the sun on my skin. They'd decide to move at speeds too fast for the eye to see anyway. Now and then, I'd hear the clashing of their fists, or the somewhat distant explosion of a ki blast and found myself oddly relaxed by the sounds as I waited to be called up again.
All the while, I wondered what the older monks were making for lunch.
(Break)
"Focus," Abbot's voice echoed through the empty room situated at the very peak of the monastery, three levels above the healing chamber and one above the halls of residence and nourishment.
Scant rays of sunlight forced their way through the cracks in the stone roofing, their warmth an odd thing in the cool and damp room. I heard a larger body shift and grumble from beside me (probably Tato), followed by the hushed but harsh rebuke from another (that must be Callio). Someone snorted at that and then yelped as a soft thump soon followed.
That one was likely to be Bage being smacked on the head by one of the older monks, I smiled. Not that I was closer to any of the kids my age than I was when I got here, but I'd observed them enough during spars and meditation sessions with Abbot to glean these kinds of things. At least when I wasn't spending the majority of the day in a healing tank.
Every time I stepped out of one, I knew I was stronger. The air felt lighter and I was one step closer to strength. Sure, Super Saiyan felt like a ways away, but not being one didn't exactly diminish my power. I also couldn't help but note the weird sense of displacement I felt every time I stepped out of the tank. It'd feel like only a moment had passed since the sun had begun its ascent. Then a blink of an eye would pass and I would realise I had missed the sunset and that the monastery was readying itself for dinner.
"Let your inner power guide you. Seek it out and let it flow around your body," Abbot's instructions continued despite the disturbance. I cracked an eye open and spotted him levitating in the air, a soft lavender glow surrounding him. "Familiarise yourself with it – focus, Korn. Do not let your mind wander, else your power will swiftly follow."
My eyes snapped shut immediately and I did as asked. I barely had to stretch out to reach it, shivering slightly at the pleasant surge of energy rushing through my body.
"That's too much, Korn," an older monk spoke from a little further behind me – Avaco, I realised.
I shifted, drawing from the energy at a slower rate than I had before. Gradually, it abated and I spent time experimenting with what was left. Shifting it around my body, spreading it equally across it, and concentrating the power in a single place. A little while later, I lifted my hands, placing them parallel to each other and slowly channelled the energy between them. I must have used too much because even with my eyes closed, I could feel the pressure of the light on my eyelids. Sighing, I slowly pulled it back until it was gone, opening my eyes to a feeble-looking ball of light. It even looked a little transparent.
I smiled and tossed it back and forth between my hands, making sure to replenish it slightly each time it touched either of my palms. There wasn't much else to do in the two-hour-long meditation sessions that Abbot led besides play with my ki. There also wasn't anything I could do to get out of them. Barring Escar, everyone in the monastery had to attend a set amount per week. Probably a special privilege granted by his strength. These days, I bet he was stronger than Abbot.
When it was all said and done, I enjoyed the meditation sessions – even the tail conditioning Abbot put us through at the start of every one. They didn't feel at all long but that was a given considering most of my day passed in the literal blink of an eye. My hands stilled and I slowly pulled the energy from it back into myself, cycling it around my body in whatever way I felt like. When I opened my eyes again, everyone was just about finished, most beginning to stir from their cross-legged spots on the floor.
"We have reached the end of today's session, it seems," Abbot was standing at the front of the room. "And just in time for dinner too. Be on your way, gentlemen. I shall meet you in the hall of nourishment shortly."
I stretched, arching my back as I did, making sure to keep my tail clear of anyone passing. Just as I was getting ready to follow them, Abbot called after me.
"Just a moment if you will, young Korn."
"Yes?" I stopped at the door, half-turned towards him.
"Walk with me," he ambled around me and wandered out of the room, leaving me a tad confused.
I jogged to catch up with him, remembering with some amusement how I did the same thing the first time we met.
"What can I do for you, old man?"
"You know, as much as you're vocal about your distaste regarding Escar, you're more like him than you'd think." the amusement in his voice was as clear as the day outside and managed to bug me. He slowed down his pace to match mine, staring serenely out of the simple, glassless stone windows lining the hallway. "The Sadala annual tournament begins next week, does it not?"
"...It does."
"And how is your training for it going?"
"Pretty good, actually. I'm getting along alright with Tato and Bage. Though Callio seems a bit prickly at times even if he's a lot more open than before."
Abbot chuckled, "It's not due to any fault of his own. That's just how he is. Have some patience with him; he's had a hard life."
I chose not to comment on that and we fell back into an odd silence. Abbot strode along the simple hallway at a leisurely pace, humming a soft tune to himself. I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. I really couldn't tell. There was always a calm steadfastness about him. In his posture, his manner of speaking, and his expressions. Just everything.
"Korn."
I jumped, not expecting the serious tone of his voice. "W-What?"
He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, stopping completely. He turned around, and somehow, even through the blindfold, his gaze felt intense. I gulped a little, consciously making sure to not step back.
"I've tried to be diplomatic about this – especially with the tournament closing in but I will stand aside no longer."
I frowned, my lips pursed in grim anticipation.
"From today, neither Escar nor any of the other monks stronger than you will help in abusing our race's inherent ability to gain strength after recovering from injury—"
"—Wait, what?!—"
He finished, shoulders slumping. "I-I… I do not like to be forceful, but you leave me no other choice, my boy. I have asked you multiple times to slow down. You could have done numerous things such as lowering your sparring sessions with Escar to a few times a week instead of daily, or simply keep yourself from being fatally injured in said spars. You did neither of these things even when they would have cost you relatively nothing."
I struggled to form a coherent reply, coming to a standstill. As upset as I was with his decision, he was right on all accounts. I could have done any of those but didn't. No… it was more accurate to say that I didn't want to. Intentionally curtailing my training felt wrong to me, and now, I wouldn't be able to do so.
"I…" pausing, I rubbed the back of my head, more ashamed at the situation than anything else. "...Nah you're right, Abbot. I could've compromised and as much as I hate to admit it, if I were you, I'd do the same thing."
His lips turned up in a small smile. "I'm glad you are choosing to be mature about this, Korn. At least you differ from Escar in that sense. If he were here, he'd be throwing a fit. But… if I may suggest something, perhaps go and explore the Capital during the week? In these five months you have lived with us, not once have you left the walls of the monastery."
I started walking beside him, peering out at the sprawling city in the distance. Even with the dejection pooling in my chest, I felt the rise of my curiosity. A small pinprick at first, but the longer I stared, the larger it grew. "You know what? That… that might not be a bad idea."
Hello everyone! Thanks for reading. Please do review since it lets me know what people are enjoying and what they're not. I do have a Patreon page but until my exams end, there'll be a single tier that functions as a tip jar where people can donate if they're feeling generous. Please don't feel forced to do so; you'll gain nothing from it. No chapters, no hidden bonuses, nothing. Just give me your thoughts on what I write. That's enough, I think.
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4. Stay Away
Eternal Yujin
Not drowning in uni assignments... yet
- Joined
- Oct 1, 2022
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Disclaimer: I'm but a humble author. This here is something made by a fan, for other fans.
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 4: Stay Away
- - -
The sun glared down on me, warm but in an intense sort of way. The ground beneath me was hard, a few small but sharp things poking into my back. Groggily, I sat up, the warmth shifting to the top of my head as I yawned. I blinked a few times before I realised this wasn't my room at all. I swiped my hands over the ground, the action kicking up a small amount of dust.
"The hell?!" I sprung to my feet in an instant and took up a stance, spreading a small amount of ki around me.
Usually, simple ki sensing would work, but depending on how much someone suppressed their own, it'd take too long. This way was much faster but had a far smaller range.
I found nothing and relaxed a little, turning my eyes skyward. A sudden gust of wind seemed to raise me into the air, my aura roaring to life, flickering angrily as I speared my way through the air.
Once I was high enough, I peered around, a quick search telling me that I was close enough to the monastery – specifically at the bottom of the steep, winding track that led up to the only entrance and exit.
I relaxed my aura, drawing the comforting power into myself but still left enough to remain in the air. Unconsciously, I stuck my hands into my pockets, eyebrows jumping up once I felt the slip of paper within one of them. I pulled it out, reading the exquisite penmanship written across its length.
"A good morning… banned from the monastery unless… sleeping, eating or bathing?" my eyes grew progressively wider as I read. "Best wishes… Abbot?!"
For a split second, sheer disbelief dominated my heart. I had no idea why I'd been more or less thrown out, not at first. After that came the fear – small at first but growing as allowed my thoughts more and more freedom to run wild. How had he brought me out here without knowing? Sure, I was completely unguarded when asleep but surely I'd recognise being moved around for that long?!
After a while, when the immediate shock and horror died down, I began to laugh, realising the meaning behind it all. It was more or less an extravagant and absurd way of telling me to go out and explore. The question was, where would I even begin?
"Let's see…" I breathed out, slowly descending and raking my eyes over the sprawling city.
I fixed my eyes on a particular area, flying well above the morning's commuters. Some bundled groceries into bags that they tucked beneath their armpits, others simply struggled to suppress yawns as they floated over to the Bazaar.
The Bazaar was by far the poorest part of the Capital. The abandoned construction projects around were enough evidence of that. Its only saving grace was that you could find all sorts of stuff here. If you could think of it, the Bazaar probably had it. If not, there was probably some seedy bastard lurking around who'd find it.
My stomach growled and I momentarily looked back to the monastery, the beginnings of an idea forming in my head. It would be all too easy to simply fly over the fence and head into the hall of nourishment.
"You know what? Let's grab some breakfast!" I decided, hurtling downwards at speeds that would bring tears to most eyes, marvelling at how the dirt track cut through the city, trailing from the base of the mountain range leading towards the monastery.
Flying above it was one thing, but walking along the streets of Sadala's capital – simply known as the Capital – was another experience entirely. It was something I didn't know I'd missed. The tracks hadn't been paved using any machinery at all. If you looked close enough, you'd notice that they were simply the paths cut into the earth by the citizens. Countless footsteps from people of all races stretched across every street corner and winding path.
As I walked between crowds of people going about their day, I immediately realised how much it sucked to be knee-height. With how spacious the monastery was, it wasn't something I noticed very often. I was dwarfed by more or less everyone around – besides a few pasty-skinned, oval-headed people that looked similar to Tarble's wife – something that annoyed me to no end.
I stretched out my senses, taking stock of the average battle power of the Capital's population. Most were about half as weak as Bage. Granted, most Saiyans rarely fought in active combat unless in preparation for the annual tournament, if they were in the military or were serious about martial arts. The rest simply loitered around, working odd jobs, a few attending schools, and living mostly ordinary lives. Every so often, I'd catch wind of some absurdly strong people. First a Namekian, then an insanely muscular, four-armed red-skinned alien, and after that, a Saiyan.
She was a very tall woman; bulky but managing to not look too wide. Thick locks of hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, fanning the small, golden hoop earrings looped around her earlobes. Her densely muscled arms were riddled with deep and shallow scars. She wore a black unitard, leaving her tree trunk-like thighs bare; a set of black and gold Freeza-force-like armour held up by straps wrapped itself around her shoulders.
Her brown eyes lowered as she walked past me, a curious smile lifting the corners of her lips. "A strong little tyke, ain't ya?"
"I've got to be," I replied as I walked away. Damn did it feel good to be noticed for my efforts. "Gonna win the tourney after all."
Her raucous laughter followed me up the incline leading to a shadow-covered trail. The path eventually narrowed as I moved my way into the bazaar, a familiar sense of déjà vu making itself known to me. These were my old stomping grounds; where I used to rob and pillage to make a living.
The abandoned infrastructure and scaffolding slowly crept inwards as I followed the long line of people heading into the Bazaar itself. The cries of vendors and the tones of a flute grew louder, all sorts of scents and sounds coming together.
"Freshly roasted triangular beast!" one boomed, a round man with a bushy moustache, waving around the large wing of what seemed to be a pterodactyl.
It wasn't really of much shock to me. I'd see them from time to time during martial arts sessions with Avaco and the rest. The beasts would swoop over the courtyards, bringing with them great gusts of winds, circling overhead as they leered down at us. A couple of ki blasts fired off in warning were usually enough to scare them away but the real confident ones got a thrashing from one of the older monks.
Those were always a treat to watch. I closed my eyes and smiled a little wistfully, the scent of freshly baked bread drifting towards me. My lips curved upwards as I made my way over to a familiar stall.
"Yo! How've ya been, hag!" I yelled, pushing myself through the tide of people going back and forth.
My smile widened as she walked out, her face thunderous, with a pan in hand almost out of habit. Mayze sported a deep tan thanks to a decade of hard work in the sun. She was short but pretty curvy, only about a half a head taller than me (making her around four-foot-five funnily enough), with messy dark hair that curled around her shoulders, wild orange eyes, and fanged canines. From what she'd told me, she was a quarter Saiyan, Tuffle, and only Kami knew what else. She wore ragged brown robes, cut out to make some kind of dress, thin slings pulling it up by her shoulders and accentuating her already big enough chest.
"Ya sorry brat! Are ya stealin' again? Don't ya ever learn?! I'll beat some sense into y—!" she yelled, her voice cutting off midway as her eyes found mine. Relief flooded across her face, as I leaned over the wooden counter of her small stall. "Korn?! I… I thought ya died!"
I scratched the back of my head a little embarrassedly. I'd all but forgotten about her after Escar more or less kidnapped me. "Yeah… nah I'm still alive, Mayze."
"Where've ya been hidin'? Stopped stealin' too," she added. "Everyone 'round here thought ya died. It's been ages since we've seen your damned tail flyin' about."
I laughed at that, wiping mirthful tears from my eyes at the mental image.
"Sheesh… I was a real bastard, huh?" I coughed out the last of my laughter and cleared my throat. "I've been livin' in the monastery with Escar an' them."
Her face scrunched up into a frown at the mention of him and she spat out on the side of her stall, derision clear in her voice. "Escar. That damn bastard walks around here every day, carryin' around one floozy or another. Scares off my customers too. At least he buys a crap-ton of bread once he realises how piss-drunk he is."
She stomped back into the cloth-covered area of her wooden stall. "Well come in, why don't ya?"
Without a moment's hesitation, I followed her, knowing that I'd probably get some food out of it. The inside of her tent was about as threadbare as it was when I last saw it. A double bed was shoved into a corner, the rest of it relatively empty save for the bare necessities and cooking equipment taking up most of the centre.
"Here," she shoved a piping hot loaf in my hands that I tore into gratefully, soon returning with a glass of water.
"Thanks," I smiled, sitting down on the floor.
For a few moments, I enjoyed the slight sourness of the bread, my eyes roaming about the place in search of her daughter.
"Hey, Mayze… where's Carole?" I asked. "Doesn't she usually help you bake right about now?"
Her face twisted at my question. I leaned forwards, the loaf in my hands momentarily forgotten.
"The dickwad thugs makin' us pay a "protection fee" turned up a few weeks back. Jacked up the price of it cuz of the tourney. Bastards probably wanna gamble it all. Carole's been goin' 'round the Capital, workin' odd jobs to get enough money to help pay it."
"...And the Defence Force?"
She damn near growled at the mention of the planet's military-cum-police force. "Bribed."
I blinked several times. "Wait… all of them?!"
Mayze swatted a fly from somewhere around her head. "No… not all of 'em. Just the ones patrollin' the Bazaar."
"Shit…" I cursed. There wasn't any other way to put it. I sighed and stood up. "If it gets too hard, go all in on me when betting. I'm plenty strong and it's the least I can do to help you out. Ya did feed me when I was a little gobshite after all. Any idea where she'd be?"
I swallowed the last of my bread, washing it down with a glass of water, enjoying the clash of endearment and irritation that swept itself across her face.
Eventually, Mayze simply shook her head with a wry smile. "Ya can try the Royal sector. Said she was movin' around some training equipment to the Anvil for the tourney next week. The organisers came by a month back to grab some people from here. Pay sounded pretty decent if ya want a crack at it as well."
"Thanks, Mayze, and the bread's as nice as always."
She snorted, lightly swatting my arm. "Yeah, yeah. Love to flatter me, don't ya? Right before runnin' off with four other loaves. Off with ya, brat."
I rolled my eyes as I walked out of her tent, swiping a few loaves with a chuckle as I reached the roof of the opposite building in a single leap.
Two Oozaru statues greeted me on my way in, forcing me up a set of large, glimmering steps to the Anvil. Its oval shape stretched far beyond my field of vision, taking up everything I could see. I drank in the sight, focused on the carved artwork on its pillars and walls depicting the story of a civil war past. The Saiyans engaged in bitter combat, not against an invader or evil overlord, but each other. The tailed, waging war in their Oozaru forms and laying waste to the planet and those against them. The tailless, banding with the Tuffles to defend their home.
I wandered around the structure, almost as if in a fever dream. King Sadala stood tall, once a scrawny child, growing into the tall and imposing man I saw statues of on my here, rousing his people to action. Eventually, I sat down and did nothing but stare at the architecture, losing myself in its intricacies. It was like I found something new to admire about it the longer I stared. But eventually, I had to leave, slowly floating upward, my eyes lingering with reluctance.
The Anvil was a military training facility for most of the year. But on a special week, it was home to the planet's most popular event. Overlooking it was King Sadala's palace, its opulent stained glass windows glimmering in the noontide sun. It wasn't nearly as ornate as the Palace but the sheer size of it was astounding. Not unlike the Roman Colosseum I'd seen pictures of on Earth. A large oval-shaped structure, held up by countless pillars spanning the entirety of its circumference.
I touched down near a familiar ki signature a ways off the entrance to the Anvil at a landing strip. I was happy to notice that they had grown stronger in the last six months. Admittedly not by much but it was still something.
I angled around a corner, coming out onto a stone pathway, the roar of an aircraft's engines growing louder. Sweat-soaked crowds marched in and out of its back door, carrying large metal boxes over their heads. Some were larger than average carrying multiple crates stacked atop each other. The first wave receded and I entered the aircraft with a spurt of ki-fuelled movement, my sight latched onto a single ki signature.
Creeping around the ankles and knees of the workers, I jumped up latching onto the shoulders of a short but lithe, pony-tailed girl. Her usually wild hair was tied back into a ponytail, held down by at least a dozen rubber bands. They weren't enough and a few bangs managed to escape, hanging down her sweat-covered forehead.
"Boo!" I yelled, cackling as she suddenly jerked. All the equipment she held went flying, slowly drifting to her feet.
"Wha-! W-What the fuck are you—!" she grabbed the scruff of my shirt, pulling me over her shoulder and dangling me in front of her face. Her eyes were the same shade of amber as her mother, glaring at me for all of a single second before shock slackened her taught facial muscles. "K-Korn?!"
I gave her a mock salute, painfully aware of how easily she towered over me despite the relatively small age gap. Damned Saiyan genes. "Yo."
"Don't "yo" me!" she thundered and she shook me back and forth like a ragdoll. As always, she was completely oblivious to the dozens of curious eyes on her. "Ya don't call! Ya don't visit! Goddamn it, I thought ya died, brat!"
"I know, I know," I stuck up my hands. "Though I met ya ma earlier. She said you'd be here. I've been livin' at the monastery for a while now. You could've just visited me? And what do you mean by "brat"? You're only three years older than me!"
She plopped me down, muttering something about the age difference being two-and-half years and not knowing how she'd find me before getting down on a knee to return the spilt armour and bodysuits to the container.
"C'mon, Carole," I picked up an armour set, stretching it out with little effort. "I forgot and it's nice there. I don't have to fight for food, steal money, or sleep with an eye open and my door locked shut. Oh, wait. The abandoned buildin' I was squatting in didn't even have doors."
She grunted and rose, closing the container beforehand, before bracing herself. "Alright. I get it, 'kay? But it still sucks that ya forgot about us."
She wore a pair of shorts white and a dark orange tank top but even through them, I could see each of her muscles flex as she heaved it up. Tattoos of two open-mawed Chinese dragons coiled up her arms and into her shirt. The thick, inky scales peeked out of the gaps between her sleeves and crossed at the base of her neck. She trudged out of the aircraft and I followed her before chucking the chestplate into one of the open boxes behind me.
"...Sorry, Carole." I broke the silence whilst I stretched out my senses out of idle boredom. "Where are you taking this stuff anyway?"
"The Anvil." she continued marching on, one foot after the next, even under the blistering sunlight. At least her voice had lost most of the heat from before.
"Want some help?"
She snorted. "Be my guest. Just know that I ain't payin' ya for it."
I chuckled as we approached the place, the sounds of combat easily picked up by ears. Carole walked through a side entrance, entering a tunnel that I damn-near sprinted through.
"Oi, calm down."
"Huh?" I scrunched up my brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Carole laughed. "I can hear your tail goin' wild back there."
True to word, I looked back, my tail was unconsciously lashing wildly from side to side, in step with my thundering heart.
"Well… what can a Saiyan do?" I smirked.
I couldn't see her face, but I'm pretty sure she rolled her eyes. "Whatever, hotshot. Just don't do anythin' stupid."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Carole." even then, I clenched my fist as my heart continued to beat even faster. "Wouldn't dream of it…"
The sudden sunlight blinded me as we came out of the tunnel but it didn't matter. I could sense most of what was going on anyway. Thunderous clashes of fists rang out dozens of times over; the place was flooded in ki. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed a short-haired, armour-clad man leaning against the wall beside us, a stack of crates to his right. His beard was neat, the same for his armour, but everything about him screamed of laziness.
"Set those down right here," he grunted, scratching at his beard. A little intrigue coloured his face when he saw me. "Huh. You're a strong little bastard, ain't ya?"
As Carole placed the crate down, I sized him up – metaphorically speaking. Slowly stretching out my senses to get a grasp of his ki, my ki was abuzz in anticipation when a flash of pain erupted across the back of my head.
"Hey!" I rubbed the sore spot, my focus completely shot. "The fuck was that for?!"
Carole leaned down and hissed into my ear, "Dumbass! Look at the band on his arm! He's Royal Guard!"
I froze immediately, seeing the black and gold striped band tied to his left bicep. That put the guy in an entirely new light to me. If he was part of the Royal Guard then he had to be the best of the best; the King's guard. There wasn't anyone stronger than them besides King Sadala himself.
"Nah, don't let that scare you," the man smirked and jutted his chin at my tail. "Are you interested in a career in the military?"
"...Not really, no."
"Don't be like that. There are a ton of benefits for tailed Saiyans. You get free housing in the Merchant Sector after completing five successful tours – ten if you want in on the Royal Quarters – some support with your first kid, and some extra space credits when you retire. That Oozaru form of yours is pretty darn useful to have, you know?"
"Free housing, huh?"
Now that was tempting. After all, housing in Sadala got pretty damn expensive depending on what you wanted. All the nice things were in the Merchant and Royal sectors – which meant state-of-the-art training equipment and food – since that's where most migrant races moved to. Smaller settlements circled the Capital, but most of Sadala was wilderness outside of the spherical city.
Carole placed a hand on my shoulder and attempted to steer me away. I snorted and simply dug my heels into the ground. "Head back if you want. I'll meet you at your ma's, 'kay?"
"Fuck it. Can't say I didn't try. I swear on everything, Korn, if you get blown to bits that's on you!" she gave me the deadliest glare I'd ever seen before stomping off, her tattoos rippling; almost like the twin dragons would burst out of her at a moment's notice.
The Guardsman chuckled, "Now there's attitude and then there's that."
I smacked a fist against my palm, ignoring his comment. "Alright. I'll join up. But first, I'm going to fight in the tourney's junior division and get even stronger."
He gave me an amused glance and went back to leaning against the wall.
"And I'll win it."
"Really? I'll admit, you're a strong brat, but there are other strong brats around, you know? What if you don't get past the first stage?"
"That won't happen," I flashed a self-confident smile. "And if you bet on me – or the monastery – you'll go home a happy man."
"The monastery?" he kicked off the wall and eyed me up. "You aren't wearing that ragged brown robe."
"It's too uncomfortable," I grunted. "I don't like how it feels when I fight in it. Honestly, I dunno how Escar does it."
"Ah, Escar," he grinned. "He's a favourite of the Royal Guard."
"He is?"
"Yeah. We bet on him every year. Sure, he doesn't win but he goes far enough and is always the underdog when it comes to betting. Dunno why. Don't the organisers ever learn?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Good on ya, I guess."
He leaned over and ruffled my hair so fast I was sure I'd be sporting a bald patch. "Don't forget what you just promised, kid."
I slowly floated up, searching for the ongoing fight between the two fighting too fast for me to track. "Oh, I won't. If I get to fight like that, I'll come running."
His booming laughter was evidence enough that he liked the idea. I smiled to myself, eyes alert, darting around as I followed the shockwaves exploding throughout the arena.
In the words of a notorious abridged group: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
- - -
Chapter 4: Stay Away
- - -
The sun glared down on me, warm but in an intense sort of way. The ground beneath me was hard, a few small but sharp things poking into my back. Groggily, I sat up, the warmth shifting to the top of my head as I yawned. I blinked a few times before I realised this wasn't my room at all. I swiped my hands over the ground, the action kicking up a small amount of dust.
"The hell?!" I sprung to my feet in an instant and took up a stance, spreading a small amount of ki around me.
Usually, simple ki sensing would work, but depending on how much someone suppressed their own, it'd take too long. This way was much faster but had a far smaller range.
I found nothing and relaxed a little, turning my eyes skyward. A sudden gust of wind seemed to raise me into the air, my aura roaring to life, flickering angrily as I speared my way through the air.
Once I was high enough, I peered around, a quick search telling me that I was close enough to the monastery – specifically at the bottom of the steep, winding track that led up to the only entrance and exit.
I relaxed my aura, drawing the comforting power into myself but still left enough to remain in the air. Unconsciously, I stuck my hands into my pockets, eyebrows jumping up once I felt the slip of paper within one of them. I pulled it out, reading the exquisite penmanship written across its length.
"A good morning… banned from the monastery unless… sleeping, eating or bathing?" my eyes grew progressively wider as I read. "Best wishes… Abbot?!"
For a split second, sheer disbelief dominated my heart. I had no idea why I'd been more or less thrown out, not at first. After that came the fear – small at first but growing as allowed my thoughts more and more freedom to run wild. How had he brought me out here without knowing? Sure, I was completely unguarded when asleep but surely I'd recognise being moved around for that long?!
After a while, when the immediate shock and horror died down, I began to laugh, realising the meaning behind it all. It was more or less an extravagant and absurd way of telling me to go out and explore. The question was, where would I even begin?
"Let's see…" I breathed out, slowly descending and raking my eyes over the sprawling city.
I fixed my eyes on a particular area, flying well above the morning's commuters. Some bundled groceries into bags that they tucked beneath their armpits, others simply struggled to suppress yawns as they floated over to the Bazaar.
The Bazaar was by far the poorest part of the Capital. The abandoned construction projects around were enough evidence of that. Its only saving grace was that you could find all sorts of stuff here. If you could think of it, the Bazaar probably had it. If not, there was probably some seedy bastard lurking around who'd find it.
My stomach growled and I momentarily looked back to the monastery, the beginnings of an idea forming in my head. It would be all too easy to simply fly over the fence and head into the hall of nourishment.
"You know what? Let's grab some breakfast!" I decided, hurtling downwards at speeds that would bring tears to most eyes, marvelling at how the dirt track cut through the city, trailing from the base of the mountain range leading towards the monastery.
Flying above it was one thing, but walking along the streets of Sadala's capital – simply known as the Capital – was another experience entirely. It was something I didn't know I'd missed. The tracks hadn't been paved using any machinery at all. If you looked close enough, you'd notice that they were simply the paths cut into the earth by the citizens. Countless footsteps from people of all races stretched across every street corner and winding path.
As I walked between crowds of people going about their day, I immediately realised how much it sucked to be knee-height. With how spacious the monastery was, it wasn't something I noticed very often. I was dwarfed by more or less everyone around – besides a few pasty-skinned, oval-headed people that looked similar to Tarble's wife – something that annoyed me to no end.
I stretched out my senses, taking stock of the average battle power of the Capital's population. Most were about half as weak as Bage. Granted, most Saiyans rarely fought in active combat unless in preparation for the annual tournament, if they were in the military or were serious about martial arts. The rest simply loitered around, working odd jobs, a few attending schools, and living mostly ordinary lives. Every so often, I'd catch wind of some absurdly strong people. First a Namekian, then an insanely muscular, four-armed red-skinned alien, and after that, a Saiyan.
She was a very tall woman; bulky but managing to not look too wide. Thick locks of hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, fanning the small, golden hoop earrings looped around her earlobes. Her densely muscled arms were riddled with deep and shallow scars. She wore a black unitard, leaving her tree trunk-like thighs bare; a set of black and gold Freeza-force-like armour held up by straps wrapped itself around her shoulders.
Her brown eyes lowered as she walked past me, a curious smile lifting the corners of her lips. "A strong little tyke, ain't ya?"
"I've got to be," I replied as I walked away. Damn did it feel good to be noticed for my efforts. "Gonna win the tourney after all."
Her raucous laughter followed me up the incline leading to a shadow-covered trail. The path eventually narrowed as I moved my way into the bazaar, a familiar sense of déjà vu making itself known to me. These were my old stomping grounds; where I used to rob and pillage to make a living.
The abandoned infrastructure and scaffolding slowly crept inwards as I followed the long line of people heading into the Bazaar itself. The cries of vendors and the tones of a flute grew louder, all sorts of scents and sounds coming together.
"Freshly roasted triangular beast!" one boomed, a round man with a bushy moustache, waving around the large wing of what seemed to be a pterodactyl.
It wasn't really of much shock to me. I'd see them from time to time during martial arts sessions with Avaco and the rest. The beasts would swoop over the courtyards, bringing with them great gusts of winds, circling overhead as they leered down at us. A couple of ki blasts fired off in warning were usually enough to scare them away but the real confident ones got a thrashing from one of the older monks.
Those were always a treat to watch. I closed my eyes and smiled a little wistfully, the scent of freshly baked bread drifting towards me. My lips curved upwards as I made my way over to a familiar stall.
"Yo! How've ya been, hag!" I yelled, pushing myself through the tide of people going back and forth.
My smile widened as she walked out, her face thunderous, with a pan in hand almost out of habit. Mayze sported a deep tan thanks to a decade of hard work in the sun. She was short but pretty curvy, only about a half a head taller than me (making her around four-foot-five funnily enough), with messy dark hair that curled around her shoulders, wild orange eyes, and fanged canines. From what she'd told me, she was a quarter Saiyan, Tuffle, and only Kami knew what else. She wore ragged brown robes, cut out to make some kind of dress, thin slings pulling it up by her shoulders and accentuating her already big enough chest.
"Ya sorry brat! Are ya stealin' again? Don't ya ever learn?! I'll beat some sense into y—!" she yelled, her voice cutting off midway as her eyes found mine. Relief flooded across her face, as I leaned over the wooden counter of her small stall. "Korn?! I… I thought ya died!"
I scratched the back of my head a little embarrassedly. I'd all but forgotten about her after Escar more or less kidnapped me. "Yeah… nah I'm still alive, Mayze."
"Where've ya been hidin'? Stopped stealin' too," she added. "Everyone 'round here thought ya died. It's been ages since we've seen your damned tail flyin' about."
I laughed at that, wiping mirthful tears from my eyes at the mental image.
"Sheesh… I was a real bastard, huh?" I coughed out the last of my laughter and cleared my throat. "I've been livin' in the monastery with Escar an' them."
Her face scrunched up into a frown at the mention of him and she spat out on the side of her stall, derision clear in her voice. "Escar. That damn bastard walks around here every day, carryin' around one floozy or another. Scares off my customers too. At least he buys a crap-ton of bread once he realises how piss-drunk he is."
She stomped back into the cloth-covered area of her wooden stall. "Well come in, why don't ya?"
Without a moment's hesitation, I followed her, knowing that I'd probably get some food out of it. The inside of her tent was about as threadbare as it was when I last saw it. A double bed was shoved into a corner, the rest of it relatively empty save for the bare necessities and cooking equipment taking up most of the centre.
"Here," she shoved a piping hot loaf in my hands that I tore into gratefully, soon returning with a glass of water.
"Thanks," I smiled, sitting down on the floor.
For a few moments, I enjoyed the slight sourness of the bread, my eyes roaming about the place in search of her daughter.
"Hey, Mayze… where's Carole?" I asked. "Doesn't she usually help you bake right about now?"
Her face twisted at my question. I leaned forwards, the loaf in my hands momentarily forgotten.
"The dickwad thugs makin' us pay a "protection fee" turned up a few weeks back. Jacked up the price of it cuz of the tourney. Bastards probably wanna gamble it all. Carole's been goin' 'round the Capital, workin' odd jobs to get enough money to help pay it."
"...And the Defence Force?"
She damn near growled at the mention of the planet's military-cum-police force. "Bribed."
I blinked several times. "Wait… all of them?!"
Mayze swatted a fly from somewhere around her head. "No… not all of 'em. Just the ones patrollin' the Bazaar."
"Shit…" I cursed. There wasn't any other way to put it. I sighed and stood up. "If it gets too hard, go all in on me when betting. I'm plenty strong and it's the least I can do to help you out. Ya did feed me when I was a little gobshite after all. Any idea where she'd be?"
I swallowed the last of my bread, washing it down with a glass of water, enjoying the clash of endearment and irritation that swept itself across her face.
Eventually, Mayze simply shook her head with a wry smile. "Ya can try the Royal sector. Said she was movin' around some training equipment to the Anvil for the tourney next week. The organisers came by a month back to grab some people from here. Pay sounded pretty decent if ya want a crack at it as well."
"Thanks, Mayze, and the bread's as nice as always."
She snorted, lightly swatting my arm. "Yeah, yeah. Love to flatter me, don't ya? Right before runnin' off with four other loaves. Off with ya, brat."
I rolled my eyes as I walked out of her tent, swiping a few loaves with a chuckle as I reached the roof of the opposite building in a single leap.
(Break)
Two Oozaru statues greeted me on my way in, forcing me up a set of large, glimmering steps to the Anvil. Its oval shape stretched far beyond my field of vision, taking up everything I could see. I drank in the sight, focused on the carved artwork on its pillars and walls depicting the story of a civil war past. The Saiyans engaged in bitter combat, not against an invader or evil overlord, but each other. The tailed, waging war in their Oozaru forms and laying waste to the planet and those against them. The tailless, banding with the Tuffles to defend their home.
I wandered around the structure, almost as if in a fever dream. King Sadala stood tall, once a scrawny child, growing into the tall and imposing man I saw statues of on my here, rousing his people to action. Eventually, I sat down and did nothing but stare at the architecture, losing myself in its intricacies. It was like I found something new to admire about it the longer I stared. But eventually, I had to leave, slowly floating upward, my eyes lingering with reluctance.
The Anvil was a military training facility for most of the year. But on a special week, it was home to the planet's most popular event. Overlooking it was King Sadala's palace, its opulent stained glass windows glimmering in the noontide sun. It wasn't nearly as ornate as the Palace but the sheer size of it was astounding. Not unlike the Roman Colosseum I'd seen pictures of on Earth. A large oval-shaped structure, held up by countless pillars spanning the entirety of its circumference.
I touched down near a familiar ki signature a ways off the entrance to the Anvil at a landing strip. I was happy to notice that they had grown stronger in the last six months. Admittedly not by much but it was still something.
I angled around a corner, coming out onto a stone pathway, the roar of an aircraft's engines growing louder. Sweat-soaked crowds marched in and out of its back door, carrying large metal boxes over their heads. Some were larger than average carrying multiple crates stacked atop each other. The first wave receded and I entered the aircraft with a spurt of ki-fuelled movement, my sight latched onto a single ki signature.
Creeping around the ankles and knees of the workers, I jumped up latching onto the shoulders of a short but lithe, pony-tailed girl. Her usually wild hair was tied back into a ponytail, held down by at least a dozen rubber bands. They weren't enough and a few bangs managed to escape, hanging down her sweat-covered forehead.
"Boo!" I yelled, cackling as she suddenly jerked. All the equipment she held went flying, slowly drifting to her feet.
"Wha-! W-What the fuck are you—!" she grabbed the scruff of my shirt, pulling me over her shoulder and dangling me in front of her face. Her eyes were the same shade of amber as her mother, glaring at me for all of a single second before shock slackened her taught facial muscles. "K-Korn?!"
I gave her a mock salute, painfully aware of how easily she towered over me despite the relatively small age gap. Damned Saiyan genes. "Yo."
"Don't "yo" me!" she thundered and she shook me back and forth like a ragdoll. As always, she was completely oblivious to the dozens of curious eyes on her. "Ya don't call! Ya don't visit! Goddamn it, I thought ya died, brat!"
"I know, I know," I stuck up my hands. "Though I met ya ma earlier. She said you'd be here. I've been livin' at the monastery for a while now. You could've just visited me? And what do you mean by "brat"? You're only three years older than me!"
She plopped me down, muttering something about the age difference being two-and-half years and not knowing how she'd find me before getting down on a knee to return the spilt armour and bodysuits to the container.
"C'mon, Carole," I picked up an armour set, stretching it out with little effort. "I forgot and it's nice there. I don't have to fight for food, steal money, or sleep with an eye open and my door locked shut. Oh, wait. The abandoned buildin' I was squatting in didn't even have doors."
She grunted and rose, closing the container beforehand, before bracing herself. "Alright. I get it, 'kay? But it still sucks that ya forgot about us."
She wore a pair of shorts white and a dark orange tank top but even through them, I could see each of her muscles flex as she heaved it up. Tattoos of two open-mawed Chinese dragons coiled up her arms and into her shirt. The thick, inky scales peeked out of the gaps between her sleeves and crossed at the base of her neck. She trudged out of the aircraft and I followed her before chucking the chestplate into one of the open boxes behind me.
"...Sorry, Carole." I broke the silence whilst I stretched out my senses out of idle boredom. "Where are you taking this stuff anyway?"
"The Anvil." she continued marching on, one foot after the next, even under the blistering sunlight. At least her voice had lost most of the heat from before.
"Want some help?"
She snorted. "Be my guest. Just know that I ain't payin' ya for it."
I chuckled as we approached the place, the sounds of combat easily picked up by ears. Carole walked through a side entrance, entering a tunnel that I damn-near sprinted through.
"Oi, calm down."
"Huh?" I scrunched up my brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Carole laughed. "I can hear your tail goin' wild back there."
True to word, I looked back, my tail was unconsciously lashing wildly from side to side, in step with my thundering heart.
"Well… what can a Saiyan do?" I smirked.
I couldn't see her face, but I'm pretty sure she rolled her eyes. "Whatever, hotshot. Just don't do anythin' stupid."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Carole." even then, I clenched my fist as my heart continued to beat even faster. "Wouldn't dream of it…"
The sudden sunlight blinded me as we came out of the tunnel but it didn't matter. I could sense most of what was going on anyway. Thunderous clashes of fists rang out dozens of times over; the place was flooded in ki. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed a short-haired, armour-clad man leaning against the wall beside us, a stack of crates to his right. His beard was neat, the same for his armour, but everything about him screamed of laziness.
"Set those down right here," he grunted, scratching at his beard. A little intrigue coloured his face when he saw me. "Huh. You're a strong little bastard, ain't ya?"
As Carole placed the crate down, I sized him up – metaphorically speaking. Slowly stretching out my senses to get a grasp of his ki, my ki was abuzz in anticipation when a flash of pain erupted across the back of my head.
"Hey!" I rubbed the sore spot, my focus completely shot. "The fuck was that for?!"
Carole leaned down and hissed into my ear, "Dumbass! Look at the band on his arm! He's Royal Guard!"
I froze immediately, seeing the black and gold striped band tied to his left bicep. That put the guy in an entirely new light to me. If he was part of the Royal Guard then he had to be the best of the best; the King's guard. There wasn't anyone stronger than them besides King Sadala himself.
"Nah, don't let that scare you," the man smirked and jutted his chin at my tail. "Are you interested in a career in the military?"
"...Not really, no."
"Don't be like that. There are a ton of benefits for tailed Saiyans. You get free housing in the Merchant Sector after completing five successful tours – ten if you want in on the Royal Quarters – some support with your first kid, and some extra space credits when you retire. That Oozaru form of yours is pretty darn useful to have, you know?"
"Free housing, huh?"
Now that was tempting. After all, housing in Sadala got pretty damn expensive depending on what you wanted. All the nice things were in the Merchant and Royal sectors – which meant state-of-the-art training equipment and food – since that's where most migrant races moved to. Smaller settlements circled the Capital, but most of Sadala was wilderness outside of the spherical city.
Carole placed a hand on my shoulder and attempted to steer me away. I snorted and simply dug my heels into the ground. "Head back if you want. I'll meet you at your ma's, 'kay?"
"Fuck it. Can't say I didn't try. I swear on everything, Korn, if you get blown to bits that's on you!" she gave me the deadliest glare I'd ever seen before stomping off, her tattoos rippling; almost like the twin dragons would burst out of her at a moment's notice.
The Guardsman chuckled, "Now there's attitude and then there's that."
I smacked a fist against my palm, ignoring his comment. "Alright. I'll join up. But first, I'm going to fight in the tourney's junior division and get even stronger."
He gave me an amused glance and went back to leaning against the wall.
"And I'll win it."
"Really? I'll admit, you're a strong brat, but there are other strong brats around, you know? What if you don't get past the first stage?"
"That won't happen," I flashed a self-confident smile. "And if you bet on me – or the monastery – you'll go home a happy man."
"The monastery?" he kicked off the wall and eyed me up. "You aren't wearing that ragged brown robe."
"It's too uncomfortable," I grunted. "I don't like how it feels when I fight in it. Honestly, I dunno how Escar does it."
"Ah, Escar," he grinned. "He's a favourite of the Royal Guard."
"He is?"
"Yeah. We bet on him every year. Sure, he doesn't win but he goes far enough and is always the underdog when it comes to betting. Dunno why. Don't the organisers ever learn?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Good on ya, I guess."
He leaned over and ruffled my hair so fast I was sure I'd be sporting a bald patch. "Don't forget what you just promised, kid."
I slowly floated up, searching for the ongoing fight between the two fighting too fast for me to track. "Oh, I won't. If I get to fight like that, I'll come running."
His booming laughter was evidence enough that he liked the idea. I smiled to myself, eyes alert, darting around as I followed the shockwaves exploding throughout the arena.
Feeling pretty generous this week so here's another! A little update on the process of this fic: I'm over halfway through writing Chapter 7. I like to have a couple of chapters saved for rainy day. As per usual, if you're feeling generous heading to my Patreon — link's in my signature. Now, I think I'm the most nervous for this chapter. It's a lot more slice of life orientated but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Please leave your thoughts in a review; I'd really appreciate it! ^^
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xbox432
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This has been a pretty interesting read so far. I generally stay away from DBZ fics because the power scaling gets ridiculous, but you've done a great job of drawing me in and getting me interested. I'm curious to see how you'll have things pan out for Korn going forward.
Eternal Yujin
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Thanks! I'm glad your enjoying it. Korn will get strong, but it won't be anything stupid.
Grimmouse197
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To be clear this is universe 6 right?
a guy1013
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maybe, but since we have tail saiyans and cabba from the anime didnt know about tail saiyans means we can be either 6 or 7, but we do know there was a civil war, but the difference between 6 and 7 is the legend of the supersaiyan happen in 7 unlike 6, but we can get another civil war later on, so unless champa or beerus comes we will never know, since we are soo far back before canon we will never know for sure
Eternal Yujin
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It is, yes. I'll confirm it here just to be completely clear.
a guy1013
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finally and threadmark it in extra, so when people ask again you can post it there, and im sad or relieve ,since no we know which universe, but for sure its way before canon, since again Cabba does not know about tailed saiyans at all, so at minimum its like 4 or 5 generations before canon , since 250 years is long enough for people to not care, but the civil war thing happening might make this over 1000 or 3000 years, since the super saiyan legend happen 1000 or 3000 years before canon, and thats what spark the divergence between 6 and 7
Count Daath
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I know he named after corn, but everytime I see or read his name all I can think about is Khorne, and his skull throne.
Eternal Yujin
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I should probably put AU in the synopsis, shouldn't I. Tailed Saiyans are a minority in this fic. They're not completely extinct yet.
Eternal Yujin
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I searched that up and dear Lord is he intimidating!
a guy1013
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maybe, but it depends if you want to add characters like kale and caulifla or cabba, but some rando oc saiyans, you can make it stay the same, since 1000 or 3000 years is a long time, like we dont even know how people 100 years live unless we go to a library or do a basic google search, unless you want to do a universe 6 vs 7 arc withint a couple chapters or so
Eternal Yujin
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You'll know where this is in the timeline within the next two chapters, don't worry.