While the Supreme Kai assembly continued, elsewhere in the universe—near its furthest edge, on a newly colonized planet—a massive army prepared for departure.
Cold wind howled across the barren landscape. Gravel pelted faces like tiny projectiles. Low clouds hung oppressively overhead, causing everyone present to break out in nervous sweat. Of course, they weren't sweating because of the weather—they were sweating because of the figure standing before them.
Frieza.
The tyrant stood atop a high ridge, one foot planted on a jutting rock, overlooking the vast number of subordinates assembled below. His eyes were ice-cold, devoid of mercy. He held a glass of crystal-clear red wine, the vessel swaying gently as the blood-like liquid rose and fell within.
"Everyone! We have waited for so long, and finally the moment of revenge has arrived. Ohohoho!" Frieza's voice carried across the gathered forces, proud and glacial, displaying the arrogance of a space emperor. "Those who forced us to hide in the corners of the universe will all die!"
CRASH!
The wine glass struck the ground and shattered with a crisp sound—like the sound of a world breaking apart, spreading through the assembled army.
"Tagoma! As vanguard, you will lead the troops to attack the Saiyan Homeworld!"
"Yes, Lord Frieza!" Tagoma shouted immediately after receiving such an important assignment, his voice trembling with excitement.
Within Frieza's current organization, Tagoma was the most favored officer. Frieza's respect for him was obvious to everyone. Among those who'd accompanied Frieza during his intensive training, Tagoma had grown the fastest. His current strength far surpassed even Captain Ginyu at his peak, and he'd earned the grudging respect of the entire force.
Similar in status was Sorbet—a tactical genius who frequently advised Frieza. It was under Sorbet's careful management that Frieza's Legion had survived under the relentless pressure of the Galactic Justice League.
Seeing Frieza assign the vanguard position to Tagoma, Sorbet felt a flash of dissatisfaction. He stepped forward, preparing to voice his concerns.
Frieza smiled knowingly. "Sorbet, don't worry. I have an equally important task for you—one as crucial as Tagoma's assignment."
As he spoke, an enormous flagship floated into view behind him. The roar of its engines starting up echoed across the wasteland like thousands of beasts bellowing in unison.
Behind the massive flagship, numerous smaller warships fell into formation. This was Frieza's elite unit—many exceptional fighters had been recruited into this particular force. Frieza intended to place this entire contingent under Sorbet's command.
"My lord, this is..."
Sorbet was profoundly shocked. He hadn't expected Lord Frieza to entrust him with the elite troops—it was an incredible honor.
"You will lead them to capture territory from the Galactic Justice League. Eliminate those troublesome pests!" Frieza's cold eyes blazed with murderous intent. His voice was soft yet seemed to conceal razor-sharp needles beneath each word. "The others will follow me to a place called... Earth!"
"YES, LORD FRIEZA!"
The earth-shattering chorus of voices nearly shattered the low-hanging clouds. Everyone supported Frieza's strategic decision, raising arms and weapons in salute.
Frieza smiled with dark satisfaction. The reason he'd arranged things this way was simple—he'd come to understand that numerical superiority couldn't overcome fundamental gaps in power. Even ten thousand weaklings with power levels of five couldn't defeat a single warrior with a power level of fifty thousand. Apart from slaughtering defenseless mortals, bringing massive armies served no purpose against Saiyans—they'd only get in the way. Sometimes they'd even provoke his anger with their incompetence!
Better not to bring such subordinates at all. Let Tagoma and Sorbet lead forces to eliminate opponents at their respective levels, maximizing resource efficiency.
He would personally handle the truly formidable enemies.
Raditz. Son Goku. Vegeta. Piccolo...
A series of names flashed through his mind, making Frieza's expression grow even more vicious. Sharp killing intent seemed to penetrate space itself, enveloping the entire world.
If anyone asked about his lifelong nemesis, he would answer without hesitation: the Saiyans. Those savage monkeys were more infuriating than any other race. They'd destroyed his grand ambition of universal domination, caused him to suffer torment in the underworld. His first life had been dedicated to conquering the cosmos. Since escaping the afterlife, his efforts had been focused primarily on a different goal—eliminating his old enemies and exacting revenge.
He wanted to watch the fireworks when that damn monkey planet was destroyed again. That spectacle had been magnificent and terrible—the temperature and light had made him feel exquisitely satisfied. This time, Frieza would ignite those same fireworks on Earth and rise once more to absolute power!
Glancing one final time at this decaying wasteland planet, Frieza felt no nostalgia whatsoever. He turned and departed, boarding his flagship. He'd had more than enough of this place—it bored him profoundly. How could the Emperor of the Universe remain confined to such a remote backwater?
"Depart!" With a single command, the massive fleet rapidly lifted skyward.
The moment they cleared the atmosphere, Frieza extended one finger toward the planet below and conjured a brilliant sphere of energy. The blazing orb rushed toward the planet like a miniature sun—incredibly fast and devastatingly powerful.
The instant it struck, fiery red light filled the entire dark void of space. For a brief moment, no more intense illumination existed anywhere in the universe. The crimson glow and flames distorted vision itself—light and shadow folding and interweaving like fabric being pulled and twisted.
"Lord Frieza... you..." A new guard standing nearby asked with trembling voice.
He couldn't understand why Frieza would be so cruel as to destroy the entire planet. This had been their base of operations, their launching point for rebuilding. The planet still contained valuable resources and advanced equipment. To simply obliterate it all—what a waste!
"Are you questioning me?" Frieza's gaze turned cold as absolute zero.
"N-no... no! This subordinate wouldn't dare!"
Touched by even Frieza's peripheral vision, the man was already terrified beyond measure. He quickly lowered his head. Sweat pattered to the floor like gentle rain.
But Frieza slowly swayed his tail, and his expression shifted to something resembling amusement. "Did you actually want to return to that wretched place? That's the edge of the universe—I never want to see it again."
"This subordinate understands completely."
"Perhaps I should have left you on that planet just now," Frieza said, still smiling. His eyes moved slightly—and that person's body immediately exploded, transforming into a spray of blood and viscera.
A cruel smile hung on his blood-red lips, making everyone nearby tremble with primal fear.
"Clean that up."
"Yes, Lord Frieza!"
"How long until we reach Earth?"
"With our current technological capabilities, it will take approximately seven months without being detected by their sensors. That's factoring in passage through a spatial folding tunnel halfway through the journey."
"Four months," Frieza stated flatly, as if discussing the weather.
"Huh?" The navigator operating the ship's controls looked confused.
Reducing seven months to four was nearly impossible. They couldn't simply accelerate to maximum speed—midway energy consumption and orbital trajectory calculations had to be considered. Space travel wasn't a matter of simply pressing the accelerator harder.
But the lessons of disobedience were already clearly demonstrated. No one dared contradict Frieza's will.
"Y-yes, Lord Frieza!" The navigator nearly screamed through gritted teeth.
"If you fail to arrive in four months, you understand the consequences." Frieza walked toward his private quarters with hands clasped behind his back, intending to rest and revert to his first form to conserve energy for the battles ahead.
Everyone present trembled, bowing their heads respectfully as Frieza departed. The cabin filled with the metallic scent of fresh blood. The atmosphere was suffocatingly oppressive.
The Emperor of the Universe was returning to Earth—and Hell itself was coming with him.