"You got it right," Ken nodded.
"But you really think you can beat me?" Champa sniffed. "I may look a mess, but I've figured it out—your angelic energy is running low, isn't it?"
"You're right again," Ken admitted.
The fight had dragged on. Ken had healed Broly again and again and jumped in himself more than once. His angelic power was nearly wrung dry. If they kept trading blows now, the odds weren't in his favor. The man in front of him was a God of Destruction, after all.
And he and Broly? They were five-year-olds.
Granted, Broly was already brushing his first peak.
"Glad you're honest," Champa said coldly. "Since you know you're running on fumes, can you guess what comes next? I'll teach you a hard lesson about how ruthless the world is—and how bad it is to mess with a God of Destruction!"
He lunged—then paused when Ken suddenly lifted his left arm.
Click.
A small button popped from the gauntlet. Ken pressed it.
Whirr—
In a blink, the black-gold armor collapsed back into his watch. Ken stood in his own skin, but his whole body still shimmered with starlit radiance, hair edged like cut glass.
Ultra Instinct Sign.
After refining his angelic power to 20, Ken had grasped this state—not a "transformation," strictly speaking, but a mode that drew out more of Ultra Instinct's bite. Even so, the glow around him flickered, unstable, threatening to sputter out.
"Oh? Put the armor away?" Champa sneered. "You can still concede. Bow your head, admit you were wrong, let me rough you up a little, and we'll call it even. Given your 'special status,' I'm not keen to erase you."
"Gimme a sec. Almost done," Ken said calmly, tapping his ring three times.
Pop.
A single bean blinked into his palm.
He tossed it into his mouth.
"This isn't snack time," Champa huffed. "Last chance—apologize and—"
Crunch.
Ken bit down, swallowed.
Fwoooom—
Light roared out of him, a pillar lancing into the sky. The Realm of Destruction flooded with brilliance.
"What?!" Champa's pupils shrank. "His power—back to full? That's impossible!"
"Mm-hm. I'm topped off," Ken grinned. "I did the math. With your current injuries and power output, I don't even need the armor to mop the floor with you."
"The bean! That bean just now—does it restore stamina?!" Champa jabbed a trembling finger.
"You're sharp," Ken said, smiling wider. "Just a step slow."
He vanished—reappearing right in Champa's face.
"Not good—"
Thud!
A heel kick smashed across Champa's cheek, Ken bracing on his staff as he drove it in.
"Graaah—!"
Champa howled. Ken didn't let up.
Bam-bam-bam!
Each strike shoved the cat god further back, each counter smothered, his stance growing sloppier. Ken had to admit: Champa was already running on empty. At full strength, Ken wasn't sure he'd lose to him anyway.
Whack!
Another kick sent Champa tumbling, rolling head over heels—
—and Broly, blazing green, dropped from above and head-butted him square in the groin.
"YAAAH—!"
Champa's scream scraped the clouds.
"Damn you!" he roared through tears, palm snapping toward Broly.
Broly shook out the cobwebs and grinned like a dope.
"Hakai!"
Purple-crimson Destruction energy burst from Champa's hand.
No way I'll erase the Grand Priest's bastard son, he thought savagely, but this brat?
"Mm-mm." Ken flicked his staff. Angelic power washed over the beam—twisted—changed.
In an instant, the Destruction blast turned into a drifting cloud of cotton candy.
Champa's eyes nearly popped out.
Broly blinked, tasted the fluff that splatted his face, then stuffed the rest into his mouth. "Sweet."
Then he went right back to pummeling Champa.
Up high, Ken kept running the board—freezing Champa in place with a snap of his staff whenever needed. It still took over half an hour of grind before Champa finally toppled, eyes rolling back as he fainted.
From the very start, when Champa had started mouthing off, Ken had laid out the plan for Broly: if they wanted Broly to grow fast, the quickest road was dying on the doorstep and coming back. Again and again, break and rebuild.
With Ken as a safety net, Broly had nothing to fear.
Staring at the unconscious cat, Broly's grin nearly wrapped behind his ears.
Finally beat a God of Destruction. No wonder Ken didn't let me slug it out with Mosco last time. Even this cat was nasty—and he wasn't going all out.
"Ah-yah-yah…" Vados glided in from afar, alighting beside Champa.
Ken rinsed her staff clean with angelic light and handed it back, bowing slightly. "Thanks. Without this staff, that would've been a much tougher win."
"You're welcome." Vados smiled, then glanced at Champa, hesitating. If I wake him now, won't they just start brawling again?
"The realm's a mess. I'll repair it first," she said, raising her staff.
Starlight spilled from the crystal, knitting cracked ground, smoothing craters, setting the realm back to new.
"I'll help," Ken said, lifting his right hand toward a shattered decorative star.
A ribbon of angelic energy wrapped the broken orb, pulling shards together. When Vados finished the realm, Ken's star still wore a few obvious seams—like it had been glued.
Vados tipped her staff. One sweep, and the cracks vanished; the star shone gold again.
"There." She looked satisfied, then tipped her head at Ken. "Not bad. Your purity isn't high yet, but I have to praise how you use angelic power. Even Merus can't match this finesse. Honestly, your control is on par with a true angel's."
"Careful, I might get cocky," Ken chuckled.
"…And me?" Broly scratched his head hopefully.
Vados decided not to feed that fire, looking instead at the sprawled Champa. She glanced at Ken, unsure.
"You want to wake him, right?" Ken asked.
"Yes," she nodded. "Also… I've heard that when that part breaks, it—does it hurt that much?"
Ken: "…"
"Ah-yah-yah. What a sin," Vados sighed.
"I'll heal him," Ken said, stepping forward.
That surprised her. You're going to heal him?
"Peace over pride," Ken said lightly, bathing Champa in angelic light. "We'll take the step back. No need to hold grudges."
Vados fell silent. You two already took all the advantage—and now you get to sound noble?
It took a full minute before Champa's eyes fluttered open. Ken was a little startled at the cost; healing a God of Destruction drank his reserves. That minute had chewed through nearly forty percent of his power. By comparison, all the Broly heals combined had barely drained ten.
So that's the gulf between them.
He'd healed Champa for a reason. The cat hadn't fought to kill—probably because Vados had said something. Since Champa had held back, Ken would extend the courtesy.
Champa woke to see Ken, him, healing him. He sprang up with a start, skittering back, patting himself down like he expected booby traps.
"Relax. I'm the man who's going to become an angel," Ken smiled. "If I'm going to play dirty, I'd rather save it for Vados."
Vados: "…"
Why am I in this again?
"Hmph! You healed me—so what? I don't owe you anything!" Champa bared his teeth, fists trembling.
"Round two!" Broly flared green, spirit roaring back. Getting thrashed by Mule of Universe 3 and then absorbed by Majin Buu had bruised his baby pride; fighting Champa had finally lit his fire again.
Champa glared at Broly, then shot a wary look at Ken. Silence stretched.
"Boring," he snorted, turning away. "I'm taking a nap. I've got no time for slap-fights with two kids."
Zip—
He streaked off and vanished into the distant pyramid palace.
In his room, Champa curled on his luxurious bed like a ball of cat, shivering once as he settled.
Just you wait, Broly. If Ken isn't glued to your side next time…
Can't bully the Grand Priest's bastard kid. But a little human? We'll see.
Sleep took him. In his dream, someone hammered him with a giant mallet. Every so often, a ghostly wail ripped out of him.
(End of Chapter)
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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