Within the Frost Demon Clan, aside from the long-standing warning to beware golden-haired Super Saiyans, there were actually two other ironclad precepts.
The second precept:
Never provoke Majin Buu.
The third precept:
Under absolutely no circumstances—ever—provoke a God of Destruction!!!!!
Compared to the first two, it was the third precept that inspired true terror.
It concerned the highest divine existence in the universe, the most powerful beings of all. Anyone who offended a God of Destruction would face only one outcome—
death.
No
Perhaps not even death.
According to clan legend, Gods of Destruction wielded a supreme force known as "Destruction." Once touched by that power, a being would be erased completely—vanishing from existence itself.
Coola had once harbored doubts about this precept.
But after his younger brother, Frieza, was appointed as a proxy by a God of Destruction, Frieza had personally reiterated this warning to him.
That alone proved it.
Everything in the third precept was true.
And the man standing before him now—
was a candidate God of Destruction.
No wonder… no wonder his attire looked so strange.
It was the vestments of a God of Destruction.
"So your Frost Demon Clan truly does know of the Gods of Destruction," Gran said, looking at Coola.
He himself was familiar with their precepts, which was precisely why he had deliberately provoked Coola earlier.
"Reporting to the Candidate God of Destruction, our Frost Demon Clan does indeed possess some knowledge regarding Lord Beerus and his kind," Coola replied, his voice trembling slightly.
Though Gran was not yet a true God of Destruction, Coola dared not underestimate him in the slightest.
To become Lord Beerus's disciple already proved one thing—
Either this man's talent was terrifying,
or his strength was.
Gran nodded and asked no further questions. He simply pointed toward the upper floors of the building.
"Aren't you going to invite me up for a seat?"
"My apologies for the discourtesy. Please, this way, Candidate God of Destruction," Coola said quickly.
Seeing that Gran showed no hostility, Coola finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He led Gran into the building, leaving only Dore and Neiz behind.
"H-He… who exactly is he? Why is Lord Coola treating him with such respect?" Salza asked as he clutched his stomach and staggered forward.
"Lord Coola said he's a Candidate God of Destruction… That should mean he's a god," Neiz muttered, his amphibian-like face pale with fear.
He had nearly attacked Gran earlier.
If he had done so, he would already be dead.
"A god?!"
Salza swallowed hard.
No wonder Lord Coola had kicked him away earlier—it had been to stop him from offending a deity.
At that moment, the distant sounds of battle thundered once more.
"Salza, Masku just sent out a distress call. Should we go rescue him?" Dore, his green skin glistening, asked anxiously.
Although Salza's battle power was lower than Dore's, he was the sharpest mind among the three, which was why he served as captain of the Mecha Squad.
"No," Salza said, frowning deeply.
"This god appears, and Masku is immediately attacked by the Galactic Patrol. That timing is far too suspicious."
Neiz grew anxious. "But what about Masku? Our planet sales all rely on him!"
Dore also hesitated. Almost all of the Coola Force's business operations were handled by Masku—losing him would be a severe blow.
"Enough!" Salza barked.
"This god's origins are unknown. His strength is unknown. Even his appearance here is unnatural."
"I suspect the Galactic Patrol is connected to him."
"And more importantly—have you forgotten something?"
Salza's expression darkened further.
"This planet is one of the Coola Force's main strongholds. If they didn't have backing, how would they dare come here?!"
Dore and Neiz's eyes widened.
Salza was absolutely right.
"If Masku dies, so be it. We can always prop up another puppet," Salza said grimly.
Looking up toward the top floor of the building, he suppressed his fear and added,
"No matter what, we cannot offend that god."
At the same time
At the top of the tallest building on Bel Planet, Gran was escorted into a quiet conference room.
He took the main seat and glanced around. It was clearly a high-end commercial meeting room.
"Quite an impressive conference room," Gran said with a light chuckle as he leaned back.
"Looks like you're running a pretty big business, Coola."
Coola stood beside him, cold sweat pouring down his back.
Was this lord here to investigate his planet-selling operations?
"Why are you so nervous?" Gran said casually.
He stood up, walked over, and patted Coola on the shoulder.
"I don't have time to care about your shady dealings."
Coola finally relaxed—but confusion soon followed.
"Then… may I ask why Your Excellency has come?"
"I'm not here to destroy you, am I?" Gran replied indifferently.
"Why ask so many questions?"
Those words sent another chill down Coola's spine.
Outside, the shockwaves from the distant battle grew increasingly violent.
Gran stood silently by the transparent glass wall, watching.
Coola, however, was growing anxious. Every one of his planetary trade operations was based here—if the destruction continued, the losses would be catastrophic.
"Candidate God of Destruction, I—"
Coola was about to suggest going out.
Without turning around, Gran said calmly,
"I'd advise you not to go."
"Why?"
Coola's eyes widened.
Were those Galactic Patrol members brought by this man?
"There's a very powerful Saiyan over there," Gran said.
"If you go, you'll only die."
Gran turned back toward him.
In the anime, Frieza was known as the most talented among the Frost Demon Clan. But in truth, Coola's talent was no less frightening.
Coola possessed four transformation stages, one more than Frieza. At his peak, his battle power reached 470 million—a level that would make him an ultimate final boss in the early Dragon Ball storyline.
And just like Frieza could train into Golden Frieza, Coola could do the same.
(P.S. Referenced from fan works.)
"…What?"
Coola's heart skipped a beat.
A powerful Saiyan?
Had a Super Saiyan finally emerged?
"I've warned you," Gran said flatly.
"If you still insist on going, then prepare yourself for death."
Gran was not exaggerating.
After two years of his training, Broly (child) had reached a base battle power of 20 million.
Twenty million could not defeat 470 million—but if Broly lost control…
That would be the end.
No one in the Frost Demon Clan could stop an enraged Broly.
Coola wrestled internally after hearing the god's warning.
Believe him—or not?
Three seconds passed.
Clenching his teeth, Coola said,
"Candidate God of Destruction… I still wish to go and see what's happening."
END OF CHAPTER
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