The Namekian speaks up, the fear visible on his face, similar to that of his Earthling partners. The two shorter and seemingly more scared combatants shake like leaves in the wind.
"I'm only going to say this once. Leave this planet, this is your first and last chance to leave here alive."
As soon as he speaks, both Vegeta's and Escallion's eyes go wide in recognition. However, it is the Prince who speaks up first.
"That voice! So you are the one who defeated Raditz a year ago." Vegeta's smirk deepens, a chilling reminder that he finds this entire situation utterly hilarious.
"Raditz was a weakling who let his guard down," Vegeta scoffed, stepping forward as his cape rustled in the dry Earth breeze. "To think a backwoods Namekian and a defective lower-class Saiyan managed to put him in the dirt. You really thought that made you special?"
Beside him, Escallion didn't join in on the Prince's grandstanding. His eyes remained locked on Piccolo, calculating. His scouter blinked furiously, cycling through the readings of the three fighters standing in front of them.
1,220... 1,480... 3,500...
Vegeta saw numbers to laugh at. Escallion realized something troubling.
'Their power levels aren't static,' Escallion thought, his left hand instinctively tweaking the gain on his scouter to filter out ambient noise.
'They're keeping their power suppressed. Raditz mentioned it, but experiencing it firsthand is different. If they can control their output at will, those numbers mean nothing.'
"Escallion," Vegeta barked, not bothering to turn his head. "Take the big green one. Nappa can play with the little bugs. I want to see how much trouble this Namekian can really give us before I break him."
Nappa grinned, cracking his massive knuckles with a sound like snapping twigs. Krillin and Gohan flinched, stepping back into a defensive stance, their eyes darting nervously between the giant behemoth and the quiet, lean Saiyan standing at the Prince's flank.
Escallion slowly unclasped his scouter, holding it in his palm for a fraction of a second before tossing it to the side. He didn't rush in screaming like Nappa. He calmly descended. His boots made a clack as he landed.
"You offered us a choice to leave," Escallion said, his voice flat, completely cutting through the charged tension. Piccolo's eyes narrowed, his attention snapping away from Vegeta to lock onto this quieter intruder.
"I don't make a habit of wasting breath," Piccolo growled, a bead of cold sweat tracing down his green cheek despite his immovable stance. "You take the deal, or you die here."
He raised a single finger, not as a threat, but to signal Nappa to hold back for a fraction of a second. Nappa grunted in annoyance, but a sharp glance from Vegeta kept the brute grounded.
Escallion looked past Piccolo, his sharp, dark eyes falling directly on the trembling half-breed boy.
Escallion calculated in a heartbeat.
'The bald human has tactical awareness, but he is weak, and the halfing is also pathetic. The Namekian is the linchpin.'
"Here is my counter-offer," Escallion said, lowering his hand to his side. His posture was deceptively relaxed, but his weight was perfectly balanced, ready to explode in any direction. "Tell us where the Saiyan Kakarot is. Give us the dragon relics your scout mentioned... and I will ensure no loss of life."
Vegeta raises his eyebrow, "Engaging in bargains with weaklings?"
"I'm not bargaining, My Prince," Escallion said softly, never breaking eye contact with Piccolo. "Just testing the waters."
"No deals," Piccolo hissed, spreading his stance wider and raising his guards. "Gohan, Krillin-get ready!"
"Too late," Escallion murmured.
Before the sound of Piccolo's voice even faded, Escallion vanished.
Crack!
Escallion reappeared directly in Piccolo's blind spot, delivering a brutal, precise elbow strike straight into the Namekian's ribs. The sheer force sent Piccolo skidding backward across the dirt, leaving two deep trenches in the earth before he managed to catch himself.
"Piccolo!" Krillin yelled, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't even seen the move.
"Focus on your own opponent, little man!" Nappa bellowed, suddenly lunging forward with a boisterous laugh, diving straight at Krillin and forcing the Earthling to scatter.
As dust swirled around the battlefield, Escallion didn't pursue Piccolo immediately. He stood right where Piccolo had just been standing, lightly dusting off his sleeve.
"Your form is defensive," Escallion noted, watching Piccolo wipe a line of purple blood from the corner of his mouth. "You're expecting Kakarot to save you. Which means his power level is significantly higher than yours... or you're buying time for an ambush."
Escallion tapped his scouter twice, muting the audio feedback. "Either way, you're fighting a war of attrition you cannot win."
Piccolo bared his teeth, dropping his heavy turban and shoulder pads to the cracked ground with a deafening thud that shook the soil. "You talk too much for a Saiyan," Piccolo growled, his power level suddenly surging upward.
"Hmph." Escallion, despite not being able to feel ki, felt something shift in the air, and whatever it was got his blood pumping.
Surging forward, Piccolo launched a punch right at Escallion's head.
Escallion didn't try to catch it. He ducked under the broad, green arm, the force of Piccolo's strike whistling right over his head.
Using the Namekian's momentum against him, Escallion drove a sharp, rising knee straight into Piccolo's exposed sternum.
THUD!
Piccolo gasped, air leaving his lungs in a sudden spray of purple blood. But before he could recoil, Escallion's hands flicked out like striking serpents, grabbing Piccolo by the wrist and shoulder. Escallion spun on his heel, using a low center of gravity to throw the alien warrior directly toward the edge of the canyon wall.
CRASH!
"I thought you would give me more a figh-" Escallion is interrupted by a ki blast that he barely dodges.
The red-hot energy beam scorched the side of Escallion's jaw, singeing a few strands of his dark hair and searing through the air with a deafening crack that shattered the rock wall behind him.
He could see the sheer desperation radiating off the bald Earthling.
Krillin stood with his smoking hands thrust forward, his body shaking violently as he stood beside the terrified Gohan. Sweat poured down Krillin's face, but his eyes burned with a reckless defiance.
"I-I won't let you kill him!" Krillin screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of terror. "Piccolo! Get up!"
Escallion slowly turned to face him, dusting off his shoulder guard with a calm, deliberate brush of his gauntlet. His dark eyes locked onto Krillin.
"A desperation attack," Escallion said flatly, his voice carrying easily over the wind howling through the canyon.
"Hey! Back off!" Nappa barked, stomping forward as the ground trembled under his massive boots. He looked thoroughly annoyed that the small fry was interfering. "I was supposed to squish that one! Don't go stealing my warm-up, Escallion!"
"He's all yours, Nappa," Escallion replied smoothly, never breaking eye contact with the crater where Piccolo was already dragging himself out of the settling dust. "Watch out for sudden surges. These Earthlings don't hold a constant output; they spike when desperate."
"Hmph! As if I need to worry about a bunch of insects!" Nappa sneered, turning his broad, terrifying frame toward Krillin and cracking his knuckles.
Meanwhile, in the shattered rock, Piccolo spat a mouthful of purple blood onto the dirt. His teeth were gritted, but as he locked eyes with Escallion, a dark, dangerous grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You think you have us figured out, don't you?" Piccolo growled, his voice rasping from his bruised chest. The Namekian surged forward, striking at him with a right-handed jab aimed straight for his throat.
Escallion ducked, expecting the follow-up left hook. But Piccolo didn't throw it. Instead, the Namekian's extended right arm suddenly stretched, his elbow elongating like a whipping cable to wrap around Escallion's waist in a tight, crushing coil!
"What the-" Escallion's mind registered instantly, his breath hitching as the green arm squeezed against his battle armor with terrifying force.
Piccolo gasped, staring in sheer shock at the severed wrist still wrapped around Escallion's armor. Purple blood spurted into the air as the Namekian recoiled, clutching his bleeding stump.
The attack had been so fast, so surgical, that even the wind hadn't registered the blade of Ki Escallion had swept through the limb.
Escallion calmly unwrapped the lifeless hand from his waist, tossing it to the ground like a piece of discarded trash. He flicked his wrist, extinguishing the razor-thin blade of condensed Ki hovering around his fingers. He hadn't used brute force; he had used a localized, ultra-sharp energy edge, a high-level execution technique meant for armored targets.
"You don't seem to realize how outclassed you are, Namek," Escallion said, his voice terrifyingly calm, completely devoid of the panting or panic Piccolo had expected.
Piccolo gritted his teeth, sweat mingling with the purple blood running down his arm. "You... bastard..."
"Cheap trick," Escallion continued, taking a slow, measured step forward. His posture remained perfectly balanced, his eyes deadened with cold military precision. Usually he takes no pleasure from torturing his opponents, but his interest is piqued. "A trick only works once. Now you have one less limb. I wonder what else you can do?"
"Stay back, Gohan!" Piccolo snarled through his teeth. He dropped his shoulder, his body trembling violently as the muscles around his severed arm began to bulge and convulse. With a wet, gut-wrenching sound, a brand new arm burst forth from the stump, glistening with fresh purple fluid.
Piccolo panted heavily, his chest heaving, his energy noticeably drained from the rapid regeneration.
Escallion didn't look surprised. He simply tilted his head, watching the process with interest.
Piccolo panted heavily, clutching his newly regenerated arm. A white liquid dripped from his elbow where the fresh skin was still settling, his chest heaving as the massive energy drain took its toll.
"You talk too much," Piccolo growled, forcing himself back into a fighting stance.
Escallion didn't rush. He closed the distance with a slow, agonizing stride, the cold curiosity in his dark eyes far more terrifying than Nappa's wild bloodlust. He raised his hand again, condensing a tiny, needle-thin spike of golden Ki at the tip of his index finger.
"Your species possesses elastic cellular structure, rapid tissue regeneration, and weighted training methods," Escallion murmured, his voice sounding like an examiner inspecting a specimen. "Archives had limited data on Namekians. I want to see your limits. If I take off the other arm... how much can you regenerate until you die?"
"Leave him alone!"
A sudden, sharp scream shattered the tension.
Escallion's eyes flicked to the side just in time to see the small hybrid boy, Gohan. The child's body was shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down his dust-caked cheeks, but his eyes had snapped from terrified to pure, unadulterated fury.
1,000... 1,800... 2,500...
Even without a scouter, Escallion felt it. The air around the child snapped and pop-cracked with a sudden, violent surge of raw, unrefined power. The sheer spike in power was unnatural, completely defying the baseline numbers Escallion had calculated earlier.
The hybrid, Escallion realized, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his stance. His emotional output isn't a linear spike. It's an exponential explosion.
"I won't let you hurt Piccolo!" Gohan roared, headbutting the air as he charged forward like a runaway missile, a blinding aura of white energy bursting around his tiny frame.
The explosive surge of Ki from the child flared violently, but before Escallion even needed to pivot, Nappa moved.
With a boisterous, echoing laugh that cut through the canyon, the giant Saiyan stepped into Gohan's path, effortlessly swatting the boy out of the air like a nuisance fly. Gohan crashed hard into the dirt, rolling several times before coming to a painful halt near Krillin, who was already battered, bruised, and coughing up spit on his knees.
"Nice try, half-breed!" Nappa roared, towering over the two Earthlings. He cracked his thick neck, stretching his massive shoulders with a deep sigh of utter disappointment. "Man, this is boring. I thought you Earth dwellers had some fight in 'em after what happened to Raditz! You two are barely worth the energy it takes to crush you."
Nappa reached to his hip, unclipping a small, metallic container filled with six glowing, translucent vials.
"Nappa," Vegeta called out from the ridge, his voice laced with bored disdain. "Don't tell me you're resorting to field seeds already."
"Aw, c'mon, Prince!" Nappa whined, grinning down at Krillin and Gohan. "Escallion gets to dissect the Namekian, and I'm sitting here playing babysitter to a pebble and a brat! Let's see if these little monsters can at least force 'em to show us some real power."
Nappa popped open a vial, spilling a thick, greenish fluid onto the soil. He poured a small pouch of dark seeds into the liquid and stepped back.
The ground began to rumble. The earth split open, roots squirming like grotesque, pale worms before six small, clawed hands burst through the dirt. With sickening, wet shrieks, six hunchbacked, green creatures crawled into the sunlight, their exposed brains pulsating wildly beneath translucent skulls.
"Alright, little green freaks!" Nappa cackled, pointing a thick finger at Krillin, Gohan, and the exhausted Piccolo. "Tear 'em apart!"
The six Saibamen hissed in unison, their red eyes glowing with feral hunger as they crouched, ready to leap onto the two when suddenly a blast hit one of them.
Through the drifting smoke, three figures descended, landing in front of Krillin and the battered Piccolo.
Tien stood at the front, his third eye gleaming with quiet, furious focus, flanked by Chiaotzu and Yamcha. Yamcha wiped a speck of dust off his shoulder, a confident smirk plastered on his face despite the overwhelming pressure hanging over the valley.
"Hope we aren't too late," Yamcha said, adjusting his stance.
"Yamcha! Tien!" Krillin gasped, relief crashing over him so hard he nearly collapsed. "You guys... you made it!"
"Barely," Tien growled, his gaze immediately scanning the battlefield. He bypassed the giant behemoth Nappa, bypassed the silent Prince on the ridge, and locked onto Escallion, whose boots were still slick with Piccolo's purple blood. "These guys are stronger than that Raditz guy, huh?"
"Don't worry about me," Piccolo spat, wiping his mouth with his fresh sleeve. "Watch out for that one. He's not like the big brute... he's fast and sharp."
Across the clearing, Escallion didn't react with anger or surprise. He simply stepped back, his dark eyes calmly scanning the three newcomers.
Without a scouter, he couldn't read exact numbers, but he felt the shift in momentum. Three more combatants. Power levels roughly matching the bald one, but their stances were refined.
'Trained fighters?'
"More flies for the web," Nappa cackled, rubbing his hands together in absolute glee. "Three more Earthlings, this day keeps getting better!"
"Don't get careless, Nappa," Escallion said quietly, his voice cutting through Nappa's roaring laughter like a blade. Escallion raised two fingers, pointing toward Tien and Yamcha. "They suppressed their presence until the moment of impact. They're disciplined. If you charge in blindly, you'll open us up to an ambush."
"You think you're hot stuff?" Yamcha smirks. "Tien," Yamcha muttered under his breath, taking a slow step toward the remaining Saibamen. "Leave the small ones to me. I'll take 'em all on myself to warm up."
Don't be a fool, Yamcha!" Tien warned. "They're dangerous!"
Escallion subtly shifted his weight, his face displaying his amusement.
"Go ahead, Earthling," Escallion murmured, a faint, dangerous glint in his eye as the remaining five Saibamen crouched to spring. "Show us what you're willing to die for."
Yamcha stepped forward, dropping into his Wolf Fang Fist stance. Driven by pride and the desire to spare his friends any more pain, he took on the remaining Saibaman.
Yamcha completely outmatched the creature. He battered it with rapid strikes, sent it flying with a spirit burst, and left it lying broken in a shallow crater.
"That's one," Yamcha called out over his shoulder, a cocky smile returning to his face. "These guys aren't so tough."
"Yamcha, get away from it!" Krillin yelled, his stomach dropping.
Before Yamcha could react, the battered Saibaman shot up, latched its arms and legs tightly around Yamcha's chest, and detonated.
BOOM!
A blinding explosion rocked the valley, throwing up a dense curtain of dust and debris. When the smoke cleared, Yamcha lay lifeless in a scorched pit, his body completely still.
"YAMCHA!" Krillin's horrified scream echoed across the barren canyon.
Nappa burst into a roaring, gut-busting laugh. "Hahahaha! Look at that! The idiot thought he won! That's what you get for dropping your guard around a Saibaman!"
Tien's face turned pale, his fists shaking violently with a mixture of grief and unbridled rage. Chiaotzu clung to his side, trembling in fear.
While Nappa laughed, Escallion stood completely still, staring at Yamcha's corpse with a cold, analytical detachment.
Escallion turned his head slightly toward Piccolo, whose teeth were gritted in absolute fury.
"A foolish death," Escallion said flatly, his voice cutting through Krillin's desperate sobbing.
"You cold-blooded monster!" Krillin roared, tears streaming down his face as his aura exploded into a frantic, chaotic red-orange haze. He threw his hands back, channeling every ounce of his grief and rage into a single, massive attack. "SCATTERING BULLET!"
A massive sphere of light shot straight into the sky, splitting into several tracking beams that rained down toward Escallion, Nappa, and the remaining Saibamen.
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A/N: I feel like an ex returning to his girlfriend after a messy breakup. I know I have left this project to the dogs, but the passion is simply not there anymore. If I get a decent amount of views on this chapter, I may consider continuing. Also, yes, Escallion could have killed Piccolo already, but will he? The answer is clear.