After so many years, Frieza had returned.
The massive warship descended from the heavens like a falling moon, its sheer mass distorting the air beneath it. Wind pressure compressed into invisible blades that sliced through loose rock formations like butter, carving vertical and horizontal grooves across the barren ground—hideous scars that crisscrossed the landscape in chaotic patterns. Jagged boulders crumbled to dust as overwhelming force pulverized them. Sand erupted skyward in churning clouds, forming a veil that blotted out the sun itself.
Eight massive metal claws extended from the ship's underbelly, slowly descending until they scraped against the earth with earsplitting shrieks. The reinforced steel appendages pierced deep into the ground with explosive force, sending up billowing clouds of smoke mixed with white water vapor from superheated soil.
BOOM—
The warship settled with ground-shaking finality, like some colossal beast claiming its territory.
"That's the ship! It's exactly like before!"
"He's here... Frieza!"
"There are also numerous soldiers with him." Krillin's voice carried obvious uncertainty despite his attempt at confidence. "Leave the small fry to us—Gohan, Piccolo, you focus on Frieza himself."
"And me! Don't forget about me and Broly!" The eager voice belonged to Rukon who'd formed an inseparable bond with the legendary Super Saiyan over recent years.
After returning from the Tournament in Universe 6, Broly's strength had increased exponentially. Among Earth's top-tier powerhouses, he unquestionably ranked near the pinnacle. Rukon stood ready beside him.
Zangya and Android 18 positioned themselves nearby, both prepared for combat with cold determination.
"Actually, I need to ask something," Yamcha interjected, glancing around with growing concern. "Where are Raditz, Goku and Vegeta? They agreed to be ready after three months—they should be here by now."
"Are they still training somewhere? Did they actually forget about this?!"
"Regardless of their status, Frieza has arrived right now—that's what matters most." Piccolo's calm analysis cut through the rising panic, his logical mind serving as everyone's anchor. "We fight first, then worry about the rest."
He led the assembled warriors toward the landed warship.
Simultaneously, the vessel's main hatch unsealed with a hydraulic hiss. Space soldiers poured out like a tidal wave—thousands of warriors wearing advanced combat armor, some wielding energy weapons while others relied on scouter-enhanced hand-to-hand combat capabilities. They arranged themselves in military formation, an army that seemed to darken the sky itself with their sheer numbers.
At the formation's center, elevated on a floating hover-chair, sat Frieza himself.
His eyes gleamed cold crimson, the sharp horns protruding from his skull reflecting light with cruel promise. Though his first form appeared physically small—almost delicate—the suffocating aura radiating from his presence made it impossible to look away. Every survival instinct screamed danger.
"Oh my, you already knew I was coming?" Frieza's tone dripped with mocking amusement. "That's right, you have that technique for detecting each other's energy..." His expression suddenly shifted, amusement curdling into irritation. "Wait. Where is Raditz?! Where are Kakarot and Vegeta?!"
"Hmph. They don't need to waste effort on the likes of you," Piccolo sneered back.
"A Namekian dares such arrogance?" Frieza's smile turned predatory. "I have never forgotten that humiliation you inflicted upon me."
"Neither have I."
"Heh. You won't be smiling much longer." Frieza's expression became colder than Piccolo's ever could—the smile of something inhuman wearing a humanoid mask.
His subordinates practically vibrated with eagerness to engage. From their perspective, wouldn't thousands of elite warriors make short work of this handful of defenders? Many were newcomers recruited by Sorbet and Tagoma, or remnants salvaged from across the cosmos—warriors who'd never faced the Z-Fighters personally. They assumed that serving under King Frieza automatically made them superior to inhabitants of remote backwater planets.
"Proceed." Frieza waved one hand dismissively, though his eyes gleamed with murderous anticipation.
That single command ignited the flames of war.
Thousands of soldiers surged forward like a plague of locusts, sweeping across the battlefield in a living tsunami of aggression.
"Here they come!" Krillin and the others launched themselves skyward, energy spheres condensing in their palms as they released devastating barrages into the advancing horde. They wove through the enemy formation like dancers, each movement precisely calculated—instantly eliminating large swaths of opponents and blasting them into the cratered ground below.
Multicolored energy streaks painted the sky. Scouters exploded continuously in rapid-fire detonations, their overloaded circuits unable to process the defenders' true power. Flames splashed across the battlefield in a display that somehow managed to be both grand and pathetically one-sided.
Nearly every master from Universe 7 had concentrated here on this small planet. These seemingly ordinary inhabitants of Earth possessed strength far exceeding what could be found across most of the space! Frieza's carefully trained soldiers proved completely vulnerable, falling apart like rain—bodies tumbling from the sky in broken cascades.
Screams and explosions of torn flesh filled the air with horrific symphony. The entire world reverberated with sounds of slaughter.
"Hohohoho! What a beautiful massacre!" Frieza laughed, though his voice carried tones of glacial fury beneath the amusement. "I didn't expect Earth's defenders to have grown so powerful."
He'd genuinely believed Krillin and his companions would fall before the fighters he'd meticulously trained. Yet Krillin faced those soldiers and achieved near-instantaneous victories with casual ease. Even Yamcha and Chiaotzu—warriors he'd dismissed as completely irrelevant—displayed power far beyond his projections.
Frieza smiled on the surface while volcanic rage churned beneath that civilized veneer.
More concerning still, Son Gohan, Piccolo, and that burly Saiyan figure staring at him with quiet intensity... Broly's presence made Frieza distinctly uncomfortable in ways he refused to consciously acknowledge.
In that case, I suppose I must demonstrate my true strength.
Frieza's aura exploded outward without warning, instantly vaporizing the hover-chair beneath him. The majestic energy fluctuation affected the entire atmosphere—the planet itself trembled from the sheer magnitude of power being unleashed. Earth had grown considerably more resilient through countless battles and subsequent technological reinforcement, but even its enhanced structure groaned under the pressure of Frieza's unleashed might.
He alighted gracefully on a large boulder, feet positioned in a combat stance, his tail swishing behind him with predatory anticipation. That elegant smile never wavered.
In the next instant, his aura surged skyward—sprinting toward limits that seemed endless, as though he intended to spread his presence across the entire universe in that single moment!
Overwhelming pressure descended from above like the hand of an angry god. Every warrior froze, expressions shifting from confidence to shock as they felt what was happening.
This is Frieza's transformation—he's ascending to his perfect form!
The metamorphosis completed before anyone could properly react. Behind curtains of gorgeous light, fierce eyes emerged like sharpened arrows. The perfect figure that stepped forward moved with each footfall generating thunder, gusts of wind announcing his presence with biblical fury.
"This... this is Frieza's complete form! It's terrifying—he feels even stronger than before!"
"Don't panic," Piccolo commanded, though sweat beaded on his forehead. "Feel it carefully—assess the actual power level. We should still be able to handle him."
They possessed warriors at Super Saiyan 3 level, multiple Super Saiyans, and various fusion combinations available. Combining all these powers, Frieza should still prove manageable as an opponent.
Yet Frieza's smile only widened, contempt and arrogance radiating from every pore.
"You don't seem frightened of me at all. How delightful!" His voice carried cruel amusement. "Allow me to show you a higher dimension of power entirely—so you may die with full understanding of your insignificance. HAHAHAHAHA!"
Frieza's maniacal laughter echoed across the battlefield as he stretched his limbs once more, preparing for another evolution!
The impossible was happening—Frieza possessed a form beyond his perfect state!
Golden light began radiating from his body, intensifying with each passing microsecond.
"ATTACK NOW!" Gohan shouted desperately, sensing the incomprehensible expansion of Frieza's ki. It was surpassing everyone present at terrifying speed, rocketing toward incalculable levels. The dazzling golden radiance diffused across the sky—fierce as the nuclear heart of a sun, hot as flowing magma threatening to consume everything.
Piccolo fired first—his Special Beam Cannon piercing through the air with drilling rotation. Gohan released his Kamehameha almost simultaneously, the azure beam blazing with everything he could muster. Every other warrior followed suit, unleashing their signature techniques in desperate synchronization. Countless energy beams and explosive spheres converged on Frieza's position, each fighter hoping to interrupt the transformation before it reached completion.
BOOM BOOM BOOM! CRACK! BANG BANG BANG!
Fierce explosions erupted in cascading sequence, overwhelming the sky itself! Though every attack targeted the same focal point and had been compressed for maximum penetration, the collective release still caused Earth to vibrate dangerously, creating resonance between heaven and earth that threatened tectonic stability.
"Did we... did we stop it?!"
"No..." Sweat dripped down Gohan's face despite his Mystic power fully activated. His voice carried horrified certainty. "His ki... it's still growing stronger!!!"