The Frost Demons possessed remarkable vitality, and even bisected as he was, Frieza clung to life. Clutching the gaping wound where his lower body had been severed, he stared up at his opponent in disbelief.
"Is this how it ends? Will Frieza, Emperor of the Universe, die in this forsaken void?"
Karnel casually deflected the weakened supernova that had been drifting toward him, kicking it aside like a wayward ball before approaching the fallen tyrant. In his hand, he held Frieza's severed lower half, blood still dripping from the clean cut.
"Your legs, Frieza," Karnel said with mock concern. "Would you like me to reattach them? With the cockroach-like resilience of your race, you'd probably recover within hours."
Blood continued to spill from Frieza's wound into the vacuum of space, creating a grotesque crimson cloud around him. Despite his agony, the emperor managed a bitter laugh.
"Kill me!" he gasped, his voice carrying a note of hysteria. "How ironic... I, who destroyed the Saiyans to prevent this very fate, will die at the hands of one, just like my ancestors warned."
"Since you're so eager to die," Karnel replied coldly, "I'll grant your wish."
The lower half of Frieza's body disintegrated in Karnel's grip, reduced to scattered particles that drifted away into the endless darkness. Frieza's mad laughter echoed through the void as consciousness began to slip away from him.
"I was so careful... killed every Saiyan on Planet Vegeta... but one escaped my notice..." His eyes rolled back as darkness claimed him.
Karnel caught the unconscious emperor before he could drift away. "You're far too important a character to die so easily," he mused, studying the half-corpse in his hands. "Besides, this performance is barely halfway through."
Using instant transmission, Karnel began searching for a suitable planet. His original plan had been simple execution, but now a more theatrical idea was forming. If Frieza was to die, it should be in a manner that would be remembered across the galaxy.
The first planet he found was barren, nothing but primitive microorganisms. The second had unintelligent creatures that scurried about like insects. It wasn't until the third world that Karnel found what he was looking for: a planet teeming with diverse life forms.
"Now then," he muttered, surveying the landscape, "what would make a suitable replacement for an emperor's legs?"
He spent considerable time examining various creatures, lions, tigers, serpents, even some bizarre six-legged mammals. Nothing seemed quite right. Too mundane, too monstrous, or simply too aesthetically displeasing.
Then, in a vast grassland, he spotted it: a magnificent stallion with an unusual threaded pattern across its hide. The creature was clearly no ordinary horse, its musculature was perfect, its bearing almost regal.
"Perfect," Karnel said with genuine satisfaction. "This will do nicely."
The horse let out a brief whinny before falling silent forever.
"Now comes the artistic part," Karnel chuckled, laying both the unconscious Frieza and the horse's lower body side by side. "I seem to recall some healing magic from the planet Adetra..."
Drawing upon his vast knowledge of cosmic techniques, Karnel began weaving an intricate spell. His hands glowed with ethereal energy as he chanted in an ancient tongue, carefully fusing organic tissue with surgical precision.
When the light faded, the result was seamless, Frieza's torso now connected perfectly to the horse's powerful hindquarters, as if he had been born that way.
"I do have a talent for reconstructive surgery," Karnel admired his handiwork with artistic pride.
Using instant transmission once more, he returned to the battlefield where n°8 had been observing from a safe distance. The artificial being's eyes widened in shock as Karnel unceremoniously dropped the transformed Frieza at his feet.
"What... what is this?" n°8 stammered, staring at the centaur-like figure.
"Your new assignment," Karnel replied, producing seven black star Dragon Balls that pulsed with synchronized energy. "Tell him you saved him from that 'damned Saiyan.' Don't let anything slip."
Without another word, Karnel vanished, leaving n°8 to contemplate the bizarre task ahead of him.
Some time later, Frieza's eyes fluttered open to find a familiar face looking down at him with paternal concern.
"Father?" Frieza's voice was weak, confused. "Did you... did you save me from that Saiyan?"
King Cold's expression was carefully neutral as he helped his son sit up. "You're alive, my son. That's what matters."
Frieza's mind slowly cleared, and he remembered the battle, the destructo disk, the searing pain of being severed in half. Instinctively, he looked down at his body, and froze.
Where his legs should have been, four powerful hooves now supported him. The lower body of a horse had somehow been grafted seamlessly to his torso, the fur pattern creating an almost artistic contrast with his bio-armor.
"Father... my legs..." Frieza's voice was barely a whisper, horror and confusion warring in his expression. "What happened to me?"
The Emperor of the Universe had been reborn, but as something entirely new, and the galaxy would never be the same.