Ken watched calmly, offering no comment. He had plenty of faith in Broly.
For a five-year-old Legendary Super Saiyan, Broly's growth was outrageous. As Vados had put it, if you mapped his power to the "angelic-force purity" scale, he sat around 20—roughly on par with Ultra Instinct Sign. Beating Toppo shouldn't be a problem.
Good thing Belmod didn't bring Jiren.
Against Jiren, Broly would probably still come up short—for now. Ken remembered all the chatter he'd seen in manga and anime circles: "Jiren surpassed Belmod!" People skim too fast. Who said it? Toppo. And what Toppo said was Jiren's energy surpassed Belmod's. Has Toppo truly seen Belmod's full power? Doubtful.
When gods actually fight, it's different. Even manga-era silver-haired Mastered Ultra Instinct Goku couldn't beat Beerus. As Beerus put it: gods have their own way of fighting.
It's like when Vegeta first internalized Super Saiyan Blue and immediately tried Beerus—only to turn into a tragic meme.
Gods of Destruction are monsters—even the "weakest," Mosco. Three months ago, Ken and Broly barely toppled Champa together—mainly because Champa didn't go for the kill. Ken had counted on that, using the bout to teach Broly (and himself) just how terrifying a God of Destruction really is.
After that fight, Ken told Broly: "We've got a long road before you're the strongest God of Destruction."
They'd trained hard for three months and grown a lot—but compared to a true God of Destruction, they still had distance to cover. Honestly, even fighting Jiren right now would be rough for Broly.
Ken glanced up at the Grand Priest—hands behind his back, floating high, expression unreadable—as he looked down at Broly and Majin Buu. The moment Ken looked, the Grand Priest's eyes met his. Ken kept his face neutral, heart skipping.
He… noticed that? I've got more work to do.
"Three minutes remaining," the Grand Priest announced.
"Time flew," Whis murmured.
Frieza stood nearby, scowling. Everyone else had left—why was Whis still watching? Whis was nosy. Frieza wanted out.
"Thinking of leaving, Frieza?" Whis asked lightly.
"Hmph. There's no point staying. But if you want to, I won't object."
"Then wait for the end; it's just three minutes," Whis smiled.
Frieza fell silent. If only he hadn't tried to act tough…
On the stage, Broly and Majin Buu both turned to Hit. Hit watched them back, wary. The pink fat one—manageable. The green-haired kid? Not so easy.
"Traitor," Buu muttered.
"Maybe forgive him?" Broly scratched his head. "He makes me want to laugh."
Buu's eyes dropped, and he suddenly started snickering too.
Hit: …What are they laughing at?
"Bird-head," Buu said, pointing at Hit's skull, grinning wider.
Hit looked even more lost. What did his head have to do with a bird?
"Just concede," Broly told him. "Buu and I still have a promise to settle."
"Yeah, head on down," Buu waved him off. "With a head like that, even if I turned you into chocolate I wouldn't eat you."
Hit was now officially baffled. These two—one literally five years old, the other with a five-year-old's brain.
He exhaled. "Fine, I'll indulge you. I concede." He walked to the edge, paused, and asked, "After the match… tell me what my head has to do with a bird?"
Buu nodded vigorously.
"You really wanna know?" Broly suddenly looked embarrassed.
Hit hesitated. If I didn't want to know, why would I ask? He hopped off.
A flicker—Hit reappeared in the stands, eliminated. Champa didn't blame him. From the exchanges alone, he understood: Broly was out of Hit's league.
Only two remained on the ring: Broly and Majin Buu.
"Kid, I like you. Want to be my servant?" Buu chuckled.
"Ken said everyone I've lost to, I have to beat with my own hands," Broly answered.
"Didn't learn your lesson?" Buu snorted.
"This time you're not absorbing me." Green light burst off Broly as he charged. Buu tried to become a net again—absorb and done. He knew he couldn't win straight up.
Broly blurred behind him, clamped a palm over the back of Buu's head, and spiked him into the tiles. The whole ring shuddered; cracks spidered out from the impact.
Merus winced. We're losing. As a trainee angel, he could read the gap at a glance. In half a year, the kid had become overwhelming. If only Buu didn't sleep so much…
For the next minute, Broly literally ground Buu's face along the ring. Six months ago, Broly barely edged Buu. Now he toyed with him.
With a clang, the center pillar sank flush with the arena floor.
"Time!" the Grand Priest declared, hovering over the middle.
Broly let go, then sheepishly kneaded Buu's flattened head back into a sphere. "You okay? I went a little hard."
Buu bared his teeth, then—whoosh—his arms netted outward, trying to smother Broly.
Broly hopped clear. "Same trick won't work twice."
White steam jetted from Buu's vents—he was about to lunge again—
"Time's up. Match over," the Grand Priest said, glancing at Merus.
Merus jolted, rushed in, and rapped Buu on the head with his staff. A lump bloomed; Buu hissed and backed off.
"I hereby appoint Broly as the new trainee God of Destruction of Universe Eighteen!" the Grand Priest proclaimed.
Broly dropped to one knee—one knee this time.
The Grand Priest paused, thinking involuntarily of the earlier double-knee kowtows. At first he'd found them endearing—until Ken muttered, "You paying respects at a grave?" Now every extra bow felt… funereal.
"All right, that's enough," he waved Broly up.
"Ken said you're the mightiest god in all the universes. I'll probably never surpass you, so I wanted to give you a few more bows," Broly said—and promptly added several more.
The Grand Priest: …
How was he supposed to reply to that? Did Ken really say it? Either way—promising child. He glanced at Merus. Somehow, Ken felt more like a son than his own did. Shame the kid was human.
He let the bows stand. New trainee God of Destruction paying extra respects—could be worse.
"Ken," the Grand Priest turned.
Ken flew over and bowed.
"You raised Broly. I appoint you the trainee angel of Universe Eighteen," the Grand Priest said, approval in his eyes.
"Trainee angel… of Eighteen?" Ken blinked.
"Any issue?"
"No—what do you need me to do? And… you're not making me stay on that planet, are you?" He pointed at the lone white world, grimacing.
"You'll stay," the Grand Priest nodded. "It's ideal for refining your angelic power. Train there until you transform into a true angel."
"But there's nothing on it. Broly and I will starve," Ken protested.
"You've got Super Dragon Balls. Wish for inexhaustible provisions," the Grand Priest smiled, glancing at the seven golden worlds glinting in the void. "Besides, once you become a true angel, you won't need food; you'll be immortal and self-sustaining."
"Can the Super Dragon just make me an angel now?" Ken asked.
A beat. "No," the Grand Priest said, shaking his head. "The 'grant any wish' bit is relative. Think of Earth's dragon—near-omnipotent to ordinary humans; pretty limited to the strong. The Super Dragon is similar. From where you'll stand, some wishes are beyond it—like directly transforming you into an angel."
Ken sighed. "I naively thought it was all-powerful."
"If you really want supplies, wish for them—or take a short leave to stock up," the Grand Priest said. "Also, about the Supreme Kai discussion I had Vados relay—you might've ignored it. If you have a trainee Supreme Kai nearby, they can use teleportation to handle errands."
"Got it. I'll scout a candidate in the next few days," Ken nodded.
"Choose a human if you can," the Grand Priest added, smiling. "Call it Universe Eighteen if you like—but it's a new universe. I want to handle it differently. We may get surprises."
"Understood."
"When you reach a purity of 40—about Merus's level—you may transform into a true angel. Then Broly can become a true God of Destruction. For now he's the God of Destruction in title, as a trainee."
"Fair enough," Ken said, already running through names. A Supreme Kai from humanity… Goku would be perfect, but at this age? That's a wait.
The Grand Priest looked over to the stands. Vados came at once and bowed.
"You've taught Ken everything for Ultra Instinct?" he asked.
"Yes, Grand Priest. I've passed on the full training," Vados replied.
"Then the rest is up to you," he told Ken. "Every angel must complete their own fieldwork. Merus has the Galactic Patrol; yours is this planet—refine, purify, climb. Reach forty, and the door may open."
Ken's eyes lit up. He wanted to grow up already. Too much he couldn't do in a small body. If the Grand Priest said stay, he'd stay. The Grand Priest wasn't some schemer; if he wanted Ken gone, a look would suffice—no need for theatrics.
"Whis, Vados—you two may return," the Grand Priest said.
They bowed, then departed in twin streams of starry light, carrying Frieza and Champa with them.
Only the Grand Priest, Ken, Merus, Broly, and Majin Buu remained above the ring. The Grand Priest turned to Merus.
"Merus. With me."
They moved off a distance; a translucent barrier dropped around them, sealing sound.
Merus gulped. What did Father want? This was… scary.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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