Three months passed in the blink of an eye, and Cesasar finally left the infant cultivation chamber.
He was lifted from the pod, but immediately noticed something unexpected.
The ones holding him were not his parents.
Instead, standing there were two familiar Saiyans.
The male had sharp features and a battle-worn presence, his eyes calm but vigilant. The female beside him radiated a gentle warmth rarely seen among Saiyans.
"Easy now," the woman said softly, adjusting her grip as she held Cesasar. "From today on, we'll be taking care of you."
Cesasar's mind sharpened.
Before he could fully process the situation, the man spoke in a steady voice.
"Your parents died during a mission," he said bluntly. "They fought well."
That was all.
No unnecessary words. No false comfort.
The woman glanced at her partner, then back at Cesasar. "My name is Gine. This is Bardock. You'll stay with us from now on."
Bardock.
The name struck him instantly.
Bardock…?
Cesasar's gaze shifted slightly. Nearby, another infant Saiyan lay on a mobile bed, quietly chewing on her fingers. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, and her eyes—bright and curious—locked onto him the moment she noticed his movement.
"That's our daughter," Gine added with a small smile. "Her name is Kasha."
A daughter…? Cesasar thought, surprised.
That detail didn't align perfectly with what he remembered. Bardock having a daughter—especially one born this early—was something he hadn't expected.
He considered it for only a moment.
Then he set the thought aside.
Minor inconsistencies didn't matter. The future was already diverging.
As Bardock picked up Kasha's bed and gestured for them to leave, Gine placed Cesasar beside her. The two infants lay next to each other as they exited the chamber.
Kasha turned her head, stared at him, then suddenly reached out and pressed her finger against Cesasar's lips, letting out a loud, delighted cry.
"…What are you doing?" Cesasar thought flatly.
He pushed her hand away, but Kasha immediately tried again, clearly entertained.
Bardock glanced back and snorted. "She's lively."
Gine smiled. "Looks like she likes him. Maybe they'll grow up well together."
Cesasar said nothing.
That's not how compatibility works, he thought dryly.
Bardock's home was located in a developed district of Planet Vegeta, not far from the imperial zone. Only families of intermediate-level warriors and above were permitted to live there.
Though not extravagant, the house was solid and functional—built for warriors who rarely stayed long.
Life there was… stable.
If not for one detail.
Kasha followed Cesasar everywhere.
For reasons he couldn't understand, she treated him like her personal discovery. Whether he was crawling, eating, or resting, she was always nearby. Gine often laughed, commenting on how close they were becoming.
Cesasar endured it in silence.
Before long, the time came for formal training.
Under Bardock's arrangements, both children were sent to a Saiyan training camp. With the exception of elite-class children—who received private instruction—all intermediate-level warriors trained together.
Cesasar and Kasha were assigned to the same camp.
There were exactly one hundred Saiyan children there, all with intermediate potential. Most had battle powers between sixty and seventy. Only a handful—Cesasar among them—were already approaching one hundred.
Training began immediately.
And it was brutal.
There was no technique. No refinement. No instruction worth calling guidance.
It was simply violence.
Day after day, adult Saiyans beat them down relentlessly. No mercy. No explanation. Survival itself was the lesson.
"This isn't training," Cesasar realized grimly. "It's endurance through suffering."
His battle power increased slowly, but his resistance skyrocketed. Bruises healed. Bones hardened. Pain became familiar.
Still, the inefficiency was infuriating.
"If Saiyans weren't naturally strong," he thought, "this method would be completely useless."
He asked Bardock once if there were alternative ways to train.
Bardock looked genuinely puzzled. "This is how Saiyans grow. It's always worked."
That answer told Cesasar everything.
Saiyan training was primitive. Savage. Effective only because of their biology.
Compared to that, Earth's martial arts were on an entirely different level—focused on ki control, internal strength, and efficiency.
Left with no other option, Cesasar experimented on his own.
He began strapping weights to his body.
Nothing sophisticated—just added resistance.
Under Planet Vegeta's ten-times gravity, the results were immediate. His growth rate surpassed nearly everyone in the camp.
Kasha, of course, copied him.
She strapped several weights onto herself, immediately collapsed, and stared at him with teary, accusing eyes.
Cesasar felt no guilt.
That's on you, he thought.
Three years passed.
At nearly four years old, Cesasar stood over half a meter tall.
His battle power had reached 410.
In a camp where most struggled to break 200, his strength was exceptional.
At that age, he had already surpassed the power Goku displayed during the battle with King Piccolo's reincarnation.
Kasha wasn't far behind.
Her battle power stood at 370, placing her well above her peers.
Together, their performance rivaled that of ordinary elite-class warriors.
When the three-year training period ended, their next orders arrived.
Under Bardock's arrangements, Cesasar and Kasha were assigned to the same mission.
Destination:
**Planet Arlia**
A low-level world in the North Galaxy, inhabited by primitive insectoid life forms.
Threat level: minimal.
Conquest expected to be swift.
Cesasar looked up at the crimson sky of Planet Vegeta that night.
A controlled battlefield,* he thought calmly. *Good. A place to gain real combat experience without unnecessary risk.*
This would not be a trial of survival.
It would be preparation.
This is where it truly begins.