Gogeta woke to a foul stench — a heavy, musky odor clinging to his gi like wet fur. His face twisted in disgust as he grabbed the fabric. The normally sharp blue of his uniform was now stained with blotchy gray patches, reeking of sweat, grease, and whatever else Grakk had smeared on it.

  “Gross…” Gogeta muttered, tossing the gi over his shoulder.

  Down at the laundry station, voices were already raised. Gogeta stepped in to find Mori — arms crossed, her emerald eyes locked on Grakk. The towering crocodilian alien leaned lazily against the wall, sharp teeth glinting in a smug grin.

  “It is most uncouth,” Mori’s voice was sharp yet composed, “to tamper with another’s garments — let alone with such a distasteful scent. I demand recompense.”

  The room went dead silent.

  Then, one Saiyan snorted.

  “Bwahaha! Who the hell talks like that?”

  Grakk chuckled low in his throat, arms folding across his chest.

  “Oh no,” he drawled, “we’ve offended the ‘high and mighty’ princess.” His jagged grin widened. “Should we bow?”

  A few dumb Saiyans actually bowed sarcastically.

  Mori’s eye twitched. Gogeta chuckled from the back.

  “Mori,” he smirked, “I think they wanna get beat up.”

  But Grakk wasn’t done. He shoved past Mori, his scaled arm swatting her wrist.

  CRACK.

  The sound made the room freeze. Mori stared down in disbelief as her bracelet — a delicate silver band inlaid with sapphire — shattered on the floor.

  The sapphire lay amid the splintered silver — the once-pristine gem now chipped and dull.

  A snicker broke the silence.

  “Oops.”

  Mori’s breathing sharpened, her fists clenching as her aura flickered violently.

  Gogeta stepped forward, his smile gone.

  “Hey…” His voice dipped low, calm but firm. “I’d say you’re done now.”

  Grakk turned, still grinning.

  “You’d say?” His clawed hand cracked like stone as he flexed his fingers. “And what if I don’t feel like stopping?”

  “You should,” Gogeta’s voice dropped further. “Unless you wanna leave this place in pieces.”

  But Grakk’s grin just widened — like he was enjoying this.

  “You act all noble,” Grakk sneered, turning back to Mori, “but you’re just some brat playing princess — dressing pretty and barking orders like anyone gives a damn.”

  Mori’s fingers dug into her palm. Her aura surged.

  “You wanna act tough?” Grakk chuckled darkly. “Yeah, you ain’t some lost princess or something. You’re just another grunt like the rest of us.”

  “You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Mori’s voice shook with restrained fury.

  “Oh yeah?” Grakk leaned in, voice dropping to a poisonous whisper. “Then prove it, princess. Let’s see if you can last more than a minute in the arena.”

  Mori’s fists unclenched — only so she could point at the door.

  “Fine,” she growled. “Meet me in the arena.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” One Saiyan stepped between them, raising his hands. “No, no, no — this is bad. Grakk, you know you can’t go all out in there. You mess them up too bad, and you’re gonna have Havie or Havos breathing down your neck.”

  “Yeah,” another Saiyan added, “just keep it light, man.”

  “You think I care?” Grakk’s voice rumbled like thunder. “I’ve been breaking bones long before I stepped in this damn castle.”

  “You kill one of them,” the first Saiyan warned, “and you’re done. Havos won’t just kill you — he’ll make it slow.”

  “Yeah,” someone muttered grimly. “I heard what he did to the guy who crushed that noble’s son...”

  For a moment, Grakk didn’t speak — just flicked his gaze from face to face, grinning like they were all idiots.

  “I’ll ‘keep it light,’” he chuckled. “Long as they know when to stay down.”

  He turned back to Mori, eyes gleaming like twin blades.

  “I’ll see you in the arena,” Grakk murmured. His grin widened, teeth glinting sharp. “Hope you’re smart enough to stay down when I say so.”

  The door slammed behind him.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The arena loomed like a jagged maw carved into the planet’s crust, its walls slick with centuries-old bloodstains and scorch marks from forgotten battles. Rivers of molten lava snaked around the central platform, their crimson glow casting eerie shadows on the towering obsidian pillars that bore ancient Saiyan runes—tributes to warriors long reduced to ash. Weapons of every imaginable brutality littered the edges of the battlefield: rusted axes, spiked chains, and jagged spears embedded in the rock, relics of a culture that worshipped strength above all. Above it all hung a thick, sulfurous haze, choking the air with the stench of war.

  Mori strode forward, her boots crunching over blackened gravel, her posture rigid as a blade. Beside her, Gogeta scanned the terrain, his usual smirk replaced by a tight-lipped frown. The heat was oppressive, lava geysers erupting sporadically, splattering the rocks with fire. A cluster of Saiyans—no more than twenty—lounged on jagged outcroppings, their laughter sharp and mocking.

  "Look at these pups!" one sneered, a scarred brute with a missing fang. "Think they’re here to *train*? Nah, Grakk’s gonna turn ‘em into rugs!"

  Another, a lanky Saiyan with a tattooed scalp, jabbed a thumb at Gogeta. "Bet the crybaby’s gonna piss himself before the first punch!"

  Gogeta’s jaw twitched, his fingers flexing. He’d fought worse, sure—but the arena’s aura felt *wrong*, like the ground itself was hungry.

  ---

  **Grakk’s Entrance: The Swamp King’s Redemption**

  The crowd’s jeers crescendoed as the arena floor trembled. With a roar that shook the pillars, Grakk burst through a stone archway, his hulking frame silhouetted against the lava’s glow. His crocodilian snout dripped saliva, razor teeth glinting, while his spiked tail lashed like a wrecking ball, demolishing a boulder in its path. His scales, moss-green and cracked, bore faint stains—Saiyan laundry soap, a cruel reminder of his humiliating penance.

  "**GRAAHHH!**" he bellowed, slamming a clawed fist into his chest. "You Saiyan maggots thought I’d *forget*? Two years! Two years scrubbing your skid-marked armor! **TWO YEARS!**"

  The Saiyans howled with laughter. "Aww, the swamp monster’s still salty!"

  "Careful, Grakk—if they kick your scaly ass, you’ll be scrubbing toilets on Fetid Prime again!"

  Grakk’s yellow eyes bulged, his nostrils flaring as steam hissed from them—a bizarre trait of his species when enraged. "**SHUT YOUR ROTTING HOLES!**" he spat, a glob of acidic drool melting the ground. "These brats’ bones are **MINE!**"

  ---

  **Mori’s Silent Storm vs. Gogeta’s Flickering Nerve**

  Mori stood motionless, her mother’s shattered bracelet clutched in her palm, its gemstones glinting like dead stars. The insult to her bloodline—Zola’s legacy—had carved a cold fury into her soul. Her aura, usually a controlled ripple, now crackled like a dying star, scorching the gravel at her feet.

  Gogeta shot her a sidelong glance. "Uh… Mori? You good?"

  She didn’t blink. "Focus. This creature’s weakness is his pride. We dismantle it."

  Gogeta swallowed. *Since when did she sound like a warlord?* His own ki felt jittery, the taunts slithering into his skull. *What if they’re right? What if we’re just—*

  "**Enough.**" Mori’s voice sliced through his doubt. "Youe power level is higher than mine. Act like it."

  Gogeta straightened, fists trembling but raised. "Yeah. Yeah, I got this."

  **The Crowd’s Cruelty: A Chorus of Scorn**

  The Saiyans, now perched on the obsidian pillars like vultures, hurled insults like daggers:

  Saiyan #1: "Hey girl if you kids lose you gotta admit you and that scared boy are just kids playin’ war!"

  Saiyan #2: "No, if she loses, she should just admit she’s too pretty to fight and go be someone's princess instead!"

  "Gogeta! If you scream for ya mama, we’ll send flowers to your funeral!"

  One voice cut sharper than the rest: "Grakk! Lose this, and I’ll personally fly you back to Fetid Prime! You can babysit the *mud-leeches* again!"

  Grakk’s reptilian cheeks flushed puce, his tail smashing a lava geyser in a burst of steam. "**I’LL BATHE IN YOUR SPINE, JAKK!**"

  Mori’s gaze never wavered from Grakk, but her mind raced. *His left knee twitches before he lunges. His tail favors the right. Pathetic.*

  ---

  **The Calm Before the Storm**

  Gogeta exhaled, the heat searing his lungs. His eyes darted to the weapons embedded nearby—*maybe a sword? A shield?*—but Mori’s voice froze him.

  "Do not falter. We are *better* than this filth."

  Grakk crouched, his claws gouging trenches into the stone. "Heh. Gonna enjoy this. Royal meat’s always tender."

  Mori’s hand ignited with violet ki, her voice a whisper of death. "You will *choke* on those words."

  The arena fell silent.

  Lava bubbled.

  A bead of sweat slid down Gogeta’s temple.

  The Barrage of Futility

  Gogeta and Mori exploded forward at the same time, their figures blurring against the molten glow of the arena. The crowd roared in anticipation—half expecting the fight to be over in mere seconds.

  **The Barrage of Futility – Enhanced**

  ---

  **Grakk’s Sadistic Delight**

  Grakk’s crocodilian jaws split into a grotesque grin, his yellowed teeth glinting as he threw his head back and roared with laughter. His entire body quivered—not from pain, but euphoria. Scales rattled like armor plates as his tail thrashed, carving trenches into the arena floor. "**BWAHAHA!** Feels like I’m gettin’ a massage from a couple o’ *ants!* Hit harder, brats! **TICKLE ME PROPER!**"

  The Saiyan crowd howled, though a few lower-class warriors leaned forward, brows furrowed. One muttered, "They’re… not even flinching. Those punches would’ve shattered *my* ribs."

  ---

  **Gogeta’s Brutal Onslaught**

  Gogeta’s fists were a blur of desperation, each strike landing with a metallic *CLANG* that reverberated like a war drum. His knuckles split open, blood spattering Grakk’s moss-green scales, but the alien didn’t budge. "**RAAAAH!**" Gogeta screamed, channeling every ounce of his rage into a haymaker aimed at Grakk’s throat. The impact cracked the air—but Grakk merely yawned, his clawed finger flicking outward.

  **CRACK!**

  Gogeta’s wrist bent at a sickening angle. He stumbled back, clutching his mangled hand, face contorted in agony. "Ngh—*damn it!*"

  Grakk’s tongue slithered out, licking his own eyeball in a grotesque show of mockery. "Cute. My turn."

  ---

  **Mori’s Calculated Ballet**

  While Gogeta brawled like a storm, Mori danced. Her movements were liquid—a flicker here, a ghostly afterimage there. Every time Grakk swung, she vanished, reappearing to deliver a surgical strike to the same patch of scales beneath his left armpit. *Thud. Thud. Thud.*

  "Quit *dodgin’*, ya prissy little—!" Grakk snarled, his claws gouging craters where she’d stood milliseconds prior. His frustration mounted with each miss, steam hissing from his nostrils in erratic bursts.

  A high-class Saiyan in the crowd narrowed his eyes. "She’s… targeting a fracture point. Look—his left scale cluster’s *glowing.*"

  "Impossible," scoffed an elite. "Grakk’s hide’s impenetrable."

  But the super-elite—a hulking warrior with a jagged scar across his chest—leaned forward, silent. His fingers tightened around the obsidian armrest of his seat.

  ---

  **The Tides Shift – A Sacrifice and a Snarl**

  Gogeta, panting and bloodied, charged again. His aura flared crimson, fists trailing fire as he unleashed a wild, overhead smash. "**EAT THIS!**"

  Grakk didn’t bother blocking. The punch connected with his brow ridge—and Gogeta’s arm *snapped* at the elbow with a wet *SNAP.* He crumpled to his knees, howling.

  "Pathetic," Grakk sneered, raising his foot to crush Gogeta’s skull—

  **WHOOSH!**

  Mori materialized in a burst of golden light, her palm slamming into Grakk’s chest. Not to harm—to *shove.* The alien skidded back half a step, just enough for her to haul Gogeta aside by his collar.

  "Stop. *Thinking.*" Mori hissed, her voice glacial. "He’s armored like a war-tank. You’re hitting *randomly.*"

  Gogeta spat blood, cradling his shattered arm. "Then what’s *your* genius plan?!"

  Mori didn’t answer. Her eyes locked onto the faint, pulsing glow beneath Grakk’s armpit—a vulnerability only visible when he swung his right arm.

  ---

  **The Crowd’s Awakening**

  The Saiyan spectators erupted as Mori’s hair suddenly *blazed* gold, her aura erupting in a supernova of light. Lava geysers bent toward her, as if bowing to a queen.

  "**SUPER SAIYAN?!**" a mid-class warrior roared, leaping to his feet. "But she’s—she’s a *half-breed!*"

  The super-elite’s chair cracked under his grip. "Impossible…" he breathed. Even *he* hadn’t achieved the transformation—not without decades of battle.

  Grakk froze, his amusement melting into something darker. A low, guttural growl rumbled in his chest as his own aura began to *pulse*—a sickly green miasma that reeked of rot and primordial swamps. "**Oho…** Now *this* is a hunt."

  ---

  **Gogeta’s Breaking Point**

  Enraged, Gogeta forced himself upright. Lightning crackled around him as his golden hair spiked violently, lengthening into the jagged mane of a Super Saiyan 2. The ground quaked, obsidian pillars fracturing under the pressure.

  "**SHUT UP!**" he roared, his voice layered with a thousand echoes. "I’M NOT… **WEAK!**"

  He lunged, his good fist connecting with Grakk’s jaw in a blow that finally—*finally*—made the alien stagger.

  The crowd fell deathly silent.

  Then, chaos.

  "**SSJ2?!**" a Saiyan screeched. "Since when do *children* ascend mid-fight?!"

  The super-elite stood, his earlier arrogance replaced by a scowl. "This… changes nothing. Grakk’s *playing.*"

  But his clenched fists betrayed him.

  **Grakk’s True Power – A Swamp’s Wrath**

  Grakk’s laugh was now unhinged, his pupils dilating into reptilian slits. "**YES! YES! BLEED! SCREAM!**" His aura exploded, transforming the arena into a murky bog. Lava solidified into blackened sludge, the air thick with the stench of decay.

  Mori’s golden aura flickered as the miasma choked her light. She gasped—her speed faltered.

  Grakk seized her throat, lifting her off the ground. "Gotcha, princess."

  But Mori’s lips curled into a smile. "Fool."

  Her finger jabbed into the glowing fissure under his arm.

  **CRACK!**

  A sound like shattering glass.

  Grakk’s roar of pain shook the planet.

  **The Aftermath – A Shift in the Winds**

  The Saiyan crowd was on its feet, voices tangled in disbelief:

  "She *cracked* him?!"

  "Did… did we underestimate them?"

  The super-elite turned away, snarling. "Luck. Nothing more."

  But as he stormed off, his tail twitched—a telltale sign of unease.

  Gogeta collapsed, his transformation fading. Through swollen eyes, he watched Mori stand victorious over a kneeling Grakk, her golden hair casting long shadows over the battlefield.

  "Still… think we’re w

  eak?" Ahh Mori is something else.

  Mori glanced at him, her aura dimming. "You’re reckless. But… adequate."

  The arena, once a chorus of jeers, now buzzed with wary respect. The game had changed.

  And somewhere havies, ghostly smile seemed to linger. These kids are ready I guess