"Have you warmed up your brittle old bones yet?" Tenshinhan taunted the Great Demon King, something he definitely would not have done if he didn't feel in control. This one was not one for bluffing. He was all honor.
"Why don't you attack me and find out?" Demon King Piccolo smirked.
"I'm afraid to end this too soon," Tenshinhan answered before tightening his fighting pose and getting serious. His body blurred and faded away. Piccolo's eyes raced across the airship to try and pick his opponent up.
"Don't get cocky!" Demon King Piccolo yelled out while a powerful shockwave emanated from his body, picking up what seemed to be an uprooting gust of wind blasting all away, spreading from every part of his body. Yamcha clutched for balance, even at the distance he was in, the Demon King's strength made it a challenge to stay on his feet.
Tenshinhan slid out of the vicinity around the Demon King with a cross-armed block to absorb the shock meant for him. It didn't look like he had suffered any damage from being this close, with his speed he must have been close enough to be hit point-blank but it didn't look like that attack was meant to kill either.
"That's quite a blast there, old man. You didn't get winded, did you?" Tenshinhan smirked after a heavy breath left his lungs. The three-eyed martial artist had to maintain an active level of breathing to keep up his Kiai bubbles and spirit-focused fighting style which became more and more complex the further into the battle one gone.
"It is true that your speed is superior to mine, that your strength is superior to mine. Perhaps you might even be tougher than me in my current body. However, I did not acquire the dread-inspiring reputation I possess by matching martial artist trash hand-to-hand…" Demon King Piccolo declared while straightening his entire body out, canceling his fighting stance for a neutral one.
A raspy roar left the lungs of Demon King Piccolo as he channeled his Ki through his entire body, forcing it to rise and escalate to untold degrees. Tenshinhan knew better than to try and attack his opponent while they channeled their Ki, it was at that point that the power of one's enemy was at their greatest, in addition, he had no idea at all when whatever the attack they were using was going to hit him. For all he knew, he may have run into it point-blank. Mistakes like that might have cost him the entire battle so Tenshinhan made sure to stand still and examine the enemy's technique after he knew what it did and how it worked, he'd be able to read and counter it afterward.
The eyes of Demon King Piccolo lit up red but only for a second. The red light emanating from them focused on a singular point at the Great Demon King's iris while the excess left his eyes in the shape of blazing, transparent aura. It was as if The Great Demon King leaked evil aura from his entire body.
Tenshinhan's body twitched and stiffened. He broke his stance and began twisting and turning into awkward angles, it was as if the Demon King began controlling Tenshinhan's body telekinetically. It was a far cruder method of mind control compared to the simple hypnosis that Muten Roshi and Jackie Chun used, it was a brutal, primitive method, to shove the enemy's limbs using brute force, where resistance would have resulted in the limb snapping.
The evil aura leaking from the Demon King's body began shining white and focusing around his hand. Then it began pulsing from a single point at the right index finger of King Piccolo. It was now that Yamcha realized Piccolo's devious plan – he froze Tenshinhan using his demonic telekinesis so that he could skewer him with a Ki attack, likely one similar to the incinerating eye beam he used before…
"Act arrogant around the Great Demon King, will you…" King Piccolo growled before throwing out his finger and letting the pulsing aura around his index finger blast off at the enemy in the shape of a beam of light. "Drop dead!"
Yamcha's eyes jerked in an impulse given birth by shock when Demon King's beam hit Tenshinhan square in the chest and sent him down. It didn't penetrate him, which likely was the intention behind the attack, but the impact did sound unpleasant, possibly invoking some fractures and, judging from Tenshinhan's facial expression, he did feel the attack for sure.
"Hmph… It seems the name of Demon King Piccolo stopped inciting the apt amount of fear into the hearts of loathsome humans. No matter, it will once I pick up where I left off…" the Demon King massaged his numb wrist with his left hand before directing a stare to Yamcha. "You… You just going to stand there silent or are you going to fight?"
"G-Great Demon King!" Mai left from Pilaf's back and rushed in front of the looming Demon King, dropping on her knees before him. It was likely because of that fact that she did not blow up where she stood the moment she interrupted him. Flattery was the only way to buy time to speak with the Demon King after all. "You will require subordinates, won't you? Now that Tambourine is dead… Why not take this man with you and offer him a chance to serve you?"
"T-That's right…" Pilaf faked a confident chuckle despite it being painfully obvious his underwear was full of warmth deep down. "You said that creating new subordinates is painful and costs you more and more of your lifeforce, right? You can bypass that by employing humans as your subordinates, just how we are helping you right now…"
"Don't joke around!" Yamcha declared after contemplating why the Pilaf crew just tried to save his life. "As if I was going to just kneel around and lick the boots of the scumbag that killed Krillin!"
"Hmph…" the Demon King took a few steps onward and closer to Yamcha, forcing Mai to crawl out of his way and back to her crew. "I should have been the last person to forget that the only acceptable kind of martial artist is a dead one…"
Yamcha lunged at the enemy. Piccolo tempered his body but it was too late, a swipe from Yamcha's hand slammed against Piccolo's temple and scratched downward, followed up by a barrage of similar swipes from his hand. Having caught his opponent off-guard this way, Yamcha continued his blurry barrage of strikes, repurposing them into thrusts, all Piccolo could see was his palms with clutched fingers, like a lion's paw, all Piccolo could feel in that moment was pain.
Little by little, Demon King Piccolo was giving ground to his opponent, skidding back on his wooden boots while Yamcha continued to wreak havoc upon the body of his enemy, not knowing anything about the anatomy of the Demon King, which points of his body were vital, where hitting him would hurt, knowing only that by the time he stopped hitting he'd be hit back, Yamcha continued attacking as long as his dazed enemy allowed it.
Finally, Yamcha could strike no more. His hands felt heavy like led, his things were burning up and it seemed like ages since he's drawn breath. Yamcha concluded his barrage of attacks with a thrust of both hands, similar to one he performed when blasting off his Kamehameha but this time just driving his palms in brute force into Piccolo's chest, hoping that if the Demon King had a ribcage to bust – it would be dust by now. With whited out eyes and purple blood spat up from his mouth, Demon King Piccolo stumbled and fell back into his throne of skulls, slumping like a bag of bricks.
"Alright! How about that!?" Yamcha cheered himself on, not having the faintest clue how he did so well against the enemy that might have seriously injured or even killed Tenshinhan.
"Hey, hold back a little…" a voice came from behind him, prompting Yamcha to turn back and see Tenshinhan on his bottom, rising back to his feet with a small bruise on his chest where the Demon King's beam hit him.
"Tenshinhan…" Yamcha turned to his partner in confusion. "This guy, he's nothing… Why did you struggle so much against him?"
"It's true, I didn't use anywhere near my full power against him earlier. I wanted to see the legendary power that killed so many martial artists, but, most of all, I wanted to punish him for disrespecting martial arts and being foul enough to try and kill off all martial artists just because he fears one technique. A true martial artist fears no technique, even if they do lose to it, they adapt and grow stronger. They certainly don't go around killing martial artists to avoid one specific martial artist or a technique they use…" Tenshinhan explained. "We can kill him at any time we want but before we do, we must punish him and teach the Evil Clan to never return, their time holding the world hostage is over."
"Cymbal…" Piccolo grumbled, spitting a mouthful of purple goop from his mouth to the side and standing back up on his feet, stumbling a couple of times while approaching the pair of martial artists in front of him. "I've lost Cymbal… My son… Those loathsome humans killed my boy…"
"Oh? Someone offed another one of your spawns? Glad to hear it…" Tenshinhan sighed. "As if a Demon scumbag like you could even feel remorse and grief… It's not for remorse that I plan to pummel you and drive you to the very edge of death before taking you out, it's so that you and your entire clan can feel fear, the only emotion you folks can understand."
"You little shits!" the Demon King Piccolo flipped out, throwing his hands to the sides while his eyes whited out and let out bursts of white aura from them. A flare of malevolent, ethereal bursts began blazing around the body of the enraged Demon King. "What would you know about my grief!? Every time a Demon gives birth to their son, it's like they shave off a part of their own life. It's like they share their own lifeforce and strength with their son, hoping they grow and take care of that power. It is the noblest thing that a Demon can do and you pathetic turds have taken out two of my sons already! You know what the most ironic thing is?"
"What would that be?" Yamcha wondered, taking Tenshinhan's side and entering a fighting stance, having decided to put the end to the Demon King before he did something stupid out of desperation, being in the state that Tenshinhan rightfully drove him into.
"That despite the love I felt for my sons, I regret giving birth to them, because if I hadn't, I'd still have enough power to eat your hearts in front of your horrified, blood-covered faces!" the Demon King let all of his rustling power erupt out at once. He must have known that he was out of his element and yet he was furious enough to not care and just want to punish the two martial artists in front of him anyway.
"You three…" Yamcha looked on at the Pilaf crew. "You're not completely rotten inside like this guy. You're just really stupid. Go back into your mechs and get out of here. One way or another, this won't end well and I'd hate having your unfortunate ends on my consciousness."
The Pilaf crew didn't need to be told to leave twice. They were itching to leave since this brawl began but they feared Piccolo's retribution, now that they saw for certain that the humans were in control of this, that the Demon King Piccolo was too blinded with the wish to avenge his fallen sons and to repay the transgressions that these humans have committed with blood and torment, repay them hundredfold, they felt like it was as safe to leave as it would ever get.
The lights in the airship struggled to keep the place lit up in the massive electromagnetic fields that the overwhelming Ki contained inside put out, the out of this world energy that all three warriors let rage shook the airship, again and again, once even making Pilaf slip off the ladder and fall down on his head, only to cry out in panic and scurry back up with a massive bump on his head.
The Demon King extended his hand, Yamcha and Tenshinhan prepared to block, expecting a Ki blast but it was the entire limb of the slug-man that extended onward at them. The elongated hand took a cold and unyielding clutch onto Yamcha's Turtle School gi and began pulling him in but Tenshinhan's knee served as an anvil to the hammer strike of his elbow, crushing the arm in between two extremes and forcing the Demon King to rile back in pain.
That was when the pair attacked together. The Demon King roared out wildly into the air, unleashing an almighty Ki explosion around him that peeled the Pilaf airship apart like a mad and unsatisfied writer tore up the sheet of paper containing the source of their ire. The dislodged and crushed ship parts scattered about while the Demon King floated up above, panting from exhaustion.
Tenshinhan propelled Yamcha onward with his cupped hands serving as a basis for Yamcha's boot to kick off in his charge at the Demon King. Since Tenshinhan was faster than Yamcha and could levitate, he caught up with his partner and the two unleashed a team-combination of strikes against the tuckered out Demon King. While Yamcha's fists laid siege on his enemy's body with the Wolf Fang Fist, Tenshinhan moved in from behind Piccolo and let his own fists blur and disappear for good, striking at his enemy like automated gunfire.
The Great Demon King was reduced to a pathetic, bleeding mess when the two finished their combination with their coup de grâce of their respective rush attacks. The beaten and broken, bloody pulp plummetted to the prairies below while Tenshinhan grabbed hold of Yamcha's hand and kept the pair of them afloat.
"Hmph… I should blast that bastard with a Kikoho to eliminate his body, just in case he survived." Tenshinhan grumbled. "Too bad I have to hold on to you, deadweight…" he smirked at Yamcha.
"I seem to recall being the one who crippled King Piccolo after he took you down while you fooled around." Yamcha came back at his rival.
"Do you often take pride in attacking your enemy when they've realized their son was dead and have let down their guard?" Tenshinhan wondered.
"Oh shut up, besides, if you did use the Kikoho, it would be me who would have to drag your worn-out body back to Muten Roshi through this damned prairie." Yamcha bickered.
"Heh, well, at least you'd get some training done that way, who knows, in a thousand years, maybe you'll be worth fighting again?" Tenshinhan answered. "Either way, use your jet to get clear, I'll destroy this place so that not a trace of the Demon King remains."
"Wait, you were serious? You do know that technique shortens your lifespan, right?" Yamcha looked surprised. "We kicked his ass, he's not a threat to the world anymore, plus, he might have died from that beatdown or the crazy fall already."
"I'm not taking that chance, he looked pretty lively to me and scum like him always stick around longer than they have any right to," Tenshinhan growled before throwing Yamcha to the side, the martial artist flipped a pair of times while throwing a capsule from his pocket that unsealed the jet that was contained within. Yamcha entered the jet and started it in mid-air, taking off just inches before the jet hit the thick layer of ancient-looking trees in the prairie and blasted off into the distance.
Looking at the rearview mirrors, Yamcha saw a flash of bright white light that forced him to look the other way if he didn't want it to blind him. Had there been any aircraft in his way, he'd have most certainly smacked into it as long after the Kikoho had settled down Yamcha's eyes kept seeing double and watering. Not to mention the rumbling noise and tremendous turbulence…
The cranky and shell-shocked martial artist turned the aircraft around to pick up his friend who without a doubt had tuckered himself out completely with that technique again. This time he used it at a much larger range than against Goku in the World Martial Arts Tournament. This way the focus and destructive power of the technique was greatly lessened but it covered more area. Tenshinhan must have counted on the Demon King to have peeled his bloody mess of a face off the ground and tried to run…
Yamcha landed his jet beside the dusty and hyperventilating body of his friend. It didn't take much to find him, it would have taken much longer to do so had it not been for a curious-looking hillbilly with a sword standing by Tenshinhan, ready to stab his blade through the exhausted body of the three-eyed martial artist.
"What da heck, ya bastard!?" the fatso with the sword yelled at Tenshinhan. "Yer one 'a dose dragon bastards, ain'tcha!? What with yer three eyes and whatnot!"
"Stand down, this man is my friend!" Yamcha took the attention of the swordsman by yelling at him from the air so that he didn't skewer Tenshinhan before he could land and get to him. "He tried to finish off a fight we picked with the Demon King Piccolo. You said you've met some dragons or something like that?"
"Yeh, it came at me right from da sky, swooped in an' tried ta strangle me ta get dis 'ere ball thingy…" the swordsman pointed at the Dragon Ball hanging by his neck that Yamcha, by all means, should have noticed far sooner, given how the swordsman was busted up and completely naked, save from the red rags of loincloth that still remained around his crotch area because if there was a God, it was merciful for those it had created.
"The Dragon Ball…" Yamcha mumbled. "We might need that. Could you perhaps let us borrow it?"
"You too? I mean da dragon I can understand, if somebody stole my balls I'd be pretty cranky too but you?! Yer just bein' creepy an' weird!" the swordsman took a defensive swordsmanship stance, directing the point of his blade at Yamcha now. "Not ta mention dis 'ere guy blastin' the whole prairie… This was my prairie! It's even called Yajirobe's prairie, fer Pete's sake!"
"I… I don't recall reading that about this place…" Yamcha stroke the back of his head, feeling uncomfortable about the trouble he had caused to this swordsman but realizing he might not have had a chance to talk to him without first showing him that violence against them was pointless. "Anyway, we kind of need that Dragon Ball and you've threatened my friend too so… If I beat you – we're square, okay?"
"Yeh, the winner can eat da loser for all I care, though you look all hairy and such… Reckon yer not too tasty…" Yajirobe stuck out his tongue, feeling sick by the mere mention of the idea of having to eat Yamcha even though he was the one to bring it up in the first place.