A.N.
When I wrote this sequel I kept in mind that (Touketsu) Vegeta can't recall his nearly ten years on Earth, aside from a few bad memories. Although he has some mysterious, subconscious morals now, he only remembers a mindless stretch of time as a demon Oozaru and, more importantly, he recalls his childhood up to this death on Namek. So, I wrote Touketsu Vegeta essentially with the same attitude that Namek Vegeta had: playfully sadistic and kind of nuts. While Vegeta at this time did resort to his poker face, he was more immature and tended to throw his weight around. You can imagine my delight when Ultra Ego Vegeta showed off his personality in the Super manga, because he's very similar!
The Tournament
Head held high and looking straight ahead, Touketsu walked with Queen Marenna through the vaulted halls to the arena. He stole a glance in her direction, his eyes narrowing. His nostrils flared as he tried to pick up on a scent, but found nothing. He stretched out his ki sensing ability, easy to do since she was inches from him. He scowled subtly in bafflement. He couldn't detect a ki signature from her at all. What the hell was she? Did she know who he was? She certainly knew he was royalty. He scowled inwardly, reminding himself that he wasn't royalty anymore.
I abdicated. I forfeit that entire life and identity. I'm not Prince Vegeta anymore…and I'm sure as hell not "Prince Touketsu". A chill went up his spine at the memory of Zhernobog's parting words.
They walked down a corridor that opened out into what he presumed to be the Imperial Box. It was situated at the bottom level of the immense open air amphitheater, offering the best view of the entertainment. It was evening. The sprawling, circular battle arena was comprised of white stone that resembled opal, and an outrageously tall bonfire burned beyond. Flashing in blues, greens, and pinks, the raging fire encircled roughly a quarter of the arena like a curtain, tiered seating of glossy black stone filled with spectators encircling the other three-quarters. The firelight bounced off the arena floor, the rainbow of colors within the stone flashing like lightning. Touketsu stared into the hypnotic dance of flames. He was back on the hoverjet, the colors of the aurora borealis illuminating Bul-
He shifted his attention to the contenders. He and Marenna had arrived a little late to the show it seemed, for there was some sort of pregame going on. Young men and women of differing alien races contested one on one, engaging in what appeared to be a points-based warm up. Male and female, the smell of sweat intermingled with their differing musks and the pulsing, living blood beneath their skin. His brows drew together in bafflement, for his eyes and ki sense told him the metropolis sized colosseum was absolutely packed with people - far more than what his nose was picking up on.
Marenna took a seat. "Come, please sit down," she said, capturing his attention as she motioned to one of the several empty seats next to her. Lined with white furs, the ornate chairs were carved from black stone flashing with opalescent fire.
He hesitated and caught the eyes - six in fact - of a single guard standing off to the queen's right. Touketsu looked up at him and coughed out a chuckle into his fist at the sight of the three heads that were practically bumping into each other. Just what was the evolutionary advantage to that monstrosity?
The three-headed, anthropomorphic dragon was clad in black and silver plate armor, an enormous broadsword hanging from his side. Iridescent, oily black scales covered his body, the scales of his throats a golden yellow. Crowns of golden horns adorned their heads and rows of blood-red spikes extended down their necks. A pair of crimson, chiropteran wings, their tops plated with feather-like scales, were folded behind him. Each head was distinctly different in appearance: The ram-horned center head was broad and snake like, almost like a giant anaconda, its coiled neck thick and powerful. The head on its right resembled that of a tatsu, bearded and maned. Long, catfish-like whiskers grew from its upper lips and a pair of gnarled antlers crowned its head. The one on the left was that of a heraldic dragon, a pair of spiraling horns upon its head and its heavy brows studded with spikes. He was massive and towering, standing 12 feet tall on his thick, trunk-like legs. A heavy tail, its long end split in three like a barbed flagrum, thumped the floor behind him. Arms crossed, all three of the dragon's heads glared at him through blazing, fiery orange eyes.
Touketsu cast the creature a haughty look before taking his seat next to Marenna, his eyes never straying. The queen signaled to two nekojin in black kimonos. One of the felines snow white and the other ebony, they approached bearing platters of food and drink. The tantalizing smell commanded Touketsu's attention, but he hesitated. His life as the hated Saiyan Prince had long instilled in him a degree of wariness with untested comestibles. He grabbed a leg of mutton and an antler tankard filled with frothy beer, bringing the beverage up to his nose for a sniff. He gave the meat the same treatment. Not detecting anything, he brought the cup to his lips, barely wetting them.
"I assure you the food is safe."
"I'll be the judge of that," he growled, not looking Marenna's way as he nipped off a tiny piece of meat. He didn't detect any telltale signs of poison so far, but damn the food tasted good. He knew he should wait for any delayed effects, but he was absolutely ravenous now. All this screening did was whet his appetite. He lasted for all of one minute before deciding that if the food killed him, it would be worth it. What sort of life was he holding out for, anyway?
He took a sip of the beer first, the sparkling bite of the fermented drink awakening a denied tongue. As a PTO elite, he rarely imbibed in alcohol. It dulled the senses, something he couldn't afford to do. That didn't stop Nappa and Raditz from cajoling him into joining them on their bar hopping, though. He turned them down most of the time, but occasionally he'd give in, a secret desire within him to just relax for once. His hangover the following morning reminded him why he didn't do this shit in the first place.
"Why is it all or nothing with you?" Raditz asked, his face flushed with alcohol.
"Because you either do something or you don't, third class."
Touketsu made a decision to just live it up before going back to his hell. He took a healthy swig, and the frothy, golden libation coursed down his parched throat to immediately bloom into a heavenly warmth in his stomach. He was soon chugging it down, the beer spilling out the sides and rolling over his bobbing Adam's apple as he greedily quaffed the contents. He brought the leg of mutton up and sunk his fangs into its deliciously smoky, crisp sear. Ripping off a good chunk, his eyes rolled back before drifting closed in ecstasy. He sighed through his nose in bliss as he chewed the tender, savory meat, the delightfully unctuous juices trickling down his throat. It had been so long since he'd experienced food, much less food this delicious. The raw meat he had hungrily consumed at the Lookout was the last thing he could recall eating. Before that, it was some bug person.
He looked around. The spectators standing or sitting at attention within and near the Imperial Box were all dressed identically - ostensibly the queen's attendants. He raised an eyebrow. They all appeared to be female. They were anthropomorphic in nature, resembling mammals, birds, and various reptiles, and they were also all essentially monochromatic; varying shades of blacks and whites met his eyes, though scales, feathers, and even fur flashed with a subtle rainbow of color-play. The three headed dragon seemed to be the only servant that was both male and a soldier.
He turned his attention to the contenders, who relied primarily on hand to hand combat. Weapons such as swords or spears were occasionally employed, the match halting and resetting when one opponent broke through the other's defenses. Flight and some ki attacks were also utilized, but the kids were very green; occasionally an errant ki blast made its way to the stands before dissipating into harmless sparks that skittered across the surface of an invisible forcefield, shielding the audience. A huge, 3 dimensional projection hovered high above the fighters, the sounds of battle amplified for the obvious benefit of the viewers in the high stands. He eyed the sickle-tipped staff propped up by the queen's side, and his eye twitched. Witch's magic.
They were on to the third match. Propping his elbow up on the armrest, he dropped his chin in his hand and huffed impatiently. Hope the junior division doesn't go on much longer. This is getting boring fast. He stripped the last of the meat from the bone he was holding and carelessly tossed it aside, earning a little gasp of offense from a woman sitting nearby.
Disinterested, he diverted his attention to the stands of the colosseum. The tiered seats were steep, towering like a high-rise and filled with all manner of alien life-forms. He craned his head up at the stands that almost disappeared into the darkness of the atmosphere, the stars sparkling high above. Touketsu finally looked around at some of the occupants sitting nearby. He straightened a bit in his chair, blinking in some surprise: They all had halos. That settled it, he was indeed in Otherworld. Or…somewhere in between? The queen, that three headed soldier, her attendants, and those in the arena lacked halos. Were they like the queen? Gods perhaps? He flared his nostrils; he could smell the individual scents of the tournament contenders. They were alive somehow, unlike the spectators. It explained why his nose told him there were far less living things here than what his eyes and ki sensing suggested. The draconian guard had a scent, but there was something otherworldly about it. His nose detected nothing from the attendants, but he picked up on their ki signatures. Oddly, they all seemed identical.
He returned his attention to the stands, scanning with greater scrutiny when he noticed another anomaly: The spectators also all appeared to be female, women or girls of varying ages. Some cradled sleeping infants to their breasts, tiny halos of their own hovering over their heads. The babes snoozed on, oblivious to the riotous commotion of the enthused spectators surrounding them. He wrinkled his nose. Feel like I'm in a maternity ward. Upon closer examination there did appear to be males in attendance, but they were all children.
The current match reached its conclusion. After some respectful bowing and the standard displays of good sportsmanship, they and all the previous young combatants lined up shoulder to shoulder in front of the Imperial Box. Queen Marenna stood, and both she and the combatants offered respectful bows. His chin still propped in his hand, Touketsu was clearly unimpressed. The young fighters in the arena glanced up at the strange male seated right next to the queen, their curiosity unguarded.
Queen Marenna and the other occupants of the Imperial Box were magically projected out over the arena, her voice ringing out through the night air. "Thank you young Familia for showcasing your skills tonight. Those of you who have chosen to face your designated Inimcus later this evening, we look forward to seeing your battle. May you emerge victorious and find peace!"
"MAY YOU EMERGE VICTORIOUS AND FIND PEACE!"
Touketsu actually flinched at the jarring sound of all the spectators erupting in deafening unison. He rolled his eyes and dropped his chin back down on his fist as the young warriors filed off the arena. Gimme a fucking break. Glancing to his left, he snapped his fingers at a silvery black vulpine woman. She was holding a silver platter laden with white onyx goblets filled with red wine, and he impatiently motioned to her to bring him one. Many questioning eyes were now on this rather uncouth stranger, and murmurings began to stir. Queen Marenna addressed the audience.
"Before we begin The Melee, I would like to announce that we have a special guest with us tonight," the queen spoke, gesturing to Touketsu as he took a drink. His posture screamed utter boredom, but he glared at her suspiciously from over the rim of his goblet. "My dear guest. We have not yet received your name."
He lowered the cup a bit, his eyes not leaving hers. "That's because I didn't give it," he sneered before taking another sip. There was a ripple of gasps and whispered condemnations of "disrespectful" and "barbarian" throughout the crowd of spectators.
"You watch how you speak to the queen, worm!" The dragon-man growled threateningly. Touketsu narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the towering guard but didn't move from his comfortable position.
Queen Marenna held a hand up to the hulking, three headed soldier. "It is quite alright, Lord Zeygorn," she said before turning to Touketsu and offering a respectful bow of her head. "In your own time, my dear guest."
Touketsu's narrowed eyes flicked from Zeygorn to her. It occurred to him that she had not referred to his royal lineage in the presence of her subjects; only in private had she called him a prince. He watched her as she turned her attention back out to the crowd. What game was this woman playing at?
Just then a veritable legion of warriors marched out onto the sprawling arena floor, recapturing his attention. They divided in two, each group facing each other as opposing armies on a battlefield. Still leaning lazily in his seat, Touketsu looked from one to the other; every individual was dressed differently and obviously hailed from different planets. Unlike the combatants that preceded them, these individuals were all male and seemed to exude battle expertise. They were rough and scarred, and while their power levels were nothing impressive they nonetheless appeared to be seasoned warriors in their own right. He brought the goblet up for another drink, one eyebrow rising in mild intrigue. At any rate, this looked to be more interesting than the junior league.
"Let the Melee…BEGIN!" A gong sounded. The opposing teams charged each other to the cadence of deafening battle cries, the ghostly curtain of fire backlighting their forms as they clashed into each other with the force of tidal waves.
Arms were severed, bodies were impaled, heads were lopped off. Screams of agony and rage filled the air, the sounds paired with the roar of the spectators. Touketsu choked into his goblet, his eyes widening in surprise at the complete savagery. She didn't say it was to the death. Far more intrigued now, he put his cup down and leaned forward to watch.
Before too long the massive battle arena was covered in dismembered bodies, its glimmering white surface slick with the multicolored blood of various alien races. No one was left standing; those that survived fell over, groaning and grievously wounded. The gong sounded again, signaling the end of the match. Queen Marenna stood.
"This concludes The Melee!" She announced. Cheers and whoops ripped through the stands. From near to far and on high, throngs of spectators levitated from the seats of the gargantuan amphitheater to descend upon the battlefield. Mothers and their children stormed the arena hand-in-hand, rapturous glee on their faces. Discarded weapons were picked up by women and children alike, and the mortally wounded were put to the sword. Bodies were butchered before being thrown into the bonfire like so much trash to be burned. Limbs were thrown in, heads pitched in like basketballs as riotous laughter filled the air.
Touketsu was standing now, a little slack jawed as he watched the Dionysian spectacle unfold. He glanced over at Queen Marenna who was seated and placidly watching the revelers, chin tilted up and the smallest of smiles on her sapphire lips. She caught his eyes and looked back to him, her smile broadening ever so slightly.
Touketsu turned his attention back to the arena as he casually sat back down. "Well. Seems you know how to entertain after all."
"Ah yes," Marenna said. "The second quarter of the tournament is arguably the favorite of the people. Next, participating Familia will face their Inimcus one on one. In the final quarter, remaining Inimicus will face each other.
He made a mental note of the strange team names. "And…these upcoming matches will be to the death?"
"Yes."
"Huh. Interesting." Touketsu could feel his bloodlust stirring. "You hold these tournaments nightly, do you?"
"We do."
"Must be a pretty fucking big kingdom of yours," he chuckled.
"It is that. Some leave, but there are always new arrivals."
When the corpses had been cleared, Queen Marenna stood and picked up her staff. The boline atop the staff began to wax to a perfect circle as it did before, and Touketsu subtly averted his eyes. He didn't know if the staff would have the same effect whenever he gazed on it, but he wasn't about to chance it. The bloodied, white stone floor waned as a full moon would until the entire circular arena became black opal. It stayed that way for a but several moments, and it quickly began to wax until it was entirely white once more. It was completely clean, the blood gone.
The tournament went on. After a little more drink and a lot more food, Touketsu was far more relaxed than he had been upon his arrival. The third quarter pitted the so called "Familia", the younger fighters, against the "Inimicus", the ostensibly more seasoned warriors. Right away a pattern of differential treatment revealed itself: On the rare occasion that the young fighter vanquished his or her foe, the crowd immediately got to their feet, screaming in adulation and praise and chanting "Throw him in!" The victor would then drag their vanquished adversary to the flames and toss him in. If the Inimicus won, he was met with jeers and condemnation. Sometimes he was pelted with food. They either ignored the insults or they jeered right back as they left the arena. Marenna would stand, staff in hand, and a hush would fall over the crowd. Through what Touketsu could only assume was more magic by now, the body of the slain Familia was gently lifted and reverently lain into the fire.
They were now three matches into the fourth and final quarter of the tournament, wherein the Inimicus battled one on one. Touketsu assumed they were saving the best show for the last, for the warriors and their skills sets were impressive. Absent of all the solemn pomp and ceremony of the third quarter, this part of the tournament was pure fun. The fourth quarter had barely started, but Touketsu had begun to shift in his seat. He had since gotten his fill of food and drink, and he was fast becoming aware of another need that demanded to be sated. It was a very basic, Saiyan need. He was never one to sit on the sidelines for long, and he watched the ongoing battle hungrily. It had been so long since he'd punched someone…killed someone.
The loser was killed, and the gong sounded. Touketsu blinked and straightened as though coming out of a trance as the bloodthirsty crowd roared in approval. He watched intently as the victor unceremoniously tossed the body of his vanquished opponent into the rapacious flames. I need this. I need to take the edge off before I go back. "Woman," he announced, not taking his eyes off the arena, "your guest would like to show your people how it's done." Touketsu quickly rose from his seat.
Marenna's head whipped in his direction, the strands of jewels beneath her crescent headdress clacking. He was about to leap into the arena when a surprisingly strong hand gripped him by the wrist. He faltered and looked over in surprise to see the queen standing by his side.
"Are you certain? It is to the death," she stated seriously.
"I'm aware of that," he snorted, turning away.
Her grip tightened. "Please, one moment." He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised at the intensity in her blue eyes. Her eyes flicked downward for a moment as she chose her words. "If you wish to do this, you must abide by the rules of the tournament. Dispatch your enemy, and dispose of his body."
"Yes, it's rather straightforward," he drawled impatiently as he again made to leave. To his shock the gracile woman suddenly yanked him to her, the soft folds of her silk kimono barely grazing his naked chest.
"His body," Marenna stressed, her voice low and her face flanking his own. "The soul is to be unharmed." Behind them, six eyes narrowed at the newcomer's proximity to the queen.
Touketsu glanced sidelong at Marenna, his head barely turning and his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What do you know of me?" He rumbled.
Her voice dropped to a whisper as she spoke into his ear, sending goosebumps over his skin. "I know that you have used your power in violation of an ancient rule - a rule that the gods themselves are expected to obey. I would hate for my peers to find that I am harboring a fugitive."
He scowled. "Fugitive? What are you on about?"
"I will have to explain later, after the Tournament concludes. Therefore, you'd best stay alive." She released her hold of him and stepped back. "You have free will. If you wish to participate, I will not stop you, but I ask that you please keep your sword sheathed, good sir."
He ordinarily did not hold back, and he certainly didn't take kindly to being given orders. However, he was well aware that excessive use of the negative energy would slowly stoke Zhernobog's power. Until he could figure out a way to circumvent this problem he indeed had to exercise some restraint. Nonetheless, he also wasn't about to make a fool of himself relearning how to use his true ki. That was a private matter. "Hm. Well I suppose games have rules," he replied condescendingly. "From what I've seen thus far, I need only my bare hands to defeat your pathetic contenders."
She nodded in acknowledgement of their understanding. Her eyes not leaving his, she called out to the soldier behind her. "Zeygorn?"
"Yes, milady!" the dragon's three heads boomed in unison.
"Please come forth. It is time I formally introduce you to our guest." The giant dragon man lumbered over to stand by her side. "This is Lord Zeygorn, Nav's Royal Executioner. It is his duty to execute the last man standing at the end of the games."
"Ba HA!" Touketsu barked out in amused disbelief. "Keeping that little tidbit from me, woman? Huh, some reward," he grinned. "I find it hard to believe that a man that fought to the very end would suddenly just lie down and die. Don't expect me to do the same."
"You misunderstand," answered Marenna. "The last man standing is expected to battle Zeygorn like any other combatant. Do you still wish to participate?"
"Hn. Absolutely," he grinned up at the towering warrior. He had scanned the draconian warrior's power level; it was huge but nothing he couldn't handle, and he found himself excited at the prospect of battling this one. His toothy grin broadened. You're no Kakarot, but you'll do in a pinch.
"I must inform you that Zeygorn is undefeated."
Grinning imperiously, Touketsu's eyes didn't stray from Zeygorn's. "For now."
Zeygorn visibly bristled. "You're an awfully confident little one, aren't you?" The center head spoke while the flanking heads glared silently.
"Does that concern you?"
"It amuses me."
"Well laugh it up. We'll see how amused you are later. Now, if you'll excuse me." He looked to the queen and tipped his head, a sarcastic sneer on his face. "Milady." He vaulted into the arena.
A wave of curious murmurs and whispers swept across the stands over the rather rude spectator that now appeared to be contesting. He crossed his arms and turned to look arrogantly at the winner of the last match, a burly, purple-skinned cyclops.
The queen addressed the spectators. "My subjects, our guest has expressed his desire to participate in the tournament. While he is not required as the Inimicus are, he insists. Therefore, as I am his host, I have decided to honor his request. My dear guest," she called to him. "May you emerge victorious and find peace."
Touketsu snorted. "Thanks, lady." There was another ripple of murmurs throughout the stands over this disrespectful unknown, but there was also intrigue. He was not Inimicus nor Famila. Why was he fighting?
The gong sounded, and the behemoth charged.
Touketsu didn't even bother uncrossing his arms. He leapt straight up and delivered a spin kick to his opponent's face, tearing his head right off and sending it straight into the fire behind him. There was a collective gasp from the stands and a hush fell over the crowd. Touketsu watched the body slump over, boredom on his features, before looking up at the crowd. "I hope you people like early evening meals, because this tournament will be concluding soon."
The stands were deadly silent. Suddenly deafening cheers erupted as he walked over to the headless corpse. "Another! I haven't got all night, come on!" He shouted as he flung the decapitated carcass into the flames.
Starving for battle, Touketsu happily tore through the meager scraps that were his contenders. It had been far too long since he had felt the crunch of bone under his knuckles, his blood pumping through his veins, his opponents' blood spattering on his face. It felt so good, so cathartic, to just kill again. As the tournament went on, and to his unbridled delight, each of his contenders was a greater challenge than the last.
They were nonetheless no match for the demon.
Touketsu began to lose himself in torturing this cannon fodder, his moves and fighting discipline becoming sloppier. Not that it mattered. One needn't exercise finesse when crushing ants. The spectators' uproarious approval of his gory, sadistic displays of power only fueled Touketsu's arrogance and bloodlust as he devolved into the Oozaru's berserker mindset.
He allowed his adversaries to get their hits in, reveling in the bone jarring pain that set his blood alight with battle fury and stoked his strength to insane levels. Laughing manically, he eventually abandoned his refined fighting style completely; he tore the jaws from off his horrified adversaries, ripped their spines from their backs, punched through their bodies to yank out their entrails. The spectators seemed to share in his perverse joy, and it became clear that he was fast becoming a fan favorite.
"THAT'S HOW YOU BUILD A FIRE!" He laughed as he pitched the body parts into the blazing pyre. His body streaked with the gore of his vanquished opponents, he turned and spread his arms out to his sides as though absorbing the screams of adulation from the bloodthirsty crowd. "HOW DO YOU PEOPLE FEEL UP THERE? WARM? COZY?!"
There was deafening laughter and excited shouts of "YES!" And "MORE!" As Touketsu laughed right along with them.
Who's next?!" He roared.
"You." Zeygorn, the three-headed Royal Executioner, stepped into the arena. A hush fell over the crowd. "Hope you enjoyed your last minutes being alive."
"Aw, we're at the end already?" Touketsu answered playfully, manic energy lighting up his eyes. Nervous laughter broke out here and there amongst the stands. This warrior had really grown on them. They were a bit reluctant to see him slaughtered. Touketsu was grinning with mad anticipation, his fingers twitching spastically. Murderous energy was crashing within him like a car-pileup, and he could barely restrain himself from attacking right that second.
Queen Marenna stood. "Our guest is the last man standing. He will face Nav's Royal Executioner, the undefeated Lord Zeygorn!" She announced.
The crowd roared in excitement, and Touketsu's grin broadened, his fangs flashing. At last, some real fun. "I certainly hope the best was saved for last!" he called out gleefully. Touketsu got down into Vegeta's signature battle stance, his long tail lashing impatiently behind him. Back straight, Queen Marenna clasped her hands together beneath the broad sleeves of her kimono. They tightened ever so slightly, and the gong sounded.
Zeygorn's horned left head shot out at Touketsu like a striking snake, his neck lengthening unbelievably. Touketsu hadn't even blinked before Zeygorn's gaping reptilian jaws clamped down over his left hand. Like an electric eel, a massive current of energy coursed through the dragon's neck, shocking his captive before yanking him off his feet and swinging him in an arc.
Touketsu was slammed back and forth into the arena floor repeatedly, pulverized white stone flying up before descending down like snowfall. Fury quickly broke through his stunned senses as he was thrashed about, his body darkening. The dark light raced though the demon's body, the stone in his chest lighting with explosive hatred. In the Imperial Box, Queen Marenna stiffened imperceptibly in her seat.
The slavering beast that had become ever larger and hungrier with each opponent sacrificed to it at last bolted from its pen. All concerns for Zhernobog ceased to exist. Touketsu's guttural roar intermixed with the crowds' reaction when his power was released: His aura exploded forth in dripping blue and purple fire, and he unleashed the shadow through a blast of dark ki from his trapped hand, straight down the dragon's throat.
Zeygorn released him with a strangled cry, his throat collapsing as the imploding blast detonated inside and his head retracted back. Amazingly, Zeygorn didn't go down; though the left head wheezed and writhed as his eyes bulged comically, the dragon didn't so much as stagger. The other two heads paid no mind to their ailing brother, their eyes only on their target.
Touketsu was seeing red as he got back up, his outrage overtaking his amazement at the dragon's fortitude. The shadow instantly descended back over his body, the dark light blazing throughout. "YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT YOU THREE-HEADED FREAK!" He roared, his dripping aura flaring as he charged blindly towards his target.
Zeygorn's body exploded with its own fiery, red-orange aura, the flames swirling upwards around him. His armor was instantly imbued, the now burning hot metal glowing blindingly as though it had just been pulled from a forge.
Touketsu's eyes widened when Zeygorn's previously hidden power level hit him like a freight train. He skid to a stop just as Zeygorn unfurled his leathery wings, the appendages twice ballooning in size. He flapped them forward, sending a hurricane strength gale of power around and behind Touketsu.
The demon Saiyan was thrown forward, straight into the draconian warrior where he was captured in a bearhug. He lost hold of his transformation and screamed as he was held to the blazing armor. The right and middle heads looked down at him smugly, the left head still writhing in an undignified manner as it struggled to breathe.
"Pretty brash, you little upstart. We were going to give you a quick execution, but now we'll take our time," the snake-like head sneered. Zeygorn increased his pressure.
The crowd's cheers of excitement drowned out Toukesu's screams as his body again darkened. He had never experienced such blistering heat coming from a warrior's mere ki. It burned like the fires of Hell itself. There was something about his armor that seemed to actually channel and enhance his spirit energy. Touketsu's Shadow Cast, normally offering a degree of protection, was completely ineffective. His aura burst forth and he struggled to free himself of Zeygorn's powerful grip, but his own aura only seemed to stoke the power in Zeygorn's bizarre armor. He started to panic.
Son of a bitch, I was roped in. He hadn't taken a one of his opponents seriously, and the ease in which he defeated them only fueled his overconfidence. He had severely underestimated Zeygorn; by the time he faced him he was a blood-crazed, careless fool. The berserker finally stepped back in favor of the strategist. He needed to channel the cold aura - he had to detach himself!
As he felt his ribs snapping and the acrid scent of his own searing flesh filled his nostrils, that was becoming less and less likely. Switching between the mind sets associated with the two modes of dark energy had become second nature between his battles with Frieza and Goku. However, he hadn't kept his mind trained in its use since he had been avoiding the dark energy altogether. Shit, THIS is what happens when you don't stay on top of your training. IDIOT! He cursed to himself.
Suddenly the throat of the left head began to glow beneath its scales as though filling with burning coals. His throat bulged outward as the fiery ki forced the collapsed trachea back open, and he leveled a vengeful gaze on Touketsu. The throats of the other two likewise began to glow and expand.
Toukestu's eyes widened, darting from one head to the other when he realized he was about to be blasted with hell fire from all three. His body still dark with Shadow Cast, he swiftly changed tactics: he put his hands to the warrior's searing armor and fired.
The shadow joined the attack, its suffocating power snuffing out the burning energy in the armor. Zeygorn released him as he was blasted backwards, and Touketsu stumbled back. The dragon warrior was stunned, but the left head held his constitution as the power within his throat continued to build uninterrupted. He blasted a stream of lava-like spew straight at Touketsu.
He leapt up and somersaulted over and behind Zeygorn at a speed too fast for the naked eye to track. With pin-point accuracy, Touketsu struck out a forearm laced with dark ki and took the left head clean off.
Touketsu landed on his feet as the severed head flopped to the floor. He allowed himself only a microsecond to gloat when he throttled back to his opponent, leg extended in a flying kick. Zeygorn caught him by the ankle and flung him straight towards the bonfire, and Touketsu quickly halted his trajectory. Hovering in midair, he turned and went slack jawed when Zeygorn grabbed his severed head and reattached it to the stump of his neck with a swipe of a fiery, ki-laced finger.
"Wha- what the hell technique is this?!" His body darkened, and he threw out a hand. "KUROKEI!"
The dark blast hit Zeygorn dead on, the implosion dragging the flames from the bonfire behind him and into the crackling black sphere that encased the dragon warrior. Touketsu threw his head back and laughed manically amidst the furor of the crowd, his hands curled into fists and his arms flexed in a picture of triumph. Cheers and excited screams ripped through the stands as the onlookers felt the pull of the bizarre power right through the protective barrier as the sphere shrank incrementally in size. "Ha ha ha! GOODBYE, whatever your name was!" Touketsu laughed out, his black hair whipping wilding around him as he waited for his adversary to be crushed into atoms.
The sphere stopped shrinking, then it began to bulge outward in bursts. Touketsu's laughter tapered off, and he straightened. The smile dropped from his face with a snarl and he brought his hands together as though holding an invisible ball. He still had some control over the attack; he'd crush that bastard yet. Gritting his teeth, he fought against it in a stalemate.
The flames from the bonfire continued to pull in, dancing and swirling over the surface until it resembled a giant, black, soap bubble. Soon, the fires joined the accretion disk of indigo ki that spun and deformed over the top of the sphere. Touketsu's arms began to shake as he struggled to contain the forces that were steadily pushing out. The whole attack bulged outward once more before suddenly exploding, throwing Touketsu's arms outward as he was blown back.
A cyclone of blackness and fire swept Touketsu straight up, inadvertently saving him from the bonfire. He regained control, hovering within the center of the black maelstrom raging around him. Urgently he looked around for his enemy, simultaneously scanning for his ki when he blinked in bewilderment.
There were three ki signatures.
He whipped his head to his right when he saw a burning orange glow shooting towards him like a winged meteor. Quickly he dodged, barely getting out of the way as the blazing, bat-winged dragon shot past him. With a snarl he charged an attack in retaliation when he caught a flicker of cobalt energy from his left. He turned and he was suddenly faced with a sinewy black form, the blue-eyed creature a silhouette against the dark blue electricity snapping around its unfurled wings.
Its long neck reared back and he was struck dead on by a powerful bolt of lightning-like ki from its mouth. The storm around him clearing, Touketsu greyed out and plummeted to the arena below. He regained his bearings midair, landing on his hands before performing a handspring. He straightened, blinking in surprise at the warrior across from him. What the hell is going on?
It was a yellow, legless dragon man not unlike a naga, ram's horns upon its head and wearing armor identical to Zeygorn's. Suddenly a black yinglong in the same armor swooped in from his left, and a sword galvanized with electricity slashed through his back. He was spun around, chest thrust forward as he arched his back with a gasp of surprise and pain. His chest immediately received the same treatment from a fiery sword swung by an armored red dragon from his right. He was again spun in the opposite direction before being quickly grasped by his wrists, the force pulling his arms out hard to his sides.
Touketsu's head whipped incredulously from one side to the other at the two winged dragons that had flown down and seized him. They were the left and right "heads" of Zeygorn, each with their own fully formed bodies. "What in the…fusion?! You were a fucking FUSION?!" He had heard of such a technique, but until now had never seen it.
He doubled over when a heavy, yellow fist plowed into his midsection. He was drawing in a wheezing breath when his head was suddenly being knocked about from one side to the other as he endured blow after blow from the yellow naga warrior. The assault stopped and Touketsu hung his head in exhaustion, blood streaming from his temples. Blinking hard, he shook away the double vision.
"Just wanted to get a few extra shots in before your execution," the naga panted with a smirk, driving a fist into the palm of his hand. "You've earned them."
"We've got him, Yudoch. Why don't you do the honors?" the red dragon nodded in encouragement. He turned to the black dragon gripping Touketu's other arm. "You ok with that, Ajadzo?"
"Sure, Jozop," his whiskered brother-in-arms smirked.
"Thank you, my brothers," Yudoch grinned as he drew his sword. "Don't mind if I do."
"Weaklings," Toukesu slurred through a mouthful of blood as he struggled to look up at his executioner. "You're weaklings without being joined at the hip."
"We seem to be enough for you as individuals, loudmouth," Yudoch commented smugly. "It's time to silence you at last." Touketsu spat a mouthful of blood on the floor in reply. Ajadzo and Jozop pulled his arms practically out of their sockets as he was spread-eagled for execution, and he bit back a groan. "Do you think you can match our strength divided?" Yudoch chuckled with a theatrical twirl of his sword. "Let's find out." He raised the sword over his head and brought it down to cleave Touketsu in half.
Touketsu threw a kick into the descending sword, knocking it out of Yudochs' grasp before kicking him in the head with the other foot. "WEAKLINGS!" Touketsu raged, throwing Jozop away followed by Ajadzo. He began trading blows with all three dragons as they immediately re-engaged.
Touketsu performed a backflip to create distance, landing on his feet when a tremor ripped through him, locking him in place. The crimson, winged Jozop had stomped into the arena floor, sending shockwaves through his being that kept him glued where he stood. Jozop belched out a stream of lava from his gullet, straight towards his immobilized target.
On pure reaction, Touketsu brought up his left arm as Shadow Cast pulsed over him, racing up his arm and leaving his body to create a shield. The lava deflected away, and Jozop flew straight towards him, sword drawn and aflame with his ki. The tremors still gluing him in place, Touketsu pulled back the shadow shield to encase his forearm. His arm edged with dripping indigo ki, he swung it as a blade and cleaved through Jozop's throat for the second time. The burning eyes of the severed head rolled up as it bounced over the arena floor.
"You killed Jozop!" screamed Ajadzo as he launched himself towards the demon-Saiyan.
"NO SHIT!" Freed from the tremors, Touketsu snapped a sidekick into Ajadzo's jaw, sending him flying and temporarily knocking him out. Touketsu flew after him, his burning, shadow-clad fist drawn back.
What felt like thousands of needles sunk into his wrist, instantly disrupting the manifestation of ki. Touektsu felt his arm pull from its socket and his elbow dislocate as his trajectory halted, and he fell to the floor. He scrambled up to see the head of the yellow, snake-like Yudoch clamped around his fist, his curved, syringe-like teeth burying into the flesh.
Touketsu snarled in rage. "You dare try your brother's move, fool?!"
Shooting into the air, Touketsu yanked Yudoch off the ground and swung him overhead to slam into the arena below. The creature never loosened his grip, his long neck going slack and lengthening bizarrely as his body hit the ground. Touketsu landed on his feet some distance away, happening to lock eyes with his tenacious adversary that still held him fast. The red-eyed dragon had the audacity to smirk around his trapped wrist.
Irritating hookworm! He began to charge a blast that would blow Yudoch's head off.
He couldn't. His thoughts were suddenly fragmented, unable to connect as though his very consciousness was drowning in tar. Touktesu maintained his hard countenance as a cold sweat began to bead over his forehead. Shit. SHIT. Poison. Yudoch was steadily pumping a powerful toxin into his veins.
Yards away, the naga's body straightened and his neck began to retract. Touketsu was pulled forward, sliding over the floor before being yanked off his feet to fall onto the ground. Now sliding on his belly as his enemy reeled him in like a fish, Touketsu dug his claws into the arena floor and halted his movement. Yudoch tugged once, and his body began to slither forward when it stopped.
Yudoch shot the perspiring demon Saiyan a crafty look, a smirk curling his scaly lips as though he had just come up with a new joke. His arm outstretched before him, Touketsu watched the dragon warrior's head steadily crawl its way up his forearm as he worked his flexible jaws, the neck lengthening to accommodate. Yudoch was going to swallow him.
Touketsu actually smirked in spite of himself. "Nothing clever to say now that you've got me?" He asked, his amused voice trembling as the poison continued to disrupt his nervous system. His mouth full, Yudoch couldn't retort. "Ha…your m-mother was a…f-flatworm."
The black storm dragon had meanwhile come to. He swooped in to land next to the weakened Touketsu sprawled out on his stomach. "I'll cut your food into smaller, quieter pieces for you, Yudoch!" Ajadzo crowed, raising his sword over his head.
Pushing through the debilitating poison, Touketsu drove his clawed fingers and thumb into Yudoch's eyes. The dragon screamed in surprise around his arm as Touketsu suddenly threw himself backwards, pulling taught the naga's long, serpentine neck. Ajadzo had no time to correct his course of action before his sword fell over his brother's neck, instantly decapitating him.
Ajadzo roared in dismay. "DAMN IT!-" His words were cut off when Touketsu struck him in the teeth with the thick, severed trunk of Yudoch's retracted neck, his teeth still clamped into his arm. Ajadzo's head snapped back from the force, and he greyed out before falling back onto the floor.
Touketsu pried the slack jaws of Yudoch from off his arm and let the head fall to the floor. Yudoch's poison, still steadily dulling his senses, had an unintended side-effect: the depressant helped him at last detach. His body darkening to a jet black, he began to lurch unsteadily towards his foe like a reanimated corpse, his eyes simultaneously both intense and dead. The icy, blue energy strummed within as he closed the short distance, and he dropped a heavy hand over the neck of his fallen adversary. "Kuroshimo," he slurred.
Ajadzo gasped sharply when he felt his breath leave him, the cold touch searing through his scales. He blindly kicked out and connected, successfully breaking contact. Clambering to his feet as quickly as his weakened body would allow, he faced his adversary. Touketsu had taken just enough energy to mitigate the effects of the poison. His body still horribly burned and slashed, he had barely recovered.
Ajadzo charged him in a rage, sword raised. Focused now, Touketsu leapt up and in one smooth move performed a roundhouse that kicked the sword out of his grasp. For Touketsu, time slowed to a crawl. Still moving with the momentum of his attack, Touketsu snatched the sword that seemed to be hovering in midair and swung it through his stunned adversary's neck. Ajadzo's headless body fell over.
Panting, Touketsu looked over in the direction of the red dragon Jozop. His decapitated body still lay there, unmoving and very much dead. He looked back down at Ajadzo, the black dragon's eyes rolled up into his head and his tongue lolling out of his dead mouth.
It appeared that without the fusion they could be decapitated like any other being. His shoulders relaxed, and he dropped the sword with a clang as the audience roared in excitement.
Behind him, the severed head of Yudoch was crawling towards his decapitated body, the long neck pushing itself along like a giant inch worm. The body stirred and rose. Oblivious to Touketsu, Yudoch's body reached down and grabbed his serpentine head, reattaching it to the stump of his neck with a swipe of a ki-laced talon across the throat.
Touketsu detected the flicker of ki of when the head was reattached. He whirled around just in time to see Yudoch shoot a stream of corrosive green energy at him from his maw. Touketsu dodged and the snake like head struck out at him at lighting speed. The dragon struck again and again, missing every time but only just barely.
"Enough of this shit! I DON'T HOLD BACK!" Touketsu roared. With a pulse of shadow and a flash of dark ki, the energy blade Svaroken was summoned. He threw out a hasty blast of dark energy center mass at the naga, knocking the air out of him and sending him tumbling back. Sword raised, Touketsu leapt up at his downed foe. In the Imperial Box, Marenna's fingers alighted on her staff.
Touketsu locked eyes with Yudoch for a nanosecond before bringing the blade down over his throat, cleaving it in half. The black energy danced and smoldered over the stumps of the severed neck, seemingly cauterizing Yudoch's previously healable wound. The eyes of the naga warrior rolled up, and the body stopped breathing. Marenna relaxed back in her chair, withdrawing her hands back beneath the sleeves of her kimono.
Touketsu released his hold of Svaroken and stared at the body with mixed feelings. That should have utterly destroyed him. Well…at least I know I'm safe from disqualification, he mentally shrugged. That fight was much harder than he thought it would be. He looked up to the now silent crowd, catching his breath and feeling a bit sheepish after all his bravado.
"Finally," he panted, gesturing vaguely to the bodies surrounding him. "A decent fight."
Several moments ticked by before the crowd erupted in cheers, the spectators one after the other standing in ovation. Touketsu dutifully grabbed each corpse and chucked them into the fire like so much refuse, quickly followed by their heads. He planted his hands on his hips and dropped his head with a huff of relief.
Snorting in amusement, he gave a disbelieving shake of his head. Well, he wanted a challenge and by the gods, he finally got one. He looked up at the stands, the nameless spectators showering him with praise for his victory. He cracked a smile. Damn. How the hell did I of all people get into heaven? His smile broadened into a grin of true happiness.
To quote the song "My Friend of Misery" from the band "Metallica": "One man's fun is another's hell". :D
From my experience as a fanfiction reader, fight sequences can be difficult to follow, and I've gotten feedback from someone that mine were as well. Do you feel the same? I admit I didn't expect to enjoy writing fighting sequences as much I have, but maybe I can simplify them.
I tend to take the name of an inspiration source and either spell it backwards or scramble the letters. "Zeygorn" is a mash up and contraction of "Zmey Gorynych" an infamous multi-headed dragon of Russian mythology. The "unfused" dragons were inspired by other dragons of Slavic mythology:
"Yudoch is a mash-up of "Chudo-Yudo", a Slavic, multi-headed dragon capable of reattaching his severed heads with "a stroke of a fiery finger".
"Jozop" is a reverse of "pozoj", a dragon of Croatian legend that causes earthquakes.
"Ajadzo" is inspired by " Azdaja", a Balkan Slavic dragon. Sometimes called a "hala", among other names, it took the form of fog or black clouds and was associated with storms. I depicted Ajadzo as a yinglong (also ying-lung), a winged Chinese dragon. A tatsu is a similar looking Japanese dragon.