Garlic Jr. stared, his eyes wide with disbelief as he gulped. He felt as if reality itself was mocking him. After all he'd been through, could it really play such a cruel joke? He had been told Earth was defended by weaklings, but then Piccolo appeared.
He had believed his demon-fueled transformation was unstoppable, but Piccolo had effortlessly countered it. Now, his one remaining advantage—his immortality—was something his opponent claimed to share.
That elegant white cape and arrogant posture made Garlic Jr. burn with shame. He couldn't help but sigh, a deep-seated bitterness rising within him.
"We're both heirs to a legacy… so why is the gap between us so vast?"
In his mind, no matter how strong Piccolo was, his own eternal life guaranteed an eventual victory. But if they both stood on the same immortal ground, the path forward became treacherous.
Garlic Jr. glared at Piccolo, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Damn you! How can a freak like you even exist in this world!"
"Fool."
Piccolo closed the distance, his eyes flashing like lightning. A crackling energy blast erupted from his hand, scorching Garlic Jr.'s body. The monstrous form, now as fragile as burnt paper, collapsed with the slightest gust of wind. Even with his power multiplied, Garlic Jr.'s own strength was nothing compared to Piccolo's. It was like a child with a toy gun trying to fight a tank—a futile fantasy.
"Gah!" Garlic Jr. coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body trembling as his bloodshot eyes glared with pure hatred. His immortality kicked in, knitting his flesh back together while the Demon Star behind him, like a black sun, pulsed with energy. Yet, even with this endless wellspring of power, he stood no chance against Piccolo.
His veins felt ready to burst with rage. If he couldn't beat Piccolo directly, then he would make him watch as he destroyed everyone else. He was immortal—what did he have to fear? The thought was a release valve, and all his fear and anger found a new, vicious purpose.
"Aaaargh!"
With a savage roar, Garlic Jr. lunged toward the old Guardian, opening his maw and unleashing several beams of dark purple energy from his throat. Bathed in the eerie light of the Demon Star, the sky grew darker, and the malevolent energy swelled in size.
The Guardian froze in terror, but Piccolo merely scoffed. He blurred into motion, appearing before the Guardian in an instant. With a casual swipe, he tore Garlic Jr.'s energy beams apart. He then shot forward, and a single explosive punch obliterated the demon's head.
"Trash," Piccolo sneered, disgustedly flicking the gore from his hand.
The cold insult stabbed at Garlic Jr.'s pride, fueling his resentment. As his body slowly regenerated, a desperate cry escaped his lips. "Lady Towa, lend me your strength! I will use the full power of the Demon Clan to slaughter them all!"
His heart-rending roar tore through the heavens. In response, the Demon Star swelled into a swirling vortex. From its depths, countless spectral forms materialized and poured out—the vengeful ghosts of the Demon Clan.
Piccolo braced for battle, but he watched as only some of the phantoms rushed him. The others bypassed him entirely, flying toward the Lookout's inhabitants.
"Could it be..." He whipped his head around, his eyes widening as he saw the ghosts converge on a single target: the old Guardian. Garlic Jr. wasn't just attacking him; he was targeting the Guardian and the two children!
Piccolo intercepted the bulk of the spectral wave, but a few phantoms slipped through the gaps in his defense, swarming the Guardian, Dende, and Cargo. With their meager power levels, they were utterly helpless, unable to break free from the ghostly grasp.
The Guardian felt his strength drain away as if in a trance. His ancient body buckled, and he fell to his knees with a thud, the divine staff clattering to the ground. When he looked up, he was surrounded by the demonic specters, the most terrifying of which wore the face of the original Garlic.
"Old friend, we meet again."
"Hahaha! I've returned! After three hundred years, my vengeance is finally at hand!"
"Are you surprised? Afraid? This is the price for your betrayal! You, who dared to call my heart dark—were you any better when you cast out your own evil to claim the title of Guardian?"
The whispers echoed like thunder, piercing the Guardian's heart like daggers and haunting his mind like a recurring nightmare. This was more than a physical assault; the malevolent energy invaded his spirit, corrupting his consciousness. Mr. Popo rushed to help but was caught in the psychic storm, suffering the same torment as the Guardian and the children.
Bloody fissures cracked across their skin as they coughed up blood. The ghosts began to drag them toward the vortex of the Demon Star—a gateway to a terrifying realm where evil ki surged like a toxic ocean. It was a battle between gods and demons, and centuries of resentment had finally been unleashed upon the world.
As Piccolo batted away another wave of ghosts, a sudden, inexplicable weakness seized him. His power vanished in an instant, as if a switch had been flipped. Not good! He looked at the tormented Guardian and immediately understood. He and the old Guardian were two halves of the same whole; if one's life was in peril, the other would share the pain.
"Heh... hah..." Garlic Jr., who had exhausted himself performing the ritual, looked as though he had aged decades in a single moment. "This is the combined resentment of our people, summoned with the power of the Demon Realm! Hahaha, now you will face your punishment..."
He looked at Piccolo, his taunt dying in his throat. The magnificent warrior from moments ago was now on one knee, his face slick with sweat and his arms trembling as they supported his weight. As the old Guardian let out another scream of agony, Piccolo's arms buckled, and he collapsed, gasping for breath.
"Could it be..." Garlic Jr.'s eyes lit up as he finally understood the connection between them.
A cruel, triumphant grin spread across his face. He lunged at the weakened Piccolo, slamming a fist into his cheek and sending him flying. The attack confirmed his suspicion. "I see now! Your life is linked to that old relic! No wonder you were so desperate to protect him! Ahahaha... you're finished!"
He shrieked with glee, his eyes flashing with malice. In a flash, he appeared before the Guardian. He raised his arm, shaping it like a spear, and plunged it downward, aiming straight for the old god's heart. The attack was so fast it howled through the air, the wind it generated sharper than any blade. The Guardian shut his eyes, his body tensing for the end.
Thump!
Garlic Jr. and Mr. Popo stared in disbelief. At the last possible second, Piccolo had thrown himself in front of the Guardian, taking the fatal blow himself.
A spray of purple blood erupted as Garlic Jr.'s massive hand pierced clean through Piccolo's torso.
But as he had said, he too was immortal. A few holes in his body were of little concern.
With a furious roar, Piccolo's weakened body flared with energy, vaporizing the ghosts around him as a wave of killing intent washed over the Lookout. Garlic Jr. stumbled back, his eyes wide, and in a final, desperate act, he reactivated the Demon Star's vortex. A colossal black void opened in the sky, threatening to suck everything into its depths.
Piccolo gathered his remaining energy to intervene, but a pained gasp from the Guardian sent a fresh wave of agony through him, paralyzing them both.
The abyss was drawing closer.
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