Dragon Ball: Being able to revive means you're courting death? How naive!

Chapter 348 The Death of the Kurdish King

The mountain wind swept across the rugged cliffs, carrying reddish-brown sand and gravel. The boy had one hand in the pocket of his martial arts uniform, and a few strands of his indigo hair fluttered in the wind, gleaming like pearls in the setting sun.

The boy lowered his eyes to stare at the approaching Kurdish king, his eyelashes casting a fan-shaped shadow on his eyelids, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if he were watching an insignificant farce.

The Kurdish king's boot crushed a fist-sized rock. Amidst the cracking sound, he ran his hand over the rough texture of the sword hilt. His scarlet pupils gleamed eerily in the twilight, and a vicious smile twisted his lips, revealing congealed blood between his canine teeth: "Young man, as far as I know, you killed my son Frieza with this sword."

The boy's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, his fingers unconsciously stroking the fabric at the edge of his pocket.

"What do you mean?" the boy asked, his voice like velvet soaked in ice water, clear yet chilling.

The Kurdish king's laughter abruptly stopped, his thick eyebrows furrowing into two vertical black scars. He suddenly drew his greatsword, the blade whistling as it sliced ​​through the air.

"Then go die!" King Kurd roared as he leaped up, his massive body drawing a smooth arc in the air, his muscular arms raising his sword above his head.

The moment the sword light slashed down like a bolt of lightning, the boy finally raised his eyes. A golden glint suddenly burst forth in his pupils, and his right hand moved with lightning speed—his index and middle fingers precisely clamped the center of the blade. The instant his fingertips touched the cold iron, a string of tiny sparks burst forth.

The Kurdish king's pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints, his sword-wielding wrist froze in mid-air, and his plump face contorted in shock.

"This...this is impossible!" The Kurdish king's voice was like a duck being choked, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, and the veins on his neck bulging like purple earthworms. He subconsciously increased the force, his feet sinking into the mud up to his ankles, and his whole body of fat trembling with the force.

The boy raised his eyes and stared at King Kurd, his eyelashes casting dappled shadows beneath his eyes, a cold smile playing on his lips: "You're wrong, my strength goes far beyond this sword."

Three veins bulged on the Kurdish king's forehead, and his cheeks swelled up to a purplish color, making him look like an overinflated toad. He suddenly let out a low roar and channeled all his energy into his arms.

Upon seeing this, the boy narrowed his pupils and suddenly tightened his grip on the sword blade.

“You lost.” The boy spoke, his tone as calm as if stating something perfectly ordinary. He raised his left hand, his palm gleaming with a soft golden light, yet it made the scales on the Kurd King’s body stand on end.

"Wait...wait a minute!" King Kurd raised his hands, his fat palms waving frantically in front of his chest.

The boy stared at him expressionlessly, as if he were looking at an ant.

The moment the golden light pierced through the Kurdish king's chest, he could even see his own reflection in the other's pupils. Golden hair moved without wind, the hem of his clothes fluttered, and his expression was as cold as a glacier from the far north.

The Kurdish king's massive body flew backward, crashing through three giant trees that were as thick as two people could hug, and carving a deep ravine over ten feet deep into the mountainside. The dust that rose along the way was mixed with his broken groans.

Shang Yun and the others, who were speeding through the sky, suddenly came to a stop.

Krillin's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing but he couldn't speak. Beads of sweat rolled down his chin and soaked into the collar of his martial arts uniform, leaving dark circular stains on his chest: "That's right, he's a Super Saiyan!"

Tien Shinhan narrowed his eyes slightly: "Who is he?"

Bick hovered silently behind the group, gazing at the indigo figure at the bottom of the valley, his heart filled with the same worry.

The boy slowly walked to the edge of the cliff, and suddenly his golden hair rose up like flames.

The Kurdish king dragged his mangled body toward him, steam still rising from the bloody hole in his chest, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pleading: "Please... spare me... I'll give you a planet, no, I'll give you the entire solar system, please... spare me... please... ah..."

Before he finished speaking, the young man once again gathered a wave of energy in his right hand, the golden light making his profile appear as cold and hard as a god.

"boom!"

When the second energy wave exploded, the entire mountain trembled violently.

Klin instinctively reached out to protect his eyes, but the golden light leaking through his fingers made his palm appear translucent.

After the smoke and dust cleared, the once steep cliff face had been leveled, and the figure of the Kurdish king had vanished without a trace, leaving only a few charred scales scattered among the ruins.

The boy turned to look at Frieza's spaceship and unleashed an energy wave with a wave of his hand.

The metal hull emitted a piercing scream under the high temperature, and the spaceship shattered like a fragile glass jar. The fragments fell like a meteor shower, creating craters on the ground that emitted blue smoke.

As the boy gazed at the burning wreckage, his blond hair gradually turned back to indigo, and his aura dissipated. He returned to the appearance of an ordinary boy, though a trace of lingering coldness remained on his lips.

“Mr. Sun Wukong will arrive in three hours.” He looked up at the clouds, his voice suddenly softening, as if he were a different person.

Shang Yun noticed that his eyes were slightly drooping, and his eyelashes cast faint shadows on his eyelids, revealing a weariness unique to young men. "Do you want to come with me to greet him?"

"How do you know my father?" Son Gohan asked, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Vegeta hovered silently above everyone's heads. He could sense the boy's hidden power, a level that even he could not reach, yet it carried the unique aura of a Saiyan.

"Impossible..." he muttered, biting his lower lip until it bled. "Besides Kakarot, his son, and me, how could there be any other Saiyans..."

“I’ll go with him,” Tien Shinhan suddenly said, his eyes flashing sharply. “Although I don’t know who he really is, judging from his actions in defeating Frieza, he should be one of us, or at least not our enemy.”

Yamcha stroked his chin, his gaze shifting back and forth between the boy: "But he said he'd take us to find Sun Wukong, is that true?"

Bulma bit her lower lip, her fingertips unconsciously twirling the ends of her blue hair: "How did he know when Goku would be back?"

Vegeta suddenly sneered, and bluish-white flames rose from the soles of his feet: "A bunch of cowards, just a greenhorn..." Before he could finish speaking, he had already transformed into a streak of light and rushed towards the direction where the boy had disappeared.

Piccolo glanced in the direction they had disappeared, a deep rumble rising in his throat, and followed.

"Let's go." Shang Yun gently patted Klin on the shoulder.

"Trust me, he's one of us."

Klin gazed in the direction where the boy had disappeared, recalling the two devastating energy waves from just now, and nodded as if possessed.

And so, everyone followed.