cornbringer

Dragon Ball Z: The Beast Within - CH22

Added 2025-03-04 20:16:00 +0000 UTC

[Third Person POV.] [Nail.] The wind carried the distant echoes of battle—their clash, shaking Namek. From atop a lone mountain, Nail and C

[Third Person POV.]

[Nail.]

The wind carried the distant echoes of battle—their clash, shaking Namek. From atop a lone mountain, Nail and Cepaea stood side by side, the sky behind them tinted with the glow of rising energy, as in the distance, Escarot’s Oozaru bellowed, his aura clashing violently with the dark energy of the enemy.

Escarot was fighting.

But they both knew… it wouldn’t be enough.

Slug was toying with him.

Nail’s fists clenched at his sides. He could feel Slug’s power—dense, overwhelming, suffocating. Even with all the training, all the preparation, the gap between them and the enemy was more than vast.

He wanted to help Escarot. He really wanted.

But he knew he would just get in the way.

They needed more.

Which meant…

Nail turned to his brother. "Cepaea…"

The second strongest warrior of Namek, the one he had trained with when he first hatched, met his gaze, calm, understanding. "You don’t have to say it," he said. "I already know why you are here."

Of course, he did. Cepaea was no fool. He had felt it too—the sheer hopelessness of the battle ahead.

"It’s the only way." Nail’s voice was steady, but there was a weight to it, something he wasn’t used to feeling. “I wouldn’t be here if there was any other option.”

Doubt.

"Our people need us," Cepaea said, his gaze turning toward the village below. "But more than that… they need hope."

Nail swallowed. "And that hope… will live on in me."

"No," Cepaea corrected, offering a small smile. "That hope will live on in us."

Nail’s throat tightened. His fingers twitched slightly, curling against his palms. He was about to ask his brother to give up everything—his body, his mind, his soul. To cease to exist as an individual and become one with him.

He was asking him to die.

Cepaea placed a hand on Nail’s shoulder. "You hesitate," he noted, a smile on his face. "I never thought I’d see the day."

"This isn’t easy," Nail admitted, eyes darkening. "You shouldn’t have to make this choice."

"It’s not a choice," Cepaea said. "It’s our duty."

A gust of wind passed between them, rustling the grass at their feet.

"We were born to protect Namek," Cepaea continued, his voice steady. "That is why we are here. That is why we trained, why we fought. And if my strength, my spirit, my life… can help stop this monster, then what else would I use it for?"

Nail’s jaw tightened. "Cepaea…"

His brother only smiled. "I trust you, brother."

There was no regret in his eyes. No fear. No resentment.

Only acceptance.

"Do it," Cepaea said. "Protect our people. Protect Namek."

Nail closed his eyes.

A deep breath.

And then, without another word, he placed a hand over Cepaea’s chest.

A brilliant light flared between them.

Their energies intertwined.

Cepaea’s form blurred, his body glowing as his essence flowed into Nail, merging, fusing—becoming one.

And when the light faded, Nail stood alone.

"Thank you, Cepaea."

—----------------------------------------------------------

[Escarot POV.]

How… was I still alive?

I laid on the cold, cracked earth, my consciousness flickering in and out like a faulty lightbulb on a dead-end alley. My vision blurred, fading between complete darkness and the hazy glow of Namek’s sky. The pain came in waves; one moment distant, like a dull buzz at the edge of my senses, the next, sharp and consuming, ripping through my body like fire.

But the question remained.

How was I still alive?

I forced my gaze downward.

A hole. A gaping, bleeding charred hole right through my chest, big enough to fit a damn fist through, maybe two if you had tiny hands. The edges of the wound still smoldered, my flesh burned away.

And yet… I was still here.

Barely. Questionably.

Breathing was hard. More than hard. And by all means, it should've been impossible, from a biological standpoint. Each shallow inhale rattled inside me, like something was missing. Which… probably wasn’t far from the truth.

My heart was still beating, though weakly. So Slug had missed it, maybe on purpose. But my lungs? Or at least one of them was probably gone. And weren’t lungs supposed to be important? Kind of necessary for the whole “staying alive” thing?

My body twitched as another jolt of pain burned through me, muscles spasming.

My ki was dipping lower and lower, flickering like a candle struggling not to go out.

Distantly, I could feel the clash of power, the fight— as Nail faced Slug.

I focused, pushing past the haze of pain, and felt his energy, his power being higher than ever before.

So I was right.

He fused.

Had to have. It was the only explanation. He must’ve merged with one of his brothers. Maybe two. His ki felt… different. Much larger. But still, compared to Slug, he was struggling just as much as I had.

Shit.

I wanted to help. I needed to help.

But I couldn’t even lift a damn finger.

My tail twitched weakly against the dirt, the only movement I could manage as a sharp breath left me, more of a rasp than anything else to be honest. My body was shutting down. I knew that. I could feel it. Slowly but surely, my body would… go out.

And yet…

I was still here.

Still alive.

Honestly, how the hell was I still alive?

How durable was I?

I should be dead.

Any other species would be. My body should’ve shut down by now. My brain should’ve stopped functioning. And yet, here I was. Lying in the dirt, gasping through half a lung, my blood pooling beneath me.

I knew Saiyans were durable. But this was beyond expectations.

My fingers twitched. Not much, but enough to tell me something; something deep inside me refused to let go. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was sheer Saiyan stubbornness, but some part of me—some raw, primal part—was still clinging to life, still fighting.

Even when my body was screaming at me to stop.

Even when logic told me I was done.

Saiyans weren’t supposed to fear death.

But for the first time… I wasn’t sure if I was fighting because I wanted to live.

Or because I refused to lose.

Maybe both were the same? And I had lost so much blood I couldn’t tell the difference.

Damn it.

I should’ve whistled.

The thought slammed into my head out of nowhere, cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion like a bad joke.

I… I had completely forgotten about that.

I let out a weak, gurgling breath—maybe a laugh, maybe a cough. Hard to tell at this point.

I had been so focused on fighting him head-on, on pushing past my limits, on using every ounce of strength I had—but that wasn’t the only way I could’ve fought him.

Whistling.

A sound so simple, so stupidly easy, and yet, in the movie, it had hurt him more than any punch. I didn’t remember all the details, but I did remember that much. Something about the frequency, how Namekian ears were super sensitive to high-pitched sounds.

And I hadn’t even thought about trying it.

I was an idiot.

A fucking idiot.

Though to be fair… I didn’t remember this until now. Maybe it was one of those near death epiphanies people had?

I think….

I am actually dying…

Closing my eyes, I felt my head drop. Hoping that I would open my eyes once more.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay. So, good news—I wasn’t dead. I had fallen unconcious for a tiny bit.

Bad news—I probably should be. If the amount of blood around me was anything to go by, I should be dead… or Saiyans produced more blood than humans, and my knowledge of biology was useless.

Worse news—Okara was here.

And from the way she skidded to a stop and gawked at me, I could already tell she was about to say something real helpful.

“What the actual hell!?” she yelled, staring at me like I was some kind of mutant freak.

I would’ve shrugged if, you know, I had the ability to move.

“Hey,” I rasped. “Good to see you too.”

Would you look at that, I can talk now. We are making progress!

She ignored that, stomping closer, her tail lashing behind her. “You’re not dead!?”

I tried to give her a smirk, but it probably looked more like a pained grimace. “Nah. Thought about it. Didn’t take.”

Okara blinked. “But… look at you!”

“Oh, I have,” I muttered. “Big hole. Lots of blood. Not my best day.”

The Namekian landed a second later, much quieter, much tinier, and much more serious. His gaze swept over me, and I could feel him trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“His wounds are severe,” he said, crouching down. “It’s a miracle he’s still breathing.”

“Pfft. We Saiyans don’t die so easily, we are tough!” Okara scoffed, waving him off. “He’s fine.”

I let out something that might have been a laugh, but ended up sounding more like a dying cat. “Yeah. Totally fine. Just a flesh wound, I just need to sleep it off.”

The Tiny Namekian frowned. “There is a hole in your chest.”

“Details.”

Okara crouched next to me, her sharp eyes scanning my injuries like she was personally offended by how bad they were. “Damn. You really do look awful.”

“Wow. Thanks,” I muttered. “I feel so much better now.”

She snorted, crossing her arms. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Debatable.”

The Namekian exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to decide whether to take this seriously or just let me die on the spot. “You shouldn’t be conscious right now.”

“Yeah.”

Okara shook her head. “Seriously, what kind of freakish Saiyan body do you have? You’ve got a gaping hole in your chest, and somehow, you’re still cracking jokes.”

The Namekian, meanwhile, rubbed his temples, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. “This is ridiculous. I’m not sure I can help with this.”

“Lovely,” I wheezed, “Can you please move my tail though… I’ve been stepping on it for a while.”

I could feel the edges of my consciousness slipping again, but I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay awake. If I passed out now, I wasn’t sure I’d wake up again.

So instead, I focused on what I could do. Which, at this point, was apparently annoying Okara as much as possible.

I tilted my head toward her. “So, what brings you here? Sightseeing?”

She rolled her eyes. “Saving your dumb ass, obviously.”

“Oh. So that’s why I’m still alive. I knew something felt off.”

“You’re so lucky you’re injured, or I’d kick your teeth in.”

I grinned. Or at least, I tried to. “Try it. You might win, though…. I think Slug already did most of the work for you.”

Okara’s expression twitched, her tail lashing out behind her, like she couldn’t decide whether to punch me or not.

The Namekian sighed, pressing his palm against his forehead. "I can try to heal you."

I blinked. "Try?"

Okara nodded. "Yeah, he kept screaming he was a newbie, when I took him from his home."

The small Namekian shot her an irritated look. "I started my training two weeks ago!"

I stared. "…Okara, did you kidnap a child?"

"No!"

The Namekian raised a hand. "Technically yes."

"HEY!"

I fought the urge to laugh—which, considering my current state, was less about self-control and more about I like having ribs inside me.

"Alright," I wheezed, glancing at the kid. "And you’re sure you can do this?"

The small namekian hesitated. "…I think so? I have healed some fish, and crabs…"

I squinted. "That’s not reassuring."

"Well, do you want to die?" Okara snapped.

"Kind of on the fence about it, honestly."

Of all the Namekians she could’ve kidnapped, she took the one with no experience.

The Namekian sighed and knelt beside me. "Hold still."

"Not a problem."

He pressed his hands just above my wound, his fingers trembling slightly as a soft green glow flickered to life. The warmth spread slowly, tingling at first, then seeping into my skin like a small wave of relief.

Okay. This wasn’t so bad.

Maybe I wouldn’t die after all.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Third Person POV.]

[Nail Vs Slug.]

Far away from Escarot, Nail and Slug clashed.

The old Namekian moved with terrifying speed, closing the gap in an instant. Nail met the first strike with his left forearm, muscles tensing as the force of the blow sent a shockwave through his body. Slug followed up immediately, fists hammering like a relentless storm.

Nail blocked the next two, shifting his weight just in time to deflect a brutal kick. He retaliated with an uppercut, aiming for the chin—only for Slug to leap back effortlessly, avoiding the counter with precise footwork.

Nail exhaled sharply, grounding himself.

Slug smirked. "Fast reflexes. I’ll give you that.”

Then he was on him again.

The assault came harder this time, each strike carrying raw, crushing power. Nail barely managed to block, his elbows and forearms absorbing the brunt of the attacks, but the force behind them was relentless. Slug pressed forward, every blow pushing Nail further back.

"You know," Slug mused, striking Nail’s guard with a vicious elbow. "You could become so much more if you joined me."

Nail gritted his teeth, not dignifying that with an answer. He saw the bait for what it was—a distraction, an attempt to chip away at his focus. Slug was playing mind games, trying to make him hesitate.

This man had defeated Escarot.

And he was the last line of defence Namek had.

He wasn’t falling for it.

"I would rather die," Nail finally muttered, parrying a rapid series of jabs.

Slug’s smirk widened, but he said nothing more. If the young namekian wanted to die, he was happy to obligue.

Across Namek, the battle didn’t go unnoticed.

The few remaining Namekians warriors watched from a distance, their expressions tense. It was their duty to protect Namek, yet they knew they couldn’t do a thing if Nail failed.

He was the best of them… and even after fusing with the second strongest Namekian around, he was coming up short.

Slug’s power was undeniable. He had aged, yes. His movements weren’t as fluid as they might have once been, but what he lacked in youth, he made up for with power and experience.

It was subtle at first. Like Slug was trying to make Nail believe he actually had a chance.

The occasional hit slipping through his guard.

The random clean blow.

Then a backhand across the jaw, or kick to the guts, sending a spray of blood flying through the air.

Little by little the old Namekian was tearing through Nail’s defenses.

“Are you seeing this Guru?!” Slug shouted, a demonic smile on his face. “Your children, your protectors, everyone will die until I get what’s rightfully mine! How much more blood will you have in your hands before you understand that?!”

Growling, Nail shot forward in a burst of speed, his fist aiming straight for Slug’s face. The elder Namekian barely moved, tilting his head just enough for the punch to graze past his cheek. Nail followed up immediately, twisting his body mid-air to deliver a devastating kick to the side; only for Slug to catch his leg effortlessly, swinging Nail like a ragdoll, hurling him into a distant cliffside.

The impact cracked the rocky surface, sending debris cascading down.

"Come now!" Slug called out mockingly, watching as the dust settled. "Is that all your strongest warrior, strongest son has to offer?! I expected more brother!!!"

From within the rubble, Nail gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. His muscles ached, but he ignored the pain. He couldn’t afford to falter. Not now.

Everyone depended on him.

With a deep breath, he charged forward again.

He appeared behind Slug in an instant, striking at his spine. The moment his fist made contact, Slug's body barely budged. The smirk on the elder Namekian’s face only widened.

"Pathetic."

Slug twisted, elbowing Nail directly in the stomach. The force alone sent him hurtling backward, but before he could even recover, Slug was already there, appearing above him.

A heavy knee slammed into Nail’s back, driving him straight into the ground below. The earth trembled upon impact, forming a crater beneath him.

"Even with the fusion, you’re still so weak," Slug mused, floating down leisurely. "Namekians have truly grown soft."

Nail groaned, pushing himself up from the rubble. His breathing was labored, but his spirit hadn’t broken. Not yet.

He wiped the blood from his lip and glared up at Slug. "I won’t let you have the Dragon Balls," he growled.

Slug chuckled. "Oh? And who’s going to stop me? You?" He gestured toward Nail’s battered form. "Your consent in the matter is not a factor, boy."

Nail’s fists clenched. He had fused with one of his brothers, the second strongest warrior of his tribe. He should have been stronger. He was stronger. But against Slug… it still wasn’t enough.

“The Saiyan gave more of a fight than you,” Slug continued. “And he died, like the worm he was, and you will follow him to hell in no time, child.”

He couldn’t win, but he had to fight.

Even if it meant death.

With a roar, he unleashed a flurry of energy blasts, lighting up the battlefield with explosions. But when the smoke cleared—Slug stood there, unscathed.

"What—" Nail barely had time to react before Slug was upon him again, delivering a devastating uppercut that sent him flying, before blasting Nail with a powerful attack that shook Namek to the core.

Nail gasped as he hit the ground, his body barely responding at this point. His arms trembled as he tried to push himself up, shaking, his strength was failing him. Every inch of his body ached. His ribs felt shattered. His vision blurred in and out of focus.

And Slug was still standing.

No, not just standing—enjoying himself.

The elder Namekian hovered above the battlefield, arms folded, watching Nail struggle with an amused smirk. "So much for the protector of Namek," Slug taunted, tilting his head. "I honestly expected more. Even from a fusion, this is just... disappointing."

Nail coughed, blood splattering onto the dirt. His breath came in ragged, but his eyes still burned with defiance. He forced himself back onto his feet, swaying but standing.

"I’m not done," Nail growled.

Slug sighed, shaking his head. "Oh, but you are."

In the blink of an eye, he vanished; only to reappear in front of Nail, his hand piercing straight through the warrior’s stomach.

Nail’s eyes widened, a choked gasp escaping his lips.

The world slowed.

He could feel the warmth of his own blood spilling down his torso, dripping onto the ground beneath him. His breathing hitched. His body refused to move.

Slug leaned in, whispering near his ear, "I will kill your father next, child."

Then, without warning, he ripped his arm out, sending Nail crumpling to the ground. The Namekian warrior barely had the strength to groan in pain.

He was dying.

Slug dusted off his hands, as if the fight had been nothing more than a trivial task. "Pathetic," he muttered. "But it was my fault for expecting more than trash here."

But before he could finish his thought, something shifted.

A presence.

A voice.

"Enough."

Slug turned, eyes narrowing as a large figure emerged from the shadows of a distant plateau.

Guru.

The Grand Elder stepped forward, his massive form moving with slow, deliberate steps. His gaze wasn’t filled with fear. It wasn’t even filled with anger.

It was filled with resolve.

"So," Slug smirked, "the great Grand Elder of Namek finally decides to show himself. Took you long enough. I was starting to think I would have to torture every single child here to draw you out."

Guru didn’t respond right away. His eyes flickered down toward Nail’s broken form. The warrior, his child barely clinging to life. It wouldn’t be long now.

Guru let out a slow breath. "I will not let you slaughter my children," he said, his voice calm, but firm. "I know why you’re here, Slug. I know what you seek."

Slug chuckled. "Then you know it’s pointless to resist."

Guru’s expression didn’t change. "I will give you what you want," he said, "the Dragon Balls... and your wish."

Slug raised a brow. "Oh?"

"But," Guru continued, "only under one condition."

Slug crossed his arms. "And what condition is that, brother?"

"You let my children live."

Slug stared at him for a moment, his amusement flickering into something more… intrigued.

"You’re in no position to bargain, Guru," Slug said, taking a step closer.

Guru didn’t flinch. "I am."

Slug’s smirk twitched. "Oh? And why is that?"

Guru’s eyes locked onto his brother’s. "Because the Saiyan you killed, used the Dragon Balls before you arrived… and the only one that can bring them out of the cooldown is me.”

Slug’s smirk disappeared. His eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

Guru stood firm, his expression unwavering. "The Saiyan you killed… he already used the Dragon Balls before you arrived." His deep voice carried no fear, only certainty. "And as you very well know, the Dragon Balls must recharge after a wish is made. Right now, they are nothing more than stone."

Slug’s body stiffened. His fingers curled into a fist. "You’re lying. You let a filthy Saiyan use our race's greatest treasure!?"

"Am I?" Guru asked.

Slug stared into his brother’s eyes…. And saw no lies.

Guru watched calmly as the realization settled over Slug’s face. "I am the only one who can bring them back before their natural cycle completes," Guru said. "If you kill me now, you will never get your wish, if you kill my children, you will never get your wish, so what will it be, brother."

Slug’s jaw clenched. His hands twitched at his sides. "Tch…" Guru had him right where he wanted… for now.

Guru continued, his voice steady, "I will grant you what you seek. The Dragon Balls. Your wish. I will restore them for you… but in exchange, you must let my people live."

Slug stared at him, his expression unreadable.

Then, slowly, a smirk returned to his wrinkled lips. "Heh… Well, well… You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, Guru." He took a step forward. "Fine," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Restore your precious orbs, and I’ll consider sparing the bugs that scurry beneath your feet."

Guru’s gaze didn’t waver. "You will swear it," he said firmly. "No harm shall come to my children."

Slug chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate, but… fine." His smirk widened. "You have my word."

Guru closed his eyes for a brief moment. A slow breath escaped him. "Then… it shall be done."

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