Winning Respect

About six or seven minutes had passed, and the battle on the arena was still raging. After several rounds of fighting, Son Goku, Hit, and Mephia were all covered in wounds of varying severity. As their strength continued to drain away, Son Goku's Ki became even more unstable. Coupled with the burden of maintaining Super Saiyan Blue, his situation was the worst.

Next was Mephia. Even though the "Legendary Super Saiyan God" surpassed all Saiyans, she still could not withstand repeated heavy injuries.

Mephia's lovely face was pale as snow, her chest rising and falling as she panted without pause. Her delicate appearance was enough to evoke pity, but Mephia needed no one's sympathy. Her eyes still shone brightly, brimming with boundless madness.

Not far from the two of them, Hit kept stretching his fingers. They trembled faintly, and his strength had been greatly depleted as well.

"The three of them have spent about the same amount of energy. At this point, it'll come down to their endurance."

Chaya watched the match intently and had already seen through the condition of all three.

Thud. A dazzling flash suddenly flickered across the ground, and a perfect arc appeared on the arena. Hit accelerated once more, his movements elegant and beautiful. His illusory afterimages flickered several times, and in an instant, he arrived behind Son Goku.

"Pfft!" Hit slowly threw a punch, crystalline light glimmering at his fist.

Son Goku was on high alert. The moment he saw the direction of Hit's attack, his body moved naturally. With a tap of his toes, he shot backward in a horizontal glide, evading Hit's strike before rapidly pulling away. But Hit's attack was not over. As if time had been infinitely compressed, Hit suddenly appeared beside Son Goku again.

"Your match can end now."