Piccolo on the Brink of Death

Piccolo, having lost his right arm, found his center of balance somewhat thrown off.

But relying on his powerful battle instincts, he forced his speed to its absolute limit.

Facing that blinding destruction ray, he twisted his body midair at an unnatural angle.

The ray grazed his ribs, leaving a charred burn across his side.

Piccolo ignored the pain, his charge only accelerating.

He closed in on Sphere God No. 1's blind spot on the left, gathering all of his golden Aura into his left fist before smashing it heavily into the seam of the robot's side armor.

This blow contained all of Piccolo's rage and strength—enough to flatten even a mountain.

Yet the enhanced Sphere God No. 1 had reached a level of damage resistance that defied common sense.

When the heavy punch landed, the dark-gold armor merely rippled once before channeling most of the force into the ground beneath its feet.

Sphere God No. 1 did not even sway as it swung a heavy fist backhandedly.

The enormous metal fist tore through the air and struck Piccolo squarely in the chest.

The crisp crack of breaking ribs rang with exceptional clarity across the open platform.

Piccolo flew backward like a cannonball, rolling across the ground more than a dozen times before barely coming to a stop and coughing up a spray of green blood.

"Cough, cough..." Piccolo supported himself with one hand and struggled to rise.

With a roar, the muscles at his severed right shoulder writhed wildly. Amid the teeth-grating sound of bone growing, a brand-new right arm burst forth from the wound.

Regrowing severed limbs was a gift unique to Namekians.

But every use consumed an enormous amount of stamina.

Worse still, the situation had changed in this battlefield saturated with Demon Realm energy.

The moment