As the light faded, the Frieza Force, which had once terrorized the entire Northern Galaxy, had been reduced to a legend in mere seconds.
The next moment, something deep within the wreckage ahead suddenly began to tremble.
Purple energy flames sliced through thick metal plates like blades.
Violent energy fluctuations radiated outward in every direction from that point.
The force shoved aside the warship wreckage for hundreds of kilometers around, smashing the fragments together and grinding them into finer metal dust.
Then, at the center of the wreckage, a towering figure slowly emerged.
Frieza had nearly doubled in height, and two thick black horns had sprouted from his head.
The white biological armor covering his body had grown even thicker.
He had entered his second form.
"You bastard, how dare you?!"
Frieza swept his gaze over the surrounding wreckage, then turned toward the man responsible for it all and roared.
Interesting.
Zhang Qi remained unmoved, studying Frieza with interest instead.
To his eyes, the internal composition of Frieza's body lay completely exposed.
Compared with Saiyans like Broly, who were driven purely by rage, the race known as Frost Demons had an absurdly high baseline at the genetic level.
They barely even needed to train. Simply reaching adulthood gave them a base power level ranging from hundreds of thousands to over a million.
But the heavens were fair.
A high floor meant a locked ceiling.
Saiyans could repeatedly skirt the brink of death to break through their limits, while Frieza's race could only release the seals on their power through transformations. Fundamentally, they struggled to achieve any qualitative leap.
The expression on Zhang Qi's face only fueled Frieza's fury.
It was undisguised, condescending contempt.
Just like the way he looked at the monkeys on those primitive planets—
Frieza's teeth ground audibly.