Nezha vs. Goten

Nezha made his move.

There was no probing—the first strike was at full power.

The Red Armillary Sash transformed into a streak of red light, whipping toward Goten with such speed that it tore through the air with a sharp, piercing whistle.

Goten did not attempt to block it head-on; he dodged to the side, his golden aura exploding beneath his feet as his body instantly shifted over ten feet away.

The Red Armillary Sash missed its mark, slamming into a large tree behind him; the trunk snapped instantly, and the upper canopy came crashing down with a roar.

Goten glanced at the broken tree and swallowed hard. If he hadn't dodged just now, it would have been his waist that snapped.

He began to take this fight seriously.

Nezha's offensive was relentless; the Red Armillary Sash wove and coiled around him like a living creature, every strike carrying the force of ten thousand tons.

Goten had fought many people in the Dragon Ball World—he had practiced with Uncle Piccolo, sparred with his father, and fought Trunks countless times—but Nezha's fighting style was unlike anyone else's.

It wasn't a difference in speed or power; it was that there were no openings in Nezha's attacks.

Every strike was seamlessly connected, like a dance that had been rehearsed countless times—which, in fact, it was.

Goten used his newly learned Origin Energy perception combined with Saiyan speed to evade; he could predict the trajectory of the Red Armillary Sash before it hit him, but this prediction required extreme concentration.

The slightest lapse in focus, and he would be struck.

After a few rounds, both sides realized how troublesome the other was.

Nezha discovered that the boy's speed and predictive abilities far exceeded his expectations; his usual techniques for dealing with ordinary Heavenly Soldiers were completely ineffective against him.

Goten found that Nezha's strength was on par with Yang Jian's, but his approach was entirely different.

Yang Jian was steady, with every move airtight.

Nezha was fast, his combos pressing in like a violent storm, leaving no room to breathe.

Nezha's Wind Fire Wheels suddenly accelerated, his body turning into a blur as he appeared before Goten in an instant. The Universe Ring smashed down toward his head, and the power within him erupted at the same moment—not through Immortal Art, but through the instinct of a Saiyan's desperate counterattack!

Goten had no time to dodge; he crossed his arms to take the blow—CLANG!!!

With a deafening boom, the ground beneath Goten's feet shattered into a crater several yards wide, and he was driven deep into the earth.

"Urgh..." Goten gritted his teeth, his arms trembling violently. The force coming from the Universe Ring was too great—far beyond what he could withstand.

Under the impact of this blow, the Origin Energy and Saiyan energy that had only recently fused within him began to show signs of separating.

The golden aura flickered wildly, and the silvery-white Origin Energy fluctuated intermittently.

Nezha looked down at him from above, the Universe Ring still pressing down. "Is this all you've got?"

Goten's feet dug deeper indentations into the bottom of the crater, and his knees began to buckle.

But he did not fall.

He knelt on one knee at the bottom of the pit, head bowed, yet the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

It wasn't a bitter smile of defeat; it was the smile of someone who had found the answer.

He didn't even realize he was smiling, but Nezha saw it, and the movement of his hands paused for a split second.

"You know," Goten said, lifting his head, "that strike of yours just now... it reminded me of someone."

Nezha did not answer, but the pressure of the Universe Ring did not increase.

"My father—he's been beaten by people stronger than him before. He couldn't stand up every time, but every time, he got back up."

His knees were shaking, but he stood up anyway.

Bearing the pressure of the Universe Ring, he rose, millimeter by millimeter, inch by inch.

The moment he stood straight, the cracks in the ground expanded several times over.

"So, I won't fall either."

He didn't roar these words; he said them quite calmly.

As he spoke, many images flashed through Goten's mind—

The image of his father refusing to give up on Namek even when beaten to the brink of death by Frieza.

The image of Uncle Piccolo not flinching as he blocked Nappa's attack to save Gohan.

The image of Krillin standing his ground on Earth, legs trembling but refusing to run when facing Frieza.

Every person in those images shared one thing in common: it wasn't that they felt no fear, but that they chose not to be controlled by it.

The golden aura and the silvery-white Origin Energy fused once more the instant he stood up.

It wasn't a forced patch-up after being scattered; it was a tighter, more profound fusion than before.

Nezha's strike had helped him break through a bottleneck.

Goten's fist emitted a golden glow, and the space around it began to warp slightly.

It was a phenomenon caused by the Origin Energy and Saiyan energy being compressed to the limit within his fist—a true breakthrough.

Nezha looked at that fist and remained silent for two seconds. Then, he withdrew the Universe Ring and stepped back.

"Enough."

Goten froze.

"I didn't come here to kill you." Nezha retracted his Red Armillary Sash and Wind Fire Wheels, reverting to the form of a seven or eight-year-old child. "I came to see if the person who forced Yang Jian to concede was worth the Heavenly Court exerting its true power. You are."

He turned around—but did not leave immediately.

"Sun Wukong—he was in your position once."

Goten froze.

"Back then, he was also smashed into the ground by a single strike from my Universe Ring—"

Nezha's footsteps faltered. He did not look back. His voice was very low, so low that only Goten could hear it.

"—but after he stood back up, he punched me. That was the first time I had ever been struck by anyone."

He stepped onto his Wind Fire Wheels and vanished into the distance as a streak of fire.

Goten stood where he was, covered in wounds—but he understood.

Nezha had not come to fight him on behalf of the Heavenly Court; he had come to confirm one thing—to confirm whether this youth and that monkey surnamed Sun from long ago were the same kind of person.

He had finished his confirmation. The answer—had satisfied him.