The Trial of God

Beerus was actually shorter than Broly, but when he looked up, his golden eyes locked directly onto Broly, and his aura instantly intensified.

It was hard not to feel as if he were looking down on the other.

Beerus spoke slowly, his voice cool and distinct, "Universe 7 needs warriors. If you have the ability, then you must participate in the Tournament of Power. This isn't a negotiation; it's your duty and the meaning of your existence."

As he said this, the corners of his mouth curled into a chilling smile, devoid of warmth and filled with naked menace.

"But if you're useless—"

Beerus raised his hand, his index finger gently pointing toward Broly's chest.

His fingertip didn't make contact, yet the skin on Broly's chest stung as if sliced by a blade.

"Then there is no need for you to remain alive. The primary duty of a God of Destruction is to clear out the trash in the universe."

No sooner had Beerus finished speaking than a terrifying divine pressure erupted from his lean frame, like an ancient beast suddenly awakening.

That pressure was no mere aura; it felt like countless invisible giant hammers slamming into Broly from every direction.

"BOOM—CRACKLE!"

With Beerus at the center, the already scorched and hardened ground of Vampa shattered instantly like glass.

Deep fissures spread rapidly, resembling a black spiderweb, consuming everything in their path.

The charred earth crumbled, and rocks and dust were blasted into the air by an invisible force, only to be ground into fine powder under even greater pressure.

The air became viscous, and every breath felt like it was tearing his lungs apart.

Light distorted, and space itself began to emit a faint, teeth-aching hum.

The entire planet seemed to let out a low moan under the casual release of Beerus's might.

Broly's shoulders sank heavily, as if a mountain were pressing down on him.

The ground beneath him collapsed, his feet sinking into the cracked, scorched earth up to his ankles, and the dust he kicked up was crushed back into the ground by the pressure before it could even rise.

His upper-body armor emitted a faint "creak," and the veins on his exposed skin bulged as his muscles tensed, straining with all his might to resist the pressure capable of shattering an ordinary planet.

Yet his spine remained as straight as rock, his waist unyielding.

Only his heavy, ragged breathing, carrying heat, escaped from between his clenched teeth, carving two white streaks into the stagnant air.

"Oh?"

The laziness and mockery in Beerus's eyes vanished, replaced by an increasingly intense curiosity and interest.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows arching like cat whiskers.

"Interesting... truly interesting. There haven't been many mortals in all these years who could stand firm without collapsing under my pressure while only sinking into the ground."

Broly, who had been keeping his head lowered, slowly raised it.

The originally wild eyes beneath his disheveled hair now possessed a chilling, sharp edge.

A flicker of emerald light flashed deep within his pupils; though it hadn't fully erupted, it already radiated a dangerous, feral energy.

His voice was hoarse yet clear, every word squeezed out from his chest: "Are you... testing me?"

"Testing?" Beerus shrugged, his movements casual yet carrying the cold indifference of one who ruled over everything.

"You could put it that way. Though, I prefer to call it—weeding out."

He deliberately drew out the end of his sentence, his gaze sweeping over Broly's entire body like a blade: "Weeding out the insects that are qualified to stand before me, rather than those crawling on the ground."

With that, Beerus lazily raised his right hand, his purple-gloved fingers rubbing together with the elegance of someone plucking a flower.

But the moment his fingertips touched, a point of deep purple light suddenly ignited, instantly condensing into a peanut-sized energy sphere that hovered silently at his fingertip.

Though the energy ball was small, the moment it appeared, the already distorted space around it rippled like a lake struck by a stone, with visible purple waves radiating outward.

A presence more pure and extreme than before spread out—it was not mere energy, but the embodiment of "ending," "annihilation," and "returning to nothingness."

This was the power of a God of Destruction, the authority to end all things.

Whis, who had been watching quietly from the side with his staff in hand, arched his slender eyebrows slightly, a flash of realization crossing his purple eyes.

He made no sound, nor did he move.

He knew the God of Destruction he served too well—seemingly willful and temperamental, yet he possessed precise control, especially when encountering "toys" that piqued his interest.

The Destruction Sphere in Beerus's hand had actually been compressed and controlled to the absolute limit.

The "destruction" within was cleverly restrained; on the surface, at most, it would only blast Broly away and leave him with minor scrapes.