Benevolence

They were still walking, working, sleeping, laughing and talking, utterly unaware of what had just happened in the starry sky above their heads.

A moment that concerned the survival of an entire civilization had passed over them, and they knew nothing of it.

No one knew that a candidate God of Destruction had nearly burned his divine core to ashes in order to block that world-ending calamity.

Yet even the slight correction to the trajectory that he had bought with grave injuries—a correction that concerned countless lives—could not prevent a momentary opening from being left behind. For an existence of that level, that instant was already more than long enough.

"Fighting me, Beerus, and you still dared to lose focus?" The low, raspy voice carried the air of a cat toying with a mouse. Beneath its chill was a trace of barely perceptible approval as it suddenly sounded right behind Qi Heng's head.

Too close.

Close enough that Qi Heng could even feel the faint energy ripples stirred by the other's breathing, ripples that seemed capable of destroying all things.

The power around Beerus was cold as an icy abyss and hot as a supernova. Ice and fire entwined in contradiction, the pressure so overwhelming that it seemed to freeze one's very soul.

This was not killing intent, but something more fundamental—"erasure of existence." It was as though behind him lay not the universe, but a gaping maw, an ultimate void ready to devour everything at any moment.

Every hair on Qi Heng's body stood on end, and a terrifying light suddenly flared in his silver eyes.

He did not hesitate. Relying on his battle instincts forged through countless trials, he wrung another burst of strength from his grievously wounded body. His left foot braced, his waist erupted with the force of twisted steel, and his entire body spun sharply like a tightly coiled spring snapping loose!

But before he could fully turn around, that abyss of destruction was already right before him.

There was no time.

Beerus moved so quickly that he seemed to surpass time itself—both palms thrust forward, and the purple power of destruction in them erupted at once, transforming into a torrent capable of devouring stars.

That light was too dense, too violent, as if the end of the entire universe had been compressed into a single strike.

The purple energy was no longer light, but an almost liquid substance, churning, roaring, tearing through space and dragging jagged black cracks in its wake.

Every strand of light contained the terrifying power to detonate and then erase a star. Twisting and spiraling together like a colossal dragon of destruction, they blasted straight toward Qi Heng's chest.

There was no room to evade, nor any way to block it.

"BOOM—!!!"

The deafening collision was not sound, but the wail of space itself.

Qi Heng's body jolted violently, as though a burning galaxy had struck him head-on.

He opened his mouth and spewed a torrent of scalding blood. The instant it left his lips, it froze into a string of bleakly beautiful crimson ice crystals in the absolute-zero void. The next second, the aftermath of the destructive torrent swept over it, and with a hiss, it evaporated into a mist of blood that vanished without leaving even a trace.

His body flew backward uncontrollably like a meteor struck by an invisible giant hammer.

His silver-white aura had originally shone as brilliantly as a star, but now, under the frenzied corrosion of the power of destruction, it flickered violently, brightening and dimming like an oil lamp on the verge of going out in a stormy night.

At the edge where his aura came into contact with the purple energy, sharp sizzling noises continuously erupted. It was the sound of energy being torn apart and devoured.

Qi Heng could clearly feel a teeth-grinding crack come from his chest—his sternum had most likely shattered.

Every breath felt as though countless red-hot steel needles were piercing his lungs. The sharp pain spread through his nerves and into his limbs, and his vision repeatedly went dark.

"Qi Heng—!!!"

Champa's cry suddenly tore through the stagnant void, filled with anxiety and heartache that were nearly overflowing.

His plump body instinctively leaned forward. Both hands clenched into fists, his nails nearly digging into his palms.

On the other side, Whis slightly furrowed his delicate brows.

His gaze did not linger long on Qi Heng's flying figure. Instead, it slowly shifted to a blue planet floating in the distant, profound darkness.

The planet rotated silently, its azure oceans and cloud-wreathed continents serene yet fragile beneath the starlight.

Whis's expression became thoughtful. The usual gentle smile at the corners of his mouth deepened slightly, though it now carried an inscrutable meaning, as if he had seen an unexpected yet perfectly reasonable variable of interest.

"Just now..." Whis spoke softly, his voice as light as a feather, yet it reached Vados's ears with perfect clarity. "At the final instant, he forcibly redirected the energy eruption. He even used his back to endure the tearing of the spatial backflow... Was it to keep the aftermath from striking that planet?"

There was faint surprise in his tone, as if he had found a gear in a precision instrument that did not fit the intended design.

Vados fell silent for a moment.

Within the crystal ball atop her staff, light flowed, faintly reflecting the details of that lightning-fast instant—one thousandth of a second before the energy fully erupted, Qi Heng had used precision control that was practically self-destructive to forcibly gather the shockwave that should have spread forward, lift it upward, and direct it into the void above.

In doing so, his own defenses had suffered a fatal delay.

She nodded gently, her long lashes lowering.

"Lord Qi Heng," Vados said, her voice as calm as the surface of a lake, "seems to have a particular concern for the lives of the mortal world..."

She paused, and a complicated emotion flashed through her eyes—admiration, perhaps, but also regret. "Between his own safety and the survival of that planet, he chose the latter. Even knowing that doing so would expose him to Lord Beerus's full-strength strike. This..."

"Foolish!"

A sharp scoff interrupted Vados.

Quitela, the God of Destruction of Universe 4, stood with his arms folded. His thin face was full of naked mockery and disdain, and his narrow eyes slanted toward the direction in which Qi Heng had vanished, as though he were watching the greatest joke in the world.

"At this stage of the fight, he still worried about the lives of those ants?" Quitela's voice was shrill and cutting, like fingernails scraping glass. "Beerus has never understood the meaning of 'mercy.' In his eyes, destruction is the sole purpose, the supreme aesthetic. Anything that stands in his way—whether a planet, a civilization, or supposedly innocent lives—can only end in total erasure! Emotions? Compassion? Those are nothing but shackles that the weak place upon themselves!"

Champa's face immediately turned livid, his plump cheeks trembling slightly with rage.

He abruptly turned toward Quitela and opened his mouth, wanting to loudly refute him, wanting to roar that Qi Heng's choice was not wrong, wanting to declare that protecting those tiny lives was itself a power beyond destruction, a power worthy of respect—but when the words reached his lips, it was as though something had clogged his throat.

He could not make a sound.

Because what Quitela had said was a cold, cruel fact.

In this universe, where the Gods of Destruction maintained balance, kindness and mercy were precisely the most unnecessary—even most harmful—things.

A God of Destruction's duty was to ruthlessly purge decay, carry out destruction without hesitation, and preserve that grand yet hollow "balance."

They were granted supreme authority over destruction, but in return, were stripped of the right to empathize with mortal lives.

Being ruled by emotion or hesitating in indecision were fatal weaknesses in a God of Destruction's battle.

Beerus understood no mercy. That was why he could give his all, and why he was so powerful that he drove others to despair.

Qi Heng possessed mercy. That was why he had reservations, and why he was now swallowed by the torrent of destruction, his fate unknown.

The air seemed to have frozen solid. Only the faint crackling of residual energy in the distance remained, along with Champa's heavy, unwilling breaths.

"But," Whis's voice rang out again. It was still quiet, yet like a stone dropped into still water, it shattered the suffocating silence.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze seeming to pierce across the vast distance and settle upon that chaotic stretch of space where the energy had yet to fully dissipate.