Wrath of the God of Destruction 2

This was no mere high-speed movement—Champa had vanished outright, as though some invisible force had erased a chunk of space itself.

Kale's pupils shrank to pinpoints, Champa's enormous figure still leaving an afterimage as it melted into the air.

Every nerve in her body tightened in an instant. Her left heel instinctively twisted back as her waist spun sharply to the left, both arms crossing before her like iron gates—an instinct carved into her bones through countless life-and-death battles.

But Champa's speed had long surpassed something as mundane as "reaction."

A straight punch, simple and direct, blasted out from directly in front of her without warning.

There was no sound of breaking wind, no warning from the airflow—only the purple-black aura compressed to the limit around his fist, swallowing all light like a miniature black hole.

The fist struck squarely in the center of her crossed arms.

At the instant of contact, time seemed to stretch out—Kale clearly watched the armor on her forearms cave in before shattering into countless golden fragments, while the bones beneath her skin rapidly warped under visible ripples of impact.

It was not an ordinary impact sound, but something more primal and savage—a dull boom like mountains collapsing deep within the earth.

Agonizing pain shot through her body like high-voltage electricity. Her ulna and radius let out a teeth-grinding groan, and the tearing sensation from her periosteum nearly made her black out on the spot.

She had not been "sent flying" at all. It was as if she had been struck head-on by the warhammer of some invisible giant god, her body turning into a blurred afterimage as she shot backward violently.

The palace wall, forged from magical alloy and covered in defensive runes, shattered into rubble the instant her back hit it.

The wall burst apart layer by layer like a brittle cracker. Bricks, steel bars, energy crystals—all of it was ground into powder by the shockwave, while the billowing dust swallowed half the courtyard like a tsunami.

A deathly silence lasted for about three seconds.

Then came the sound of loose stones rolling from the pile of rubble.

A hand covered in blood and dust suddenly thrust out from the ruins, its five fingers digging deeply into the ground.

Kale slowly pushed herself up amid the collapsed debris, every breath accompanied by blood foam and grit.

Her battle suit had been reduced to strips of tattered cloth, barely hanging from her battered body.

Her exposed skin was covered in crisscrossing wounds. Some had been torn open by the rubble during the impact, flesh split and curled back as blood flowed without stop.

More of them were old scars deeply etched into her muscles, marks left by years of training. Beneath the dirt and blood, they glimmered with a dim silver sheen.

Yet not only had her presence not faded, it became even more violent.

The originally bright emerald-gold aura began to mutate at its core.

The gold slowly settled and deepened, turning into an almost liquid dark gold. The light no longer radiated outward, but contracted inward, suppressed and compressed, as though some ancient power had awakened within her.

Her long emerald-green hair darkened bit by bit from the roots, then began to move without wind, whipping wildly through the dark-gold aura like seaweed.

The muscles across her body swelled slightly. Veins bulged beneath her skin, twisting and coiling as they throbbed and trembled with every beat of her heart.

The rise in her power was no longer linear—it was explosively doubling.

Centered on her, the ground within a hundred meters began to crack. Rubble floated against gravity, hanging in the air as it shook and shattered.

At that moment, both Cabba and Caulifla, watching from nearby, felt a chill rise from the depths of their bones.

It was not awe toward the powerful, but the instinctive terror of creatures at the bottom of the food chain encountering an apex predator.

"It's not... over yet..." Kale raised her head and growled.

Her voice was hoarse and muddied, nothing like a cry produced by vocal cords. It sounded more like the low rumble of a beast forced from her chest.

Her eyes had completely turned molten dark gold, her pupils narrowing into two vertical slits. What burned within them was no longer reason, but pure savagery and killing intent.

"Kale..." Cabba staggered half a step back, his voice trembling.

He saw the air around Kale's body warping, the ground scorched by her energy until it looked like glass. "Her power... is still growing out of control?!"

Caulifla stopped struggling as well, her body bound by energy chains going rigid.

She had known Kale for more than a decade. She had seen her lose control and seen her break through her limits, but she had never seen a state like this—what churned within that dark-gold aura was a madness even Caulifla did not recognize, one bordering on self-destruction.

Kale bent her knees slightly as the deep-gold aura abruptly contracted, all of it gathering in her legs.

The next second, she pushed off—

BOOM!!!

This was not a stomp. It was an explosion.

Centered beneath her feet, a twenty-meter stretch of ground collapsed outright, forming a bowl-shaped crater more than ten meters deep. The earth along its edges surged up like waves before cracking apart.

Propelled by the recoil, her body became a solid dark-gold meteor. Wherever she passed, the air was torn open into a visible vacuum tunnel, hurricane-like turbulence spiraling along both sides.

For the first time, the lazy smile on Champa's face showed a faint trace of astonishment.

His pupils had only just caught that trajectory, and the muscles in his face had yet to react—

Kale's fist had already slammed into his left cheek like a meteor.

BANG—!!!

This sound was completely different.

It was not a dull impact, but the explosive clang of a ten-thousand-ton forging hammer striking divine metal, sharp enough to pierce eardrums, accompanied by the high-frequency shattering sound of colliding energy.

Champa's massive head snapped violently to the right, the fat on his face rippling under the shockwave. A scalp-numbing crack came from his neck.

His mountain-like body was actually knocked back again and again by Kale's punch. Each step drove half-meter-deep cracks into the palace's specially made tiles. On the second step, an entire tile shattered into dust, stone fragments spraying everywhere.

The plaza fell deathly silent.

Cabba's eyes bulged like brass bells, bloodshot veins filling them. His mouth hung open, yet he could not draw in a single breath.

Caulifla's jaw nearly hit the ground. She looked at Kale, still suspended in midair in the pose of throwing her punch, dark golden aura churning around her like a demon god. Then she looked at the clear, reddening fist mark on Champa's face—and the fleeting, almost absurd shock in his eyes.

The wind swept through the ruins, carrying dust with a mournful howl.

Even Hit, who had remained expressionless the entire time, was slightly moved. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly—an expression rarer than once in a millennium, like a fine crack splitting the surface of a frozen lake.

Champa, the God of Destruction—one of the supreme beings of Universe 6—had his round face, usually filled with arrogance, struck head-on by the fist of a Saiyan girl.

It had not brushed past him. It was not collateral damage from an energy blast. It was a solid, unadorned punch, wrapped in deep golden aura, smashing viciously into his left cheek.

The impact was not loud, yet it felt like a sledgehammer striking every onlooker in the chest.

Champa's head was knocked slightly to the side by that savage force, and even his plump body swayed.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment before he slowly—very slowly—turned his head back.

The initial bewilderment on his face was like a stone dropped into water, quickly replaced by incredulous shock.

Then the shock faded, replaced by a fury fierce enough to burn the stars.

His eyes flew wide open, his pupils abruptly contracting as an intense, unnatural purple flame ignited within them.

It was the rage that appeared only when the authority of a God of Destruction had been utterly violated and his dignity trampled underfoot.

The purple divine power around his body no longer flowed steadily. Like a furious beast of the deep sea, it surged forth in a wild, roaring torrent.