Upon learning that the leader of the group that had saved him was none other than the renowned heroine Annin, the three-eyed, balding man straightened up with deep respect.
The mans name turned out to be the straightforward Sanyan(dSanyan), a crude name his mother had given him as a child.
"My name isn't important!" Sanyan waved his hand, his expression darkening as he asked seriously, "You said you killed all those insects?"
Yamiru and the others nodded.
Sanyan let out a pained sigh and closed his eyes. "You… shouldn't have killed them!"
Annin and Yamiru tensed. "Because of that mist?" they asked. "The strange vapor that came from their corpses—it really is dangerous?"
"But we didn't feel any changes in our bodies. It wasn't poison, was it?" The other fighters grew nervous.
After resting for a while, Sanyan had regained some strength. He fell silent for a moment before speaking gravely. "You must have come from another demon king's territory, so you don't know about the situation here, do you?"
The group nodded, and Yamiru glanced at Annin.
She sighed softly and used a minor telepathic spell to speak directly into his mind: "In my previous life, I killed the demon king here. Back then, the demons weren't insect-like."
Yamiru understood—Annin had wiped out the previous generation of demons here, but after the one-year resurrection cycle, a new demon king had taken over. She wasn't familiar with the current situation.
"The demon king here is called Abaddon," Sanyan said, sitting cross-legged with a bleak expression. "No one has ever seen his true form. The surviving humans here have had their share of warriors who tried to slay him… but none ever returned."
He paused before continuing, "I fled into the sky, hiding from those insects for days. You must think I'm weak or cowardly, right?"
The martial artists accompanying Annin and Yamiru exchanged glances. They had briefly entertained that thought—after all, in actual combat, those insects hadn't been particularly strong. Even the less skilled fighters among them could hold their own. Why would anyone need to hide in the sky for days, only to collapse from exhaustion?
But Yamiru and Annin thought differently. Being able to sustain flight for days, even with the most advanced techniques, required a staggering amount of ki. This balding, three-eyed man's restored strength likely surpassed that of every fighter present—except Yamiru. His avoidance of battle had another reason: the mist from the insect corpses.
Sure enough, Sanyan explained: "We've never seen Abaddon's true form, but we know the horror of these insect-like demons under his command. Killing them is easy… but when they die, they release that eerie mist. It's not poison—it's…"
His voice trembled with anguish. "It's a mist that corrupts! Inhaling it plants a seed in your soul. Even the slightest trace of darkness in your heart, even subconscious negativity you weren't aware of—this demonic seed will exploit it, eroding you until you transform into a demon!"
Yamiru finally understood why the mist had felt familiar.
Years ago, during the tournament at Fortuneteller Baba's palace, he had been struck by a technique called "Devilmite Beam" from a demon of the underworld. That attack forcibly amplified the darkness in a person's heart, warping their mind until they became a demon. Only someone like Goku—pure-hearted from birth—could resist it.
Yamiru hadn't been immune back then. Only his Golden Veil had saved him.
Annin might have inhaled some of the mist, but as Sherie's disciple and with the protection of the Furnace of Eight Divisions, she was likely unaffected.
But what about the other fighters?
Yamiru doubted they were as pure as his brother Goku.
True, the natural environment of this era was already saturated with hellish demonic energy, but it was diluted enough that only the weak-willed easily succumbed. The survivors—especially these martial artists—were supposed to be mentally resilient.
But this insect mist was like the Devil Beam—it drastically lowered the threshold for corruption.
Any trace of darkness in the heart could be ignited…
And these warriors, who spent every day dreaming of slaughtering demons—could they truly claim to harbor no excessive hatred?
Not even they dared to guarantee it. Their faces paled with fury and dread. This was how the demons stole their kin—how they rotted the world from within…
"Don't give in to anger!" Annin snapped, seeing their expressions shift.
Yamiru added urgently, "If you let hatred take over, you're playing right into the demons' hands! Even if you have to hypnotize yourselves—remember, any dark thoughts rising in your minds aren't yours! They're illusions provoked by the demonic seed!"
The fighters jolted awake as if from a nightmare, drenched in sweat, their eyes flickering uncertainly.
Sanyan watched them with sorrow. "There was once a warrior who killed these insects… A few days after returning to his village, he succumbed to the corruption and slaughtered everyone there." His lips trembled as he glanced at Annin and the others, but he chose not to elaborate.
The martial artists exchanged looks—then made a decision.
"Lady Annin, Yamiru… We'll part ways here."
Annin said nothing, as if she had expected this.
Yamiru thought to himself that this future Supreme Elderly Lord had a fiery passion for justice—but her heart seemed cold toward individuals. Perhaps countless lifetimes of experience had left her detached… and weary.
"We know ourselves. This time, there's no escaping it," the fighters said, their resolve lending them a strange calm. "It won't be long before we turn into demons. We'd rather you didn't see us like that—it'd be too shameful."
"Yamiru, no offense—but your transformed look isn't exactly flattering either! Haha!" One of the martial artists joked, lightening the mood.
"You might not necessarily turn into demons," Yamiru shook his head. "Even if... even if you do, Annin and I won't be killed by your demonic selves. You can rest assured of that."
"You're wrong, Yamiru," Annin said flatly.
Sanyan closed all three of his eyes and sighed. "They don't want you to be the ones who have to kill them."
Yamiru's expression shifted slightly.
The fighters merely smiled, their decision already made.
"We just hope to slay a few more damned demons before we turn into them! Now that we've inhaled that cursed mist, there's no need to hold back, right?" they said. "But without Annin and Yamiru, we might not be able to navigate properly… If we get lost and transform before killing even a single demon, that'd be too pathetic."
"I can provide a map, you know." A familiar voice suddenly spoke up from behind them.
They turned to see Sherie, the angel who had been absent for so long, standing there with a cheerful smile. She unfurled a map before them, and for the first time, Yamiru got a clear picture of the world in this era.
Tens of thousands of years apart from his time, the geography was nothing like the Dragon Ball Earth he remembered. Instead of scattered continents and oceans, there was only a single, massive landmass.
Sherie had roughly divided this supercontinent into five regions—four large and one small. Each region represented the territory of a Demon King. The smallest area, located at the far east of the map, was marked with a mountain range labeled Mount Five Elements—and beside it, written in bloody letters: Great Demon King Satan.
The other four larger regions bore the names of the remaining Demon Kings: Abaddon, Samuel, Birei, and Divo!
Yamiru compared the map with his own ki sensing, roughly matching the locations of Abaddon, Birei, Divo, and Satan.
"Weren't there supposed to be six Demon Kings?" Yamiru asked. "The map doesn't mark the last one."
In his perception, there was indeed an evil presence that flickered unpredictably, never settling in one place—likely the unmarked Demon King Sherie had omitted.
Sure enough, Sherie giggled. "That one's called Demon King Dimon—he's Divo's brother! But he prefers to act alone, without territory or demon underlings. He's… not an easy opponent. Want me to tell you more?"
"No need." Annin, true to her cold nature, cut her off. Yamiru couldn't help but feel a flicker of doubt. "If we can't even handle someone like that, we stand no chance against Satan."
Sherie pressed a finger to her lips. "Suit yourselves~"
"Hey, hey—you're really planning to challenge Abaddon?!" Sanyan finally caught on, alarmed. "Just forget it! You've seen how terrifying even his insect minions are—how much worse must he be? We've already lost too many strong warriors. Don't throw your lives away! Wouldn't it be better to stay alive and protect your loved ones? Without you, your homes will be overrun by demons soon enough!"
"If we don't kill all the Demon Kings, this world will be swallowed by demons sooner or later anyway," Annin replied indifferently. Yamiru glanced at her.
"Tch!" Seeing he couldn't persuade them, Sanyan gave up. He squinted at the map. "Wait, why is Samuel's name crossed out?"
The departing fighters took the map, grinning. "Samuel's territory was where our village was. And the one who killed her? That'd be the great Annin standing right in front of you! Don't worry—no matter how terrifying Abaddon is, Lady Annin will take him down!"
Sanyan was stunned. Even in this distant land, he had heard of the legendary heroine Annin—but he never imagined she had actually slain a true Demon King.
With final goodbyes, the fighters vanished into the dim horizon, setting off ahead.
"And you two? Did you come here just to die?" Sanyan muttered as he watched their retreating figures. "What idiots… Then again, in this day and age, only idiots can live with their pride intact..."
Yamiru asked, "What about you? Coming with us?"
"Hell no!" Sanyan snapped. "I'm not afraid of death—but I refuse to become a demon! Isn't that why we've struggled to survive all this time? To avoid that fate?"
'A complete defeatist.' Yamiru stopped pressing him, though he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. 'If only we had brought Goku along—that idiot would've been the perfect counter to Abaddon's insect demons.'
And so, the group was reduced to just three: Annin, Yamiru, and Sherie.
The oppressive aura of Abaddon was no longer far. As night fell, they stopped to rest in a cavern hollowed into a stone pillar.
Yamiru lay down beside a crackling fire, while Annin enlarged the Furnace of Eight Divisions and slipped inside to sleep.
"A firm defeatist… Seems Sanyan isn't the only one." Yamiru mused silently. "Annin… Has she ever truly believed victory was possible? If she's given up, when did it start? From the very beginning? Or after lifetimes of suffering and despair?"
Drowsiness crept in. Just before his eyes shut completely, he saw Sherie glide toward him, her face shadowed as she gazed down with a faint, enigmatic smile.
"..."
Yamiru fell asleep—only to snap awake later with a jolt, leaping to his feet!
He found himself in an entirely different realm!
No longer under Earth's gloomy skies, no longer breathing its stifling air.
His senses were flooded with ki signatures far surpassing Earth's—and in one direction, an overwhelmingly terrifying presence loomed. Its sheer power was no less than Uncle Bardock's as a Super Saiyan—no, perhaps even stronger! And unlike Bardock's disciplined, tempered energy, these overwhelming auras radiated pure savagery and menace, their owners clearly nothing like the righteous warrior Bardock had been.
"Yamoshi, you're awake?" A voice spoke beside him.
Yamiru—no, Yamoshi—looked down at his hands.
They were slender, delicate… and eerily familiar.
Grabbing a mirror, he stared at his reflection—and saw the face of Yamoshi, the Saiyan girl he had once met on Earth. The reflection's eyes widened in shock, mirroring his own.
'I hope this works…' Yamiru thought, stunned that Sherie had actually agreed to help him. This was beyond what he'd expected.
"Who are you?!"
Yamoshi's voice echoed in his mind, sharp with alarm. She was clearly just as bewildered by this sudden shift.
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