Dragon Ball: Ascension

Ceror looked down at the communication device in his weathered hands, its metallic surface still warm from the previous transmission. The weight of what they were about to do pressed down on him like the twin suns overhead.

"Then use that connector to summon a Kaimo envoy," Karnel said, his voice carrying an edge of anticipation.

Ceror nodded slowly, took a deep breath that seemed to draw in all his ancestors' courage, and pressed the signal transmitter firmly.

"The signal has been sent," he said with newfound resolve. "It will probably take about a week for them to arrive."

"Since pressing this device, there's no turning back," Ceror continued, his voice growing stronger. "Let this be for the thousands of Bargonians who have died under Kaimo rule." Making this decision seemed to lift a tremendous burden from his shoulders, for the first time in years, he stood truly upright.

"A week to wait," Karnel said, cracking his knuckles with obvious excitement. "Perfect. That gives you time to show me what Bargon warriors are really made of."

"Karnel," Ceror said as they walked back toward the center of town, "we Bargonians have always revered strength. Every Bargonian is born with an unshakable will to grow stronger and survive, it's the law of the jungle that has guided us for millennia. Through thousands of years of beast wars and hardship, only our most elite warriors survived long enough to pass on their bloodlines. Their descendants inherited not just strong physiques, but an unbreakable fighting spirit."

Karnel observed the scene before them with growing interest. Hundreds of young Bargonian children, appearing to be around ten years old, were practicing combat techniques in pairs across the town square. Their movements were already surprisingly fluid and aggressive for their age.

Anticipating Karnel's questions, Ceror continued with obvious pride: "These children represent our tribe's future. They begin physical training at age three under their parents' guidance. By age eight, they're brought here to the main training square where our most experienced elders teach them advanced combat techniques and battle strategy. They spend every day sparring with opponents of similar skill until they turn twelve."

He paused, watching a particularly intense match between two young fighters. "You saw all those beasts surrounding our city when we arrived, didn't you? Those creatures are completely irrational—, he moment they detect a Bargonian, they'll chase us to the death without stopping."

"Thousands of years ago," Ceror continued, "some of our strongest warriors proposed wiping out every beast outside the city walls. But our wisest elders had a better idea. Instead of destroying them, they contained the most dangerous ones within a massive perimeter around the city, creating what is essentially a giant proving ground."

His eyes softened as he watched the young trainees, then turned back to Karnel with fierce pride. "When these children turn twelve, the tribal elders lead them outside the city walls for their first trial. During that trial, the elders won't interfere, no matter what happens. Only by growing strong through beast blood and surviving on their own merit can they earn recognition as true Bargonian warriors."

"Impressive," Karnel said, genuinely appreciating their warrior culture. "Your people are real fighters. Starting training that young, pushing that hard, then facing life-or-death trials at twelve, no wonder your adult warriors have such high combat effectiveness. That kind of strength can only be forged in blood and sweat."

Ceror grinned modestly, though his chest swelled with obvious pride at the praise.

"Come," he said, gesturing toward another part of the settlement. "Let me show you more of what makes Bargon unique..."

___

Meanwhile, in the cold depths of space, a sleek white vessel cut through the void toward the Bargon system. In the ship's command chamber, a pale-skinned Kaimo named Wright lounged in his captain's chair, the sharp horn protruding from his forehead catching the light of distant stars.

"Since the natives on that pathetic planet apparently can't wait to die," Wright muttered to himself with cruel amusement, "I suppose I'll have to accommodate them."

His tone suggested this wasn't the first time he'd dealt with "rebellious" planets. The crew members around him kept their heads down and remained silent, having learned that drawing Wright's attention was rarely pleasant.

"Set course for Bargon!" Wright barked suddenly, causing several subordinates to jump. "These primitives are actually eager to deliver themselves as tribute ahead of schedule... Lucky for me I was closest to that sector, or some other collector would have claimed this windfall. At the standard rate, I'll pocket ten percent of whatever we harvest."

Wright's eyes gleamed with avarice as he calculated the potential profit from an entire planet's worth of "tribute."

Back on Bargon, Ceror approached Karnel with a dozen of his strongest warriors in tow.

"Karnel," he said solemnly, "they're here."

Karnel looked up to see a flat-bottomed spacecraft descending toward them, large enough to hold several hundred passengers. It landed with mechanical precision on the open ground just outside the city.

The ship's loading ramp descended with a hiss of hydraulics, and Wright emerged with more than a dozen armed subordinates. His voice carried across the desert air with arrogant authority.

"Well, well... how refreshingly punctual of you this time, chieftain. Usually I have to hunt you primitives down." Wright's cold laugh echoed off the rocky terrain. "This time, your Bargon will surrender one hundred and fifty of your people. Refuse, and I'll reduce this entire planet to space dust."

Taking in the small group that had come to meet him, Wright sneered. "What's this, Ceror? Don't tell me you actually think you can resist the mighty Kaimo Empire? Just before coming here, I had the pleasure of obliterating another world whose natives got similar foolish ideas."

Ceror and his warriors stood tense behind him, their eyes burning with barely contained hatred as they stared at Wright.

That's when Karnel stepped forward. "So you're a special envoy of the Kaimo tribe, here for collection?"

Wright's attention snapped to the obviously non-Bargonian stranger, his expression darkening.

"Ceror," he said with dangerous quiet, "it seems you really have decided to rebel after all."

CRACK!

Wright never saw the blow coming. One moment he was standing smugly before his ship, the next he was flying backward through the air, his jaw definitely broken, before crashing hard into the rocky ground.

"I asked you a question," Karnel said coldly, flexing his fingers. "Are you deaf, or just too arrogant to answer when someone speaks to you?"

Wright struggled to his feet, spitting blood and teeth, his mind reeling from the impossible speed of the attack.

"You... you bastard!" he screamed. "How dare you strike an envoy of the mighty Kaimo Empire! Kill them! Kill them all! Leave no survivors!"

Karnel turned to Ceror with an almost casual expression. "Think you and your people can handle those dozen small fry?"

Ceror's battle-scarred face split into a fierce grin. "It's time to settle a thousand years of hatred," he told his warriors, then charged toward Wright's lieutenant with a war cry that seemed to shake the very mountains.

The real fight was about to begin.