Dragon Ball Roshi

Freeza's two subordinates with combat power of a million will destroy this world?

And I, am I the savior of this world?

Taro listened to the Holy Mage finish speaking, his expression unchanged as he calmly asked: "Whether or not I have the ability to save your world from those two is one thing… but why would I do it?"

The Holy Mage gave Taro a deep look and said: "Because the future I saw shows this: you will save this place, you will be the savior."

"But the future can change, can't it? If it can change from 'destruction' to 'salvation,' it can just as easily change from 'salvation' back to 'destruction.'"

Taro's tone was flat, his eyes equally neutral.

"But at least up until now, the future where it will be saved hasn't changed." The Holy Mage let out a raspy chuckle. "This shows I can convince you to save this place, and it also shows you have the power to do so." He then asked, "You just asked if those two demons look identical. Do you know them?"

"I don't know them, just heard about them." Taro shook his head, pausing for a moment. "They're a couple of troublesome characters… especially the one standing behind them."

The Holy Mage shook his head. "I know nothing about the world beyond the heavens... Let's stop beating around the bush." His pale, clear eyes, filled with wisdom, locked onto Taro. "Tell me, guest from another land, what is your purpose here? I believe... this is the key to convincing you to save this place."

Taro stared at the old mage for a while, then smiled faintly and said softly, "I came to…" He pointed at his head with one finger. "Make this place stronger."

"Then you've come to the right place." The Holy Mage smiled as well, turning and floating downward into the mountains below.

The seven colorful birds flapped their wings and followed Taro as they descended, following the Holy Mage down.

---

The magical planet was not always a magical planet.

Or rather, it was not always purely a magical planet.

Here, there were once two kinds of people: one was the magicians who had persisted until today, and the other... were the "warriors" who trained their physical strength.

The magicians prided themselves on their nobility, feeling superior due to their "magical talents," which they declared were "god-given powers."

Until the arrival of a warrior.

He was a powerful warrior. He possessed a supernatural power he called "Fighting Qi." He was incredibly strong, impervious to knives or spears, able to shatter rocks with a single palm strike, and shake the earth with a single kick.

One punch was all it took to kill a noble magician up close.

What the magicians hated or feared the most about this warrior was that his strength could be replicated!

It wasn't some innate talent. As long as you were willing to endure hardship and had strong willpower, you could gain great strength through the honing of your body. The best among them could possess the same powerful "Fighting Qi" as that warrior.

Like him, they could kill an unsuspecting magician with a single punch—someone who, by their own natural talent, could only become a magician.

They could not tolerate this!

The magicians, for the first time, set aside their mutual prejudices. They could not tolerate a group of rough, common people, the ordinary, the mundane, or the peasants bullying them. They could not stand that these brutes could all possess such strength.

So, they set out to eradicate them, relying on their carefully prepared magic.

Yes, the warriors were strong, but they were not without limits. As long as the magicians were prepared, it wasn't difficult to kill them. A psychic magician's mental magic might not be able to subdue a warrior with a strong will, but several powerful psychic magicians working together could easily sweep through a large group of warriors' minds, turning them into lifeless shells.

They could even use illusions to make the warriors turn on each other, use barrier magic to starve them to death, or transform into their loved ones and poison them...

The warriors were all wiped out, and the magicians survived.

All things related to physical cultivation were destroyed by the magicians. Any magic related to body modification was labeled as heresy, and anyone found researching or using such magic was immediately executed.

Gradually... the people of this planet came to know only of extraordinary magic, unaware of the treasures within their own bodies.

They became weak.

Ivan was born in such an era, with a frail body, and was baptized by magic.

"Now I realize I was wrong... They were all wrong. Without a strong body, even powerful mental energy is ultimately like a rootless floating weed, unable to last or reach greater heights."

Saint Magician Ivan, who had briefly introduced the history to Mu Taro, sighed as he spoke. "Over a hundred years ago, I reached my current level, but for more than a century... I've remained at the same level, with no progress."

He shook his head in regret. "The ancient magicians sought to abandon the body, pursuing spiritual transcendence... but they never understood that the body is the root of the spirit. Without the body, where can the spirit be placed? Perhaps... only the dead or mythical gods can achieve that!"

Seven colorful feathered birds perched on Taro's shoulder, silently following behind him.

Saint Magician Ivan led Tado along an ancient mountain path and soon arrived at a deep cave. Without pausing, he stepped inside. Taro followed, discovering an unexpectedly spacious and clean "cave dwelling."

"Chirp chirp..." The seven birds fluttered from Taro's shoulders and flew around inside the cave. Their clear chirps and the sound of their wings flapping echoed through the cave, adding to the eerie silence of the place.

Taro looked up to find that the cave's ceiling was at least twenty or thirty meters high.

In the center of the ceiling, there was a circular hole about a meter in diameter, leading directly to the sky. Sunlight poured through the hole, casting light into the otherwise dark cave, landing on a raised platform below.

The platform was about ten meters high, with dozens of stone steps leading down to the ground.

Ivan entered the cave, without stopping, and climbed up the ancient stairs, quickly reaching the circular platform. He turned around, looked down at Taro with a calm expression, and smiled.

"If you want to cultivate mental power, magic is the most suitable path. With your immense physical strength, I believe only you could take the path of magic to its furthest extent..."

The old man stood on the platform for a while, sighing in admiration, before finally smiling and gesturing to Taro. "So... come up."

Taro narrowed his eyes. As the birds flew several circles around the cave and returned to his shoulder, chirping loudly, he instinctively reached up to pet their smooth feathers. He then raised his head, looking toward the old magician on the platform.

He exhaled softly, then took his first step onto the stone stairs.

---

One step after another, Taro climbed up the platform, but he noticed that Ivan had disappeared. He furrowed his brow and looked around, feeling that something was amiss. He looked down and to his sides, only to realize that the seven colorful feathered birds on his shoulder were also gone.

Suddenly, his vision darkened, and the world spun for a moment. When he regained his bearings, he found himself, to his surprise, back on Earth!

---

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