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Hanasia, Queen of the Saiyans

Written by Salagir

Adapted by Caihlem, TheOverlyMadHatter, hiace50 and Adamantine

This story takes place on the Saiyans planet, 1000 years ago, way before they are the population killer who put fear in the whole galaxy, in the era of King Vegeta...
If you ever wondered how these so powerful people lived as a community, if you want to know what was the fate of Millennium Warriors before Broly, if the adventures of a frantic and emotional fighter in a world of bullies tempt you, enter the world of Hanasia's saga.

Next page in: 17 days, 6h


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[Chapter Cover]
Part 3, Chapter 41.

You too, my son!

 

All the Saiyans were pushing against each other to see through the too few portholes on their transport ship.

— It’s night! It’s night above the sky!

— That’s actually normal. Light is also affected by gravity.

— But the sun has become so puny. Aren’t we getting close to it now?

— Don’t look at the sun!, a Tsuful yelled.

— But why isn’t it as bright?

— The… it… the sun is a projector… It sends highly condensed and powerful light, hmm, like a laser. And the air, uh… it filters the, uh… it distributes the light over the planet. So on the ground, the sun isn’t too painful on your eyes, but in space, you’d receive all of the concentrated light in your eyes and would go blind. That’s it. It’s not a joke, please don’t look at the sun.

— What’s a projector?

— What’s a laser?

— Just avoid getting your eyes burnt before the fight…

— We’re passing by the moon right? Oh, could we take the moon with us? Like that we’d be able to become Oozaru when we’d want at home!

— The moon is actually a lot larger than… hmm, actually it’s not on our path. And for the combat we will of course use artificial moons if necessary.

— On the way back, can we go fetch the moon?

— I uh… we’ll see then.

 

Several rebels were on the same vessel and observed with humor these aborigines and their questions. Others had preferred mounting aboard another transport ship, where they would have more tranquility and could concentrate before the fight.

— Bourgo, I’d like to talk to you in private, the rebel Tagarrion said to him.

They entered a compartment of the vessel and closed the door.

— There’s something I need to tell you about the spatial arena. I hadn’t revealed it, because I didn’t want a mass desertion. You are wise and I can tell you. If you think we should reveal it, I’ll abide. It concerns the last and most vital point of our war. We really can’t miss, you understand…

— Get to the point

— Ok so, hmm… I’m in liaison with the Demon Prince Snower.

Bourgo’s eyes opened wide and he readied himself to fight if needed.

— The Prince has helped the creation of the rebels since the beginning. No one is aware of this because he needs to be very discrete. But he is an ally!

— Do not believe I will trust him easily.

— That’s won’t be necessary for now. The important point is that he’ll help us kill Frosty and Blizzard. Our group attacking the palace will also receive aid. In any case, eliminating Demons will only help us. And Snower being the last survivor is surely the weakest of them all!

— And how does that help us on the arena?

— He planted a bomb. A very, very dangerous and powerful bomb.

— What is he waiting for to detonate it?

— For Frosty to be literally on top of if.

— I see. Frosty could flee and survive if he had the time to see the explosion. But what of the other fighters?

— Well, that’s an ethical problem… but it’s clear that none of us would survive unless we were easily one kilometre from the explosion… and run quickly.

— And you intended to hide this?!

— Master Namekian, I’m prepared to throw myself on Frosty and push him on the bomb if needed. My sacrifice does not frighten me. But I don’t think I’m strong enough for it. Only you or the Super Saiyan could in my opinion.

— How does this bomb detonate?

— Frosty just needs to be near it. If he’s detected, it explodes.

— Why didn’t you place it under his seat?

— Because there’s security procedures. To get such a bomb onboard, we needed many secret and complicated plans. It’s in an air duct in the corner of the arena, near the trash. It’s on the opposite of the motors and the living quarters. It’s the only place where we managed to override the security protocol under the pretext of an emergency, during the take off. I will describe the zone, it’s easy to recognise…

 

Chiin-Lee followed the progression of their ships and rockets leaving her and the planet. She asked the technician near her:

— Are we going to have a delay in the communications with them?

— No. Our communications use Sci-fi waves. With those, all the distances in space don’t mean anything.

— Good, as long as it works for us…

— Uh, I’ve the the list of plans in place and… aren’t we missing something? We didn’t embark our miniature atomic bomb on any of the ships?

— We don’t have it anymore.

— But, uh… why is that?

— Sir, a surely omnipotent God, who in any case can teleport himself, vanquish the Millennial Warrior, and read thoughts, ordered us to destroy that weapon. I know governments can be sly, but here, you see, we complied.

 

 

The terrifying and gigantic demon lifted himself from his seat suddenly.

The warriors of the court, as if by reflex, immediately ejected themselves from their position to throw themselves towards the furthest walls, ignoring the rebel fighters.

The latter, awed by the mouvement, were startled and for many made a step backwards. They too moved towards the sides, assembling into groups.

Yshar the right-handed and a rebel he didn’t know took a small detour towards Krämm. He opened an eye! The two pulled him to a corner populated by rebels.

Perhaps some other rebels were also still alive, but the odds were scarce. In this type of confrontation, few were left on the floor alive.

— The planet-trap was you: You killed your brothers, you wretch! shouted the Emperor pointing to his son, ever so small compared to him.

— Come now, I cannot be the cause of everything. I have no idea what is going on over there, but this situation that planet has created forced me to action. Or allowed my action. It was time someone cleaned-up this family. I’m doing my part.

— Little shit. I thought you smarter!

Blizzard wasn’t known to swear. It betrayed his immense anger. He who had thought he had created a family that stuck together, and now internal fighting was happening between Demons. In previous generations, that a son Demon kill his father, that was practically the standard. But here…! So sly! And so conceited! If this imp thought he could defeat his father simply because he was in his original form…

— You’ll soon find you lack five hundred years to defeat me, young brat!

All the warriors in the room stopped breathing.

The Prince bent his knees and threw himself onto his Emperor.

 

Snower launched himself towards his father. Without moving, the latter shot once more through his eyes a very thin double ray. Except that contrary to the previous shot, this one was continuous, and as it hit Snower at the trunk, without piercing him, threw him backwards, Blizzard continued following him with his gaze. The shot burnt the body during the entirety of his fall, and once on the ground, the rays finally stopped.

What a whiplash! Each knew that these rays had just produced a terrifying energy, especially over such a duration. In pure admiration of these Demons, the warriors of both the court and the rebels were now spectators subjugated by the fight, without the slightest signal of attack from the opposing side. The ceasefire was evident.

Snower got him brushing his shoulder, as if simply getting up from a campfire. His torso was blackened but if he felt any real pain, he didn’t lead on.

The most well-informed knew that his father was one or two reduction forms beneath his son. That and his advanced age, did he have the slightest chance? The Demons became bigger and stronger naturally as they aged. But for Blizzard, people thought he had entered the third age and had started regressing. The fact that he had remained in his seat for years and confirmed the idea. Was that weakness ever real?

Snower smiled and remained immobile. From both his eyes, also emerged a double ray heading straight towards the Emperor. Blizzard fired again, and the rays clashed quite close to him. He still had enough energy to fire again? It was incredible. And it wasn’t stopping. The two energies had reached each other since a few seconds, the choke-point advancing and receding depending on the force at each instant of the two fighters. It was creating some sort of plasma. The son felt overflowing with energy. He had difficulties not trembling from excitement. He concentrated himself and his attack suddenly shot forward. The plasma bubble climbed at high speed and raced towards Blizzard, who couldn’t react. The energy exploded on his face, pushing him back, destroying his throne that had though seemed robust.

The giant fell backwards, and above him his opponent, with an energy ball in each hand, immediately appeared. Snower didn’t intend on allowing his father to breath and sent both concentrated attacks to his bust.

Blizzard place his two hands in front of him and the double explosion made the whole palace tremble. The ground shattered, but did not brake as this room was directly placed on the foundations. The architect had thought that the throne room of the Demon might need to be resistant. Even though the impact created mostly dust and wind, no spectator was dupe. The energy had been absorbed in full force solely by the body of Blizzard. If they had touched the ground, the capital and its surroundings would be no more.

Snower hesitated for an instant. In the smoke, he couldn’t see correctly his father. Fire again? He hadn’t approached him and he had his reasons. He didn’t know how to fight well enough to handle close-quarter combat, he prefered any attack he could see from far.

A form threw itself at him. Snower didn’t offhandedly recognize what exited the smoke, it was only at the last moment that he recognized Blizzard’s tail. Like a perfectly mastered whip, the immense tentacule entrapped him, he escaped to the side, but a dozen metres of the limb had already forced themselves around him. He hit it, but only a part of the tail reacted, and the rest decidedly closed around him.

The smaller Snower was prisoner to this gigantic boa constrictor that wrapped harder and harder. The smoke dissipated and he saw the Emperor rise up from the ground, a large portion of his tail still unused, entirely deployed and floating around him. He had complete control of it.

The Prince felt the pain, but he could resist. If his father thought he could defeat him like this, he wouldn’t. Snower filled himself with oxygen and started pushing his arms outwards. The tail bent under his strength!

Snower saw the throne room swirl as he was now thrown to the ground. Blizzard hit the ground with his tail, sending Snower’s head first. The floor blew up in pieces. He then sent his son against a wall, then the floor again. These hits deconcentrated Snower more than anything else.He then saw he was now being shoved… towards his father.

Standing, his feet anchored to the ground, his fist arced behind him, Blizzard awaited him with a menacing glare. Snower clenched his teeth but didn’t succeed in liberating himself. He was rushing at an amazing speed… and the giant fist of his father was now rushing to him at a speed just as amazing.

The blow, in the middle of the throne room, create a shockwave that shook the walls around. His body pulled forward, his head pulled backwards, Snower thought his neck wasn’t going to hold and he’d be decapitated, which was the aim. He survived, though at that moment, he felt abundant regret. The punch crashed through his skin and hit the bones of his skull. His brain was compressed and he lost his senses for a short instant. Then his head found itself compressed between the fist and tail of Blizzard. The fist continued its trajectory, scraping him and taking part of his skin with it.

The tail finished its course against a wall behind Blizzard, then Snower fell to the ground, bordering unconsciousness. The Emperor hadn’t succeeded to keep him prisoner after the force of his own blow. Snower wanted to breathe, to massage himself, to counter the pain, but he didn’t have the time. He rose screaming, bursting with rage.

Pain! Damn did that hurt! And it didn’t go away, after the blow itself, the pain, which had diminished, was gradually rising… He could see, blurred, that his opponent had turned around and was running towards him. Obviously Blizzard preferred close-quarter combat. But his tail was shaking. Snower took flight in a leap to avoid a lateral tail-whip. Another part also hit. He evaded it but his arm felt the shot land. It was it, the giant was in front of him. Fixing one point, Snower flew at supersonic speed shaving the floor. He passed in between Blizzard’s legs in a flash, and braked once at the other end of the room. He didn’t manage to brake quickly enough and went through the wall, and then the next.

In the obscurity of a corridor, he took a breath. He finally had a fraction of a second to get his head together.

Blizzard did a one-eighty and charged. His tail followed like a badly handled rope that was suddenly tugged.

Seeing him, the Prince, who was trying to ignore the pain, readied himself.

He was fast, and powerful. Despite his young age, he had prepared himself to shape before the encounter. His father, however, felt the weight of the years on each of his movements. And two reduction forms separated them.

 

 

Even if he was hurting and felt weakened, Snower had to count on his transformation. He had to remind himself that he had more pure power than his father. Let him charge at him! His index pointing forward, he charged and concentrated and powerful ball of energy, around which traits of arced plasma whistled.

The unstoppable bull that was ten times his size was at the halfway point.

The energy bal grew in power, but not in size as there was no space for that. Nevertheless, Snower had more and more difficulties keeping it as compressed. If it escaped his control, that would be the end of this planet.

The most powerful Demon-God in the universe was now barely a few metres away from him, pushed by a berserker's rage, widening all the openings that Snower had created as he passed through them. He seemed uncontrolled.

It was time to launch the ball. He couldn’t hold it any longer anyway. Launch it and run.

The immortal and invincible leviathan was almost touching it and… but?

Abruptly, Blizzard had turned at a right-angle to throw himself against another wall. Passing the partitions like through paper, he was circling his opponent! His blind rage was a feint.

— Ha, you won’t get me! screamed in his head as sound would have been too slow, Snower, who launched himself forward while keeping the energy ball close to him, wrapping it with his other hand. It was starting to burn and he didn’t know what he was doing. At least, he’d soon be in the throne room. Here, it was tight.

Once in open ground, he turned around and sent his two hands towards the tunnel from whence he came. Blizzard would be there, thinking to get him. Where…?

Where was he?

Snower clenched his teeth while sweating. He wasn’t going to be able to contain the attack for long, too powerful for the control he had over his body. What had come of the Emperor? He needed an answer immediately:

The spectators held their breath. Some felt that the little energy ball would end their life, perhaps even the entire empire itself!!

 

The high domed ceiling suddenly cracked along its entire surface. Entire blocks detached, but didn’t fall, they all advanced towards Snower. Rapidly, the entire ceiling was closing around the prince.

Attacking with plaster? It was ridiculous! No… he understood that Blizzard was hidden behind one of the enormous blocks. He had to flee through one of them, and fire. But flee in which direction? And Snower couldn’t destroy with a small energy wave the blocks, nor could he telekinetically push them back! He was entirely occupied containing his Death Ball, whose prophetic name was especially going to apply to him soon!

Thankfully, thankfully…

Snower was a strategist above all else. And in reality, not all the spectators were passive.

Thus his allied, sticking to the walls like the others, who had a clear view from the exterior, sent him through telepathy the necessary information.

Snower turned slightly and sent with all his strength the energy bomb against a large block. It pierce it digging a perfectly neat round circle, given the obstacle was too insignificant to cause its explosion.

Blizzard’s body, on the other hand, had a quite different effect.

 

 

As the Saiyans continued slobbering over the view of outer space and wanting to touch everything outside the ship, Hanasia had steadied herself, in front of a small porthole in the front. He was frowning.

Bourgo approached to talk to her. He could feel her anxiety.

— You can sense the Demon, can’t you?

— Yes.

— Not many can. Frosty has unequaled power, we can sense him even though we are still hundreds of thousands of kilometres away.

— At least he can’t take us by surprise.

Does it even make a difference? Bourgo scanned the cockpit. No one was listening in on them.

— You cannot defeat him.

Hanasia didn’t answer. She felt the Namekian’s gaze as he waited for an answer.

— I’m much stronger than before. I’m like that, after a fight I’m stronger, and after I healed, I became even stronger.

— But that will not be enough to beat him. What’s more, you cannot transform into Oozaru. I’m surprised by the way, that my remedy didn’t regrow your tail.

— It will. Maybe even in the middle of the fight. Although normally it takes a few months to give it time.

— Are you counting on it?

— I’m counting on my fist through his chest.

— That’s not a plan that.

— You have another one?

— Yes.

Bourgo approached his hand to Hanasia and placed it on her forehead. She didn’t like these manners, but let it slide this time. Her sight changed. She couldn’t see in front of her, but another place, and was wandering without choosing nor where nor how. It was a slow displacement in a large area devoid of people.

— What am I seeing? she asked.

— This is the spatial arena, answer Bourgo. It was an answer she heard inside her head and that hadn’t been spoken. This is where we’ll fight. You see the lighted limit up there? After that, there’s no more air. It’s artificially held. Here, in this space, with trees and pillars, we’ll wait for our opponents. Over there, we’ll reach the motors. It would be good to destroy them, so the stadium doesn’t reach your planet. They’re protected by strong physical and magnetic shields. And now, around there… here, is something important… A bomb.

— Why is it important? It’s far from everything else, said Hanasia aloud.

— A bomb is a machine that explodes, continued Bougo inside her head. It was placed by our allies. If Frosty touches that wall, it will explode and kill him. However, it will also kill us all. If you push Frosty against this wall, it will be a sacrifice.

Hanasia turned towards Bourgo, brushing his hand away in her motion.

— I see. So if we can’t beat him, we can save the planet anyway.

— It, hmm… doesn’t bother you?

— If Frosty isn’t killed, he’ll kill us all anyway.

— You are pragmatic. I don’t like this option, but it’s unfortunately our only chance.

— Don’t tell the others, murmured Hanasia. They’d all try to push him against the wall and he’d understand.

 

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