Chapter 111 – Fear Is an Illusion, Except Yours

The silence that followed was deafening. No one moved. No one spoke. There was simply nothing more to be said.

And then the Emperor laughed.

"Ohohoho," The cruel melody rang through the air, sharp and biting, as he slowly descended from the sky, his feet lightly touching the ground.

But as the tyrant indulged in his twisted amusement, not a single soul joined him in his mirth. The air hung heavy with tension, the kind that made one's skin crawl.

"Well, isn't this just quaint?" Frieza sneered, his voice dripping with venom as he moved closer. "One worthless pest after another, all gathering to destroy my grand ambitions."

No one dared to stir or utter a word; even Vegeta's earlier bravado had crumbled in the face of Frieza's overwhelming might. It was there in his eyes—the fear, the uncertainty, and, most glaring of all, the dawning horror that he was not strong enough. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned bone-white, yet, like the others, he remained frozen and mute.

Meanwhile, Frieza studied his hand, turning it over slowly as if it were some rare, curious artifact he'd just discovered.

"I'm calm. I'm actually calm. Quite a peculiar sensation, really—to be so enraged that it circles back to calm."

But this calmness Frieza spoke of was but a brittle veneer. Frieza's body was taut, his stance coiled, like a serpent ready to strike. His energy fluctuated wildly, utterly unable to hide the undercurrent of barely restrained fury that any amateur with Ki sense could easily detect.

As Frieza turned his gaze toward the gathered fighters, a shudder seemed to ripple through them. Frieza took a single step forward, and although there was nothing particularly menacing about that movement—no grand flourish, no explosive display of strength—everyone instinctively edged back, retreating in unison.

To an ordinary person, Frieza's final form's small stature might have appeared unassuming—less iconic than his first, less imposing than his second, and less horrifying than his third. To them, this version of Frieza might not have appeared threatening at all.

But to a seasoned warrior, every fiber of their being would scream to run, to flee, as prey does before a predator. A wise fighter, one who danced often on the edge between life and death, might even resign themselves to their fate, knowing that the shadow of death had already marked them with its icy touch.

The Z Fighters, however, were all that and more. With their ability to sense Ki, they could directly perceive the vast chasm of power between themselves and their adversary. They didn't even need to concentrate their senses—Frieza's energy blazed like a star, its intensity impossible to miss or ignore.

It was as if a supernova had erupted before them, flooding their senses and drowning out everything else in existence. They could barely sense one another, unable to focus on anything but the malevolent force that enveloped them.

A flicker of panic sparked in their hearts, an ember igniting into the roaring flame of dread. And in that moment, they all arrived at the same, dreadful conclusion: they might be well and truly fucked.

Frieza's lips twisted into a predatory smile. "Oh, how adorable," he sneered. "You aren't running. You all genuinely believe you have a chance."

But the Galactic Emperor's amusement evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.

"Shall I grant you a swift death? No, no, that would be far too kind for the likes of you. Oh no~. I intend to kill you all—very, very slowly. I will savor every second of your agony, dragging you through the depths of suffering until you're drowning in your own despair. And when you're shattered, groveling on your knees, prostrating, and begging for the sweet mercy of death—that is when I will grant you permission to die!"

Frieza took another step forward, his movements measured and deliberate. Despite the venom of his words, his hands moved to clasp behind his back, and he wore a practiced, polite smile—one that never reached his eyes. It was a smile that hinted at civility but failed to hide the razor-sharp edges of cruelty lurking just beneath the surface.

Though he maintained an outward display of gentlemanly composure, the raw malevolence radiating from him was suffocating. The bloodlust was so concentrated that it seemed to wisp off his very skin as a faint, crimson mist.

Frieza strode forward, advancing with the calm confidence of a predator that knew its prey was already caught. Each step felt like the ticking of an unseen clock, and instinctively, the others edged back, fanning out to form a wary semi-circle.

Frieza's gaze swept over them with a detached, almost indifferent curiosity, like a scientist examining insects pinned to a board. One by one, he coolly scrutinized them, dissecting, analyzing—until his eyes settled on a familiar face. For a brief moment, his expression shifted ever so subtly with annoyed surprise.

"Captain Ginyu," Frieza addressed with frigid courtesy, "might I ask what exactly it is you think you are doing? Are you truly convinced their offer justifies the sheer foolishness of opposing me? Because I assure you, there are far more efficient methods of committing suicide."

"I'm done taking orders from you, Frieza!"

Frieza didn't respond immediately. Instead, he inclined his head, studying Ginyu with a strange expression, his eyes narrowing as they examined every inch of the purple warrior's form. The silence stretched, each second ratcheting the tension tighter until Frieza's lips parted for a dismissive, indifferent observation.

"Ah… You're not Ginyu. It appears he botched the Body Change."

He exhaled a long, weary sigh, one that spoke of immense disappointment, as though faced with a child who had failed to grasp a simple lesson. His hand rose to his temple, fingers pressing against his brow in a gesture of exasperation. For just a moment, the tyrant seemed utterly exhausted.

Then, his gaze snapped toward another figure, and his demeanor shifted in an instant. His eyes sharpened, darkening as they honed on the Saiyan prince.

"Vegeta," Frieza purred, letting the name hang in the air like a noose. "Ah, yes, the 'Prince' of monkeys. Tell me, Vegeta, did you savor the moment when you ended Zarbon's life? Did it taste sweet? Was it everything you dreamed it would be?!"

By the conclusion of his statement, Frieza was practically snarling.

Frieza watched with dark amusement as Vegeta's jaw clenched, the Saiyan Prince's fists trembling ever so slightly at his sides. Even from this distance, Frieza could catch the faint glisten of sweat beading down the Saiyan's forehead, trailing along the widow's peak. But Vegeta remained silent.

"Oh, what's this?" Frieza's voice took on a mocking lilt. "No witty comeback? No smug little smirk? How terribly disappointing."

Frieza leisurely approached, his eyes pinning Vegeta in place.

"I'm curious, Vegeta. Did your father never warn you against provoking beings who could end you with just a thought? Or did he fail you in that regard, too? Ah! But of course..." A cruel smile spread across Frieza's lips, eyes lighting up with malicious delight. "He couldn't teach you much of anything after I killed him, now, could he?"

Still, Vegeta said nothing, and for a moment, it puzzled Frieza. He leaned forward, narrowing his gaze to study the Saiyan across the clearing, and then it dawned on him. His eyes flicked down, inspecting himself, and comprehension bloomed across his face.

"Ah, I see. This must be the first time you've had the privilege of witnessing my true form. Would you like a closer look, Vegeta? After all, it's not an experience you'll be able to repeat."

Frieza vanished from his position, swiftly covering the remaining distance and reappearing mere inches from Vegeta's face. He took great pleasure in the brief flash of panic in Vegeta's eyes as the Saiyan recoiled. But Vegeta could escape; Frieza's hand landed firmly on his shoulder, the grip ironclad and absolute. Frieza could feel the tension ripple through Vegeta's muscles as the Saiyan instinctively attempted to pull away, only to find himself completely pinned in place.

Frieza's senses registered the other fighters' movements, and a subtle flex of his telekinesis was enough to immobilize them all. It was so effortless that he hadn't even needed to turn his head. He reveled in their fear, his mocking smile widening as he felt their futile struggles against his invisible grip through his telekinesis.

His attention snapped back to Vegeta, and he leaned in just enough to dominate the Saiyan's view.

"What's the matter, Vegeta?" Frieza purred. "Are you overwhelmed? Cat got your tongue? Are you surprised? Or perhaps… terrified?" The emphasis on that last word was deliberate, each syllable slicing into Vegeta like a razor.

With exaggerated gentleness, Frieza lifted his free hand and lightly slapped Vegeta's cheek in a patronizing, almost tender manner.

"But there's no need to be frightened, my dear Vegeta," he drawled, his voice dropping to a whisper, as though sharing an intimate secret. "Instead, you should feel honored, because today you'll achieve immortality! I'm going to give you a death so exquisitely agonizing that your name will never be forgotten. The historians will speak of your end in hushed tones for millennia to come, long after your bones crumbled into dust. You'll become the ghastly tale parents tell their children to keep them obedient. Isn't that what you always wanted, Vegeta? To be remembered?"

With that, Frieza straightened up and withdrew his hand. He made a show of wiping off the sweat against Vegeta's armor, the high-pitched squeak of the motion cutting through the silence. Then, without sparing another backward glance, Frieza turned and walked away, dismissing the Saiyan prince as if he no longer mattered.

"I... I am the... the le-legendary... Suu, Suu..." Vegeta's voice rasped out, barely more than a whisper. Each word seemed to require every ounce of his strength to utter.

Frieza paused mid-step, his tail giving the faintest twitch. He glanced back over his shoulder, just enough for one crimson eye to gleam mockingly onto Vegeta.

"Oh, spare me. You and I both know you're not the Super Saiyan. Why bother lying when you can't even convince yourself?"

Frieza continued his stroll, utterly indifferent to the fact that he was turning his back on his enemies. His movements were unhurried, as if he were taking a leisurely walk rather than being surrounded by foes. But even so, not a single Z Fighter dared to make a move.

Then, in a flash, Frieza vanished—only to reappear in his original spot, tens of meters away, still standing with his back toward them. Frieza's hands folded neatly behind his back, and somehow, that relaxed stance was far more menacing than any combat posture ever could have been.

"I hope you're all very proud of yourselves."

Though Frieza couldn't see it, his unexpected words jolted everyone from their stupor, as if they'd been slapped back to reality.

"You've achieved something truly remarkable today," he continued, bitterness seeping into every syllable. "You're the first to genuinely disrupt my plans, thoroughly destroy my army, and force my hand in such a distasteful manner. Except for that slug, you're the first to see this form too—the one my father commanded me never to reveal." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Because whenever I did... I couldn't help but break everything—and everyone—in my way."

A dry, mirthless chuckle escaped him, devoid of any humor, laced instead with cold, simmering fury.

"So, congratulations. You insufferable lot and that wretched Namekian have successfully ruined my ambitions. But I trust you've prepared yourselves to face the consequences of your foolishness, because now it's time to fully experience the horror you've unleashed upon yourselves. But make no mistake—you have no idea what you've just awakened!"

The tension mounted, reaching a fever pitch. The very air thickened, as if the battlefield itself were holding its breath in anticipation of the violence about to unfold.

But Frieza remained still, hands still clasped behind his back. His posture hadn't changed, but somehow, it radiated an even greater threat. Then, without turning, he spoke once more, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The foundation of every masterpiece begins with a single stroke," Frieza mused, revealing only a single, murderous eye as he cast a sidelong glance over his shoulder. "I can't help but wonder what kind of masterpiece I can create with your blood."

With that, Frieza turned to face the Z Fighters fully. He took one measured step forward, and then, without warning, the battle began.

Frieza blurred from view, moving faster than even Ki Sense could track. It was as if he'd simply ceased to exist, and before the Z Fighters could react, the air exploded with the sound of fists striking flesh in rapid succession.

All six Z Fighters felt the blows near simultaneously—gut-wrenching impacts that tore the breath from their lungs and sent them hurtling backward. They flew through the air, skidding across the unforgiving landscape, earth ripping apart beneath them until they finally came to a stop, sprawled out in various disoriented heaps, gasping for air.

Meanwhile, Frieza stood calmly at the center of the former semicircle, one fist still extended, as if he'd only thrown a single blow.

With a soft chuckle, he began to stroll forward, his tail striking the ground in an uneven rhythm as he rolled his shoulders, loosening them as though preparing for a relaxing day at the beach rather than a fight to the death.

"Come on now; is that truly all you have? I expected more," Frieza purred, his voice smooth as silk. "But alas, I only get to savor your deaths once, so let's make this slow and intimate, shall we? As a courtesy, I'll begin with a mere 10% of my power. So, please—try not to die too quickly."

The Z Fighters and Saiyans exchanged uneasy glances as they struggled to their feet.

In an instant, a telepathic network connected all six fighters, binding their thoughts together. Krillin, Gohan, Goku, and Ajax were accustomed to this form of communication, having used it numerous times in battles before. But Nappa and Vegeta stiffened, startled by the sudden intrusion into their minds.

'Ajax, Ajax, the plan, the plan! Please tell me you have a plan!' Krillin's frantic thoughts burst through the network.

'Work together, stay alive, spam Solar Flare, stay alive, hit him really, really hard, and most importantly, stay alive until Goku's main body is back!'

'Great plan! I'm all for not dying!' Nappa interjected with an unexpected surge of nervous energy, having adjusted to the mental link quicker than anticipated. 'And if I do bite the dust, somebody make sure I get an honorable burial. At least the head!'

Nervous laughter spread through the group. The dark joke managed to lighten the mood, if only for just a heartbeat. But of everyone present, only Vegeta knew that Nappa hadn't been joking at all.

Meanwhile, Frieza's unhurried pace came to a halt, his tail curling impatiently behind him like a serpent. "Well? Come on then. Would you all rather I begin instead?"

No one wanted Frieza to follow through on that.

Krillin's expression calmed, and he began forming two Destructo Disks, one in each hand. Gohan's hair stood on end as his energy surged, his eyes tracking Frieza's every subtle movement. Nappa, on the other hand, activated his Stormforged Mantle, electricity crackling across his body as he vanished in a flash of speed. Vegeta and Goku-Ginyu focused intensely, tapping into their maximum power, their auras blazing fiercely around them.

In their midst, Ajax closed his eyes, turning his focus inward as the thread linking him to Mushin began to glow with a faint orange light. When he opened them once more, electricity flashed from his eyes.

A silent, unspoken signal passed through the group, and they scattered in a split second, each warrior setting their own course to engage the tyrant.

Nappa was the first to reach Frieza, letting out a thunderous roar as he charged ahead. Pouring every ounce of momentum into his strike, he drove his fist straight into Frieza's cheek. But to his dismay, Frieza didn't even blink; in fact, Frieza didn't even bother to acknowledge the impact, not even by tilting his head slightly.

Without sparing Nappa a glance, Frieza's tail lashed out like a whip, crashing into the Saiyan general's stomach with brutal force. The impact sent Nappa hurtling through the air, droplets of blood trailing from his mouth and hanging momentarily in the air like grim confetti before they splattered on the ground.

Then, Frieza smoothly pivoted, easily sidestepping Vegeta's fist. A slight tilt of his head allowed him to evade Goku-Ginyu's kick as well. With arms casually folded across his chest, Frieza moved with effortless ease, weaving through the duo's combined attacks while wearing a mocking smile.

But suddenly, the air thickened, as if transforming into a suffocating mire of solid rock. Frieza's movements noticeably slowed, though it wasn't even close to being enough to prevent him from weaving around Vegeta's and Goku-Ginyu's furious attacks.

Noticing Frieza's movements slowing, Vegeta seized the moment and lunged forward with a burst of energy. He compressed his Ki into a tightly focused blast and thrust it toward Frieza's chest at nearly point-blank range.

But Frieza was too quick. With a mere flick of his tail, he casually swatted the attack aside, sending the blast to detonate harmlessly far off in the distance.

In an instant, Frieza blurred into motion, slipping between his two opponents. His fists shot out like lightning, one burying into Vegeta's gut, the other into Goku-Ginyu's. The force of the strikes was so immense that it immediately folded both Saiyans in half like ragdolls and sent them crashing into the ground, gasping as agony bloomed across their faces.

Frieza barely acknowledged them as he stepped onto them, then over their crumpled forms, striding past them as if they had been nothing more than insignificant pebbles underfoot.

Two Destructo disks immediately zipped toward Frieza. But with a faint flicker, he vanished, reappearing a heartbeat later, having effortlessly dodged both attacks. A hint of intrigue flickered in his eyes as he noticed the disks slowing, then curving around to pursue him.

In the distance, Krillin let out a shocked gasp—clearly, this surprised him too.

The thick, oppressive air continued to press down on Frieza but did little to impede his agility. He twisted with ease, narrowly dodging the first returning disk as it whirred past his cheek. With a flick of his finger, he fired a Death Beam, obliterating the second disk.

But, by this time, the first disk had already completed its second arc and was racing back toward Frieza once more. Unperturbed, Frieza turned to face it and caught the disk between his palms as if it were nothing more than a toy. The disk spun furiously, its flat surfaces grinding against his hands and the razor edges mere inches from his face, but it remained fixed in place.

As Frieza held the disk, Krillin suddenly yelled, "SOLAR FLARE!"

A blinding flash erupted, bathing the battlefield in a brilliant, searing light.

Frieza, ever the pragmatist, merely closed his eyes. With his vision cut off, Frieza's instincts took over—his tail lashed out, snaking through the air to wrap around a hand, while his telekinesis flared to life, ensnaring another from behind.

"Foolish," Frieza muttered.

As the blinding light dimmed, his piercing eyes swept across his surroundings, locking onto Nappa, who was suspended mid-air, trembling violently.

The Saiyan General's face twisted with exertion as every muscle strained against Frieza's tail, which had coiled itself firmly around his wrist, preventing any further movement. But no matter how desperately Nappa tried to force his wrists past that constricting grip, his hands wouldn't budge.

Frieza's gaze darted behind him, where a flicker of energy—a menacing but amateurish Ki blade—had been stopped mere inches from his spine.

It was unfortunate, but had Gohan been stronger or had Frieza not intercepted the strike with his telekinesis, the strike might have been lethal.

With a flex of his hands, Frieza crushed the Destructo Disk in his grip, the fragments scattering like glimmering gold dust. A dismissive palm strike sent Nappa flying and allowed Frieza to shift his full attention to Gohan.

In one fluid motion, his tail shot forward, coiling around Gohan's throat, while his hand clamped down on Gohan's wrist with crushing force. The pressure shattered the Ki blade into harmless sparks, and the young boy choked for air, trapped in Frieza's iron grip.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Frieza's gaze drifted toward the source of the shout—Ginyu, his face contorted with rage. The tyrant raised an eyebrow, mildly curious. With a flick of his tail, he hurled Gohan into the distance, the young Saiyan flailing helplessly through the air.

Goku-Ginyu charged, one fist glowing with energy, but Frieza barely reacted. He merely raised a hand lazily, catching the punch as if it were nothing more than a nuisance.

"ARRGGHH! KAIO-KEN TIMES FIVE!"

"Pardon, Kaio-what?"

Before Frieza could hear any explanation, a blazing red aura erupted around Ginyu's body, enveloping him in fiery energy. The ground trembled beneath them as Ginyu drove his other fist forward, amplified by the Kaio-ken technique. The punch collided squarely with Frieza's cheek, sending shockwaves tearing through the air, causing dust and debris to explode in every which direction.

Frieza's head didn't move an inch.

Instead, the tyrant merely glanced at the fist still resting on his cheek mildly before locking eyes with Goku-Ginyu. Frieza's expression shifted, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Fascinating," he mused. "How is it that you've grown so powerful? You wield the same body, yet it's far more capable under your control than Ginyu's, even before this peculiar technique."

Frieza's grip clamped down on the offending fist like a vice, cutting off any hope of escape. As the pressure intensified tyrannically, it drove Goku-Ginyu to his knees.

Meanwhile, Frieza allowed his mind to wander.

"When Ginyu performs his Body Change, the power of the body remains unchanged. If the body and its power level stayed identical, then the only possible explanation for drawing out this much more strength... His gaze roved over the battlefield, observing the other fighters with a predatory glint. "—is if there's a method to enhance and control your power."

Suddenly, realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. His eyes zeroed in on Vegeta, who was shakily pushing himself back to his feet. Frieza's eyes gleamed with a cruel light, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"Ah! So, Jeice's mutant ability to amplify power levels can be learned! How very… intriguing."