The Realm of the Gods of Destruction.
With Whis's permission, Gran had settled down there peacefully.
The next morning, Whis once again provided ingredients, and Gran prepared breakfast for both of them.
Breakfast was beef noodles—two bowls in total. One was normal-sized, while the other… was as large as a water tank!
The corner of Whis's mouth twitched uncontrollably at the sight of that absurdly large bowl.
Still, having witnessed Gran's bottomless appetite the day before, he didn't say anything.
As Whis ate, little stars sparkled in his eyes.
It seemed letting the little one stay in the Realm of Destruction was indeed the right choice!
Then, Whis suddenly remembered Beerus—and instinctively shielded his bowl.
Across the table, Gran slurped up a long noodle, raised his little head, and asked curiously,
"Mr. Whis, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Whis gave an awkward smile.
He'd gotten too used to fighting Beerus over food. Every time he had something delicious, he couldn't help but guard it by reflex.
Gran tilted his small head thoughtfully, then asked,
"According to the rumors, isn't there a prophetic fish living in the Realm of Destruction? Why haven't I seen it?"
"It's fallen into a deep sleep."
Whis glanced at the boy, slightly amused. This little one knows quite a lot, doesn't he?
"All right, no more talking while eating. Finish up quickly—your training starts soon."
Gran wanted to complain—Wasn't this the same guy who moaned like a gourmet critic every time he bit into fish yesterday?
But when he heard training was about to begin, he instantly focused on finishing his noodles.
Ten minutes later
Whis cleaned up the dishes with a flick of magic, and the two stood by the lake.
Whis gazed at Gran intently.
Wild and unstable energy… erratic breathing… wasted movements… can't suppress his aura… his mindset hasn't caught up to his dimensional level… dimension unstable…
Feeling that scrutinizing gaze, Gran swallowed hard.
"Mr. Whis… what's wrong?"
Whis tapped his staff lightly and said, "Do you know how vast the Realm of Destruction is?"
Gran blinked. "No idea."
Whis nodded seriously. "The number of flaws in your body could circle it ten times."
Gran: "…"
As expected of Vados's brother—his tongue's as sharp as poison!
Still, Gran asked respectfully, "Mr. Whis, how should I begin my training then?"
"At your current stage, you're not ready to train in strength yet."
"Why not?"
Whis's expression turned meaningful.
"You just recovered from a near-death state a few days ago. Your power increased by two hundred times. You're aware of that, aren't you?"
"What?!"
Gran's eyes widened. He quickly felt his body in disbelief.
So it was true—Saiyans really could awaken hidden potential after near-death recovery!
He'd been an elite warrior with a power level of 800. Two hundred times that meant 160,000—stronger than Captain Ginyu himself!
"I have 160,000 power at just six years old?"
Gran was thrilled. He hadn't expected his potential to be this monstrous.
But Whis quietly shook his head.
Gran was only six—his latent power had yet to truly bloom.
If that power increase came solely from recovery, tenfold would already be impressive. Two hundredfold? Impossible.
No, that sudden surge was caused by dimensional ascension.
Whis smiled faintly. "That strength may be yours, but you haven't mastered it. In other words—it isn't truly yours yet."
"Don't you feel your aura is… hollow?"
Gran shook his head.
It had been less than two days since he crossed into this world. Forget controlling that explosive power—he hadn't even fully adapted to this new body's original 800 power level.
He could barely fire a few energy blasts from muscle memory, but true aura control? Not a chance.
Sensing energy itself was beyond him.
Gran lifted his small, determined face. "Then, Mr. Whis—what should I do now?"
"At this stage, you must lay your foundation. Only with a solid base can you go farther."
Whis smirked slightly. "Your first task is to fully control every strand of your energy. But… it'll be painful. Can you handle that?"
"Painful?"
Gran's eyes burned with resolve. "I'm not afraid!"
In this universe, countless beings could obliterate planets with a flick of their wrist.
Without power, not only would he never reach the top of the multiverse pyramid—he might not even survive.
Compared to death, pain was nothing.
"Good," Whis chuckled mischievously. "You said it yourself—follow me."
Gran followed behind eagerly, only to realize Whis was heading toward the Temple of the God of Destruction.
His scalp tingled. Wait, don't tell me he's taking me inside Beerus's chamber?!
Soon, they stood before massive temple doors—five meters high, stone-gray, engraved with ancient sigils that faintly leaked destructive aura.
The moment Gran stood before them, his entire body felt submerged in an icy abyss—like his very being would disintegrate if he took one wrong step.
Is… this what he meant by pain?
Then
"Come in," Whis said casually, pushing the doors open.
A colossal surge of energy blasted out instantly, knocking Gran to the floor. His very soul trembled.
What kind of aura is this…?! So terrifying!
Whis looked back with a faint grin.
That wasn't ordinary pressure—it was Beerus's sleeping breath, carrying fragments of destructive energy.
Anyone else would've been obliterated instantly.
But Gran's dimension had already reached the pinnacle of the Kaiō level, a step away from the God tier, equal to Beerus himself.
That alone kept him from turning to dust.
"Keep up," Whis said, entering the vast hall.
Long corridors stretched along both sides, and he turned right.
Gran struggled to his feet, realizing his body was unharmed—so this wasn't yet the real training ground.
He hurried to follow.
Through the corridor windows, he caught glimpses of the Realm's landscapes. The corridor curved in a circle, seemingly enclosing something.
A sudden realization struck him. "Mr. Whis… is that where Lord Beerus sleeps?" he whispered, pointing toward the inner wall.
Whis smiled. "Indeed. That's Lord Beerus's chamber. If you don't want to wake him, I suggest you keep your voice down."
Gran froze.
Wake Beerus?
He recalled the "Battle of Gods" scene—where even an alarm bomb barely woke him. No way a little voice would do that.
"Whis, you're so mean…" Gran grumbled internally, though he still moved quietly—better safe than sorry.
Seeing the boy tiptoe nervously, Whis snickered wickedly.
At the corridor's end, he opened a door. "Go on in. Stay here for three years—you should master your power by then."
"Three years?"
Before Gran could react, Whis's foot shot out, kicking him straight through the doorway.
Thud!
He landed face-first, as Whis's teasing laugh echoed outside:
"Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!"
Gran had a very bad feeling about this.
As he got up and looked around, his eyes widened.
Calling this a "room" was an understatement—it was an entire world.
Deserts. Glaciers. Storms.
A savage environment filled with roaring, monstrous beasts.
Then suddenly
A crushing pressure slammed down on him.
"Gravity?!"
Gran was pinned to the ground, every cell feeling like it had been shackled.
Before he could recover, the nearby beasts turned toward him, charging all at once.
So this is how I'm supposed to master my power? By surviving this hell?!
"AAAAHHHHHH!"
"Whis—I hate you!"
"The next time I make dumplings, you're getting nothing but the wrappers!"
...
Time passed swiftly.
By the lakeside, Whis sat wearily at the table, sighing.
"Let's see… there's still over two years before the little one comes out. Life without his cooking is truly dull…"
Suddenly
A small, battle-worn figure emerged from the temple.
It was Gran.
Blood at the corner of his mouth, clothes torn to shreds, body covered in wounds
Yet from the way he carried himself, it was clear
He had completely mastered his power.