"Y-you…"
Facing Beerus's eyes, brimming with naked killing intent, Quitela's courage shattered. His heart and gall both trembled.
The same amount of time had passed—
so why was it that only Beerus had improved by such an absurd margin?
Why?!
Damn it—truly damn it!!
Quitela screamed inwardly.
Had he known Beerus would grow to this extent, he never would have provoked him.
Now… he was drowning in regret.
"Judging by that look in your eyes," Beerus said coldly,
"it seems you're regretting things."
Suddenly, Beerus reached out and clamped a hand around Quitela's throat, lifting him effortlessly.
With utter disdain, he continued,
"But in my eyes, this isn't regret at all. You just know you're about to die."
"Ghh—ghh—!!"
Quitela was hoisted into the air, struggling frantically.
"W-we're all Gods of Destruction under Lord Zeno! If you kill us, Lord Zeno will never let you off!"
"Who said I was going to kill you?"
Beerus held Quitela's neck with one hand—
and drove his other fist straight forward.
BOOM!
The peak power of the Seventh Stage of the Divine Realm detonated inside Quitela's abdomen.
"PFF!!"
Quitela spat out a mouthful of blood, the sensation of his ribs shattering into countless pieces flooding his body.
"Of course I know Lord Zeno would hold me accountable," Beerus said calmly.
"That's why I won't kill you."
He glanced back at the other Gods of Destruction, twisted and broken under the torment of Destruction energy.
Then he turned back, tightening his grip on Quitela's throat, a cold smile curling across his face.
"I just want to torture you."
"Y-you… what exactly are you trying to do?!"
Enduring agony in both body and soul, Quitela struggled desperately, trying to break free.
Beerus ignored him.
Another punch smashed into Quitela's side.
The immense force instantly pulverized his spine.
"AAAAAH!!!"
Once Quitela had lost all basic mobility, a faint purple radiance surged into Beerus's palm.
That glow wrapped around his hand, as if condensing into a blade.
Only—
That radiance was Ninth-Stage Destruction rule power.
"You dared to ambush my candidate?" Beerus said icily.
"Then enjoy every second of my torment."
Beerus flung Quitela upward.
The hand wreathed in Destruction rule power slashed forward repeatedly
Just as he was about to carve Quitela apart piece by piece
"Enough."
A short figure suddenly appeared beside Beerus.
A divine halo hovered above his head.
His expression was neither sorrowful nor angry—only terrifyingly calm.
At the same moment, the angels above the void descended one after another.
The instant Beerus recognized the newcomer, cold sweat poured down his back.
The Grand Priest… has had enough?
Beerus immediately stopped.
He stood beside the Grand Priest, head lowered, waist bent, lightly biting his lip.
Looking utterly aggrieved, he resembled a schoolboy awaiting punishment after being caught misbehaving.
The Grand Priest: "..."
The angels: "..."
You nearly beat someone to death—
and you're the one acting wronged?
Several angels shot a look at Whis, as if saying:
Your God of Destruction really has no shame.
Whis, however, felt no embarrassment at all—
he covered his mouth and snickered.
"Beerus," the Grand Priest said calmly,
"you've grown rather bold."
"Huh?"
Beerus lowered his head, feigning innocence.
"I didn't do anything. I followed your instructions perfectly. I was just… diligently testing the arena's durability—"
Before he could finish, the Grand Priest interrupted:
"Look around you."
Beerus caught that the Grand Priest wasn't scolding him for crippling the other Gods of Destruction.
Relief mixed with confusion.
Look around?
He cautiously raised his head—
And instantly froze.
"W-wait—Grand Priest, where's your arena?!"
Beerus exclaimed in shock.
Judging by his expression, it was as if the arena's disappearance had nothing to do with him.
And in truth—
Beerus genuinely had no idea.
The moment he saw Quitela, he had completely forgotten the Grand Priest's order.
All he'd wanted was to torture Quitela brutally—the arena never even crossed his mind.
"Grand Priest… it seems your arena might be a little… not very durable?"
The words slipped out instinctively.
The moment he finished speaking, Beerus slapped himself twice—hard.
Whis pressed a hand to his forehead.
Is my God of Destruction really trying to die?
The other angels were equally speechless.
Only now did they realize just how much nerve Beerus truly had.
The Grand Priest won't punish me… right?
Beerus's body trembled as he bent even lower.
"Beerus," the Grand Priest said mildly,
"you've been rather naughty lately."
He extended his small hand and rested it on Beerus's shoulder.
Beerus stiffened instantly.
That small hand felt heavier than a mountain,
No.
It felt like the entire weight of Lord Zeno's universe had pressed down upon him.
Crack—crack—crack—!
Beerus strained with all his might, but he couldn't straighten his back at all.
His bones groaned under the pressure.
In mere moments, his face turned deathly pale.
Just moments ago, he had stood invincible, defeating seven Gods of Destruction.
Yet before the Grand Priest—
He was no different from an ant.
The angels watched silently.
Whis remained quiet as well.
He didn't plead on Beerus's behalf—
his God of Destruction really had been a bit too mischievous lately.
"Grand Priest—I was wrong!"
Beerus gritted his teeth, sweat the size of beans pouring from his forehead.
Hearing this, the Grand Priest withdrew his hand.
For a genius like Beerus, his tolerance was still rather generous.
Freed from that crushing pressure, Beerus gulped in huge breaths of air.
As expected of the Grand Priest… that power is terrifying.
Just then
"Beerus! I took down those three—Arak, Iwan, and Sidra. You alright?"
Champa flew over, panting heavily, his body covered in fresh wounds.
Clearly,
Fighting three Gods of Destruction at once had taken a massive toll on him.
Arriving nearby and noticing the Grand Priest, Champa quickly bowed in greeting.
The Grand Priest nodded and glanced toward Champa's battlefield.
Whis and the others followed his gaze.
Arak the Mummy, Iwan the Furball, and Sidra the Dwarf had all been flattened by Champa.
"You two brothers possess exceptional talent,"
the Grand Priest said, withdrawing his gaze with a satisfied smile.
"Who would've thought Lord Beerus would stop slacking off and sleeping all the time,"
Marcarita teased,
"and secretly improve this much."
"Whis really is lucky," Mohito sighed.
"To have a God of Destruction this talented. If only our Universe Nine had someone half as capable as Lord Beerus."
"Lord Champa is impressive too," Kusu said enviously.
"In just tens of millions of years, he's already reached the peak of the Sixth Stage."
Vados cleared her throat lightly.
"Big sister, actually, that has nothing to do with Lord Champa. It's all thanks to my excellent training."
Champa: "..."
Champa was momentarily speechless at his sly angel.
Still, hearing so much praise from the angels, his grin stretched uncontrollably.
He met Beerus's gaze—and saw the same barely hidden delight reflected back.
Being praised… was hard not to enjoy.
Especially when that praise came from the Grand Priest, second only to Lord Zeno himself.
It felt better than drinking an eighty-two-year-old cola.
The two brothers stood tall, chests out, pride written all over their faces.
Whis and Vados exchanged a glance and smiled softly.
These two really did have reason to be proud.
"Alright."
The Grand Priest glanced at the grievously injured Gods of Destruction around them and said flatly:
"Aren't you going to save them?
At this rate, they're really going to die."
END OF CHAPTER
Disciple of Beerus - MrBehringer's Secret
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