The Angels understood exactly who the Grand Minister was referring to. These ten Gods of Destruction were the pinnacle of power within their respective universes, yet today, they had been soundly defeated by the brothers from Universes 7 and 6. It was a staggering realization that left even the divine attendants in awe.
The Angels descended swiftly to attend to their fallen charges. Among the ten, Quitela had fared the worst; already weakened by Zeno's previous punishment, Beerus's relentless assault had left him on the very brink of death.
Not a single inch of the mouse god remained unscathed. Mosco, the mechanical titan of Universe 3, was a close second in terms of damage.
While Beerus had initially only destroyed his iron arms, Mosco's desperate attempt to pin Beerus down had left him exposed to the full weight of the other six gods' missed attacks.
He was now a mangled heap of scrap metal, his pilot, Mule, barely clinging to consciousness.
Liquiir and the others were in slightly better shape, though "better" was relative. They had been pummeled by Beerus's physical strikes and further eroded by the lingering effects of his Level 9 Destruction Rules.
Meanwhile, the trio handled by Champa—Iwan, Arack, and Sidra were simply unconscious. They had managed to land a few hits on Champa before going down, preserving some shred of their dignity compared to the seven who were dismantled by Beerus alone.
Humming with divine energy, the Angels gathered around their gods, casting high-level healing magic. Silver light bathed the pitch-black void, and one by one, the Destroyers were restored to full health. Of course, Cognac could not heal the internal scars Quitela carried from Zeno's previous wrath, but the physical damage was gone.
The World of Void fell into an eerie silence, as if the cataclysmic battle that had just transpired was merely a fever dream.
Beerus watched them recover, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He wasn't quite satisfied; he felt he hadn't finished making them pay. The scene was bizarre: Beerus and Champa stood like victorious prizefighters, chests puffed out, chins held high.
In contrast, the other ten—from the broken robot Mosco to the once-arrogant Belmod—kept their heads bowed. They couldn't bring themselves to look at the brothers, much less the Grand Minister. They had lost to Beerus millions of years ago, and today, history had repeated itself with even more crushing finality.
"Raise your heads and look at me," the Grand Minister said softly.
The defeated gods shuddered. Was he going to punish them for their failure? They looked up cautiously.
"If I recall, I only asked you to test the durability of my arena," the Grand Minister said, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The gods suddenly remembered the dual purpose of their gathering: the rule changes and the stage's stress test.
"Wait, where's the arena?" Rumsshi asked, scanning the space. It had completely vanished.
Unlike the others, Beerus had already realized what had happened. He knew his Level 9 rules were the culprit. He was the one who had erased the stage from existence. Feeling a surge of guilt, his eyes darted around, carefully avoiding the Grand Minister's gaze.
Whis noticed the "innocent" look on Beerus's face and had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. The other Angels found the cat's reaction equally amusing, further fueling their envy of Whis for having such a "colorful" Destroyer.
"You've all done a wonderful job," the Grand Minister continued, his voice devoid of emotion, which was far more terrifying than anger. "I asked you to test the arena, and you've wiped it out so thoroughly that not a single atom remains."
The gods bowed their heads again. Even Beerus followed suit, his tail twitching nervously.
"Beerus."
Beerus jumped. "Y-yes? Lord Grand Minister? You called?"
"Do you know why I'm calling you?" the Grand Minister asked with a faint smile.
The other gods looked up. Yes, it was Beerus! He's the one!
"Since it was your power that did the heavy lifting in erasing my stage," the Grand Minister said, his smile widening, "you will be the one to rebuild it."
Beerus froze. But... you TOLD us to test it! Why am I the one stuck with construction duty? The complaint stayed trapped in his throat.
"Is there a problem? Are you unwilling?" the Grand Minister asked.
"No! Not at all! I'd be honored!" Beerus shouted, nodding frantically.
Seeing the "Strongest Destroyer" reduced to a manual laborer brought a surge of joy to the others. Their depression vanished instantly. You might be stronger than us, Beerus, but you still can't mess with the boss!
The Grand Minister turned his gaze to the gloating losers. Their smiles died instantly.
"As for the rest of you... I am deeply disappointed that millions of years have yielded so little progress. The Battle Royale for the Destroyer Candidates is fast approaching. Consider your positions carefully."
With that chilling parting word, the Grand Minister vanished.
The silence returned, but the gods were now reeling from the sting of his disappointment. It was like a CEO telling his employees they were a letdown. Shame and indignation burned in their chests. They looked at the Universe 7 brothers with renewed bitterness.
"What are you looking at? You want another round?" Beerus growled, shaking his fist.
"Yeah!" Champa added, hiding behind Beerus. "Keep staring, and I'll have my brother finish what he started!"
The other gods gritted their teeth. Champa's arrogance was grating, especially since he was clearly riding his brother's coattails.
"Don't get too ahead of yourselves," Liquiir hissed.
"I literally just beat you into the dirt," Beerus retorted dismissively. "How can you still act tough? Anyone watching would think we were the ones who got trashed."
"You...!" Liquiir's face turned scarlet. The memory of the Level 9 Hakai eroding his tails was still fresh.
Quitela stepped forward, his face as pale as ever. "The fight ended when the Grand Minister left. Liquiir, there's no point in fear. Beerus wouldn't dare touch us now." He knew that without official permission, Beerus was bound by Zeno's laws.
Beerus scoffed. He knew he couldn't kill them now, but he had already made his point.
"Fine," Belmod said, stepping forward with a cold sneer. "We lost today. But don't forget the battle between our twelve universes in five years. When your candidate loses, I hope you're just as 'graceful' about it."
This reminded the gods of the upcoming tournament. They couldn't beat Beerus, but they could certainly train their candidates to crush his. It would be a different kind of victory.
"Beerus, just you wait," Giin growled. "My candidate will wipe the floor with yours."
"I hope you didn't pick a weakling," Heles added. "It would be embarrassing if he were the first one eliminated."
The gods began hurling insults and empty threats. Beerus found it tedious. He was about to chase them off so he could start the annoying task of rebuilding the stage when Belmod approached him.
"I'll be honest with you, Beerus," the clown whispered, his voice dropping to a low, ominous tone.
"The warrior in my universe... his pure strength is already greater than mine. Everything you did to me today, I'll ensure he pays back your candidate a thousand times over. You'd better train your boy well, or he's a dead man."
Stronger than a Destroyer?
The other gods overheard and felt a jolt of shock. The rumors were true—Universe 11 really did have a mortal who surpassed a God of Destruction.
Beerus remained silent.
"What's the matter? Scared?" Belmod laughed.
"Your raw power is only at the early stage of Level 4," Beerus said, his eyes narrowing. "So your candidate is likely around Level 4 or higher. That is... impressive for a mortal."
Belmod's grin grew wider.
"However," Beerus's lips curled into a smirk. "Compared to my candidate, your guy is nothing but a footnote. He'll be lucky even to touch him."
"We'll see about that!" Belmod snarled. "I hope you keep that same energy in five years!"
"Beat it," Beerus commanded, flaring his Level 9 Hakai aura once more. "I have a stage to build. If you're still here in ten seconds, I'm counting it as a spar."
The gods scrambled. They knew Beerus wouldn't kill them, but a "sparring" session with him was a nightmare they didn't want to repeat. They fled the World of Void in a blur of light.
Outside the World of Void.
In the silver expanse of the inter-dimensional space, the gods and their Angels hovered. Quitela was the first to speak, his voice cold. "Liquiir, what are you so worried about? You think Beerus's candidate is actually a threat?"
"You're one to talk," Heles shot back. "Didn't you send assassins after him? What happened?"
Quitela's face darkened. "He's dead. The man I sent had Level 3 Divine Power, and Beerus's brat killed him."
The gods fell silent. A mortal killing a Level 3 Divine warrior was unheard of. Even the Angels looked intrigued. Cus, who had seen Gran years ago, remained quiet. She remembered the nine-year-old boy who had already touched the hem of Ultra Instinct. If he had been training with Whis all this time...
"Enough talk," Quitela snapped, turning to leave. "Instead of guessing, go train your own people. Beerus, you wait. Once the ancient creature in my universe regains its strength, your candidate is finished."
One by one, the gods departed. Soon, only Rumsshi and Cus remained.
"Cus," Rumsshi sighed. "Why are those two brothers so monstrously strong?"
"Talent, Lord Rumsshi. Pure, unadulterated talent," she replied with a smile.
"You mentioned a kid in Universe 7 once," Rumsshi recalled. "The one Whis was so proud of."
"Yes," Cus nodded. "Ten years ago, when he was only nine, he had already mastered the basics of Ultra Instinct. He is a 'transcendent' talent."
Rumsshi closed his eyes, a heavy weight settling in his chest. A nine-year-old with Ultra Instinct? No wonder Quitela's assassin failed. "Cus... do you think I could partner up with Beerus? I really don't want to be on Zeno's bad side."
Cus giggled. "There are only two spots for safety, and Beerus will definitely pick his brother. You're on your own, Lord Rumsshi."
"That's what I was afraid of!"
Inside Zeno's Palace.
The Grand Minister walked through the shimmering corridors and entered the main hall. The King of All sat upon his throne, playing a game on a tablet-like device while his two tall attendants stood guard.
"Lord Zeno, I have returned," the Grand Minister bowed.
"Welcome back!" Zeno chirped, setting his game aside. "How is the arena?"
"It was completed," the Grand Minister smiled. "And then it was promptly destroyed."
"Ehh?"
"Look for yourself, Sire." The Grand Minister projected a recording of the battle.
"Wow! Beerus and Champa are so cool!" Zeno clapped his hands excitedly.
"They are indeed impressive," the Grand Minister agreed.
"But the gods fighting is so messy," Zeno pouted. "I want to see the candidates. That's going to be way more fun!"
"Indeed," the Grand Minister bowed. "Only five years remain until the real show begins."
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