Pan’s martial arts mastery was evident in her every strike, her body moving with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior. She combined her punches and kicks with her tail, weaving in and out, her dark violet energy illuminating each movement with an almost supernatural light.
She was a whirlwind of destruction, and Vegeta had to push himself to keep pace. He countered her strikes, each blow landing against his defenses like a battering ram. He could feel the raw power behind her attacks, the sharpness of her movements demanding his full attention.
“Your technique is impressive,” he admitted begrudgingly as he barely evaded another punch. “But you underestimate what it means to be a Saiyan.”
“Do I?” she shot back, her eyes glinting with amusement as she executed a spinning kick that he narrowly ducked. “You may be a Prince, Vegeta, but you’ve become soft, tethered by your little family. Tell me, how strong can you really be when you’re thinking of their safety? How will you fight with their lives in the balance?”
Vegeta’s heart raced, anger flooding his system as her words struck home. She was right about one thing: his family grounded him, but they also fueled his fire. The memories of his training, his struggles, his battles—all of it surged through him. He was a warrior, and he would not yield.
With a fierce shout, he tapped into his anger, channeling it into his power. “You think I can’t fight for my family? That I’m weak because I care?” he roared, his aura flaring around him. “I will protect them, and I will crush anyone who threatens them, even if that means fighting you with everything I have!”
With newfound determination, Vegeta closed the distance between them, launching a barrage of punches aimed at her face and torso. Pan responded in kind, her movements a blur as she parried and countered, their energies colliding in brilliant bursts of light. The arena erupted around them, shockwaves rippling outward as their battle escalated into a true clash of titans.
In that moment, Vegeta realized that Pan’s darkness was more than just a challenge—it was a reflection of what he had fought so hard to overcome. Each strike was a reminder of the past he had fought to escape, but now, standing before her, he understood that this fight was about so much more than pride; it was about the future of his family, the legacy of his people, and the very essence of what it meant to be a Saiyan.
“Let’s see if your power matches your words!” he yelled, determination blazing in his chest as he prepared to unleash his next move.
Vegeta’s relentless barrage continued, his fists flying with the fury of a storm. Each strike resonated with power, but Pan met him blow for blow, her mastery of martial arts and raw energy keeping pace with his. Yet, even as he pushed himself to his limits, he could feel something shifting in the fight. It was like striking a wall; she absorbed his hits with an unsettling ease, as if his rage meant nothing to her.
Suddenly, in a flash, Pan’s movements shifted. With a speed that took him by surprise, she closed the distance between them, her hand shooting out to grasp his throat. Before he could react, she lifted him off the ground effortlessly, her strength palpable and alarming.
“Enough,” she said, her voice calm and unyielding, a stark contrast to the intensity of their battle. “You are too weak. This fight is quite boring.”
Vegeta struggled against her grip, his instincts kicking in as he attempted to break free. He was a prince of Saiyans, a warrior who had faced down gods, and yet here he was, suspended in the air, her fingers like iron around his throat. Panic flickered at the edges of his consciousness, but he buried it deep, refusing to show weakness.
Pan turned her head slightly, glancing over her shoulder as if contemplating something distant before fixing her cold, calculating gaze back on him. “Unless you can actually damage me with your rage and fury,” she continued, her tone laced with boredom, “this will go nowhere. Unless you want me to one-tap you.”
The disdain in her voice ignited a furious flame within him. One-tap? She would not belittle him like that! He growled, summoning every ounce of strength he had, his mind racing as he sought a way to counter her grip. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was a warrior, not some plaything to be toyed with!
“Let go of me!” he roared, forcing himself to regain his composure, his voice echoing through the arena, laced with a determination that surged through him like wildfire. “I won’t be bested by you!”
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With a burst of energy, he concentrated on his aura, forcing it to expand outward. He could feel the power coursing through him, building, ready to erupt. It was a risk—one that could lead to collateral damage—but at this moment, he didn’t care. He needed to show her the strength of a true Saiyan.
Just as his energy flared, Pan’s grip tightened, and he felt a spark of discomfort in his throat. “Anger won’t help you, Vegeta,” she said, her voice deceptively calm. “You need to dig deeper, to unleash the part of you that’s been buried beneath this façade of honor and family.”
Vegeta met her gaze, his blue eyes burning with intensity. “You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he hissed, feeling his power reach its peak. “You think you can break me? You’ll regret underestimating me!”
In a desperate surge, he focused on the energy coiling within him, summoning it to his fist. Just as he was about to unleash a counterattack, he felt a flicker of uncertainty—her presence was daunting, her confidence unwavering. But then he remembered the faces of his loved ones, the weight of his responsibility, and that fueled him further.
“Prepare yourself!” he bellowed, the power bursting forth as he redirected it, aiming to break free of her grip. With one final push, he unleashed a wave of energy that radiated outward in an explosive shockwave, hoping to disrupt her hold and assert his dominance in this brutal dance of strength.
As the energy surged, he prepared to follow through with a counterstrike, to show her that beneath the facade of pride, there lay a warrior whose fury could not be so easily dismissed.
Pan waited, her grip unwavering around Vegeta’s throat, her expression inscrutable as the energy around them swirled and crackled. The arena fell silent, every spectator holding their breath, tension thickening the air as if the very fabric of reality paused to witness the unfolding spectacle.
Vegeta struggled against her hold, summoning every ounce of his power to escape, to prove himself. Yet, despite the surge of energy radiating from him, Pan remained still, a calm center in the storm. It was as if she were a statue carved from the very stone of the arena itself—immovable and unyielding.
“Is this all you have, Prince?” she asked, her voice soft yet laced with a mocking edge. “You claim to protect your family, your legacy, and yet here you are, struggling to break free from a mere grip. How disappointing.”
Anger flared within him, heat washing over his skin, igniting his determination anew. He wouldn’t let her mock him, not when everything he had fought for was at stake. With a fierce roar, he focused his energy once more, determined to break free, but the force of her presence weighed heavy on him, pressing down like a mountain.
“You can’t toy with me!” he snapped, forcing his voice to steady despite the pressure in his throat. “I will not back down.”
“Then prove it,” she replied, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against him. “Show me the depths of your fury. Show me that you can truly fight, not just for yourself, but for those you care about.”
In that moment, the world around him faded—the crowd, the arena, even the gods watching in rapt attention. It was just him and Pan, the weight of her challenge hanging heavy in the air. The reminder of his family—their faces, their smiles—filled his mind, bolstering his resolve. She was right about one thing: his love for them was a double-edged sword, giving him strength but also tethering him to fear.
With a sudden shift in his focus, Vegeta channeled that fear, that love, and transformed it into something more powerful—an unyielding rage. He pushed against her grip with a primal force, a determination that surged through his body like wildfire. “You want to see me fight?” he growled. “Then you’d better be ready to face the full power of a Saiyan!”
With a fierce yell, he unleashed his energy, igniting his aura in a brilliant blue blaze that illuminated the arena, swirling around them like a tempest. The ground beneath him cracked and splintered as he broke free from her hold, using the momentum to launch himself backward, distancing himself just enough to gather his strength.
Pan raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by his display of power. “That’s better,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Vegeta clenched his fists, feeling the adrenaline coursing through him. He wouldn’t let her patronize him any longer. “You may be strong, Pan,” he declared, his voice steadying. “But you’ve underestimated me. I will show you the strength of a true Saiyan!”
Without hesitation, he launched himself at her, his fists crackling with energy as he aimed for her midsection. She dodged nimbly to the side, her movements fluid and precise, but he anticipated her evasion and spun around, delivering a powerful kick aimed at her head. She blocked it with ease, their energies colliding in a flash of light, but he felt the impact reverberate through him, a reminder that he was still in this fight.
The momentum swung back and forth like a pendulum, each of them landing blows and countering with a fury that sent shockwaves throughout the arena. Vegeta could feel the thrill of the battle rising within him, fueled by the stakes and the presence of a formidable opponent.
“Your power has increased,” Pan noted, her expression shifting to one of genuine interest as she parried his latest attack. “But there’s still something lacking—a core, perhaps. Let me show you how it’s done!”