"Dragon Balls?"
The Grand Elder's response held no surprise. After the cataclysm that reshaped Namek, its civilization had turned inward, peaceful, and technologically simple. Few outsiders had any reason to come here, save for the most unsavory types. Their objective was, therefore, not difficult to deduce. The only treasure Namek possessed that might draw attention from the stars was its legendary orbs.
What puzzled the Elder was not their purpose, but their knowledge. How did these Saiyans know of the Dragon Balls? Had they learned of it from some cosmic sage? The question lingered, but he did not voice it. His ancient eyes swept over them, taking their measure, and he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"No problem. You may use the Dragon Balls."
His ready agreement was not born of fear for their power—though he perceived its depth—but of perception. The Grand Elder could sense the truth of Rhode's words. They bore no malice toward Namek.
His perception ran deeper still. He felt the dormant, titanic power within Rhode, a calm ocean that far exceeded Aira's turbulent sea. He sensed the echoes of lives ended by their hands, a lingering shadow of violence. Yet, strangely, that shadow was receding, fading day by day, especially around Rhode, where it had become a faint, almost undetectable whisper. In Aira, the cold edge of a warrior remained, but it was being tempered, not sharpened.
To the Elder, it felt as if these two, particularly the young man, were walking a path of conscious atonement, a transformation they themselves might not fully grasp. It was this perceived absence of true evil in their hearts—especially in Rhode's tranquil, introspective spirit—that led to his consent.
Had Rhode known the Elder's thoughts, he would have concurred. The merger of his awakened past-life memories—those of an ordinary, law-abiding person—with his Saiyan instincts was indeed causing a fundamental shift in his nature. Aira, too, was changing, her brutal edges softened by Earth's peace and Rhode's influence.
"Thank you, Grand Elder," Rhode said, his surprise giving way to respectful gratitude. If things could be settled amicably, so much the better. He would find a way to repay the kindness in time.
"That easy?" Aira muttered, her instincts flaring with suspicion at the lack of resistance. She eyed the Grand Elder warily while sending a sharp, telepathic spike to Rhode. "Rhode, this Namekian is powerful. Can you take him?"
Rhode met her gaze briefly, then looked back at the serene Elder. He replied mentally, his thoughts calm and assured. "Don't worry. Everything is under control."
The Grand Elder's power was indeed formidable—stronger than his own, likely between forty and fifty thousand. But it was the deep, ancient power of a creator, not a warrior. It lacked the razor's edge of combat.
"Oh?" Aira gave him a long, assessing look, the suspicion in her eyes slowly replaced by a grudging trust in his judgment. The fight was off the table, for now. The path to the Dragon Balls lay open.Yet, in Aira's perception, the Grand Elder's power was a vast, immovable mountain, utterly beyond her capacity to challenge. Rhode's casual claim of having it 'under control' sent a ripple of shock through her. Just how deep does his power go?
Hm?
As she was lost in these thoughts, her telepathic message still hanging in the air, she saw the Grand Elder turn his gentle gaze directly upon her and offer a small, knowing smile.
That smile said it all. Techniques like basic ki-based telepathy, while useful, were child's play to a being who had mastered energy manipulation over countless centuries. Her secret communication had been an open book.
A flush of embarrassment warmed Aira's cheeks. She fell silent, her earlier bravado thoroughly punctured.
"Nail," the Grand Elder said, his attention shifting effortlessly, showing no offense at the intercepted message. "I must trouble you with a task." He looked at his loyal, battered guard. "Please inform the tribal elders. Then, gather the Dragon Balls and bring them here."
"Grand Elder, this..." Nail, still recovering from his injuries, looked alarmed. His eyes darted nervously toward the two Saiyans, his protective instincts screaming.
His meaning was plain: leaving the Elder alone with these unpredictable outsiders was unthinkable.
"Be at ease," the Elder replied, his smile never wavering. "I am perfectly safe. Go, and do not worry."
"This..." Nail wavered. The Grand Elder's judgment of character was legendary. Yet, his very purpose was to stand guard.
"Go," the Elder repeated, his voice soft but final.
Seeing the resolve in his master's eyes, Nail reluctantly bowed his head. "As you wish, Grand Elder."
"Wait a moment."
Just as Nail began to gather his ki to depart, Rhode's voice cut through the air. He raised his hand and flicked something small and green toward Nail. The Namekian caught it reflexively. "Eat this," Rhode said.
If others show me an inch of respect, I will return a foot. Since the Grand Elder had been so accommodating, Rhode saw no reason not to reciprocate with a small gesture of goodwill. Nail's injuries were, after all, a result of their presence.
Nail stared at the strange bean in his palm, confusion plain on his face. "What is this?" He looked to the Grand Elder for guidance and received a calm, approving nod in return.
Aira, watching Rhode casually hand over a Senzu Bean and then endure Nail's questioning, snorted in annoyance. "Quit your whining! You're getting a treasure, you should be grateful!"
Ignoring her, and seeing the Grand Elder's assent, Nail didn't hesitate further. He popped the unassuming bean into his mouth and chewed.
Crunch.
The effect was instantaneous. A wave of cool, revitalizing energy washed through him. The ache in his abdomen vanished. The bruising and internal distress from Aira's blows melted away in seconds. His fatigue was erased, and his ki felt fuller, more vibrant than it had even before the fight. He straightened, his eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated astonishment as he stared at his own hands, then at Rhode. This was no simple medicine; it was a miracle.
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